We went into it with our eyes open, but opening them had taken a long time. At the time of our marriage I'm certain neither of us had ever considered the notion of marital infidelity, much less wife-swapping and other such refinements. I can speak with absolute certainty for myself, and for Helen I have the voice of her diary which she abandoned with everything else when she left. The only entry at all pertinent is from three months prior to our wedding.
"Tuesday, October 3: Went out with Mike. Seemed a little crummy with Bob out of town, but engaged isn't the same as married. We saw a rerun of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Mike kept hanging his hand over my shoulder and making it creep down my sweater. Pretty mean; but I guess he couldn't know how sensitive my breasts are at this time of the month. I kept shooing him away, but by the end of the show I was feeling pretty amorous, all the same. He wanted to park, and I let him. We made out for a while. He really charged my mouth with his tongue. I wouldn't let him unhook my bra, but he squeezed my tits around a lot anyway and reached in and got my nipples, which really turned me on. Then he started up my legs. He got onto my bare thighs, and I had to stop him. If it wasn't then, it would have been never. He was real sweaty and mad and said I was a prick-teaser. I told him I was engaged and that he knew it. Then he sulked and finally drove me home. So I guess I won't try that again. From now on if Bobby doesn't make love to me, nobody will."
My experience really wasn't so very different. I went out with girls I had dated earlier, several times after we got engaged. I kept telling myself I wanted to be sure, but part of it was simply that with Helen a sure thing I felt a little freer with the others. I didn't get all that much unfortunately, because I'm not particularly aggressive with girls. But I didn't bat .000 either.
There was a little girl named Tina whom I had met in one of my classes and dated occasionally. She was real slim and pale, as if she was anemic; and she didn't have any tits at all. But when we parked, she was real fiery. I was usually kind of scared of her, but this one last time I let myself go. It was warm for September, and she didn't get cold when I pulled her sweater all the way up to her armpits. We were kissing like mad. I got her bra undone and up and started rubbing her tits. They weren't much, but her nipples were something else. They were like hard, hot stones and stood out at least half an inch. I pinched them and twisted them, and she groaned. Then I got down and started sucking one. I squeezed it hard between my tongue and my teeth, which made her buck her hips forward. She was making a kind of humming sound.
Once she started that bucking, I went for her crotch. Her stomach was perfectly flat, and when I put my hand over it, she drew it in, practically inviting me to slide my hand under the waistband of her skirt. My fingers were snared in her humid, hairy nest, and then they were over the hump and into the top of her slit. I was all excited and pushed down all the way between her legs, generally sensing rather than savoring the swollen softness of her lips and the warm juice that made them so slippery. We probably would have fucked in another few minutes, but a cop car started slowly into the other end of the lane we were parked in. We beat it in a hurry; we were both too startled to get going again.
Obviously, I wasn't much of a Romeo. I was nineteen and had never made it with anyone before we got married. Neither had Helen, for that matter. But this is not to say I was totally naive. If my cock was innocent, my hand, at least, had felt several cunts -- four to be exact. Besides Tina and Helen there had been two football weekend dates in college whom I had never seen again.
In retrospect it doesn't seem like much, but within my own circle of friends such innocence was not uncommon, even though we all talked as if it were. Things may have been different on the East or West coasts or at bigger schools, but at H. College in W., Indiana, those were the facts of life.
Going back to my story, though, we were both relatively innocent when we got married and had no reason to suspect that marriage was not the sole and final answer to the mystery of sex. We were almost overly familiar with each other's body before the ceremony. We had slept together and spent hours just looking at each other and handling each other, not fucking, more than anything because of Helen's scruples. More than once we stared lovingly and seriously into each other's eyes while frigging each other. Helen liked to watch me come. She laughed at the big white gobs squirting in the air and landing warmly on her thigh or breast. Her amusement was a cover for sexual fascination.
Usually after I had come, I would keep working languorously at her clitoris and cunt lips until she became tenser and tenser, like a strung bow, and then broke into great jerks of orgasm. Then we would cuddle and sleep, and she would promise me that we could fuck the instant the ceremony was over.
In time, of course, the ceremony was over and we did fuck. Not immediately after the "I do", naturally, but not long after. Actually, we hardly stopped fucking for four months. Two or three times a day was the rule, and it was frequently broken. I even computed that at one hundred strokes per screw, with my cock being seven inches long, I shoved over three miles of hot, hard prick up my dear, sweet Helen's cunt during that period.
I should add, perhaps needlessly, that Helen was and is, a glorious lay, although I only intuited it at the time, having no standard of comparison. She's five-four, dark blonde, and thin; but her breasts are heavy and full, real swingers when she walks without a bra. Her nipples are large and protuberant. And as for her pussy, it's beaut. The bones of the pubic arch are especially prominent, so any clothes she wears that fit closely in the hips and crotch make her mound look almost as big as a man's. And covering it is a fairly large area of brownish hair, darker than on her head of course, which is both fine, at least for pubic hair, and rather sparse. The result is that instead of hiding her cunt it veils it. Her slit is always dimly visible through the tangle.
With such natural equipment and high interest, it's no wonder she learned a lot in those four months. She could match my rhythm or force her own; she could squeeze my cock inside and milk it; she could prolong her orgasm into successive ecstasies; she could do anything.
But after those four months, we both began to sense that fucking each other wasn't all there was to sex. We didn't talk about it because we both felt it would be accusing the other of inadequacy. We simply let our sex lives run down. We fucked, but not often enough or enjoyably enough to satisfy ourselves. I relapsed into the masturbation pornography syndrome, and she did, too.
Occasionally, she would write sex fantasies into her dairy:
"I wish someday I could go to a swimming pool in a bikini with only men around. They'd all look at me, and I'd take my bra off and swing my tits at them. They'd all have big cockstands. I'd poke my crotch out, and they'd all stare at it. Then I'd lie down on an air mattress, and they would all fuck me, one after the other, until semen ran out of my cunt in a stream. (I've been writing this with my hand in my pants, and I just came.) So good-night, diary..."
There's no point detailing this period any further. It went on for almost two years. We had celebrated our second anniversary happily, for this difficulty had not really touched our feelings for each other as husband and wife. We were both twenty-one and out of college. I had a good job since I was an electrical engineer, and we really felt independent. Getting married young had made for an awkward family situation as long as we were still dependent. But now we were free of family, self-supporting and newcomers to P., a suburb of Chicago near the industrial park I was working at. It was almost like starting life over again. For the first time we could consider having children, but we decided to get settled for a year or two first. In short, we were embarking on a typical suburban life.
What happened to change that life was very trivial. For a couple of years I had been looking at Playboy and every couple of months buying a dirty paperback on the sly. I'd keep them hidden, read them, and discard them. Most of the time my conscience led me to select "classics" like Fanny Hill or safely dated Victorian jobs. There was a seedy suburb between P. and work, however, which broadened my horizons. A newsstand there had a tremendous selection compared with what I was used to, and I branched out, first to a very contemporary book about teeny-boppers in mini-skirts getting sucked off in class in high school, and then to a book on wife swapping.
They were both wildly fanciful, of course, but at the same time they suggested that even if people lived only half as wildly as they pictured, those people made me seem like a country parson. I had read about odd positions and sucking off in the other books, but the impact hadn't been strong. Helen and I had never tried other positions more than half-heartedly, nor had we ever sucked each other, except once -- timidly. We had been like sex addicts when we first got married, but only within very staid and traditional limits.
I read the book on wife swapping slowly, savoring and jacking off at every wild party, orgy, key club, and sex game it described. Then, one day when I looked for it in my desk, it was gone.
Two days later it was back. I knew Helen had read it. The circumstantial evidence was enough, but her avoidance of conversation cinched it. I was really worried that she would cause a great scene about it. Nothing was said.
One week later she said, "What did you think of it?"
"Of what?" I replied.
"Of the sex book."
My long hesitation before answering would have been infinitely less tense if I had then had her diary. The entry for the night before this conversation reads:
"Wednesday, March 3: This is getting ridiculous! I've been playing with myself for six solid days over a silly book. I haven't been so horny in years. Be it resolved that tomorrow I'll find out what Bob thinks."
I didn't know what she thought, however, and before I answered I considered several possible lines. I could apologize for buying it, or I could say I thought it was terrible and had gotten it from a guy at work. But perhaps I had an unconscious notion that here was a chance to break up the sexual logjam that was slowly building up in our marriage. In any case, I told her what I thought.
I told her it was the sexiest thing I had ever read. I said the thought of husbands and wives switching partners in front of each other and taking pictures of each other fucking in pairs or groups made me almost unbearably horny. I had a hard-on just telling her that much.
All she said in reply was, "Me too."
Suddenly the logjam was gone -- or at least in hindsight that seems to have been the moment. She came over and sat on my lap, and we kissed passionately. She grabbed my prick, and I squeezed her breast. In a frenzy we made our way to the bedroom. We undressed each other and caressed each other as we hadn't for two years. Her cunt was soaking. Two fingers went in to the hilt. I sucked her nipples until she moaned. Then she pushed me back and, kneeling, took my cock in her mouth. Stroking the shaft and halls she sucked and licked delicately at the head. It was an amateur job compared to later efforts, but I almost died. Finally, I pulled her up. She mounted me and after some effort got my prick inside her. Just as when we were courting, we looked each other soulfully in the face while she slid smoothly up and down my cock. Harder and deeper she forced herself down on it. Her big tits swayed, and I grabbed the nipples. Then we came together with one of the fullest orgasms we had ever had.
It seems strange that the simple confession of reading the same book and finding it exciting could produce so amorous a reaction. I'm sure she wasn't fantasizing along the lines of the book while we fucked. I know I wasn't. It was just good loving. It must have been that, having grown bored with one another, we had come to doubt our own and each other's sexuality. The sudden revelation that we were both still full of lust must have triggered the reaction.
We cuddled after fucking and talked. I can practically recreate the conversation...
"Can you really imagine someone like Ted Barnes fucking me?"
"I can see you now, with Ted on top of you and me beside you screwing Ann."
"Do you like Ann?"
"Right now I think I like only two things, you and cunt. I think I'd like to slide my hand between the thighs of every girl we know -- within reason, Marge is pretty ugly."
"Remember the scene in the book where the guy fucks the girl between the tits? I'd like to have you do that on me while someone behind you felt my cunt."
"Or sucked it."
"Oh, I don't know. That part sounded messy; I don't know if I'd like it."
"What if it was me sucking some girl right over your head while I fucked you between the tits?"
"Oh, that'd be all right." Then she paused. "Do you think well ever do any stuff like that?"
"Well, it's not going to happen if we don't make it happen. We've been married for two years and haven't been invited to an orgy yet."
"Do you want to make it happen?"
"I don't know. Do you want to make it happen?"
We had been playing with each others genitals throughout the conversation, and at this point as the conversation came to a head, so did our play. My hand was slithering all over her cunt. Semen and cuntjuice coated the whole area between her thighs. Now I was concentrating move on her clit. She was grabbing my cock harder and pumping it steadily.
"Maybe we shouldn't, Bob." Her voice was hesitant.
"Doesn't the idea of it make you want to come, though?"
She was on the verge of coming. "Yes! I want to fuck somebody and suck somebody and lie in a heap of naked bodies!"
I dove for her cunt and for the first time put my mouth to the warm, wet, sultry morass at the center of her ecstasy. She came in seconds, the contractions of her lips gently squeezing my nose and lips. Then, still feverish with extended orgasm, she squirmed around and got my prick in her mouth. I remember warning her I was about to come, but she kept on sucking. I squirted a great dose of semen into her mouth, and I could feet her swallowing it.
Again we cuddled, sweaty and exhausted. On the edge of sleep she asked me, "Are we really going to do it?"
"Yeah, I guess so," I said, and we fell fast asleep.
Of course, we didn't just jump out of bed the next morning, call up some friends and ask them over for a screw. The decision was made, and even though we were both embarrassed about it the next day, we agreed that we would stick to it. But there was much to do and talk about between decision and action.
We couldn't even talk about what to do and how to do it until we knew more. I began to scour bookstores in Chicago for more on the subject, which we both read avidly. Night after night we would lie in bed naked, reading sex books and playing with each other. Good passages we'd read aloud, and then we'd finish by sucking each other off or fucking, often in some new position.
Never had our sex life been so good, even in the first days of marriage. Helen loved the taste of my semen just as I loved the smell and taste of her cunt. Positions that had made us uncomfortable and embarrassed when we had tried them before turned out to be glorious when indulged in deliberately and freely. I developed a passion for entering Helen's cunt from the rear while she was kneeling. Banging it into her with full force only to be met by the cushiony resilience of her rump was a new thrill. And she liked the fact that I could squeeze her nipples or frig her clit from that position.
Helen also went shopping for some new clothes. She had never been dowdy, but she had been a conventional dresser. Now she became both stylish and provocative, at least for home consumption. First she bought some thin nylon bikini panties. But seductive as they were, they weren't enough. So she found a store that sold patterned lace panties. These weren't as sheer as the others, but the added layer of lace in the crotch could be removed to great effect. Once that was done, her bush was clearly visible. She would sit in front of me on the bed in a full skirt with her legs spread, and looking up the dark tunnel between thighs and hem I could see her cunt even to the dark line of her slit, veiled in fine white lace.
Bras were something else. After trying very thin ones and very low cut ones, she decided to try wearing none. The experiment was a great success. She had never looked sexier than she did walking around the house in a mini-skirt and a soft velour top beneath which her tits swayed and bounced, the nipples making points of cloth jut out. Some deep V-neck tops designed to be worn with a blouse under them did still more, as did a couple of see-through blouses she picked up at a boutique.
All of this shopping produced more than just nightly strip shows, however. She also set about redoing my wardrobe in moderation. I was too conservative to go in for much visible change, but she did supply me with net tee-shirts and briefs and some real low-cut boxer shorts that made my equipment particularly noticeable. She even went so far as to take out some of the double layers in the net shorts. When she was finished my cock and balls were no more concealed by my underpants than her pussy was by hers.
What all of this amounted to, however, was playing for time. When it was all over, we either had to put up or shut up. It seems strange, really, that during this period when we were enjoying sex more than ever before we should have been preparing for additional sex, but perhaps it was the anticipation which honed the edge of our inexhaustible lust for each other. This interim period between decision and act was in part delay, but also in part acclimatization. Reforming our habits of sex, reading, and dress also strengthened our resolve and got us ready for bigger and better things.
Finally, the day came, after three or four weeks, when we had to make some definite plans. First and easiest, we decided to buy a polaroid camera. Second, we decided not to write to any swap magazines like the ones we had bought. That still seemed too sordid to us, and the pictures people sent in to them weren't too inviting. Third, we decided to seduce some of our friends into wife swapping and group sex so that at least we would be among beginners.
The question was how to go about it and with whom. We made a list of couples we knew, which was fairly long. Then we cut out those neither of us liked or those one of us didn't like. Next, we cut out a few on grounds of unattractive appearance. Still the list was fairly sizeable, perhaps a dozen couples. Finally came the hard part, trying to guess who would be amenable and approachable. This, after several hours of discussion, pared the list down to three. We picked one by lot, Judy and Dave Harris.
Our mode of procedure was to be cautious but insistent propaganda combined, when the time was right, with indications of willingness on our part.
Fortunately, we had easy access to the Harrises. They were a couple of years older than we were, but I worked with Dave and, as Spring was coming on, played tennis with him. Judy and Helen were close friends from college and went swimming together regularly. They were both very open and frank people, easy to talk to.
My approach to Dave was semi-direct. Locker room conversation being what it is, I brought up the subject of wife swapping in the abstract, saying I had been reading about it. I ventured the sentiment that I wondered what it was like and then let the topic ride.
Less than a week later Dave brought the subject up. I was amazed to have gotten a nibble on the first cast. His discussion was abstract and curiosity-oriented, like mine, but he was clearly interested, even if he himself didn't notice it.
Helen approached Judy through the topic of divorce. Judy had slept with one other guy in college, it turned out, and had tried to put it out of her mind. But Helen's talk of divorcing one man and then sleeping with another brought it out. They concurred that it wasn't particularly hard to imagine screwing someone else and that they had both known a man or two since they had been married whom they wouldn't kick out of bed.
We regaled each other with our successes and at the same time described our prospective lovers' hidden areas to each other. While I kissed and nibbled gently around Helen's blonde crack, she stroked my prick and told me that Judy had silky-looking, dark brown cunt-hair and firm C-cup tits. I told her Dave's penis was shorter than mine when it was soft, which was the only way I had seen it, and that he had a lot of black hair on his thin body. She leaned over me, and we sucked each other to orgasm.
But if the first round was won, there were many others yet to go. After a month or so, Dave and I had talked, at least in theoretical terms, about sleeping with each other's wife. He hadn't rejected the idea; he had brought it up. The subject arose, too, between Judy and Helen. Dave, it seems, had talked around the whole subject to test Judy's feelings, and Judy wanted to test her own reactions on Helen. Helen said she felt Judy was ready to express either horror or amenability at the idea, depending on what she herself said.
"You mean your husband actually suggested that you sleep with Bob and I sleep with him?"
"Well, he didn't actually suggest it, but he implied it."
Helen waited before answering to build up Judy's tension, then she said, "Is he good in bed?"
Judy took this as an affirmative answer and, laughing with relief, answered, "I think he is."
Both of them walked on in a humorous vein, as if the whole thing were a joke, but the die was cast. We decided to invite them over for dessert some night, keep them guessing, and then hit them with it on a second evening.
The first night went perfectly. They were nervous when they arrived because they had a hunch something was up, but a couple of drinks relaxed them. It was clear that they were ready if we tried to broach the subject because Judy was dressed in a short skirt and button-front blouse instead of her almost invariable slacks. This was fortunate because it made Helen's costume look more normal. She was wearing a mini-skirt, unusual for her in public, and velour top without a bra. Both of us were conscious all evening long of both Judy's and Dave's eyes following the sway and bounce of Helen's tits like a hypnotist's pendulum.
Conversation deliberately took an off-color turn. We covered avant-garde movies, books, mores in general and girly magazines. I knew they subscribed to Playboy, and we talked about the efforts of that magazine to make the Playgirl of the month seem like a normal all-American girl. Then Helen turned the conversation: "Why don't you show them the pictures you took of me?"
Even intoxicated, they looked startled and wary as I went to get the pictures. Since we were both so casual and open, however, they soon relaxed again; and we sat on the couch looking at the snapshots. They were all standard Playboy type shots but all quite modest. Skirt hiked up getting out of a car, clinging blouse, bluejeans undone a button or two over bare belly, and finally, on the very bottom, a picture of a different sort. Helen was stretched out on our couch, legs akimbo, stretching her arms and yawning. In the fullness of her stretch, however, one bare breast had lifted out of the restraining hold of her low-necked top, the nipple just peeping out. And her mini-skirt had rumpled up over her abdomen revealing the bottom two or three inches of her white lace panties diving between her spread legs. Through the panties, of course, the nest of hair cresting her prominent mound could clearly be seen along with the top of her honey-dewed slit.
"Oh, you shouldn't have shown them that one, Bob!" cried Helen.
"Why not? It's better then anything in Playboy!" replied Dave, his eyes glued to the snap.
All four of us looked at Helen's pretty cunt for a while, but no one made any further move. The night had reached its climax; the final act would have to wait until we met again. Dave and Judy left fairly soon after that, and Helen and I retired for a good fuck after amorously rehashing the evening's events and tantalizing each other with anticipatory accounts of the Harrises' sexual prowess.
We decided a week was about the right interval to wait before inviting them again. Presumably they would have thought the whole thing over by then, and if they agreed to come, it could be taken as a tacit consent to something more. We waited; we asked them. They said they'd be glad to come.
***
We were both alive with excitement as we waited for evening to come. We had abstained from fucking for two days to guarantee arousal. It seemed incredible that we were really planning to openly and deliberately seduce another couple, but, after all our preparations, it seemed by now preordained. Helen put on her white lace see-through panties, a pair of mesh hose that didn't need a garter belt, and her super V-neck velour top. I could hardly keep my hands off her as I watched her dress. Finally, it was time for them to arrive.
This time there was no tension apparent in them. Judy was sparkling eyed and radiant, Dave darkly aggressive-looking. They had probably had a drink before they came, but we all had a couple more just to be sure. Conversation was the opposite of that the previous week. We talked of general things, people we both knew and so forth. But below the conversational level the situation was entirely different. Instead of the two couples sitting on separate couches, we sat as mixed couples. It gave me an intense thrill to watch Helen turn to face both Dave and us, for this required that she fold one leg under her on the couch. Up went her hemline; down dropped Dave's eyes. At last I could see what I had long imagined, another man gazing lustfully at my wife's scarcely veiled cunt.
For her part, Judy was hardly less forward. Taking her cue from Helen, she hadn't worn a bra. And as she leaned forward in conversation, the scoop neck of her dress fell free and afforded me full view of her splendid tits, large and firm-looking with big, pink, inviting nipples. I wanted to reach in and grab them and suck them, but I stuck to our plan and instead asked if they would like to see some new pictures I had taken of Helen. Needless to say, they did.
I returned with a stack of photos and the camera, as well. Helen and Dave had shifted to the couch next to Judy, and I pulled up a low chair in front of them. This time there was nothing modest about the pictures.
The first series was of Helen in bed with nothing on but her panties. She lay in various postures, all of which featured widely spread legs. In the last of the series she pulled her panties down far enough to display her golden mound.
Next were some shots taken of her bathing with only the refraction of the water concealing her love-nest. Then came the best series of all, a strip show she had done for the camera in a little patch of deserted woods we had found.
We all looked at the pictures intently and in silence. Dave's hand was around Helen's shoulder, and I could see it tighten as he gazed at her pictured charms. Helen was resting one hand on the inside of his thigh about half way up. The protuberance of his erection was immense. Now was the moment to go the rest of the way.
"Since I have the camera here, why don't I take some more shots right now?"
"Okay," piped up Helen on cue. "Take some of me and Dave."
Dave froze. Helen reached for the sides of her deep V-neckline and pulled them apart. Out sprang her tender, lovable globes, now pushed up and cradled by the garment coming below them.
"Come on, Dave! Don't he shy." She nestled deeper against his shoulder so that the arm draped around her neck could scarcely avoid dropping onto the inviting mound of her breast. She picked up his other hand and placed it over her other breast as she turned to let him kiss her. Finally Dave reacted positively, kissing her fiercely and moving his fingers to her sensitive nipples. I snapped the shutter and pulled the film to start the developing process. Judy was staring at Dave and Helen who were still embracing. Helen's hand was now stroking the whole bulging area of Dave's crotch.
"The next shot will be of you, okay?"
Judy turned and looked at me, recalled from her mesmerization not just by my words but by the fact that as I uttered them I slid my arm all the way up the dark tunnel of cloth and skin between her legs, brushing my fingertips lightly along smooth nylon and smoother, softer flesh until they came to rest on the soft bulge of her twat, only a double layer of thin nylon panty separating them from the creamy entrance to her cunt. Now she stared at me, still panting, a flush rising to her cheeks. I moved my fingertips ever so lightly across the profile of her slit. I could feel the sticky syrup of her excitement seeping through her panties as I pushed against the cleft between her swollen lips. I have no idea what was turning over in her mind, but presently she stammered, "Okay... I guess so."
I announced that the picture was ready, to recall Helen and Dave from their passion. As we all looked at the snap, Dave never stopped kneading Helen's tits, nor did she take her massaging hand from his crotch. I repeated that it was Judy's turn now and eyed her critically to dream up a pose. She was still blushing and glanced furtively at Dave. Now was his last chance. I wanted to move slowly and deliberately so he would see exactly where things stood and could say no at any point. Either he would react as a traditional husband and call the whole thing off in a burst of indignation, or he would gobble up the sensation of seeing his wife handled and uncovered by another man the way I had done seeing him fondling Helen's nipples. Helen, naturally, increased the chances of the balance going in the later direction by continuing her delicate stroking of his clothed prick.
Judy turned her timid eyes and blushing cheeks to me once again as I moved to pose her. I slid her dress off her shoulders with both hands and slowly moved down the neckline, over the rounded foothills to her breasts, pulling the cloth lower and lower. One bright pink nipple popped out, stiff and hard, then the other. Her breasts were now entirely bare, and I massaged them lightly and twisted the pretty points before going further. A sideways glance assured me that Dave was playing the voyeur rather than the husband, so I pushed her back on the couch in a semi-reclining position. I lifted her left leg, bent at the knee, and placed her foot on the couch by her butt. At last the dark tunnel was partially opened to the light. I could see her panties, pink and sheer, shading darker over her triangle of cunt hair. Helen had gotten Dave unzipped and was working on his bare cock, which stuck out surprisingly far from his fly. She had also spread her own legs to give free play to his hand which now was exploring her crotch.
Judy still eyed me, and she seemed on the verge of swooning. I was sure of Dave now, but still not entirely convinced that Judy wasn't about to crack. The spell of the moment could have been broken by any sudden sound or movement. But there was none. I raised her other leg and propped it on the couch next to the first. Her skirt was bunched in her lap, the back of the hem hanging over the edge of the couch. The bottoms and insides of her thighs filled my gaze with the progression from stocking to skin to cunt. Exciting brown hairs protruded from beneath the elastic of her panties. I took her knees and spread them to a great width. The whole vista of her cunt was open. Only a three-inch band of pink nylon, darkening damply in the center, still covered the juice-filled slit that I would soon be burying my prick in. I almost had an orgasm looking at it.
My plan had been to take the shot as it now appeared, timid face peeking over peaked tits mounting above a wide-open, but still covered, twat. But then I had another idea, a final test of everybody's commitment. I took her hand in mine while with the other hand I pulled aside the damp band of nylon. For an instant I dipped my fingers into her juice, and then I put her hand in place to hold her panties aside. Now the picture was complete. Judy was deliberately showing her open crack to another man while Dave looked on, his hand slick with the cunt cream of another woman. I snapped the picture, pulled the film, and fell to my knees, my mouth completely seduced by the deliciously inviting cunt before me.
The warmth of Judy's inner thighs caressed my cheeks and ears as I took charge of holding her panties aside and buried my tongue in her slit. The heady, murky smell and slippery, viscous taste of cunt cream exploded in my senses. It was the same as Helen's and yet different. Distantly I heard Judy make little cries as I licked her clitoris.
I stood up, forgetting about the picture entirely and shed my trousers in an instant. My shirt took no longer. Sandals and shorts, and then I was naked, standing over this beautiful, cowering woman with a feeling of conquest I had never had before. My cock felt heavier and longer and my balls more pendulous than ever before. Judy's look was now more one of raw lust than shyness. I beckoned to her to stand. She stood, and with a simple movement I slid her dress the rest of the way over her hips and to the floor. She stepped out of it. I unhooked her garter belt and slid down her panties and stockings. She was naked. I drew her into an embrace. Her full tits were cushions on my chest, her fingers like feathers on my cock and balls. My hand was in her cunt.
We stood there in that pose for minutes, for our attention had now returned to our legal mates. Both of them were naked. Dave had his tongue buried in Helen's mouth and two fingers buried in her vagina. Again and again Helen jerked against the two probing fingers, trying to fuck herself on them; and then he laid her out on the couch. I tensed as I saw the bright red head of Dave's penis poised at the entrance to the delicate blonde cunt I knew so well. Judy tensed beside me. Then he was up her in one great stroke. I could almost feel how she must have felt as eight thick inches of alien prick slid into her body. It was done; Helen was being fucked by another man in my presence. The sensation was indescribable.
Suddenly I lusted to take Judy as hard as I could. I pulled her to the other couch and threw her down. She couldn't have been more ready, her curly brown mound thrust upward; her knees spread wide, her arms reaching toward me in desire. I descended on her and immediately jammed my prick into her. The hot wet channel of her sex felt like balm but served as goad. I wanted to get into her farther, harder. Again and again I shoved it in with all my might, grunting at the shock. Each time her pelvis rose to meet the thrust. Her eyes were shut, and in a rhythmical, throaty whisper she intoned, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." with each stroke. I rose to my peak and blasted off, jetting my come in great gushes deep inside her. I hardly noticed the little cries she made as orgasm gripped her simultaneously in spasms of release.
Minutes later I raised myself from her and pulled my quelled cock from its warm pocket. I sat up and looked around. Helen and Dave were sitting lovingly together on the other couch watching us. Helen looked gorgeous with her hair disheveled and drops of sweat marking her brow and the valley between her breasts. No less did I feel an inexplicable warmth toward Dave. They looked at me with their completely relaxed smiles, and I laughed. Judy sat up and I gave her a big hug. Helen and Dave came over to our couch, and Helen gave a little yelp as Dave's semen started to flow down her leg.
We sat in mixed couples, girls in the middle, and we cuddled languorously. I sopped my hand first in Judy's cunt and then in Helen's. I sucked their tits. Such an atmosphere of love and friendship I had never experienced. Gradually the girls' fondling raised our pricks again, and it seemed that we might have another round. But Dave decided that they should leave instead. Judy disappeared to wash her twat while Dave dressed. In a long leave-taking we all said how much we liked it and agreed to do it again. Dave asked for the picture of him and Helen, and I gave it to him, only regretting that I had forgotten and overdeveloped the one of Judy displaying herself so shyly.
We saw them out the door and then turned to each other amorously. My cock was rigid in an instant when I clasped Helen to me. We went into the bedroom and fucked with slow passion. We needed no other comment on the effects of our experiment. Helen did write of it in her diary, however, and here are a couple of pertinent points:
"The thrill was unbelievable when Bob pulled her other leg up and spread her knees. It was just then that Dave got his hand inside my pants. I almost came. There was Judy's wide open pussy, and Bob was about to violate it... I've never wanted so much to be fucked hard and brutally. I wanted to be raped, to feel a strange prick shooting into me... I couldn't believe how tender and cute Bob looked, all tuckered out and collapsed on top of Judy. I wish he could fuck her again right away. Seeing it go in and out of her cunt really turned me on. I can see now why boys like to lick girls' cunts. They can look awfully sexy with a big prick in them..."
Chapter Two
We saw the Harrises pretty regularly after that night. We followed the same pattern as the first time. Once a week or so we would go over to their house or they would come to ours. We'd talk and drink and eventually show pictures or get into the sex bag some other way. Then we'd top the evening off by petting and fucking. The distinctive flavor, fragrance, and feel of Judy's cunt became as familiar to me as Helen's but the sensation that she was someone else's wife never let up and continued to spice the experience. Likewise, the repeated sight of Dave's penis slipping in and out of Helen's hot crack continued to excite me to new peaks. Often we would fuck side by side on the bed and then fall asleep four abreast with the girls in the middle. Only later did I learn from Helen's diary that, while Dave and I slept the sleep of satisfied men, the girls sometimes remained wakeful.
"Tonight I could hardly wait for the boys to fall asleep. Ever since last time I've been thinking how cute Judy looks when she's just been fucked. Tonight I did something about it. The fellows rolled over and were out like a light, but Judy was still awake. We were almost nose to nose already so all I had to do was to move my hand onto her hip and butt. She must have been thinking just what I had been thinking because she opened her eyes and gave me a sultry look and a little smile. Then I moved my hand to her sweet pussy, and she opened her legs a bit. Her cunt was so wet and hot and sexy I almost creamed just feeling it. I can see why fellows like to feel girls' slits. Her clitoris is bigger than mine. I wanted to suck her, all of a sudden, but I didn't want to wake the boys, so I just started to frig her real soft and slow. She was aroused and beginning to breathe hard in about a minute. Then I felt her little fingers feeling for my cunt. She was a lot softer and more gentle than a boy, but she knew right where to get me. We had to keep it slow so the boys wouldn't wake up, but we came in only a few minutes."
Thus Helen was adding a whole new dimension to her sex life while I still had my hands full just with the swapping we were doing. I won't deny that Dave's cock absorbed my attention and even admiration from time to time, but this was usually in its capacity as penetrator of my wife's orifices rather than in its own right. Truthfully, I was too absorbed with cunt to think about cock.
Gradually, as our relationship with the Harrises continued, my entire outlook on women changed. Girls had always attracted me, to state a truism, but what attracted me about them had always been their style and outward appearance. I was attracted sexually, but not consciously so. Now, that all changed. Whenever I saw a pretty girl I would look at her as a sexual being. Pretty legs were pretty legs, but now they also became directly and deliciously attached to the crotch. When my eyes reached the hemline, they no longer saw a skirt; they saw thighs and hips and crotch covered with a garment in itself irrelevant. In the same way I ceased looking at girls' breasts as they were molded into some unnatural, cosmetic shape by their brassieres; instead I saw natural, soft warm tits with hard, succulent tips, unfortunately and hopefully temporarily, constricted by fashion. Whereas before only Helen and then Judy were fully sexual women in my sight, now I gradually came to see women in general as sexual beings.
Needless to say, my preoccupation with such thoughts and feelings had its negative side. At work my efficiency decreased whenever a secretary or woman employee entered the room. On the street and in stores I encountered frozen looks as I stared at girls more intently than politeness allowed. But none of these things detracted from the fact that life was more alive and worth living now that I was cunt-conscious.
***
It wasn't too long before the four of us began to talk about expanding our little group with some more couples, but it was quite a while before we decided just what to do. What we settled on was a party which we would try to transform into an orgy. We were complete novices at this sort of thing, of course, but we decided to give it a try anyway. Hopefully, if it didn't work, people would be too drunk to remember it the next day.
Helen and I went back to our list of couples from which we had picked Dave and Judy, and they compiled a similar list. Between us, we produced a fist of five prime couples whom we settled on as the candidates for a surprise orgy, and we added to those five about eight more for camouflage. These we expected would leave early making the five others feel like an accidental residue rather than a deliberately chosen group. We sent out invitations billing it as a party on a hippie theme, something that was sort of titillating and suggestive all by itself in a quiet suburb like P. Anything strange at the party would be attributed to the theme, we figured, in case the whole thing was a bust.
Waiting for the party to start was nerve-racking. We had converted our living room into a clean, middle-class version of a pad. There were only a few lights, and most of the furniture had been taken out and replaced by cushions and pillows and a couple of single-bed mattresses. Dave and Judy supplied the music, since our own tastes at that time ran more to Roger Miller and Herb Alpert. Helen had bought a body stocking and a loose-knit shift. The nude color of the stocking showing through the dress gave a sexy, but at the same time obviously proper, impression. Judy had bought herself a new dress, too, which conveyed the same impression. It was a zip front mini-dress with circles cut out at the hips. Dave and I were in turtlenecks.
After an interminable wait, the first people arrived. Then came another interminable wait for the party really to begin. By ten-thirty everyone had had at least two drinks, except for a couple of teetotalers; a few couples were even dancing. Surreptitiously, we increased the music volume and decreased the lighting. Within half an hour everything was going very smoothly indeed. Between the darkness, the dancing and the liquor, a state of anonymity had descended on the group.
I spotted one of our targets, a Swedish girl named Greta, momentarily sitting alone, and joined her. We got into a casual conversation, and it was the easiest thing in the world to slip my arm around her. Moments later I dropped my other hand to her knee, and the die was cast. In a matter of seconds I saw her look of puzzlement change to one of understanding and then into one of acceptance. Her body, which had tensed, relaxed against mine. The casual conversation continued, but it was anticlimactic. I couldn't believe how easily I had just tacitly seduced Bent Olson's wife. It was as if she had simply been waiting for an unmistakable proposition. We got up to dance. She was lithe and smooth in her movements. As I watched her admiringly, I stripped her in my imagination and saw her thick blonde bush which before the night was through I hoped to be inside of.
After we danced for a while, her husband showed up. We chatted, and he mentioned that Helen had suggested that they stay for a while after the bulk of the party left. He had a funny look on his face as he told me of the invitation, and I could well imagine under what circumstances Helen had proffered it and with what implication. I seconded it blandly, however, and confirmed it with the two of them. Then I retreated.
It was getting toward midnight, and the party was already thinning out. I headed for the bathroom but stopped at the dining room door. We had moved our couches into the room, and despite the dimness I could see that one of them was occupied. First I could only make out two figures, and then I realized that it was Judy ensconced with a guy named Ben. He was half lying on her, kissing her, and what light there was nicely illuminated the perfect curve of one bare breast. The zipper in front had served its purpose; I could count on another couple for our party later.
Coming back from the john, they were gone. I bid a camouflage couple good-bye and took stock of the party remaining. Only one unwanted couple had yet to leave, and they were donning their coats. Otherwise we were all set, with the exception of one target couple that had left before they had been properly approached. A thin, satanic-looking guy named Frank was dancing with Helen, and, by the way she was bouncing and he was staring, I could tell she had found a moment to shuck her body stocking. Dave was visiting his attentions on Marie, a tiny, slender girl with straight black hair to her waist. She was Frank's wife, and they were the closest thing to real hippies we had invited.
The last of the unwanted guests now left, and on cue Judy let it be known that I had a party game that we were going to play. She said it with a leer so that no one would get disgusted at the thought of a stupid party game and leave immediately. I don't really remember just what I said as I brought my contraption out, but it didn't matter. There was probably no one in the room who expected anything other than some kind of sex game. There was simply an aura of sex and expectancy in the room that hadn't been there only minutes before. As I explained the game to them, Sue Ann Miller was sitting right before me, beside her husband, Roger, staring up at me with frank blue eyes as if she was totally unaware that in her cross-legged position I could see under her skirt directly up to the band of white panty. She didn't bat an eye when I read the rules.
The apparatus was a very large and elaborate dial which sat in the middle of the floor. Each person drew a number. Then, one after another, everyone was to spin the arm of the dial until it landed on the number of someone of the opposite sex, other than their spouse. Some spaces on the dial weren't numbered but had little envelopes at them instead, so several spins were usually needed. Then the lights would be turned out for three minutes during which the girls would remove a piece of clothing from the men. At the sound of the timer the lights would go on for a few seconds for people to find their next partner and then go off again while the men removed a female garment. Then would come a new round. It sounded sort of silly, and it was sort of silly, but we thought it would do for breaking the ice.
The first round of numbers were chosen. Ann Cummings drew me. Dave controlled the light switch and timer. Suddenly it was black, and there was a flurry of movement. A female crawled across me, and I slid my hand up her dress just for the sheer joy of it. My shoes had disappeared earlier, and I shed my socks before Ann got to me so she would have to start on something major. She was a regal, cool-looking woman who kept her hair in a bun, and when she found me, she was businesslike. Kneeling before me, she felt around for my shirt and pulled it neatly over my head. Her job in the silly game was done, but before she could move away I reached out unerringly and inserted my hand between her legs. She didn't react; she just knelt there in the dark as I fingered the warm softness of her crotch.
The light coming on suddenly after three minutes caught me with my arm still up her dress, and she instinctively pulled her hem down. She needn't have bothered, for the first glance I noticed that her husband, Ben, was too absorbed in Greta to care what she was doing. I also caught sight of little Marie whose number I had drawn for my first turn. The lights went out again, and I crawled toward where I had seen her.
I found her quickly and identified her in the dark, unnecessarily, by giving my hands a quick tour of her body. I found the zipper behind her back and gave it a pull. Her dress fell off her shoulders to her waist. She stood up and let it fall the rest of the way to the floor. I disentangled her feet, and as I raised my head again, my nose informed me of the geometry of the situation. Very strong and just inches away was the heady, sensual odor that comes only from a woman's cunt. My hands found the backs of her thighs, and I pulled her forward. I plunged my mouth and nose into the nylon-covered mound I couldn't see. The scent intoxicated me. I sent my tongue between her legs searching for the depression between her lips. Her little hands grabbed my head and held it closer to her body. I had just tasted the salt-sweet nectar seeping through her panties when the lights went on again.
This time I was the one who reacted, drawing my head back quickly and looking around. The only person looking at us was Helen, who seemed to have some kind of smirk on her face. I don't know whether it was from seeing my guilty look or from the sensations caused by Roger Miller against whom she was leaning, nestled between his legs, while he reached around her and fondled her bare nipples.
The group now recongregated for a new round of number choosing, and as it proceeded, I took stock of the company. The men were wearing nothing but trousers and underpants, the combination of which did nothing to conceal their stiff erections. Anyone who had been wearing a tee-shirt had doffed it independently, just as I had gotten rid of my shoes and socks. Helen and Judy were down to their panties already and were the focus of most male eyes. They sat cross-legged, their breasts looking even more opulent than usual, their triangles of fur showing through their translucent panties. I wanted nothing so much as to see someone at that moment jump on Helen and ram his prick up her, and for the first time I realized the second function of sex games. Not only do they break the ice, but they artificially draw out what could be finished in a flurry of activity.
The other girls were in various stages of undress. Marie, of course, was down to panties and bra, as was Ann Cummings. Sue Ann still had on her skirt and was still sitting with crossed legs, her crotch visible. Greta, too, had lost only a blouse. Surprisingly enough, everyone was quite absorbed in the second round of number choosing. I had anticipated that interest, in what was basically a stupid game, would flag, but people's minds were captured by the randomness of the thing. It was fate rather than choice that was forcing them into the arms of one partner after another.
The lights went out again, and Sue Ann was upon me. She undid my belt and zipper and dragged my trousers off. Then she started to explore my feverish genitals. I lay back on the mattress and luxuriated in the feel of her hands fondling my balls and squeezing my cock. She got it out through the slit in my shorts, and in the deep darkness of the room I felt a phantom tongue lick slowly at the head of my penis. Naturally, that was just the moment for the lights to go on.
My next number was cool Ann Cummings. I found her in seconds and got her bra off with almost frantic speed. More than anything I wanted to plunge in and fuck her, but I didn't want to spoil the evening. I pushed her back on the mattress and lay down heavily on her. She spread her legs to receive me, and I started desperately trying to jab my cock through her panties. Her cool demeanor was gone in a flash. She bucked and thrust as I came vainly down on her. I was wrenching her full tits brutally. Then I slid down her body a bit and started to suck and bite her nipples alternately. When the lights came on it was hard to stop, but I managed. Ben Cummings was staring at us curiously. Undoubtedly, whatever sexual adventures they had had, this was the first time he had actually seen his wife beneath another man. He was in no position to object, since Judy, who had lost her panties, was beside him, and he had two fingers of his right hand stuck deep in her cunt. But it was obviously an ambivalent situation for him.
We gathered around the dial for the third round. Besides Judy, Helen was the only one naked. Her cunt looked uncommonly beautiful as she sat with parted legs. The prominent blonde bush descended to the swollen reddish rolls of her cunt lips which, in turn, were open in readiness, revealing the brighter red flesh of her inner lips and slit. After Ben got his fingers out so everyone could see, Judy's crack was equally gorgeous, but it was Helen's that particularly turned me on.
Greta and Sue Ann were still in possession of their bras. Ann, of course, had lost hers to me; and next to Helen's slit it was her full, slightly pendulous tits with stiff brownish nipples that attracted my interest. Marie's bra had gone, as well, and her tits were also nice, although slighter. But I guess it's the tit you've just sucked that attracts you most.
The fellows were all in shorts, which were terribly distended, except for Bent's and mine. Our pricks were sticking out, and I was fully conscious of female eyes gazing at us.
Before starting the next round of number choosing, we voted to have Greta and Sue Ann lose their bras to catch up with the group. The act was quickly accomplished, and now there were six pairs of bare breasts in the room. Greta's were somewhat flat and went well with her tall, thin model's figure and long blonde hair. Sue Ann's were the largest of all and were furnished with large nipples and aureoles some two inches in diameter. Finally everyone had a new number, and the lights went out again.
Judy drew me, and after getting my pants off, she climbed astraddle me for a quick sixty-nine. The familiar mouth closed over my prick, which was somewhat cooled after the intermission. I nibbled gently at her warm, wet cunt. I became aware of someone leaning against my right side and realized that right beside us some girl was sucking off some guy. I groped with my free right hand and found first thighs and then crotch. The girl had panties on, but that didn't prevent her from squirming against my fingers. I got inside the elastic band around her leg and started to probe her creamy pussy-flesh. When the light came on, I looked to see who it was, and little Marie looked back at me. I sniffed my fingers and smiled.
Then the lights dimmed for the final time. I had failed to spot Sue Ann and wasted time crawling about over heaps of clothing and writhing bodies. Finally I found her and yanked her panties off. I dove for her cunt to get at least a taste of it before the three minutes expired. It was the wettest I had ever known. I buried my mouth in it and could have sucked indefinitely had it not been for the lights.
People didn't want to stop this time since everyone was now naked, but we convinced them that there was more. Roger reluctantly pulled his prick out of Greta, and other people stopped sucking. Once again we sat around the dial, all naked, men's faces smeared with cunt juice and their pricks glistening with saliva. It was immediately obvious that while none of us was embarrassingly undersized, Frank was truly immense. His prick was two-inches thick, heavily veined and slightly curving to a length of what looked to be ten inches. It was crowned with an even thicker purplish-red head, and beneath it hung an enormous sac of balls. I looked at Marie and at her perfectly normal looking crack surmounted by curly black hair, and I wondered if it was really possible that he stuffed all of that inside her.
As I looked around me, I became dazzled by the number of ready cunts, but I had to explain the rest of the game and couldn't waste time sightseeing. The ladies spun again for new partners, and then their numerical order was established. The first girl in line would spin until she hit a space with an envelope. Inside the envelope was a photograph of a sex act. The girl who drew it had her choice of doing it with her new partner or giving it to her husband to do with his.
The first to spin was Sue Ann. She tore open the envelope and stared at the photo. Then she announced that she would do it and showed us what it was. It was simply an ordinary, woman-on-top fuck, albeit a well-photographed one, with Dave and Helen as models. Sue Ann's partner was Ben Cummings. He obediently lay on a mattress with his pole sticking up in the air. Sue Ann straddled him and reached between her legs to position his prick at the mouth of her cunt. Then she sank slowly, absorbing inch after inch of prick inside her. I heard a quickly drawn breath at my side and realized that Ann Cummings was beside me. Her eyes were riveted to the junction between her husband's cock and Sue Ann's cunt. I put my arm around her to reassure her. She grabbed my cock and squeezed it hard. Now Sue Ann was beginning to move, pumping up and down. Ben's prick reappeared every few seconds bathed in fluid. He was mauling her big tits, and at the top of her stroke she was able to let him suck them. The show, however, was a short one. After the buildup we had had it took only a couple of minutes for Sue Ann to bring him off. Suddenly she sank down on him hard, and he bucked like a wild horse. Sue Ann let out a cry as his jerking cock brought her off and then collapsed on him. It was only then that I noticed that in my own excitement I had started frigging Ann, and I stopped.
Next up was Greta, who drew a photograph of a sixty-nine. Dave was her partner, and they went to it with great gusto. Unfortunately there's little spectator sport in sixty-nine, and we all waited impatiently for them to finish. Sue Ann and Ben had recovered and rejoined the group. It turned me on to see Ben's come trickle out of Sue Ann.
Marie was next and drew a standing fuck, which was very appropriate since she was the smallest girl in the room. I was her partner. I lifted her up, and she clasped her legs around me. Then I slowly lowered her until my cock was nestling in her cunt mouth. She gave me an eager, bright-eyed look, and I lowered her farther. Down she slid, impaled on my penis. The feeling was exquisite. It was hard to start any motion going, but after the long buildup, we hardly needed it. I was up to the hilt inside her. We jiggled around a bit, and the bright look in her eyes became hysterical. She gave a series of gasps, and then her cunt grabbed me like a fist. Contraction after contraction gripped my prick, and in a moment I was at my own peak. I practically exploded inside her. Never had I had such a huge orgasm. I almost fell but caught myself and lowered us both to a mattress. She was still seated across my lap with my prick inside her. Despite the orgasm I was still pretty stiff. I lay back and rolled over until I was on top of her, my prick never having left her body. Her tiny body underneath me gave me new energy, and I started to fuck her for real. I socked it to her with full force until she cried out in pleasure at each blow, and then we both came again.
By the time we had recovered, we had missed Bent's match with Ann Cummings and Judy's with Roger Miller. There was only one couple left and one picture. The verdict was that Helen was to straddle enormous Frank while he was seated. Ben and Ann had done the same thing except that this time the girl was to face outward. I never thought it would work. I couldn't believe that Helen's twat could take such a massive thing. But it did. With great care and effort she pressed herself down on him, with each attempt taking a little bit more into her. Finally it was all in, and she began to move. At first it was slow and arduous, but soon she was moving normally. And then she was fairly jumping up and down and grunting as she rode toward her climax. Unbelievably, my own cock was hard as a rock once again. I knelt in front of her so I could see more clearly the piston of flesh sliding in and out of her. Irresistibly my hand was drawn to fondle Frank's huge balls and feel the slippery column of his prick. This spurred his orgasm, and with three mighty jerks he inundated my wife's vagina.
With that, the planned entertainment of the evening ended. Marie and I were not the only ones who had been indulging ourselves in a second round, and fucking went on for a little while longer. Ann Cummings wanted to suck me off, and I wasn't one to refuse her, while at the same time I frigged dear Judy's crack, which was like a swamp after inundations from both Roger and Bent.
But soon enough everything was truly over; everyone was exhausted. Some clothes were put on, and underclothes were stuffed in pockets and handbags. Even after three superb orgasms, the sight of these naked girls now clothed without underwear brought me up again. As each one said good-bye I reached under her dress and felt her cunt. It seemed like a very natural and ordinary intimacy, which no one minded. Then, finally, everyone was gone. Helen and I retired and slept soundly in each other's arms.
***
This narrative, as the reader is doubtless aware, has been a very one-sided one; for at this stage in my sex life nothing registered in my memory except my own personal feelings and what I perceived of those of my immediate partner. Nor in this case do I have my wife's diary to refer to as a corrective to my one-sided vision. To this day I don't really know how the evening could have come about in the way I remembered it. I assume that the magic ingredient was that inadvertently we and the Harrises had chosen for our orgy couples who were already experienced in wife swapping, but I can't even be sure of that. Two of the couples we never saw again in an intimate way. We were hesitant after our first success to push our luck and try again too soon, and in the meantime the Cummings had been transferred out of town. The Swedes, Bent and Greta, were friends primarily of Dave and Judy. We invited them to our next event, but they refused by mail, and we crossed them off our list.
The other two couples, Roger and Sue Ann Miller and Frank and Marie Cordoba, it turned out, were not inexperienced. When Helen left and I first became interested in writing up the story of our sexual experiences, Frank and Marie were no longer available for consultation about their experiences, before meeting us, as will become understandable when I get to that part of the story. But Roger and Sue Ann were, and I taped a conversation I had with them about their early sex lives. What follows is a transcription of that tape.
Chapter Three
"Go ahead, Sue Ann. It's on," I said, indicating the tape recorder.
"Well, I'll spare you the clever bits about playing doctor with my cousins at age seven and showing myself to a little boy for comparison at age eight and go on to the pubescent age. My trouble, or at least so my mom used to tell me at the time, was that I couldn't sit with my legs together. I was a tomboy and always wore pants if I could. When I had to wear skirts, I wore them like pants and refused to think about modesty, which I thought was pretty silly. A lot of girls go through this stage. After all, it is pretty silly when you're still a little girl. Most of them grow out of it when they start to get breasts, though. I was different that way.
"It might have been the fact that my mother kept nagging me so much about it. Maybe I built up a block against it. Anyway, whatever it was, I kept on sitting with my legs apart after it started to make a difference. It became a reflex with me, a habit which I couldn't break. Skirts were pretty long then, so it didn't make too much difference. But when the styles changed early in high school, it really started to matter. I was already pretty well developed by that time, and from my girl friends I had found out what my cunt was really for. Still, my few dates had been timid things with hand-holding and the like as the highlight.
"What changed all that was an incident that happened at a church youth meeting. We had been doing various youth meeting things, and I had met a guy named George who was two years older than I. He seemed to like me, and when the leader told us we were going to see a movie, I sat on the floor next to him, naturally with my legs a bit too far apart for modesty. So the lights went out, and the movie started, and suddenly I felt his hand on the underside of my thigh, almost touching my panties. Going from hand-holding to this in one fell swoop was quite a switch, and instead of doing anything I just froze, stupefied. And then his hand was there; just like that. He was pressing and massaging and feeling all over my cunt. Before I had frozen because I was stupefied, but now I froze because it felt so nice, and I didn't want him to quit. The movie was going on about the evils of alcohol or something, and everyone was looking forward, so they couldn't spot us. After a couple of minutes, he got under the cloth and slipped his finger in. I remember I was trembling like a leaf, but I didn't dare move. He was squeezing my lips and trying to get his finger all the way up me, and then he stopped suddenly. The movie was over.
"The next ten minutes between the end of the film and the adjournment of the meeting were the longest I've ever spent. I couldn't do, or say anything, I was so excited. I thought I might faint. George kept away from me so no one would catch on and then made a big point of asking if I needed a ride home. I usually waited with a couple of friends for one of our mothers to pick us up, so I told them I had a ride and left with him.
"I remember he had an old Rambler with reclining seats. I snuggled up to him, and he drove out to a dirt road by the river. Then we went to it. I was only fifteen, remember, and I had never really ever talked to him before. But his hand in my crotch had turned me on like you turn on an electric light. We kissed furiously, and he started feeling my cunt again, this time under my panties so his whole hand was on me. Pretty soon he had my blouse and bra off and was sucking my titties while I swooned. He got his prick out and I practically tore it off him. Then, finally, he rolled on top of me and after a few tries drove it in. I'll never forget that fuck. Would you believe? I came! The very first time. Of course, I only found out later how oversexed I was compared with my friends.
"Ever since that time it's been like a one-way street called sex. He taught me about contraception and how to suck him off and everything, and we went steady until he went off to college the next year. After that I screwed around with two or three guys, but I didn't get serious.
"When I went to college, it was more of the same thing. I got laid after my first freshman mixer. Naturally, this gained me something of a reputation, and before long I was getting invited to a lot of fraternity parties.
"I remember one in particular where my date, after feeling me up and getting me real hot, talked me into doing a strip. All the guys and their dates -- everyone was smashed -- gathered round and some music with a heavy beat was put on. I got up on this real heavy oak dining table and started walking up and down with the music. They all clapped and whistled, and I really began to get into the spirit of the thing. First I pulled my sweater up until it was just under my breasts; then I slowly eased it over them while I twisted my hips around. It was probably pretty amateurish, but they seemed to like it. I pulled the sweater over my head and danced a little with my arms up. I threw the sweater into the audience and slowly reached behind me and unhooked my bra. I held the two ends of it out to the sides and shrugged the straps off my shoulders so it was like a screen in front of my tits. They all whistled and yelled, 'Take it off!'
"After teasing them a little this way, I took it off and threw it to them. Now, I was pretty proud of my tits -- still am, as a matter of fact -- so I danced and shook them around. And then I got on my knees and let them hang in the faces of the guys in the front row. It really turned me on to have them all feeling them.
After that, I remember, I stayed on my knees, leaned my body way back, and rubbed my skirt around over my thighs. I swayed and rubbed to the music, all the time getting it up higher until my panties were showing. One guy reached between my legs and put his hand on my mound, but I was really into the dance and pushed it away. I unzipped my skirt at the side and stepped up out of it, leaving it on the tabletop. Then I just danced with only my panties on while they chanted, 'Take it off!'
"I was pretty uncertain about what to do next. I hadn't planned to take everything off. I listened to them shout and looked out at their faces. They were all excited and eager-looking except for a few who had migrated toward the back of the room and were getting something off their own dates. Most of the other girls had left the room, but a few were watching closely. I could see at the back of the room one girl with bare tits and another with spread legs enjoying her boyfriend's fingers. I also discovered that the bright eyes on a blonde girl in the crowd at the front weren't just from my dancing but were from her date's hand underneath her dress in the rear and from the hand of another guy surreptitiously inserted under her waistband in front.
"Anyway, they were yelling and clapping, and I was dancing and shaking my tits, and people were feeling each other up all over. So I decided what the hell and slowly slid my panties down. I'm telling you, ten pairs of hot male eyes hitting your cunt at the same time can be felt, and felt hard! Before then I had been too much into the dance to feel all that turned on sexually, but as soon as my panties were off, I began to cream. My twat was tingling. I danced nude a bit and then went down on my knees like I'd done earlier. I just lay back swaying with my eyes shut and let myself be inundated by hands on my cunt.
"From there it was only a short step to laying on the table with my butt at the edge. I don't know who was first, but they kept on coming. Prick after prick went sliding in. I felt my hole fill with come again and again only to have the stuff squeezed out by the next guy. Maybe a gang-bang is the worst thing imaginable for most girls, but I loved it. I felt like I was all cunt and they were all cock. I think only about ten of the guys actually fucked me; the rest were too timid or afraid of offending their dates, or perhaps they were getting it from some other girl. All I know is I got a lot, and I liked it."
"How did you come to get married after a career like that, Sue Ann?" I asked her, but Roger broke in.
"Let me tell about that. You're hogging all the conversation.
"I was going with Sue Ann's roommate, a girl named Vicky. She was a real tall, black-haired girl; thin but sexy as all get out. Anyhow, I had been laying Vicky during visiting hours in my dorm for a couple of months. Boys weren't allowed to visit the girls, dorms except on Sunday afternoons; so I had never met Sue Ann, although Vicky had told me she was a neat girl and I guess had mentioned me to Sue Ann."
Sue Ann interrupted with, "Mentioned you! When she came back from your room, she couldn't talk about anything else. She would deliberately tell me every little detail in order to get me heated up, and then she'd tease me about being hot until we ended up in bed wrestling."
"You call that wrestling?" Roger teased.
"Okay, so we sucked each other off. She was a nice girl; I liked her a lot. It's true enough, I knew what your semen tasted like from licking it out of Vicky's cunt long before I knew what your cock tasted like."
"Quiet, I'm telling the story," Roger said. "This one day Vicky invited me over on Sunday. It sounded like a drag, but I thought it might be possible to get a little something even there. What I didn't know was that Vicky and Sue Ann had plans.
"I got there at two, and we had until four. Sue Ann wasn't in the room, so Vicky and I started to make out. She had small tits with really great nipples, and I was sucking one of them and fingering her pussy when the hall door suddenly opened and shut.
"I looked up quickly, and there stood Sue Ann, who had just come from the shower down the hall..."
"I had on a terry cloth bed jacket that came to just below my butt, and I was holding it shut very loosely in front," Sue Ann interjected.
"Come on, let me tell it! There she was with her boobs practically hanging out of her jacket saying something like, 'Ho, ho! What's, going on here?' Vicky pretended to be slightly flustered and introduced us. Sue Ann walked across the room to say hello and stood directly in front of me so my face was on a level only a couple of feet from her pussy. And she wasn't holding that jacket closed so tight that a bit of cunt hair couldn't be seen, either!
"The question was, what to do next, and I didn't have the answer. Vicky did, though. She got up and pulled Sue Ann's jacket open so I could get a good look. Then she pushed Sue Ann toward me. I was sitting on the edge of the couch, and she straddled my legs and brought her bush closer and closer to my face. When it was only inches away, my resistance collapsed, and I buried my nose in it. I licked her slit tentatively and found it was ready to go. Then I burrowed in, immersing myself in her cunt. I could feel Vicky at work on my fly, and in a second she had my cock in her mouth. It was glorious! I was sucking away at Sue Ann while Vicky was sucking my cock and fiddling with my balls.
"This wasn't enough for Vicky, though. She kept bringing me just to the point of climax and then letting me down. Then she pulled her head back and got Sue Ann to kneel on the couch. Vicky guided my penis up Sue Ann's cunt, and the union was made. There was scarcely any need to move. Just feeling Sue Ann's creamy inside and staring at those big tits was enough to bring me to the brink again. But Vicky still had other ideas. She climbed onto the couch and stood straddling between us facing me. For the first time, but hardly the last, I switched from sucking one cunt, a light blonde, fringed one, to sucking another, buried in jet black fur in only a few minutes. Vicky was gooey and sweet, and she held my head hard against her crack. Sue Ann shoved a finger all the way up her ass, and I reached between her legs to pull at Sue Ann's big nipples. The whole pose was rather cumbersome, but for a few seconds before I came, it was heaven. I blasted inside Sue Ann, and then we unraveled ourselves. I finished sucking Vicky off and watched her lick my jism out of Sue Ann, which gave her a climax."
"And after that, would you believe it, we played three-handed bridge until the end of visiting hours," Sue Ann said, smiling.
At that point I asked, "So Roger married you because you were a better lay than your roommate?"
Sue Ann answered, "No. The second semester Vicky came down with mononucleosis and dropped out of school. We got married our senior year basically because we liked each other so much and had such great times together."
Roger continued from there. "There wasn't any starting to it, really; we were both pretty active up to the wedding. We kept on screwing the people we'd been screwing with before we married. Of course, they gradually left town. But we met others, including other married couples, and when I took a job in P. we already had some contacts through correspondence. Frank and Marie Cordoba were one contact. It was sheer coincidence that they happened to be at your party. I remember we were worried that the party would he a real drag, and Sue Ann had dressed conservatively. Then we walked in, and there was little Marie, whom I had never met before but whose picture I had savored for some time. She was even wearing the same clothes, except that in the picture she was lying back with her dress up and her twat showing. If you hadn't planned something that evening, the four of us would have done something anyway."
Chapter Four
As I said, at the time of our first party, I was pretty oblivious of anyone's feelings or actions but my own. But as time went on, I became more aware. We four couples saw each other frequently and had some wonderful times. We'd go to the lake near P. for picnics. The girls would wear their skimpiest bikinis, and we'd play volleyball to make their tits come out. Since we sailed to the far side of the lake on Frank's boat, we enjoyed considerable privacy, not enough for nudity but enough for anything else.
Marie's bathing suit always turned me on in particular. It was a bikini, but instead of being made of thick elastic cloth with built-in bra cups, it was made of a soft, white silky material. It covered the proper areas, but it hung rather loosely. And when it got wet, it clung like crazy. The water would make her nipples stand up, and the bra would cling translucently to them. Below, her black triangle would show so you could almost see the separate hairs.
At night we'd make a fire and roast hot dogs and that sort of thing. Then we'd pair off around the fire and fuck and suck to our hearts' content. Finally we'd sail back in the moonlight.
Judy liked to lie on her back on the bow with her legs spread along the gunwales. If no other boats were out, she would take her suit off, and we would admire the moon reflecting on the swells of her breasts and highlighting her silky brown nest. We'd not only admire it: on more than one occasion I put my head between those moonlit legs and tongued the female crack that the silky brown hair crowned. Every time I did that, I would turn around when I had brought her off, and my heart would thrill at seeing Frank with one hand on the tiller and the other deep in my darling Helen's suit, fingering her slit.
I don't think I will ever get over that thrill I get from seeing my wife being handled sexually. At first it seemed just like new kicks, but as I have come to empathize more with her sensations while being handled by a man other than her husband and with the other guy's pleasure at feeling up or fucking someone else's wife, I have found the whole complex of sensations profoundly exciting and, surprisingly, satisfying.
What really turned me on to this sensation was the first party we went to held by swingers outside our own group. Frank and Marie had made a contact with this other group somehow, and after they had gone once and had a great time, they suggested that we be invited, too. This wasn't particularly fair to Dave and Judy and Roger and Sue Ann, but we agreed that we'd try to get them included in the future.
Frank warned us that the people in charge of this other group were rich and did things in a very sophisticated way, but even so we weren't prepared for an engraved invitation:
Edward and Penelope Unger
Request the company of
Robert and Helen Emery
at a Private Party
Friday, September 22.
RSVP marital tie
Helen chose her clothes with great care from her now rather substantial swinger's wardrobe. She decided on a soft white super-mini that came just below crotch level. This was to show off the gorgeous tan she had been building up on her legs and thighs all summer. Beneath it she wore only a pair of openwork net panties. The dress divided at the navel into parts that tapered gradually to straps over her shoulders. Thus, her breasts were covered even if their soft inner curves weren't. Of course if she leaned over, the whole thing fell away.
The host's home was more like an estate, located in an expensive, wooded subdivision of P. His money, it seems, had come by inheritance from his father who founded a drill press factory. Several cars were already parked near the house at the end of the long entrance drive when we arrived. We had deliberately come a little late to avoid being first in an unfamiliar situation.
We were met at the door, to my great surprise, by a stunning, beautiful black girl in a floor length white evening gown. She introduced herself as Monica Marshall, a friend of the Ungers, and said she was delighted that we had come. The name Marshall registered as that of an insurance executive in town, but I promptly forgot about all that when she turned to lead us to the party. What drove the thought out of my mind was the plunging back of Monica's gown which went on and on revealing her smooth dark brown back, narrow waist and tight round buttocks. Only below the buttocks did the dress come together again to form the skirt.
The party room she ushered us into was magnificent. It was built for lounging with soft low furniture, deep pile carpeting and indirect lighting. Through French doors it opened onto a swimming pool with underwater illumination, and the breeze of the Indian summer night was ideally soothing. There were about eight people in the room when we came in, but we were introduced only to the Ungers, and by the time we had finished chatting with them several more couples had arrived, including Frank and Marie.
Ed Unger was older than we were, about thirty-five, but his blonde hair, bleached by the sun, and deep tan indicated that in all probability, he was an active outdoorsman. He must have been to maintain his hard, lean figure. Penelope, or Penny, was younger and equally tanned and athletic-looking. Her hair was either dyed platinum-blonde, or she wore a wig. Her costume was full, gauze-like hostess pants of cerulean blue with a matching see-through bolero which darkened and emphasized her saucy, turned-up nipples. She offered me her hand in greeting, and as we chatted and she expressed the hope that we would enjoy the party, she took my hands and pressed them right against her luscious tits. It struck me at the time as being terribly audacious, but when we then parted and I found out from Helen that Ed had slipped beneath her hemline and ever so briefly fingered her slit by way of welcome, I realized that audacity was the order of the evening.
For half an hour or so we all had drinks, mingled and talked. I was too dazzled by the women to do much talking, for I never would have suspected that such clothing was worn outside New York or San Francisco or someplace like that. See-through was the general order of the evening, and there was scarcely a single girl whose nipples couldn't be seen either outright or by stationing oneself at the right angle. The girls in minis, like Helen, were soon persuaded to sit on the deceptively low furniture, and none of them had any scruples about keeping her legs together. Since there seemed to be no stigma attached to staring, I made no attempt to keep my eyes from the lace or net-covered cunts thus revealed, that is, when they weren't being covered by someone's roving hand as Helen's was when I glanced her way.
A blonde girl named Alice caught my eye and patted the couch space next to her. I obediently sat down and tried to make small talk, but she made it difficult by sliding lower on the couch and rubbing up against me. The motion pulled her tiny skirt up practically to her navel. A half inch of soft skin was visible above the top of her bikini panties while the panties themselves, a large gauge fishnet of white nylon, served only to restrain the swelling nest of golden hair on her love mound.
"Don't you want to put your hand where it will he warm?" She guided my hand to her crotch, and I brushed my fingers across the fluffy mound. She parted her legs to let my fingers descend to the warm, wet area of her slit. "Ummmm..." she murmured in my ear as I dipped a finger through the net and into the creamy interior, "later on I want to feel your cock in there. Maybe my husband will get it up your wife at the same time."
"Which one is your husband?"
"Over there with Monica."
I looked where she pointed and saw the back of a very thin black-haired man next to the very naked, black-skinned back of Monica. His hand was sunk between her legs under her bare butt, but his actions didn't seem to be interfering with the conversation they were having with another couple. It gave me a thrill to think as I looked at him that my middle finger was buried to the hilt in the silky vagina of his wife, whom I had just met. Then I thought of the other side of the coin, and looking around me, I found Helen slouched on another couch with her skirt up and her bodice off her shoulders, enjoying the ministrations of a man I had never seen who was sucking her tit and working away between her legs with a hand thrust under her panties.
Suddenly the lights dimmed to almost nothing, and Alice whispered that it was time for the light show which was standard at the Ungers' parties. I had noticed earlier that the walls were curiously bare for such an elegant room, and now the reason became clear.
The three sides of the room not occupied by the French doors to the pool began to flicker with light. A central switchboard somewhere had obviously been programmed to turn on a patterned myriad of colored lights set in the floor and ceiling. At the same time abstract patterns of light were projected onto the walls from hidden movie projectors. Even the guests were lit up irregularly by the ingenious lighting. As we became mesmerized by the effect, the pace of the light changes accelerated and sort of pulsated.
Simultaneously, the projected scenes changed from abstract hard-line patterns to less defined more organic ones. It was hard to tell precisely what was being shown since the colored lights interfered with recognizing patterns. Then the focus became clearer, and dancing, gyrating figures could be seen. As the scene cleared more, the dancers were seen to be nude and the men to have large erections. The pulse of the lighting increased, and the movie switched from one semi-closeup to another of people sexually entwined with hands and tongues exploring penises and vaginas. My hand drifted back to Alice's warm crotch as I became more and more absorbed in the show. Her hand, in turn, was gripped around my cock which she had released from my pants.
The pulses of light became both faster and brighter. In addition to the ever larger closeups of cunts and pricks now being projected, I began to see more of the people around the room. This was apparently what I was supposed to be looking at, because at the same time I began to notice a small spotlight concealed in the ceiling came on and highlighted first one then another of the guests.
Following the light, I first saw, for a few seconds, my hostess in ecstasy having her cunt licked out by someone I didn't recognize. Then there was a switch to cute little Marie getting her black bush tongued by a black man I took to be Monica's husband. At this point Alice squirmed her head into my lap and closed her mouth over the bulging red head of my cock. Next in the spotlight was Frank with his enormous prick being gobbled by a girl I didn't know.
Then, just as the erotic load of pulsing lights, carnal visions and Alice's expert tongue were just about to push me over the brink into a tremendous orgasm, the light show suddenly stopped, and the room lights went on again. The effect was shocking on me, and, I supposed, on Helen and anyone else who had never been to such a party before. But the effect was also delightful. At the same time as one was being doused and sobered by the strong lights, one was treated to the sight of a whole room of beautiful people discovered in the midst of sexual delights.
Our hostess was reclining naked on a couch with her long lovely legs twined around the neck of the man who was eating her. Marie had lost only panties, and the hem of her miniskirt lay like a veil across the heat between her legs. Before I could look around for Helen, Ed Unger took the center of the floor, his large cock sticking out and his arm around the neck of and caressing the tit of a pert little girl I had met earlier named Lonnie. He called for attention.
"Now that we've got things underway, I want to interrupt before we get to the main business of the evening in order to introduce Bob and Helen Emery, who are here for the first time. Some of you have already gotten to know them..." This was said with a leer, and I followed his eyes to the couch in the corner where Helen was reclining in the arms of Alice's husband, both of them sans pants, he was fingering her gaping pink slit while she gripped his thick cock. "... but I'd like them to stand up anyway." We each disentangled and arose somewhat shyly.
"As we all know," Ed continued, "no one is allowed to become a full-fledged member of our group without going through an initiation. Now, if Bob and Helen don't want to go through the initiation, they'll have to leave."
He paused and looked at us, but neither of us showed any signs of tuning toward the door.
"All right, then it's time to have their initiation." I was beginning to regret that I had decided to stay as I had no interest in being treated sadistically as I had read about in books. I held my breath, waiting for Ed to announce the nature of the initiation.
"Following our usual procedure, I am passing one hat among the ladies and the other among the guys so that everyone can draw a number." I saw the hats being passed. "Now, if everyone has a number, Penny will announce the winners who can do whatever they like with our initiates."
"Seven and fifteen," came a small voice from the couch where Penny was still being lapped. I looked around to see who the winners were. The two girls with the number seven were Lonnie and a gloriously statuesque girl with dyed-blonde hair and a dark brown twat whose name was Maxine. The two men were Jeff, the black, and Ron, who turned out to be the unknown head buried between Penny's legs. Since Ron was Maxine's husband, the four of them were required to pair off Jeff with Maxine and Ron with Lonnie. Between them they decided that the latter couple would handle my initiation and the former Helen's. I was much relieved at seeing the choices since they all four looked like amiable persons and since no one appeared to be rushing out for whips and things, but I was still a bit apprehensive. The couples conferred together and presently decided that Helen would go before me.
Maxine was already naked except for a sweater which she pulled off over her large, heavy tits. She was a tall girl, but she wasn't skinny. Her big globes seemed all the bigger because of a slender waist and diaphragm, and they bounced appealingly as she walked. Jeff, too, disrobed. He was long of limb with flat sinewy muscles, but somewhat to my surprise his penis was not extraordinary. It was fairly long, but it was neither as long nor as thick as Frank Cordoba's monster. Together they approached Helen who looked timid and demure in her white dress, in spite of the fact that in replacing the straps on her shoulders she had kept the halves of the bodice on the outside of her tits so that they hung bare and bronze within the border of white, their hard brownish points just begging to be sucked.
Someone adjusted the lights so that only the center of the room was lit, rather like a stage, while the rest of us remained in the dusk. Maxine and Jeff led Helen to center stage, one at each hand. Helen was beginning to blush, but I knew the blush to be one of enjoyment. They rotated her almost like an inanimate object before the audience, both of them fondling her luscious tits. Jeff sucked briefly on one of her nipples as did Maxine. For the first time it entered my mind that Maxine might be bisexual, for she seemed to be sucking Helen as vigorously as Jeff, if not more so. I asked myself whether Jeff's skin color was going to upset me as he went to work on my wife, and I was reassured to feel no rancor or jealousy. If anything, the thought of the imminent entrance of his long brown prick into her cunt excited me.
Cushions were produced, and the initiators had their victim descend to hands and knees. The shape of her free-hanging tits in that posture always stimulated me, and I began to feel the need of something soft and warm and damp to fondle. As I glanced around me, however, I found no one nearby although amorous couples were discernible on the couches. The thought came to mind that I was being deliberately isolated since my own turn would be next.
Jeff and Maxine had arranged Helen very low on her elbows in front with her rear much higher. In that posture her little white skirt covered almost nothing of her buttocks, but Jeff threw it up over her back just the same so that no one was deprived of the sight of her charming rear entrance. The feathery pink inner lips of her cunt, held open by the spread of her shapely tan thighs, was as erotically stimulating as ever, and I longed to stick my own cock between them instead of having to watch Jeff do it.
Rather than mounting her from behind right away, however, Jeff sat down in front of her with his legs apart and presented his long, slender cock to her mouth. Helen took it and started lovingly to massage the swollen head with her tongue and lips. Maxine straddled Helen's back with her long legs and, facing backward, leaned over so her head and shoulders were just over her rump. In this manner she did not block with her body the audience's view of the delicate caresses she now began to bestow on Helen's cunt. With a feminine touch that knew precisely the effect it was producing, she parted Helen's soft lips and stroked them and slithered her fingers around in the gooey exudations, dipping a long finger now and again deep into her vagina. Helen's eyes were shut in delight, but she never stopped sucking Jeff's black cock.
After a couple of minutes of massaging Helen's cunt, Maxine shifted her attention higher and with fingers slippery with cunt juice started to stretch and probe Helen's asshole. In the past I had seen someone stick a finger up someone's ass, and I had even had it done to me once or twice. But I had never seen such delicate care lavished on stimulating that tight orifice. I knew the sensation to be pleasurable, but it had always embarrassed me; so I had never done it to Helen myself. Perhaps it was this that now made the sight of Maxine's long digit sinking deeper and deeper into my wife's ass so thrilling. Had I not been riveted to the sight, I would have found a mate on one of the couches and fucked the daylights out of her. As it was, I could only watch perched on the brink of my own orgasm.
I could hear Helen faintly moaning as Maxine intensified her probing. Her mouth was motionless although still closed over Jeff's prick. Then the two initiators shifted. Jeff stood up, and Maxine slathered his cock with lubrication from a bottle she had magically produced from somewhere. Jeff now stood before Helen's enticing ass, and bending his legs, he lowered his long rod until the tip was pressing against her ready asshole. I could see her body tense as she felt him there and anticipated what he was about to do. I tensed as well. He wasn't kneeling so there was nothing to obstruct my view but the brown dangling bag of balls. Slowly he began to push in. The big head disappeared, producing a small cry from Helen. Then it reappeared and he pushed it in again. This time I could see that Helen was thrusting back on it. Deeper and deeper it went on each slow, slick stroke. Helen was once again moaning as she thrust more and more obviously back upon his impaling prick. When his brown rod was almost entirely buried in her ass, Jeff went to his knees and closed tightly with her from lower thigh to lower back. He was now fucking her in the ass with an even slow pace. He reached around to pull at her dangling tits. Then Maxine joined in. She lay on her back in front of Helen and presented her dark pussy to her lips just as Jeff had earlier offered his prick. Helen didn't hesitate but buried her mouth and nose in it with vigor. I was rapt in the scene I could hardly believe. My beloved wife who but a few months before savored for the first time the tentative creep of another man's fingers inside her panties was almost expiring in delight from being fucked in the ass by a long black prick while simultaneously gobbling the cunt juices of another woman.
Now Jeff had shifted one hand to Helen's clitoris, and her body began tensing toward climax. Suddenly she cried aloud and jerked convulsively. Jeff, too, had climaxed and with crashing thrusts was jetting his sperm deep inside her ass. Helen collapsed on her stomach as soon as Jeff finally withdrew. Maxine withdrew to the sidelines as did Jeff, and sweet Helen was left in the spotlight like a limp doll. Her dress seemed like that of a little girl. Then she stirred and arose, showing once again her big sensuous tits and dispelling the ravished little-girl image.
Someone handed her a glass of refreshment, and she sank wearily onto a couch between Frank and Marie, who hugged her warmly. She stood up again and felt behind her. The semen running from her ass was making her dress wet. But she gave a shrug and decided to sit in it anyway. I don't know what prevented me from going over and hugging her and comforting her myself. Perhaps I felt voyeuristically cut off from the whole episode, in spite of the fact that she was my wife. Whatever it was, I was still standing in place like a wooden Indian when my turn was announced.
Lonnie and Ron took the floor. She was a perky little blonde and had lost all her clothes sometime during the first initiation period. Her bush was light and sparse and did nothing to hide the rounded, rosy lips of her crack. Her nipples were upturned like her nose, and her ass was small and tight. Next to Ron she didn't look as small as she had with Ed Unger, for Ron himself was a slight fellow with sandy brown hair. When he dropped his pants, however, I saw that his slight stature did not apply to his crotch. His prick was not quite as long as Frank's, but it was thicker and more imposing. And his testicles hung much lower in a very pendulous sac. The whole effect was almost that of a deformity with such a huge prick on so diminutive a man. But I had no time for contemplation.
The preliminaries were briefer than Helen. The pair of them ushered me forward and stripped me. I felt uncommonly exposed being in the lighted circle. I couldn't make out anything but dim shapes in the surrounding darkness. Then the cushions were rearranged, and Lonnie told me to lie down on my back.
They still hadn't done anything to me, nor did they proceed to do anything. Instead they stood astride me over my head and began to fondle each other. The view was incredible. Lonnie pumped and fondled Ron's monster prick while he explored the tender pink recesses of her beautiful slit. I wondered if my initiation was to be subjected to frustration.
Presently Lonnie turned around and went down on all fours, as Helen had done. The soft entrance to her body was only inches from my eyes. I longed for her to squat lower and engulf my face with her cunt, but instead Ron knelt behind her and I realized the frustration was to continue. As the enormous head of his prick parted the almost bare lips of her cunt, I thought her little hole couldn't possibly stretch to receive him. But inch by inch the huge machine buried itself deeper and deeper inside her. Then it was far enough in that while my eyes could still see the junction of their organs, my mouth was covered with the hanging bag of Ron's balls. The action to take them into my mouth was made unconsciously, but it was made. I played with his balls with my tongue for a minute or so, and then he pulled them out. He was beginning to fuck her for real. The piston of flesh came out and drove in, glinting with the lubrication she provided for it. The pressure on me was immense.
Then Ron pulled out entirely, and Lonnie moved away leaving him alone poised over my face. I longed to suck Lonnie's cunt, and here before me was Ron's giant cock smelling like cunt and slimy with cunt juice. I opened my mouth and tentatively licked the head. It was unbelievably smooth. I took it more into my mouth and felt both its strength and its softness. Lonnie's cunt flow was delicious, but with every second I was becoming more entranced by the sensation of sucking cock. I began to work my tongue around his head the way I knew I liked it, and I could feel him react.
Lonnie was not idle either, as I now found out. I felt the soft warmth of her body as she squatted over my straining prick. And then at long last I felt cunt. Skillfully she sheathed my longing cock in her tunnel of sex, sinking down upon me and absorbing me deeper and deeper into her. My climax was almost upon me as soon as she started moving up and down on me. I sucked harder at Ron's penis. His tension increased with mine. And then the muscles in his cock jerked and a blast of hot come came into my mouth. Another blast. I swallowed. It seeped around the corners of my mouth and ran down my cheek. I hardly noticed that I myself was coming at the same time and flooding Lonnie's cunt, so powerful was the strength of Ron's blast. I swallowed until he went limp, and then I, too, went limp.
The bodies of the initiators rose from my head and groin. The initiation was over. Now I knew how Helen had felt earlier. I was just lying exposed and drained in the bright light. I almost felt degraded, but I also felt sensually fulfilled. Finally, I got up and staggered to the sidelines, where someone gave me a stiff drink. Then I was being hugged and lovingly comforted by two warm naked women, Alice and Monica. I, like Helen a bit before, was now part of the club.
My lovely escorts settled me on a couch and with tender soothings and comfortings helped me recover from what, in retrospect, had been a rather traumatic experience. It's not every day that a hitherto straight man sucks his first prick in such a public way. Soon, however, the soft warmth of the white and brown breasts and thighs surrounding me made me forget my disturbed feelings and turn my attention once again to the matter at hand. Monica slithered across my lap, let my newly risen cock slip up her tight black crack. But after a certain amount of such monkeying around, Alice made her get off because we had a previous engagement.
I didn't remember what she was talking about until she pointed out Helen across the room with her husband, toying amorously with each other. Then I recalled that she had wanted me to take her while her husband was poking Helen. Leaving Monica disappointed, we went over to them, and Alice made her proposal.
"I'm not sure Helen wants to," replied her husband. "She's still dripping with what Frank gave her a few minutes ago. After his tool, she probably wouldn't notice me in there at all."
The idea had struck pay dirt with Helen, however, as the light in her eyes revealed. "Don't be an ass, Tom," she interjected. "I may have had it already fore and aft, but I haven't had it from you, and that's what I want." She gave him a peck on the mouth and squeezed his long, thin rod.
"Good," said Alice, arranging cushions on the floor next to their couch. Then she whispered in my ear, "Take me up the ass, will you Bobby. That's where I really want it."
I was a little dismayed as she went down on the floor on all fours because I didn't have any lubricant to ease my entrance. When I knelt behind her enticing butt, however, she solved this problem by reaching between her legs, wetting her hands in her cunt juice and covering my prick with her own lubrication. I spread her cheeks and lodged the head of my cock against her rosy hole. Immediately, she pushed back against it. It slid in with less difficulty than I had expected. Undoubtedly the passageway was well worn, so I was buried in her up to the hilt. The heat of her body and the tightness of the fit were superb. The novelty of the sensation had kept me from noticing Helen on the couch beside me. But now I looked at her. My head was only inches from her face on a slightly higher level. I looked and saw her blonde nest fully plugged by her rider's prick. He was kneeling almost vertically and was holding her hips off the couch with his hands. I stared into her feverish eyes and she into mine. I had the sudden sensation that it was she I was fucking. I kissed her and tongued her mouth as if she was a new girl for me; she responded with equal passion.
Then a new sensation struck me, or rather an old sensation struck me with new force. Eye to eye and in love with my wife, I nevertheless was rhythmically ramming my penis in and out of another woman's asshole and rubbing her clitoris while her husband furiously fucked my wife. In two short, violent jabs I was suddenly over the top and shooting off in Alice's anal depths. The force of my orgasm almost knocked her flat.
Beyond that there's little to add. We got the group to add Dave and Judy and Roger and Sue Ann, all of which took some persuading, since it made the group almost unwieldy, and for several months we continued to attend orgies at the Ungers' mansion fairly regularly. We all had other swaps, of course. Roger and I traded Helen and Sue Ann for a full week, and I came to enjoy waking up to the sight of her beautiful big tits and screwing her first thing in the morning. We also spent a couple of evenings with Jeff and Monica, during one of which we played unmixed doubles. The girls sucked each other off while the boys did likewise.
My feeling for Helen became, if anything, deeper. But a new element entered our relationship. At first it was a matter of Helen just not being very interested in sex privately. But after a while it became clear that she only had real pleasure when there was an audience watching her, even if it was only an audience of one. We kept on with our marital sex, but mirrors all around the bedroom became necessary. The innovation was not unwelcome to me. I had posed erotically with Helen before for still photos, but it was different to see myself actually fucking her. Still, it didn't appeal to me the way it did to her. I was becoming more a voyeur and she more an exhibitionist.
Nothing really different happened, however, until late Spring when I received word that I was being shifted to a traveling job. When the change came, I would be out of town at least a third of every month. Naturally, at first this was depressing news, since it seemed that our sex life, which by now was about all we lived for, would be terribly disrupted. But after talking to other couples in the Unger group, we began to look at the job change in a new light. Some of them, it turned out, had swinging contacts in the cities I would most often be visiting, and they suggested that we make contact with these people by mail to provide in advance a good time wherever we went. Since these were private contacts and not sex-club ads, this seemed like a good idea, and we set ourselves to letter writing.
It took us a few tries to get the hang of it, but pretty soon we had active correspondence going with couples in three different cities. Since we had personal introductions, we didn't have to go through the rigmarole of cautious metaphor and innuendo. I still have the second letter we received from Madeleine and Jay Whitaker in Cleveland. I remember it came with a snapshot of the two of them sunning themselves in the altogether. It reads:
Dear Bob and Helen,
Got your last letter just as we were leaving for the golf course. Wow! What pictures! We got so hot looking at them that I just had to pull Maddy's shorts down and stick it up her. Imagine, standing up in front of our picture window! Lucky the neighbors weren't out. When are you coming to town? I can't wait to sink my face into those luscious boobs of yours, Helen. And Maddy's longing to suck you off, Bob. Write us again soon.
Sincerely,
Jay
PS: I may not be ambidextrous, but while I've been writing this right-handed, I've had my left hand in Maddy's pants -- that explains what the stains on the paper are. J.W.
Naturally, after reading that we could hardly wait to go to Cleveland.
Fortunately, the opportunity came only a few days after the letter. My wife wasn't expected to accompany me, of course, but we had the money necessary, so she went anyway. We flew there in the morning and checked into our motel. Then I went to the company I was supposed to visit, and Helen went off to the art museum. We were figuring on a one-night stay, and if things worked out well, two nights.
When I got back to the motel, Helen was already there and dressing to go out. The Whitakers had called and arranged for us to meet them at a cocktail lounge. This was fine with us since it was neutral ground, and if we didn't like each other, we could call it off.
The lounge was both very fancy and very dark. We had expected to recognize them from their pictures, but the tables were so dimly lit we had to ask the waitress to point them out. Jay got up and let Helen slide into the curving booth seat next to Madeleine, while I seated myself on her far side. Their pictures really hadn't done them justice. Their outdoor activities gave them both a bronzed, healthful look that made them both younger and handsomer than we had anticipated.
We ordered drinks and chatted for a while. I hadn't arranged any signal with Helen, but I could tell she was really digging Jay. And, for my part, I found Madeleine captivating. She was somewhat older than I and had a sleek, tawny look. I wasn't sure how we were impressing them until the third round of drinks had been served and Madeleine reached into my crotch and felt for my penis. Despite my surprise, it became quite evident where it was -- quite quickly. In response, I, as unobtrusively as possible, put my hand under her dress between her conveniently parted legs. Exploring deeper, I felt a diaphanous wisp of cloth and under it the soft hairy crevice of her twat.
The Whitakers seemed quite confident and poised at this game and kept perfect composure above table level. I was nervous, but I imitated them and played along. Presently, things reached such a pass that, however innocent our quartet may have looked to someone standing in front of the table, the scene from my point of view was scandalous. The girls had gotten both of our pricks out, and Maddy was gently jacking me off. Jay and I, on the other hand, had the girl's dresses belly high and were sampling the wares inside their panties. Believe me, trying to chat and hold a drink with one hand while you're frigging the girl you're talking to with the other is a difficult job. Fortunately, Jay decided it was time to go, and after due preparations and formalities we made it to the fresh air outside.
They drove us back to our motel, and we hardly had time to get into our room before Maddy was on her knees sucking me off. I was feeling rather passive, so I just stood and enjoyed her sucking and watched her husband disrobe my wife, explore her body and finally lay her on the bed and lick her cunt. As always, this got me all excited, so I threw Maddy down on the bed beside Helen, yanked her panties down and stuck my cock in her. Being right beside Helen, I could watch her eyes melt as Jay licked her slippery pussy. Then he, too, was ready to go. He moved on top of her and slipped it in. After a few seconds, we synchronized our movements. For every stroke he gave my wife, I gave the same to his. With us going together and the girls bucking their pelvises against our pricks in the same rhythm, I thought the bed was going to collapse. But it held, and I had the triumph of withholding my orgasm until after Jay had had his.
The four of us lay on our backs side by side recovering. I casually undid the front of Maddy's dress, which I hadn't bothered with earlier, and massaged her tits.
Jay interrupted, "Hey, Maddy, button up and pretend you're coming home late."
I didn't follow what Jay wanted, but Madeleine did. She fixed her dress property, patted her hair into shape, and went to the door to the room. Then she turned around and walked forward. "Hello, dear," she said in a gay, artificial voice, "I'm home. Sorry I'm late."
"Where you been?" queried Jay.
"Oh, just out with the girls."
"Until midnight? I don't suppose you've been out with the boys, too," he said sarcastically. "Come here."
Madeleine walked up to him and stopped. Jay fixed her with his eyes, and then in a sudden movement pulled her skirt up to her waist. Not only was her tawny bush naked, but it was obviously damp, and gobbets of white semen were seeping down the insides of her thighs. Jay stuck his hand into her gooey crotch and held it to her face.
"What do you think this is?" he demanded. Madeleine didn't answer. "Lick it off my fingers," he said sternly. Madeleine began to lick the mixture of come and cunt juice as she was directed. But Jay stopped her and instead threw her onto the bed and started fucking her brutally with a tremendously erect cock. Strangely enough, their little charade had gotten me hot again, and I rolled on top of Helen. The load of come in her cunt made fucking almost too slippery, but we were both hot, and we came very quickly.
Then, once again the four of us stretched out recuperating, I decided to ask Jay why they played their little game.
"Actually," he answered, "it's just acting out the start of our swapping lives. Up until a couple of years ago, we had never done any swinging. Each of us in secret, however, had had a couple of little affairs. I had taken a couple of secretaries to bed, and Maddy had provided entertainment on occasion for some of the lifeguards at the country club. What happened was that one day we had been playing tennis, and on the way back to the clubhouse Maddy had seen, or said she had seen, a friend she wanted to chat with. I went on ahead, and Maddy went off and got herself poked by the lifeguard. The way I found out was that some bad carpentry in the men's locker room had left a very large crack through which you could see into the ladies' locker room. It was behind some lockers, and I don't think anyone had discovered it but me. But I always sneaked a peek whenever the men's locker room was deserted. So I was taking in the sights in the ladies' locker room, and in particular watching a cute little teen-ager with a black twat put on her bikini, when Maddy walked in. The teenager walked out at the same time."
"Maddy's back was toward me, and I watched her bend over to untie her tennis shoes. As she leaned over, the hem of her little tennis skirt rose, and to my fantastic surprise, she didn't have her panties on. Before me gaped her rosy pink crack, and just about to drip out of it was a milky white dollop of semen. I can't describe how I felt. I was angry and horrified, but even more I was titillated and transfixed. What I did was unbelievably foolish, but it had no unfortunate results. I impulsively ran next door and burst into the locker room, which, but for Maddy, was empty. There I confronted her, made her lick the lifeguard's come from my fingers and fucked her. And ever since then, that's been the central motivation for all of our swapping. It turns us on every time."
Chapter Five
By the end of the year, Helen and I had become part of a fairly solid network of erotic friendships covering most of the Middle West. As often as possible, we traveled together and enjoyed some sort of group activity wherever we went. Only occasionally did I have to go someplace where we didn't have any contacts, and when I did, Helen didn't go with me. There was one exception to that, however, when I had to visit a small company close to a well known lake resort. We had never been there before, so Helen insisted on going along just to see it.
We stayed in a very casual, but nevertheless very expensive, hotel in the resort area. And while I spent my days puzzling over management problems, Helen spent hers swimming in the indoor solarium pool. I envied her lounging all day around the steamy, carpeted solarium, particularly after I poked my head in one day and caught a glimpse of the other nymphs sitting around the edge. I had thought that Helen's bikini might be a little risque for a Middlewestern resort, since it wasn't wired and padded and consequently showed very clearly the opulent curves beneath it. But a look at the other girls told me my intuition had, once again, been overly conservative. There were at least a half-dozen real beauties there, and none of them were better covered than Helen.
What really surprised me, though, was coming home one evening and finding fifty dollars lying on the dresser.
"Where did this come from?" I asked.
"I earned it fucking," came the answer.
I was dumfounded. Helen walked into the sitting room from the bedroom, still in her bikini, and laughed at my shocked look. She walked up and gave me a kiss.
"I'll tell you all about it. I was sitting by the pool this afternoon chatting with the cute brunette chick. Her name is Denise. I somehow mentioned that the girls around the pool were awfully pretty, and she laughed at me and asked me if I didn't know why. I said I didn't, and she said that most of them were employed by the management to make things pretty for the visiting businessmen and that they were also employed regularly by the businessmen to make them even happier.
"I was pretty amazed, because it had never occurred to me that they were prostitutes. But as Denise went on, she made it sound like a rather appealing job. Since she was paid just to sit around, she never had to accept a man she didn't like. And the hotel was so high class, the men always paid real well. I asked her if she always went to the guy's room, because I had noticed that some men brought their wives, like you did. She said that usually they did, but that in a pinch the really foggy corners of the room had been used and that once in a while the management permitted them to open the pool for night swimming with only the underwater lights on.
"Then she had to go, and I sat around thinking about what she had said. That's when it occurred to me to try my hand at whoring, too. So I moved my seat over to a secluded area in a foggy comer and lay back in my chair and waited. Sure enough, pretty soon this guy named Chad came over and asked to join me. I smiled and agreed, and he pulled his chair up close alongside. Then we chatted, and he sort of casually put his hand on my stomach. And then he started moving it around real lightly -- yeah, that's right..."
We were on the bed, and I was matching her words with action, "and up on my tits and armpits," she went on. "My nipples got nice and hard, and he pinched them through my suit. Then he dropped his hand down and moved it between my legs, first on top of my suit and then under it -- ohh, that's nice -- and then he put his fingers up my crack. And then he whispered, 'Room 508 in ten minutes' and left.
"Needless to say, I followed him, and we fucked -- 'Ohhh...' I drove into her creamy cunt and came in seconds. 'Oh, Bobby, that was nice. You do it better than Chad, so I won't make you pay me fifty dollars.'
"Then we proceeded to discuss Helen's exploit further, and she confessed that knowing she was going to be paid for fucking was almost as appealing as doing it in front of a crowd of people. She also said that Denise had told her that tonight there was going to be night swimming, in case she wanted to see what went on. That's what had prompted her to tell me about the fifty dollars. She wanted very much to go night swimming, but she didn't want to sneak out on me. So she was offering me her fifty dollars to pay for a girl for me if I came along.
"I accepted her offer, but I felt pretty funny about it. I had never heard of anyone taking the money his wife earned by whoring and spending it for a whore. Such considerations didn't prevent me from slipping into my trunks and bathrobe after dinner, however, and padding down to the solarium. The door was locked, and of course no lights shone around it from the other side, but slight sounds could be heard.
"Helen gave the coded knock that Denise had taught her, and the door swung open. A luscious babe in a red bikini was the smiling doorman, but beyond her we couldn't see a thing. We groped our way into the steamy darkness (I confess I groped the doorman's big boobs in the process) and rounded a partition into the pool area itself.
"Things were lighter because of the underwater lights, although the steam still gave the place an unreal atmosphere. Two girls were paddling around in the water while three fellows watched from the edge. There seemed to be other people in the surrounding shadows, too. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man appeared and spoke to Helen."
"Hi, Helen."
"Hi, Chad."
"I see you've got a friend already." He looked at me.
"Oh," said Helen, "We're not together. We just came in at the same time." She put her arm around Chad's waist and pressed her chest and stomach against him.
Chad brightened. "Well, in that case, maybe you and I could go off and do a little -- uh -- swimming together."
"Sure," answered Helen in a mock husky voice. "You dive in and I'll follow your lead." Chad laughed, and the two of them disappeared into the shadows. One sentence came back to me as they moved off. "Ooooh, Chad, your hand's wet."
This left me to fend for myself, and I moved over to the pool. Two of the guys were in the pool with the chicks now. Two bikini tops were floating on the water, and through the distortion of the brightly lit water I could see the rosy tips of the girls' tits receiving the proper attention. I sat on the edge and dangled my feet, watching them frolic. The girls pantsed one of the guys, and he swam on his back to make his rod stick up like a periscope. One of the girls followed him. The other girl clinched with the other guy, and they made their way out of the pool, heading for darker parts of the room.
Then a newcomer appeared at the deep end. She was of medium build with shoulder-length black hair. She reminded me of Maria Cordoba, but she was bigger. And her suit was something special. It consisted of three pieces of white cloth attached to brass rings above her hips. One piece of cloth descended between her legs like a loincloth, and the other two crossed, covering her breasts and coming down in back to the brass rings again. What made the outfit a knockout was that the angle formed by the two rings and her crotch was sharper than the natural angle of her mound of Venus. That is to say, her suit rose so sharply to her hips that the two upper comers of her precious triangle revealed themselves in tight black ringlets.
She climbed the steps to the diving board, and walked to the end. She posed on the end like a statue. Her body was beautiful. Then she put her arms forward, shrugged her shoulders in a funny way that made her suit straps slide down on them, and sprang into space, spreading her arms wide and thus pulling the top parts of her suit free of her breasts. It was a beautiful swan dive made perfect by the pointed swell of her full bare breasts.
I watched her swim underwater in my direction, but I was still surprised when she surfaced right at my feet. I stared down at her lovely, smiling face and succulent bosom. She nodded, and I slid into the warm water. Our bodies and mouths flowed together naturally. Freeing one hand from the edge of the pool, I eased it under her suit and between her legs. As warm and wet as the water was, the slicker moisture of her cunt was both wetter and warmer.
She burst away from me and started swimming. I chased her down to the shallow end. There I caught her, and after some fumbling -- which amused her -- figured out how to remove her suit entirely. Then she got mine off, and with the water supporting her weight, she lifted her legs around my hips and sank down on my cock. We couldn't really fuck without drowning, so we just stood united and kissed. After a while she dismounted. And with her head on my shoulder and my hand on her breast, we made our way to the ladder. She went up before me, and I was so drawn by the under view of her black pussy, that I stopped her and put my head up between her legs and licked her. Reluctantly, she stopped me and led me into the shadows.
Once my eyes adjusted, I could see better in the dark area. We passed a couple engaged in sixty-nine with the girl on top. I recognized the skinny back as that of the brunette Helen had called Denise. She may have been flat-chested, but she was obviously an expert when it came to sucking a guy's prick. Then we found a lounge chair where my girl friend made me lie down. She was obviously preparing to ride me, and what a ride she took. Always smiling down at me from her almost upright posture, she slid up and down on my prick and manipulated it with her cunt as facilely as she could have done with her mouth. At the top of a few strokes she reached down to feel my slippery cock and balls and finger my asshole. At other times she would feel her own nipples and look at me lasciviously. Her orgasm came hard and fast. Her clutching cunt brought me off immediately and squeezed me dry. Her face contorted, collapsed on me with a little sigh, and my limp penis slipped out of her cunt.
Lying there under the comfortable warm blanket of this beautiful girl, whose name I didn't even know, I thought about how to pay her in some graceful manner. There was no question of her being worth it; it was one of the best fucks I had ever had. But I had never paid a girl before, and I felt awkward about it.
My difficulty was solved, however, by the sudden appearance beside our chair of Helen and Chad. They were naked and smiling and looked as if they had just had a good session.
"Guess what?" Helen teased.
"What?"
"I told Chad that we were married and that I did it for free." I waited for her to go on.
"And guess what else?"
"I can't guess."
"He said that he was married too and that his wife was doing the same thing here that I was. Not only that, but she's lying on top of you right now."
I looked down at the head on my chest with its sweet drowsy eyes and strands of black hair stuck to its forehead.
"Carol," said Chad, "meet Bob Emery."
"Hi," she said in a sultry voice that matched everything else I knew about her. "You've got a great cock."
"Thank you -- uh -- Carol." I felt embarrassed. "You've got an awfully nice -- uh -- pussy, yourself."
She looked up at her husband, who was handling my wife's breasts. "You hear that, Chad? Bob likes my cunt."
Chad looked down at her in amusement. "Well, haven't I always said you had the finest crack that ever got fucked by ten men in one night?"
"Oh, Chad! You always bring that up. I don't do that kind of thing any more. You'll give Bob and..."
"Helen."
"Helen the wrong idea. I'm not promiscuous. I just go for what I like, and looking across that pool I knew right away that what I liked was what Bob had sticking out like a rolling pin between his legs."
"Say," said Chad, "it's getting a little chilly standing here. Why don't we go up to our room for a while."
We all agreed and retrieved our swimming suits from where they had gotten thrown off. Carol's and mine were floating in the pool with several others among three naked couples. When we were assembled, we went down the dark passageway to the door. The doorman was still at her post, but she wasn't guarding the door. Her suit was off, and she was lying back in a chair getting eaten out by a man on his knees. She never noticed us leave.
Once in Chad and Carol's room, Carol wanted to dance, so we turned on a late-night music program on the radio. The girls' tits quivered and bounced inside their suits, and pretty soon Chad and I had projections that bounced and jerked almost as much. Carol did her trick with her shoulders again to free her breasts, and Helen doffed her bra. Despite the criticism leveled at dancing apart from one's partner to the effect that it isn't as romantic as dancing in each other's arms, it can't be denied that if your partner is a gorgeous brunette with bare, beautifully pointed tits, it's a lot sexier to dance so you can see them bounce and feel them with your hands than it is to have them crushed against your chest.
Dancing without stopping, I was pinching Carol's nipples and getting my hands inside her pants; Chad was doing likewise with Helen. Finally, the girls took their bottoms off, and soon we were all dancing naked. We were dancing quite close together, so that Helen was rubbing her hips against mine on one side while my cock was just touching Carol's fleece in front of me. Then, somehow, I was facing Chad while between us the two girls were dancing with each other. They were really getting into the music, and soon their tits were rubbing together rhythmically. Carol reached for Helen's cunt first, but Carol wasn't far behind her. I could see through Helen's light covering of silky blonde hair the active movements of Carol's fingers inside her rosy slit. Carol began to pant, and the girls' bodies came closer together, rubbing against each other from tit to thigh. They bent backward in an attempt to bring their bushes into closer contact, then they broke off and headed for the bed.
Helen started on the bottom, but they rolled over so she was on top, squatting over Carol's mouth and herself licking the black-fringed crack still wet with my ejaculation. I knelt on the bed to watch more closely my wife's fevered sucking of Carol's cunt. I played with Helen's nipples, and then insinuated a finger deep in Carol's tight behind. I became hotter and hotter until I practically pushed Helen's head back in order to plant my own lip's on the wet, splayed gash of pink cunt in front of me. I immersed my whole face in Carol's deep, delicious crack and feasted upon its silky insides. Close in front of me, Helen was still squatting over Carol's face. I could feel the warmth of her body as she leaned over me.
Then behind me, I felt another sensation of warmth, followed in seconds by the totally novel, but unmistakable, feel of Chad's prick pressing softly against my anus. I knew instantly that he was about to penetrate my ass, but my intoxication with the whole scene and his wife's superb cunt left me powerless to protest. He pushed slowly forward, and I felt my ass being stretched and stuffed. It was painful, but at the same time there was something exciting about the tremendous pressure against my rear. My cock stiffened even more as he slid deeper into me. And then I felt the urge I had seen Helen give way to months before at the Ungers' party to push backward to deepen the contact. Backward I pushed, and I think the pain of his cock going in still deeper made me bite Carol's cunt. I can't remember clearly, but I remember she gave a strong jerk at that moment. Chad's withdrawal brought a momentary sense of relief and emptiness, but then he was driving once more, and I was involuntarily pushing back against him.
I was being fucked. As often as I had fucked various women, I had never really experienced the feeling it produced in them, the penetrated, forced feeling that I was experiencing now. I vaguely sensed Helen climaxing through the actions of Carol's able tongue. I was too engrossed in what was being done to me. I couldn't miss Chad's climax, however, for it took real strength to bear up under the last violent thrusts he aimed at my tortured ass. He withdrew, and I still had not come. The frustration and feeling of vacuity was tremendous. Almost in a frenzy I slithered up Carol's body, nipped at her deep red nipples and sank my iron hard rod inside her. Never had I fucked a woman with the force that I fucked Carol at that moment. I came off in less than a minute and brought her off, too. But the release and satisfaction were as great as if we had deliberately prolonged it for hours.
It was a good half-hour before I had recovered enough to think about going back to our room. My ass still ached when I raised my leg to put it into my swimming suit. We put on our bathrobes and, with one last torrid embrace with our opposite numbers, we went down the hall to our room.
I hesitated to talk with Helen because I was afraid of her feelings after having watched me in homosexual intercourse. Strangely enough, I felt embarrassed by the experience. To try to forget it, I took a shower, and soon Helen crowded into the stall with me. I still kept my silence, but she broke hers.
"I know you feel bad, Bob. That's how I felt, you know, at the Ungers' after that initiation." I didn't say anything. "And I know you must have really enjoyed getting screwed by Chad, since I know I love having a girl lick me out. And all I want to say is, don't feel bad because you think I disapprove. I don't think you're a fairy just because you like the feel of a prick in your ass. I know a thousand times over you're not a fairy, and I think that if you want to suck guys off or fuck them or let them fuck you, you should do it. Because I'll always love you." She put her arms around me and hugged me close in the hot driving spray. I was too moved to speak, and too happy. I really loved Helen. We finished the shower, soaping each other's genitals with accustomed thoroughness. Then we dried each other and retired to bed for a long, soft, soulful fuck and a restful sleep.
Chad and Carol were gone the next day. We never learned their last name.
But as I said before, usually if we had no contacts, Helen didn't travel with me, and that was the case when I got orders to go to Des Moines for a couple of days. I had gone to Des Moines before, and we had the name of a couple there named Riley. The Ungers had known them as swingers some years before, but they didn't know if they were still active in such matters. And when we had written them, we got no reply. Thus, I flew off to Des Moines alone with the promise of a dull couple of nights in a bar or at the movies. After the variety of healthy and straightforward sexual experiences I had had over the preceding two or three years, the notion of picking up a prostitute in a bar seemed to me unpalatable.
After one incredibly boring evening, however, I decided to look for something a little more lively. And the next night I tried ringing the Rileys on the telephone. The phone was answered by a woman with a soft, feminine voice who turned out to be Susan Riley. The domesticity of the voice didn't jibe with the Ed Unger's reference to her as a smoldering-hot piece, but I pressed on and told her that I was a friend of the Ungers, in town for a day on business, and that they had asked me to call up and say hello for them.
This left the ball pretty much in her lap, which suited me fine, since I certainly didn't want to force myself on them. I thought that -- swinging aside -- many people I knew refused to swing without their spouses around. I still might get invited out for a drink and spend a pleasant evening in conversation. To my delight, she didn't just brush me off but instead said that they would like to see me if her husband could free himself from some work he was doing. I waited for her to consult him. When she returned, she asked if I wasn't the Bob Emery who wrote them while they were in Europe. I said that I was, hoping that it wouldn't screw the invitation, and she confirmed the invitation with what sounded to me like a trifle more enthusiasm.
As I sat around the lobby, waiting to be picked up, I tried to keep my mind off sex and concentrate on just spending a quiet evening. I tried to guess, as people entered the hotel, which of them was coming for me, and held my breath with trepidation every time a disagreeable-looking person made an inquiry at the desk. Yet, despite my watchfulness, I was taken completely by surprise when a voice beside me asked if I was Mr. Emery. I turned my head and affirmed my identity only to be startled almost into silence by who had asked it. I couldn't believe that the girl was old enough to drive, although I found out later she was all of fifteen and had a learner's permit. She was very slight and young with wispy blonde hair which gave her an ethereal look.
"I'm Sally Riley. Mom sent me down to pick you up."
We made small talk as we went out to the car. It was a vintage Jaguar, which impressed me. But once we got in, I suddenly felt ill-at-ease. While I was now resigned to a quiet conversational evening, I was still suffering a hangover from my earlier speculation which brought erotic thoughts to mind as soon as Sally got in. As aware as I was that high school kids were different from what they had been a decade earlier, I couldn't help being surprised at just how much leg a girl in a mini-skirt crammed into the low seat of a sports car might be expected to show. I knew that a good lean forward would let me see her underpants, and I tried to restrain the temptation. But finally under the guise of adjusting my coat behind me I made the move and caught a glimpse of the always-thrilling soft swell between a girl's legs, this time clothed in white cotton. For the first time in many months I was embarrassed to feel my cock rising and made the traditional movements to conceal it.
In order to take my mind off her beautiful, soft-looking thighs, I concentrated on how well she drove the car and asked her about her brothers and sisters. It turned out that she had a brother a year younger and that both of them had private tutors instead of public schooling, since the family traveled a lot internationally. This, fortunately, provided the opening for a conversation that carried us safely to the Riley house.
The house was large, but not the palace that acquaintance with the Ungers and Sally's accounts of European visits had led me to expect. I even felt a little disappointed, but as a residence for only half a year, I could hardly have expected more realistically. Sally took me into the living room, and again I was surprised. I had become used to swingers, and, I had supposed, ex-swingers, affecting a taste for the sensual and the modern. After being in a dozen rooms furnished in "functional modern", with the emphasis being on the sexual function, it was gratifying to see traditional furniture in a traditional living room setting.
I was put so much at my ease by the atmosphere, that meeting the Rileys was not at all embarrassing. I said hello to Susan without mentally stripping her, although I couldn't fail to notice that if I had stripped her, I would have liked what I imagined, and to Tom without wondering how big his prick was. I also met their son, Steven, and another couple in for the evening, Evelyn and Harry Stark. Pretty soon we were all sitting around like old friends, talking and drinking and laughing. The kids drank, too, but I chalked that up to the European travel. I told them what I knew about recent events in the Unger family, insofar as I could keep it clean, and in general I settled down for a comfortable family evening. I didn't even avail myself of a couple of chances to look up Eve's legs, although I wanted to.
The degree to which I was absorbed into the homey atmosphere is testified to by the fact that no light flashed in my mind when Harry Stark suggested that we all watch some home movies. Ordinarily, the words "home movies" would have been a signal for me of hot things to come; but this time it only signaled a family travelogue of European capitals. The reel that the Starks asked for, however, was the one of Sally's first formal dance the year before. I thought she blushed angelically at the suggestion.
So we all moved about finding equipment or seats, and in a few minutes the lights went out with me sitting on an overstuffed sofa next to the hostess, Susan. 9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-and there in color was what I assumed was the upstairs of the Riley house. The scene traveled into Sally's room and found her with her back to us facing a mirror and holding before her a soft blue gown made of layers of diaphanous material. It was a cute shot, and I berated myself for noticing that her adolescent back was lovely and also bare, except for white panties. I still felt guilty, rather than suspicious, when the camera recorded her lowering her dress a bit before cutting, an act that revealed for a split second darling young breasts with soft, light pink tips.
Next we were looking at her being picked up by her date, who looked older than she by quite a bit. The gown was strapless and of an Empire cut. With long gloves, it suited her light, ethereal look perfectly. I wondered whether she was encased beneath it in some sort of wire bra, but a cut to a shot from above dispelled that wonder. The gown was obviously held up by a tight fit around the torso, for the decollete was quite loose, giving us another glimpse of her tantalizing young breasts.
At long last the thought occurred to me that perhaps I was not among a quiet family group. Was it possible that the entire family was promiscuous? I looked about me for evidence, but I couldn't be certain. I was at a bad angle for looking unobtrusively at the sofa with Harry Stark and the kids, but it looked like Tom, sitting on the floor beside the projector, might just possibly have his arm on the side away from me between the legs of Eve, who was on a chair beside him.
I realized that a wrong conclusion could be disastrous, so I held my peace through a series of shots of a dance in what I took to be a hotel ballroom. Among the guests were Susan and Tom, but the camera kept track of Sally chatting and dancing with a number of men. Then came a cut back to the empty living room. We were waiting for Sally to come home. A car door slammed, and then another. Then came the key in the lock. Sally appeared, looking quite gay, and turned to say good-night to her date. Inaudible words were said, and then he took her in his arms. They kissed, and from the back what we saw were his hands stroking her, following her figure, and eventually squeezing her slender butt.
Then she broke from his embrace and turned into the room facing the camera. He followed, closing the door with his foot, and put his arms around her from behind. Sally's face was flushed, and she threw her head back as her date bowed his head to kiss her bare neck and shoulders. His kisses were long and lavish, and his hands made equally loving explorations of the young girl's body. Rising from her stomach, they framed her slender torso and then settled on her lovely, slight bosom, pressing and massaging the young rising tits beneath their covering of cloudy blue cloth. The prolongation of this action before he finally reached for the neckline of her dress was tantalizing. But at last he made that crucial move. Finding the neckline to be held up by nothing but loose elastic, he pulled the blue bodice down and bared the virgin tits beneath it. The Empire line was realized as it was always meant to be. The soft blue of the dress rose in long vertical folds to just below Sally's tits, and from there up was only the smooth creamy expanse of her fledgling breasts and long neck, accented by the budding pink points of her tits, now standing up hard under the working of her date's agile fingers.
I was still afraid of being precipitate, but the sight of the beautiful daughter was too much, and I ventured timidly to rest my hand on the knee of her equally beautiful mother sitting beside me. Her reaction was to cover my hand with her own in an intimate but at the same time restraining manner.
On the screen, Sally was now ensconced on one of the big sofas, and her boyfriend was kneeling beside it, sucking and nibbling at her delicious tits while exploring beneath her gown with one hand. The viewer could only guess what he was about from the movements of the cloth and Sally's expression, but the rapture on her face and the fact that the most vigorous movements appeared to be in the warm pocket where her legs met her body made the guessing easy. I ached to see her crack and the fingers working inside it. The frustration made me think once again of the woman beside me, and to my surprise I found that while I was absorbed in watching one man's hand intruding into one crotch, my own had crept, without too much trouble, quite a way beneath her dress toward another one. Susan's hand was no longer covering mine, and in a second I felt the familiar erotic bulge of panty-covered cunt. Her legs opened slightly, and I started to stroke between them.
Back on the screen Sally had at last changed her position. Half slouching on the couch to bring her butt to the edge of it, she had her long thin legs draped over the shoulders of her kneeling date. His head was buried between them paying the attentions of love to her cunt. Then came a very sudden cut, and we were watching the humping back of her date pounding his cock into sweet Sally. I was sorry to have missed the final seduction, but the angle for this final act was superb, and the camera zoomed in on the juncture where his oiled piston was ramming into her sparsely haired hole. I was inside Susan's pants and fingering her hole as I watched her daughter being screwed.
The young couple on the screen had barely come to their mutual climax when sounds were heard outside, and it was apparent that Sally's parents were coming home. In a comic frenzy the boy pulled on his trousers while Sally rearranged her gown. Her filmy panties were kicked hurriedly under the sofa, and by the time the front door opened, they both looked exceedingly proper, sitting and talking together. After that, the film cut, and once again we were upstairs. Sally was standing in pajamas in the hallway. Her mother came up to her in an elegant negligee, kissed her good-night, and the two of them retired down the hallway in different directions. Then the screen split. On one half, Tom was sitting on the bed with his shorts on. Susan was in front of him looking down at him as he lovingly roamed his hands around beneath her negligee, transparent now because of backlighting.
On the other half of the screen, Sally was standing before her mirror examining her reflection. She unbuttoned her pajama tops and squeezed her breasts. Then she rubbed her nipples until they stood up hard. Tom now had his head beneath Susan's negligee and between her legs. Sally undid the button at the side of her pajama bottoms and let them fall to the floor. The fine, light, golden fleece on her mound betrayed the rosy pink of the soft young cuntlips beneath it. She was truly a beautiful girl. She watched herself in the mirror, running her fingers through her cunthair. Then she opened her legs and ran her fingers deeper between her legs, gradually parting and penetrating the rosy lips. On the other half of the screen in the now-darkened master bedroom, Tom was mounted on Susan and socking it into her, while in the well-lighted boudoir their daughter was beginning to frig herself for real. She was sitting now on her dressing chair with her legs thrown over the arms, exposing the sweet pink gash of her cunt to the mirror at which the camera was aimed. She slid the middle finger of her right hand in and out of her hole, spreading the soft lips with her other fingers. Then she began to concentrate more on the sensitive bud just above her slit, rubbing it with increasing speed. Her mouth was open and her eyes half closed. With her other hand she spanned the distance between her stiff nipples and rubbed them as well. The sound track was from the parents' room and went with the shadows of their humping forms, but the pants and grunts and little cries superimposed on Sally's solitary masturbation seemed like sounds coming from her torrid, young girl's imagination. I heard her parents build toward their climax, but the effect was of being inside Sally's mind imagining some passionate, romantic fuck while she went at her titties and clit harder and harder. Her butt half lifted out of the chair as she came closer to the end; and then, just as her mother uttered a loud cry in response to her father's prick spurting inside her, Sally's back stiffened and a grimace of orgasm came over her face.
With the end of the movie someone turned on the light. I still had my hand inside Susan's pants, and she had gotten my cock out and had been frigging it for the last few minutes. Still, I felt sheepish doing such things in this homey environment. I looked around and immediately felt less sheepish. Evelyn Stark had one leg around Tom's shoulder so his head was cushioned on the inside of her naked thigh a few inches from her wide open twat with its bushy tangle of dark brown hair. Occasionally he turned his head slightly and licked a bit at the sultry cunt, but neither of them looked terribly aroused. Over on the other couch, Sally looked as sweet and virginal as ever despite Harry Stark's long arms, one draping over her shoulder and resting under her blouse on her breast and the other deeply ensconced inside the white cotton panties I had glimpsed so longingly in the car. For her part, Sally had her hand in her brother's lap and was stroking his delicate fourteen-year-old penis sticking out of his fly. But that tableau was not a frenzied one either. I wondered if in this household even orgies were quiet and decorous.
"How did you like the movie, Bob?" said Tom nonchalantly.
"I thought it was great," I said, not knowing quite what I should say.
"It was all posed, you know. Sally's quite a little actress. It really looked candid, didn't you think?"
"Very much so. I've seen a lot of stag movies, but I never would have mistaken this for one. It was more like an excellently produced home movie."
"Harry's the photographer, but he's only half the secret." Tom got up and walked over to his daughter. "It's my little Sally who's the real secret. No one fucks as beautifully as Sally."
The girl blushed. "Oh, daddy, you make me embarrassed."
"Wouldn't you like to go over and fuck Mister Emery." I couldn't believe my ears.
"Oh sure, I've been wanting to ever since he started peeking under my skirt in the car."
"I didn't know you noticed that!"
"Oh, that's okay," said Sally. "I wanted you to. Whenever I'm with a man I think is nice, I give him a chance to look at my pussy. If he takes advantage of it, I know he wants to fuck me. Momma taught me that. Momma taught me lots of things. She's the one you should really fuck; she's great."
Susan looked at me as if she were oblivious to my fingers still stroking her cunt. "Well, I may have more tricks and more practice than Sally, but I'm sure you'd really prefer to feel what it's like inside a fifteen year old. You've probably fucked lots of women my age." She punctuated this by giving my prick a skillful little squeeze. I felt I was being pushed toward making a choice I didn't want to make between a beautiful experienced woman and a delicate young teen-ager. Fortunately, Evelyn saved me from the dilemma.
"Look, you two, it's not fair making poor Bob choose between you. You both know he wants to fuck both of you, so why don't you just let him lie back and both of you take care of him together."
That seemed to settle things, and before I knew it we had adjourned to a less formal room with a narrow backless, armless couch in it, sort of like a soft cot. Susan took my coat and started unbuttoning my shirt while her daughter worked on my pants. I realized that Harry was quietly taking pictures with a movie camera, but I didn't care. Soon I was naked, and my two clothed attendants had me lie down on my back on the couch. They stood on either side of the couch and began to undress each other. I could see up both their mini-skirts to Sally's opaque cotton panties and her mother's nearly transparent nylon ones with the shadow of her cunthair showing beneath them. I reached up and stroked both bulging cunts and watched them take off each others blouses, kissing each other passionately once or twice. Sally's tits were small and developing with vivid pink nipples. Susan's were fuller but still slight, with slightly larger and darker nipples. The two women stroked and pinched each other's breasts, and I could feel their crotches dampening beneath my fingers.
"Let him suck your tits first, Momma," said Sally. Her mother bent over until her luscious breasts were hanging directly over my face. I pulled her lower and buried my face in their softness. My mouth found one nipple and my hands, the other. In a few minutes she stood up. Sally had taken off the rest of her own clothes and her mother's. I looked at them for a moment, both beautifully naked, and then Sally laid her slim figure on top of me. Her tits were above my face, and the pink tips were almost unbearably young and tender. I touched one hesitantly with my tongue, then sucked it firmly into my mouth. Soon Sally was moaning with pleasure.
I felt hands, which I took to be Susan's, between my legs, deftly stroking my cock and balls. And then they were replaced by the delicious warmth of a woman's mouth. Susan sucked and licked my cock with consummate skill while I continued to suck her daughter's nipples one after the other. But Susan was attending to her daughter's lower parts as well, as I found out when Sally murmured, "Oh, Momma, that feels so good. Ohhhh, deeper! Harder, Momma; get it up my ass as far as you can!"
Knowing that Susan had her finger buried in her daughter's ass almost made me come, but a shift in positions forestalled it. Susan retreated from my prick, and Sally raised herself to a kneeling position. The incredible delicate, ethereal quality of her young girl's body hovering over my abdomen was now belied by the wild look in her eyes. The lines of her body all seemed to converge on the patch of yellow fluff between her spread legs. With a lascivious look, she reached beneath her yellow bush, wet her hand in her own cunt juice and smeared the heavenly lubrication all over my cock and balls. She reached again and smeared more on my stomach and chest and then on her own nipples. The tip of my prick was almost touching her juvenile slit, and I could hardly wait for her to descend on it.
Finally she did, slowly and deliberately, squirming her ass around so that my prick reached every part of her vagina. She slid up and down on my pole once or twice and then tantalizingly rose off it entirely. Putting her arms behind her and leaning back, she descended once more, and this time with unerring aim I felt my penis slide into the tight orifice of her ass, which her mother had obviously lubricated. The feel was fantastic as she sank down. Then she started slowly to fuck me in that position. I reached down and fondled the feathery entrance to her cunt, which was now more visible.
Susan, meanwhile, had been biding her time, and now she came back, mounting the couch above Sally's head. She lowered herself into position and received her daughter's tongue in her cunt. It was incredible. Susan fondled Sally's tits while she sucked her out, all the while never losing rhythm sliding up and down my pole. But the posture was obviously awkward, and after a minute or so they made one final shift. Both women got up. Susan climbed into her daughter's place and ensheathed my penis in her cunt. Sally came to the other end of the couch and mounted over my face, at last giving me a chance to taste her luscious slit. And that way we finished, the mother and daughter face to face, my prick inside the cunt of the one and my mouth on that of the other. I don't know which of us came off first. Suddenly everything was heaving and contracting, and I was pumping an incredible load of sperm into Susan.
We rose and turned to our audience. Harry claimed they were the best pictures he had ever gotten, and Eve, who appeared from her posture to have been serving as Harry's assistant by sucking his rod while he took pictures, was equally complimentary. Tom for the moment was speechless, for he had his prick buried in his son's ass and was fucking him like mad. In a short time, however, he and Steven joined the rest of us in recuperation and told us that he had never gotten so hot as he had watching Susan skewered on my cock and Sally perched on my mouth kissing each other and playing with each others tits. He had lost control of himself and just had to fuck Steven though he had been planning to save himself for Sally.
Then Steven piped up, "Can I fuck Sally, then, if you aren't going to?"
The naked parents looked at their children with almost comical looks of parental indulgence and said they could fuck if they wanted to. The two youngsters took the floor in front of us, looking like two fragile fairies. Steven's prick was quite thin, but it was already long and had a light growth of yellow hair around it. It looked a bit incongruous jutting out and almost touching his sister's blonde patch, because he was so young-looking otherwise. The children kissed and clasped each other and then sank to the floor in sixty-nine. Sally, who had looked like a satanic angel poised over my crotch, tantalizing my prick with her cuntlips just out of reach, now looked like a gangling kid. Her skinny legs straddled Steven's head, and he ate her out with great ferocity, licking her asshole occasionally and then pushing two fingers into it.
After a while, they turned the tables, and Steven, on top at last, poked his manly penis into his sister's divine cunt. Their juvenile bodies' bucking and churning in a great athletic fuck were too much for us oldsters looking on. Eve gave a moan, dropped her head into my lap and started sucking. Then, after juggling postures to get Eve on her knees on the couch, Tom slipped into her cunt from the rear. Susan finished the tableau by straddling Harry as he sat in an easy chair next to us and sinking onto his penis, just as she had done on mine minutes earlier. For me, though, delightful as Eve's mouth was on my prick, the real scene was still the kids. Since Steven was still no taller than his sister, they were a real match. Sally's upward thrusts to meet Steven's diving plunges brought her thin buttocks fully six inches off the floor. The slap of their genitals meeting and the slight squish from Steven's prick entering Sally's overflowing cunt were clearly audible over the moans and thrashing of the adults. But of course an end had to come, and it came for the kids with a tremendous climax. The height of their orgasmic ecstasy communicated to me, and an instant later I went over the brink and pumped my second load into Eve's mouth.
Recuperation this time was a much slower affair. We all put a few clothes on because it was slightly chilly and for an hour or so drank coffee and talked. The Rileys had obviously been asked to tell the story of their unusual family arrangement many times before, but they were willing to tell me once again. The way they told it, it seemed quite normal. They had been heavy swingers but had wanted children, so one day they stopped swinging and began fucking in earnest. Within two years this produced the two children they wanted, and then they gave thought to the implications of the situation. In some ways the long period of strict monogamy had deepened their relationship, but they both missed the old days. Tentatively, they contacted a few of their old friends and spent a few good nights in group love, but the eventual conflict of swinging and child-rearing was not lost to them. So they made a decision.
They had no lack of money, and when Sally was four and Steven three, they left the country and went to Sweden. There they joined a kind of nudist commune they had heard about. There were three other families, and they all shared a large beach front house in which they lived as a single group. Altogether there were ten children of various ages. The nudist part of the arrangement was pretty general on hot summer beach days, but it was also casually accepted at any time. On an average evening, there were at least a few people sitting around naked or partly clothed, and it was taken as entirely normal if one of the boys started to suck his sister's tits, or something like that. Fucking was most often done in the main living room in public, and more often than not, it involved more than two people.
In the course of time this completely free regime began to pale for the elder Rileys, but they stayed for quite a number of years in order to fully educate the children in that aspect of life. Then, after telling Sally and Steven as much about American mores as possible, they returned to the U.S. for a summer. The trip was a smashing success. The kids were a hit with swingers but even more of a hit with kids their own ages. Sally was only fourteen, but she went out with older boys and, needless to say, delighted them by letting them into her pants as far as they dared. Steven had his work cut out for him seducing fellow thirteen year olds, but he got along well.
After that summer, Tom and Susan decided to try moving back permanently, necessarily with a knowledgeable Swedish tutor for the kids. They had bought the house in Des Moines, and I was one of their first visitors since moving in.
I commented that they seemed like permanent residents instead of newcomers with all their traditional Midwestern decor, and Susan laughed.
"I know what you mean. We had the place decorated like this because we liked it, but after we had been here for only a few days, I came home from the grocery store and found Tom fucking Sally on the sofa, and I was absolutely shocked! It seemed so incongruous that it made me forget all those years in Sweden. Now, of course, I'm used to it, but I know how you feel."
That night I slept between Susan and Sally, and on awakening the following morning I had a long, delightful fuck with each of them. Then Sally drove me to my hotel to get my bags and on to the airport. There in the parking lot she crawled on top of me in the front seat and sank down on my bared prick. And thus I had my last fuck with the beautiful young girl.
Chapter Six
When I returned from my unexpectedly pleasant trip to Des Moines, Helen was gone. The note she left read:
Dear Bob,
I'm sorry I had to do it this way, but I knew that if you knew about it in advance, you'd stop me. Some time ago I was talking with Frank and Marie and Dave and Judy, and the idea of putting on a real sex show for money came up. Well, you know how it turns me on to have people watching me, and how getting paid like a prostitute at that resort affected me. To be brief, that's the same feeling the other four had, and so we decided to form a kind of troupe. Frank thought he could get us some engagements, and he wrote some letters and got replies. Then we took advantage of your trips to do some practicing. We're really pretty good now. Finally, we had to put up or shut up. So that's where I've gone. We have four engagements in different cities, and then we'll be back at the Black Cat Club in Chicago for a final show. After that, we can all talk it over and decide whether to do more. You can join up if you want.
I love you,
Helen
P.S. Don't worry, I'm using a false name and have dyed my hair.
I sat dumfounded for almost an hour after reading the letter. I couldn't believe it. Scarcely a year had passed since Helen first confessed to having read the sex books I had bought. And now this. It was the desire to understand what had come over her that eventually drove me to look in her diary, which I have already quoted a few times. Apart from occasional entries like those, I read for a long time without coming upon much that was pertinent to our sex life. Obviously, Helen was not confiding her new feelings even to her diary. Then, at last, I came to the sole entry that cast any light on her departure. It was dated just two weeks before, a time when I had been out of town.
"I can hardly wait now to start going. Tonight's rehearsal was the best yet, but I know it will be much different with an audience of strangers. I know Sue Ann and Roger too well to think of them as an audience. I think the feeling of watching and being watched must be different for men and women, or, more precisely, for husbands and wives. Husbands consider their wives their property and their cunts their private possessions. Every time they see them being fucked by another man, it touches the strong emotion of ownership and fills them with a mixture of rage and guilt that sinks directly to their balls and makes their pricks an inch longer. They want to screw the wife of the man who is screwing their wife in order to get revenge. I think that is why husbands prefer watching their wives being fucked to being sucked. Penetration of her cunt is necessary for the full feeling.
"For a wife, on the other hand, it's exhibitionism rather than voyeurism that stimulates her. It's the desire of every woman to be prostituted and raped, to be laid out naked with her legs forcibly held open so that nothing can prevent anyone who wishes from fingering and licking her cunt and jamming his prick into it. I know this is an ugly view of women and is probably as much conditioned by our culture as is the husband's view, but it is certainly my motivation. Chivalry may have meant protection of the ladies in the minds of the knights, but in the minds of the ladies I think being protected was no more thrilling than the inevitability of being stripped and publicly raped if their knights failed. God! I want to be fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked some more! I can hardly stand it even now as I write this even though only an hour ago I had both Frank and Roger inside me. I hope Frank finishes lining things up soon so we can get started."
My first inclination after reading this was to call Sue Ann and Roger and find out what they knew about the whole thing, but I waited a couple of days before doing so in order to sound out my own feelings better. I didn't want to get mad at somebody without really meaning it. And after waiting those days, my feelings changed. The anger I had felt at first, I realized, was at being deceived rather than at what Helen and the others were actually planning to do. But I also realized that Helen was right in saying that I would have stopped her if I had known about it. Thus, when I finally did go over to talk to Sue Ann and Roger, I was more interested in getting information than in fixing blame. Part of the conversation we had concerning Sue Ann and Roger's early sex life I have already recounted in a place where it fits better in my narrative.
The rest of what we talked about dealt primarily with how the idea had arisen and progressed and what exactly the five of them had been doing while I was on my business trips. There is no need to go into that in detail here. Suffice it to say that they had talked about the whole thing quite seriously before committing themselves and decided that it was what they really wanted to do. Sue Ann confirmed what Helen had written in her diary about the motivation of women and said that it affected her as well as Helen, Marie, and Judy. The main reason they hadn't joined was that Roger couldn't leave this job very easily and that he wasn't too enthusiastic about doing it, anyway. I didn't wonder at Frank's going along with the girls since I had found out some time earlier that he was quite proud of his big prick and liked to show it off. Dave was more a mystery to me, however, until Roger explained that Dave had hesitated at first and only gone along because Judy wanted to so much. Then, later, he had gotten turned on to the whole thing in practice and become enthusiastic like the others.
They had devised three different acts and made costumes to go with them. Roger and Sue Ann wouldn't tell me in detail what they were because they didn't want to spoil things if I decided to go to the show in Chicago, but they did reveal that one was an eighteenth century piece with fancy dresses and powdered wigs, one a wife-swapping scene, and the other about incest. Naturally, this just whetted my interest, and we finally agreed to go to the show at the Black Cat Club together.
Most of the three weeks that elapsed between talking to Sue Ann and Roger I spent in writing what you have read until now, and it is now a week after the show that I am getting back to the typewriter. Needless to say, I was really keyed up and horny as hell when Roger and Sue Ann honked for me on the night of the show. I went out to their car and got in only to find the back seat already occupied by a very attractive girl with long dark hair dressed in a white lace mini-dress.
"Bob, this is Mary Callahan. She's a college friend of mine who just got into town, and I asked her to come with us. I hope you don't mind?"
It took a moment to find my tongue. "Oh, no, Sue Ann. It's fine. Great." And I slid in next to Miss Callahan. There wasn't a doubt in my mind but that Sue Ann knew what she was doing in inviting her lovely brunette friend along, but I played it straight and talked about general subjects as we sped into the city. I was not so scrupulous, however, that I failed to give Mary a pretty thorough once over, taking particular note of the spots of flesh showing through the lace which told me that the soft curve of her bosom was unassisted by a brassiere. It was starting out to be a pretty promising evening.
***
The Black Cat Club was on the near north side. It was a posh drinking and dining club, rather dark with a good jazz trio playing on the bandstand. It didn't look to me like a spot for a sex show, and it turned out not to be. Roger said a few words to the head waiter, and we were all led back to a door marked, Private Dining Rooms. We went through that door, past several others, and then through an unmarked door at the back which opened for us as we approached. Presumably a peephole had told the doorman we were legitimate. After that we descended a flight of steps and found ourselves at still another door which read, Bottomless at the Topless. Once again the door opened for us, and in we went.
The room was lushly decorated in deep reds. Thick draperies hung on all the walls, and the floor was carpeted thickly with crimson. About a dozen round, pedestal-type tables were scattered around a large open area which went all the way to one wall. This I took to be the performance area. We were given the last empty table, which had obviously been reserved for us next to the open area. Immediately a waitress in a tiny black uniform with absolutely magnificent large, bare breasts. Her nipples must have been touched up with rouge because they were so delectable-looking I wanted to get my mouth on them right then. But I held off; we ordered drinks.
Looking around the room some more, I counted eight topless waitresses, each of them a beauty, and four busboys who looked particularly handsome and well hung in tight pants and white silk shirts. The bartender seemed much the same. As for the other patrons, they were clearly of the swinger type. Elegant coiffures and discreet nudity marked the women. I don't think there was a bra in the house. Mary was a little modest-looking, but Sue Ann in a lacy bolero, bare midriff and really low hipster mini-skirt fit right in. Even with all that bare tit around, I turned on to the big dark circles of Sue Ann's great nipples peeking through the lace.
When the second round of drinks came, a fallen napkin gave me a good chance to study more closely our waitresses costume. I bent over to retrieve it just as she was serving Mary, beside me, and immediately a fluffy patch of light hair told me why the place was called Bottomless at the Topless. Our waitresses black net hose terminated at a black lace garter belt, and the whole ensemble served to frame the center of attraction, her bare twat. When she turned to serve me my drink, I boldly put my hand under her skirt and slid it along her slit. She gave me a flushed smile and then turned away. After that, it was hard to concentrate on conversation, and it became even more so after Mary squirmed around on her chair enough to pull her skirt up into her lap, uncovering a tantalizing vee of pink nylon panty, which as I watched, her open her legs turned into a two-inch band diving between her legs with large amounts of black hair sticking out under the elastic leg bands. The view was quite private, just for me. And even as we chatted about meaningless things, I could see in her eyes that she knew my thoughts were on her cunt.
Sue Ann looked at us mischievously and said, "By the way, Bob, did I tell you that Mary's older sister, Vicky, was my roommate in college?"
The recollection of Sue Ann licking her future husband's come out of that same roommate, Vicky, came instantly to mind. I looked at Mary with renewed interest.
"Oh, yes," said Mary, "Vicky and I are very close. When we're at home, we even sleep together." She gave me what I took to be a knowing look. "Vicky has taught me a lot."
"She sure has," put in Roger, who had been spending his time staring at the waitresses and girls at other tables.
But before the conversation could go any farther, an Italian-looking man wearing a puff sleeved silk shirt open to the waist took the floor and called for attention.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Bottomless at the Topless! For those who have never been here before, let me assure you that the management does not forbid the staff from fraternizing with the customers." (Laughter.) "In fact, fraternization is just what we want here. We want everyone to have fun and feel perfectly free to follow their fancy -- male or female (More laughter.) For our show tonight, we have a special treat, something unusual. They call themselves the Comedie Sexuale. But I know you'd rather look at them than me..." (Some female voices demurred.) "So let's get on with the show!" (Applause.)
There was a little feminine cry of alarm backstage, and with a flurry a woman in a large full dress of eighteenth century rushed into the stage area. She wore an ornate wig and fluttered a fan in front of her delightfully decollete heaving bosom. She conveyed an aura of distress very convincingly, and her costume deceived me completely. It was some moments before I recognized Judy underneath the wig, make-up, beauty spot, etc. Helen, of course, I recognized immediately as she now followed Judy onto the stage. She, too, was in period costume which emphasized the swell of her breasts beneath the transparent handkerchief tucked into her bodice. Helen began the dialogue with more histrionic feeling than I would ever have expected: "Now, Emily, you've upset dear brother."
"Upset him? Think of how he has upset me!"
"But if he has upset you, it is your fault not his. It is wrong of you and cruel to take offense at his natural desire to admire your beauty. What are those handsome breasts of yours for but to be fondled and kissed?"
Emily fluttered her fan in embarrassment.
"Oh, Margaret, how can you say that! You know that a proper young lady mustn't let a man do that."
"But why not? You're just being silly, Emily. You're repeating old stories they told you in the country. This is London. We do things differently here."
Margaret drew close to Emily and placed her arm around her bare shoulder.
"Oh! It would never have happened if you hadn't made me wear these wicked clothes. I feel all uncovered in this dress."
"But that is just the point. It never would have happened. I wanted it to happen; that's why I lent you my dress. To tell you the truth, Emily, if I go to a soiree and some nice gentleman doesn't find an opportunity to put his hand on my bosom, not to mention beneath my skirts, I am greatly disappointed. Now you tell me the truth. Didn't a thrill run through you when Alex squeezed your titty?"
Margaret's hand had, by this time, descended so far along Emily's bulging chest that it was almost upon her nipple hidden under the topmost half inch of cloth.
"Well, maybe a little thrill."
"And wouldn't you really like for him to do it again, dear Emily?"
Margaret's words were enticingly soft in Emily's ear, and her fingers were now plainly fondling her friend's nipple just out of eight of the audience.
"Oh, Margaret, you always make me feel so naughty when I know I shouldn't!"
"Do you remember when we used to sleep together at your home and share naughty thoughts?"
"I've tried to forget all that, Margaret. It isn't right."
Margaret was now behind Emily with her arms draped about her neck fondling both nipples.
"Let me call Alex in so the two of you can make up."
"Oh, no, Margaret! Don't!"
Margaret went back to the curtain.
"Alex! Alex! Do come in here to Emily's room."
Emily moved to one corner and recommenced fluttering her fan and heaving her bosom. Then Alex appeared in powdered wig and velvet knee breeches. It was Frank.
"Dear Alex, Emily is sorry that she ran off when you were merely trying to express your admiration of her beauty. I've been very stern with her and told her that here in London we pursue pleasure rather than flee it. Now, Emily, I think it only proper that you apologize to Alex by letting him do as he likes with your marvelous breasts."
"No, Margaret, I couldn't!"
"Come, come, Emily. I insist."
Margaret drew the feebly resisting Emily toward her brother, and when she was directly in front of him, gave her bodice a sudden jerk, causing her big, full tits to pop out. While Emily trembled, Alex reached out and softly touched the jutting globes. Then he bent his head and took a large, succulent nipple into his mouth.
Closer to home, the show was really beginning to get to me, and I dropped one arm around Mary's neck and beneath her neckline where my fingers found her nipple hard and stiff.
"Doesn't Emily have the most delightful nipples, Alex? Hard, hot perfect pricks that you just love to suck. Bite them a little, Alex; she likes that."
"Ohhhh..."
"That's right, Alex. Doesn't sucking her tits make you want to drive your penis into her cunt. I must tell you a secret. Emily's cunt is one of the sweetest, most delicate things in the world. Suck harder on her nipples while I get her ready for you to fuck."
Emily was in a complete swoon and didn't resist as Margaret rapidly undid her clothes, leaving only the last petticoat.
"Now stop, Alex. I want to talk with Emily."
Alex stopped gobbling Emily's tits and stood back so the audience could see the enormous bulge of his erection. There were sighs in the darkness, and Mary cuddled closer and began massaging the bulge between my legs.
"Emily? Tell me, don't you want Alex to stick his prick in your cunt?"
"I can't say it, Margaret."
"Yes you can, Emily. Say 'I want to feel Alex's prick up my cunt!'"
"No, I can't!"
"Perhaps if you see it you can."
Margaret undid and removed Alex's breeches to uncover his giant horn of a penis rooted in a nest of black hair with heavy, pendulous balls slung beneath it.
"Now, there's my brother's penis. Isn't it splendid! I've had it up my cunt more times than I can count, and also deep in my asshole. And he has fucked me in the armpit and between my tits so that his come squirted on my face. And I've sucked it until it has flooded my mouth with hot semen. Surely, Emily, you must want to feel such a tool inside you, too!"
Emily had become more wild-eyed with Margaret's every word, and now she grabbed Alex's penis.
"Yes! Yes! I want it up me! Stick it up my cunt before I die! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
"That's better. But first I must get you ready. You must lie on your back the way I place you, and you must hold your legs as far apart as possible."
Margaret laid Emily on her back on a table so that her feet were to the audience. Then she threw her petticoat up and slowly pulled her legs apart, spreading apart the red lips of her flax-crowned cunt until it gaped open in total readiness. Mary had my prick out, and now I slipped my free hand inside her panties and into the soupy gash of her ready cunt.
"Now, I will get you both ready."
Margaret bent down and for several seconds licked Emily's oozing slit. Then she took Alex's prick in her mouth and sucked it for as long.
"And now I want you, my dearest brother, to mount Emily, my dearest friend. Go deep into her Alex; let her feel the full thrust of your wonderful prick."
Alex stood up to the table and drove into Emily to the hilt on the first stroke.
"Wonderful! Fuck her, Alex! Cram her cunt! Isn't it heavenly, Emily! Doesn't his prick completely fill you! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Margaret kept shouting in rhythm with Alex's massive plunges. Then she sat down on a chair which gave her a good view of the proceedings, drew up her own skirts exposing her dear, sweet, familiar pussy, and began to masturbate. Mary was masturbating me, and sounds of sex came from the tables around. In the dim light, I could see that Sue Ann was holding the head of one of the busboys deep in her lap with her skirt drawn up, and Roger was occupied with a waitress. I took a moment to help Mary out of her dress so she had only her panties on and then went back to frigging her and fondling her nipples. Alex came off with a great charge, and Emily gave a passionate scream. When he pulled out long and limp, the white ooze showed that his climax had been for real. There was a sudden sense of hesitation in the room, then Margaret resumed the dialogue and brought people back from the brink.
"Magnificent! What a superb fuck! I envy you, Emily. Here I am, still unfulfilled, and now Alex can't help me." She playfully pulled at his slippery pecker. "What we need is refreshment. I'll summon some."
She went out for an instant and reappeared followed by Marie dressed as a coquettish maid with almost complete decollete and carrying a tray of wine glasses.
"Here is wine for us along with little Harriet, who is equally refreshing. Tell me, Harriet, how do you like this gentleman's mighty prick. Doesn't it make your little cunt itch?"
"I'm afraid, ma'am, that just now the gentleman's prick isn't mighty enough to penetrate even my little cunt. I should say, ma'am, by the looks of things, Miss Emily's cunt seems to have taken the stiffness out of it. Mister Jack Bennet is desiring an audience outside, however, and I think he might supply a new stiff prick for your games."
"Jack! How wonderful! Now, Emily, you shall have a chance at another hard cock in that cunt of yours. Send him in."
"Margaret, please send him away. Here I am naked and ravished by one man and you wish to open me to another."
"Exactly, Emily. The more fucking, the better, but maybe Harriet or I will lift the awful burden from you. Here he is now. Hello, Jack."
Jack, of course, was Dave.
"Hello, Margaret. How is my darling pussy today."
"Jack, I don't think you have ever met my friend Emily under such circumstances. If you will take your eyes off her succulent but sated cunt and look at her face, however, I am sure you will know her."
"And so I do. Its a pleasure to see you, Emily. Please pardon my impolite erection, but your juice-filled slit is more than I can bear. Tell me, Margaret, is it all right if I ram this beauteous friend of yours?"
"By all means. But there are others to be seen to, as well, such as myself and sweet Harriet. Let me arrange things so we can all enjoy ourselves."
With that Margaret began stripping as did Jack and Harriet, whose dark black twat stood out in distinction from Margaret's and Emily's fair ones. Then Harriet fell to sucking life back into the prick of the recumbent Alex, and Jack slid into her hole from behind and began fucking. Margaret and Emily, meanwhile, fell together in sixty-nine. Their climax in this tableau was the climax of the show, but I couldn't remain a voyeur any longer, and only scattered clapping told me when it occurred.
I was fully engrossed in kissing and sucking and feeling Mary, but I also sensed our waitress at my elbow. So I shifted my posture with Mary to include her, and each of us, cheek to cheek, started sucking one of her nipples. Mary left my prick to the waitress' eager fingers and fingered the waitress' cunt instead. I continued probing Mary's gash. Soon we were all on the soft-carpeted floor, which was a sea of naked people. I lost both Mary and the waitress, but I still had my hands on a wet cunt on either side while I buried my face in another. Someone was sucking my prick and penetrating my ass with a finger.
In the constant movement of this sea of sex, I moved out of that configuration and closed against the ass of a woman on all fours. My prick slid into her cunt from the rear with no difficulty. Suddenly Mary reappeared, straddling the woman's back, and presenting her cunt to me for sucking. It was full of come which I gobbled down as she pulled my head hard against her slit. One hand was on a tit, the other up someone's ass. I stopped fucking my woman and lay back to let Mary squat down on my prick. What with it being thoroughly greased with saliva and cunt juice, and her gash being wet with semen, she could buck up and down on me like a mad woman. I pulled and squeezed her small jiggling tits brutally as she thrashed about and smeared her body with mixed juices from our sexual organs. Then, with a tremendous blast, I exploded. I must have come close to throwing her off me entirely with my great heaves. I think she came, too, but I was too ecstatic to notice. After hearing my wife say the sexiest things on stage and watching her publicly masturbate and then go down on another woman and then holding myself back as long as possible in the naked pile, my built-up charge was colossal.
Minutes later, still lying on the floor surrounded by dazed, naked people, Mary was crying with release, and I almost joined her. A few people got up to find their clothes, but they were hauled down again by hands grabbing at their cunts and cocks. I fucked three more women before I rose again from the floor. First I did an exotic young redhead who was almost delirious and fucked violently, her cunt squeezing my prick as if she was continuously coming. Then Sue Ann, who had still not had enough after being screwed by four men and eaten by Mary, shared a quiet friendly fuck with me. And finally I took our lovely waitress in the ass.
Then, finally, it was over, and people were leaving. We all dressed, but everyone still kept feeling everyone else's organs as we left the room. It was all we could do to stop, once we were back upstairs. The ride home was a sharp contrast to the one into town. We were all fairly silent, but constant low-level fondling activity was kept up. The girls had put on only their dresses, and I simply couldn't keep my hands off their tits and out from between their legs. I had no desire left, but the friendly camaraderie of sex was still strong. When Sue Ann suggested that I wait until the next day to see Helen and spend the night with Mary instead, I accepted at once.
Roger and I showered, and the girls bathed. We finished first and watched them together in the same tub laving their lovely bodies and fondly soaping each other's cracks. Sue Ann turned her head and sucked my fresh, clean cock, and Mary did the same for Roger. To our great astonishment, we both felt ourselves growing stiff under their tongues, despite the fantastic excesses of the orgy we had just participated in.
We all retired to the same large bed and fooled around until we were all thoroughly hot again. Then we tried something I had read about but wasn't sure could really be done. Sue Ann lubricated my prick, and I slid it as gently as possible up Mary's tiny, tight asshole. At first it hurt her, but as I slowly worked it in and out, she responded with more and more passion. Then, when the feel of me stuffing her ass was at a peak, she spread her legs and let Roger try to go up her cunt. It actually was possible. Roger managed to get into her all the way to the hilt, and after some awkwardness, he got a smooth stroke going. We alternated thrusts so that as Roger pulled out of her cunt, I'd ram my cock up her ass, and as I pulled back, he'd sock it into her cunt. To Mary it was excruciatingly delicious. Her ass clutched wildly at my cock long before I, in my drained condition, was ready to come. We both kept on, and she came again and again. Reaching around her, I felt Roger's thick, slippery rod sliding in and out of her cunt. Then Sue Ann found a way to join in. As we were a trio lying on our sides, Roger and I were close enough together for Sue Ann to finger our assholes at the same time. And her wiggling fingers were just what was needed. In seconds Roger and I were ready to come and then we did, almost together. Poor Mary cried out and came too, for about the fifth time. Then, as we both pulled out of her sex holes, she fainted, and we had to revive her with cold water. Her face was wan above her sweet little breasts, but she was happy. She even revived enough to suck off Sue Ann, as her sister had so many times before. Roger and I sucked at her big hard nipples while Mary ate her cunt, and soon she too had had her nightcap. Then we all slept.
Chapter Seven
When I saw Helen the next day it was clear that the show was over. Whatever compulsion had been driving her from our first naive, hesitant experiences to orgiastic heights such as that night at the Black Cat Club had finally burnt itself out. She and the others have told me in detail about the other three stops their road show made, and nothing unpleasant happened at any of them. The one at Memphis, in fact, had been a wild success. Helen and Marie had dressed up as little girls with Judy as their mother, and the audience had gone wild watching the girls getting their skirts thrown up and screwed by Frank and Dave dressed as little boys, whom the mother then punished in a predictable fashion. But, still, the overall effect of the trip had been exhausting, mentally and physically.
I don't mean to say, of course, that I had not been acting under a compulsion, too. But as I've mentioned before, as Helen's drive became more demonstrative and exhibitionistic, my own drifted more toward voyeurism. I've seen about all there is to see along sexual lines, and felt about all there is to feel, and I don't regret it. I can't say I've gotten it out of my system, because you can't get sex out of your system. It is your system. But now that we both know the full physical dimension of it, the mystery is gone and with it the urge to explore. I think well be like native New Yorkers who live in the city for years and never go to the top of the Empire State Building. We know what we'll see when we go to the top, so why should we go.
Only time, of course, can endorse all of this reflection I've been indulging in. Actually, Helen and I have done better than that. For two whole weeks now we've confined our sex to the normal quota for an average married couple, and we've been enjoying it. I had forgotten how nice it could be to fuck your own wife just once, conventionally and unenergetically, and then fall quietly asleep in each other's arms. There's no doubt about it: Helen is a damn good lay.
And there are fringe benefits to calling a halt to our frantic career, as well. I'm able to concentrate on my work better, which is certainly a welcome improvement in my boss' eyes, and Helen and I have more time for each other. In two weeks we've already turned down three dates that would have really turned us on a month ago, one of them a monster party by the Ungers. We haven't quite gotten down to the pipe and slippers before the fire routine, but the idea of it looks more attractive now than it ever has before.
I also think Helen has gotten prettier since we stopped. It's been a long time since I've seen her in blue jeans and an old shirt instead of a transparent dress with net panties. She's regaining a natural look I haven't seen on her since we used to go sailing with our first swapping friends. She looks better without make-up.
I will miss our friends, though. I may someday forget the precise feel of fucking Marie and Judy and Sue Ann, but I'll always remember them as friends -- and their husbands, too, of course. And the other people we've met swinging have been great, too. Back when I used to smuggle sex books into the house and read them on the sly, I got the impression that swingers were all tough, neurotic, callous people who went in for whips and boots and came to a bad end. But I don't think that's the case at all. Swingers I've known are people like anyone else; they simply like sex and don't mind sharing it with others. Some have had some pretty bad hang-ups about it, but on the whole not as bad as other people I've known who bottle their feelings up inside. Inevitably I think we will have to drop our swinging friends. It would be discouraging for them to have us around when they went to have some fun.
Hold everything! A new chapter may have begun. I just went out to get a bottle of booze for drinks with a new couple from next door that Helen had invited over for coffee, and what do I see in the living room when I get back? Helen sucking away at an absolutely gorgeous blonde cunt while this guy from next door is cramming it into her from behind. As soon as I finish this sentence, I'm going to get my pants off and go in there and find out just how hot and tight that girl's slippery little crack is.
Chapter Eight
I simply can't believe how differently two people can remember the same events. I'm sure Bob never intended to show me what he had written, although now that I've seen it he claims he had planned to show it to me all along. But really I think he let me read it only because I got so mad when I finally realized that someone had been tampering with my diary. I suppose some people write diaries for other people to read, but I don't. What goes in my diary is for me only, and I don't want even Bob poking into it just because I'm away from home for a while.
But after reading what he wrote, the matter of the diary takes second place as an issue. We have in fact, been arguing about this whole thing for days now. There were a few little things I simply didn't know about before, such as that little girl from out of town, whatever her name was, squirming all around on him in an airport parking lot in broad daylight. We had always at least tacitly agreed that if we were going to swing, we should be discreet about it and not do things that might cause some sort of public legal problem. We don't, after all, want to be hounded out of town by a scandal. And I hardly consider it safe or discreet to stick your dick up a minor in public, no matter bow hot her cunt is.
But that isn't the main issue either. I've done some things he doesn't know about, too, as I'll mention later on. The main issue is that he presents a very one-sided story, giving only his view of everything. That in itself is bad enough when there are a lot of people involved, but what I particularly resent is that he constantly makes remarks about my feelings and reactions which are as biased and one-sided as the statements he makes about himself. Anyway, the upshot of all our bickering over this is that he has agreed to let me add this section to what he has written. We know we could never agree on one single version of things, so this is my chance to give a corrective to some of the things he wrote. Really this ought to come at the beginning, at least I think so, but since it's dependent on the narrative that he's already written, I've agreed to let it sit here at the end.
You can think of this as "Helen's version", then. Essentially, I have three points to make, or corrections would be a better word. First, I want to change the image that good old Bob (I love him; don't get me wrong. I'm just pissed off at him for being so insensitive to some things. He may have been surprised that I was a good actress, but I can't return the compliment. There's some pretty juvenile writing in parts of his text,) as I say, that good old Bob has left of me as a swinger. As I read his stuff, he makes me look like some kind of shrinking violet who lived a sort of sheltered life until he led me out of it, at which time I gradually became more and more of a nymphomaniacal, exhibitionistic sex nut. Now, I'm not going to dispute his facts; he's at least got them down pretty accurately. But his interpretation is something else.
I don't see how married couples can live together for years and still not really know each other, although as far as I can tell this is the case with most couples. Even a couple like Frank and Marie, who I think are very close to each other, but don't really know each other all that well. Frank, not to mention all other men, thinks of Marie as a vivacious Latin sexpot who likes to swish her little black bun at every man she sees in hopes of getting a cream filling for it. But actually Marie is quite sensitive and emotional with only a flippant exterior. Of all the swinging types I know, she's the only one who always remembers the faces of the guys she screws with and whether they have deep warm eyes and things like that. I actually think she falls in love with a man the minute he touches her cunt and has an emotional as well as a physical experience with him. It's that emotional quality that makes men think she's so hot and like her so much. But what I originally meant to say is that I want to show that I'm not a nymphomaniacal, exhibitionistic sex nut but a normal, attractive girl who's simply become uninhibited enough to genuinely enjoy sex and the additional pleasure that comes from knowing that other people are getting sexual enjoyment from watching her fuck, or whatever. Somehow, I think Bob sensed this kind of freedom in that little teenager he screwed in the bosom of her family, but he can't see it in me because he's too hung up himself about marriage and propriety and so on.
My second point is that Bob himself isn't quite like the Bob in the story. In writing he always shows himself as basically a voyeur who allows sex to happen to him but doesn't bring it on. Naturally, that's a hard image to keep up when every episode he writes about was at least partly of his own making. The reason for this, I think, is that he has some kind of unconscious conception of how a good Middlewestern boy (as opposed to a bad Middlewestern boy who can go to Playboy clubs and whorehouses) goes about being a swinger. He wants to be a swinger with a necktie. The deeper his prick is buried in something nice, the higher he wants to keep his head above it all. In short, the Bob of the story is kind of an anemic ass, which isn't fair to Bob in real life, who is as forthright and horny a lover as any girl could ask for.
Finally, I want to explain the sudden disinterest in sex that Bob says came over me the day after the big show in Chicago and lasted for a record two weeks. He simply doesn't understand it at all, and I don't think he ever will.
There's no point going back over our early experimental days in any detail, Bob has included the details. But the spirit of the whole thing is absent the way he tells it. For him it's all mechanics and sensation, but it wasn't like that at all. It was fun, exciting, spine-tingling fun, with a lot of very human warmth rolled in. When Bob took that very first picture of me cuddling with Dave, I didn't just callously pull my dress open and clamp his hand over my tit. He was a damn good-looking guy, and we were all high and horny. When I leaned against him on that couch, I wanted him to feel me up and feel me up good, and he wanted to feel my tits and kiss me like any normal man would. The camera was Bob's prop and excuse, not ours. With or without a picture, Dave would have been pinching my nipples hard in a few minutes, and I would have been feeling for his cock minutes later. Even when I was dating and a virgin, I loved to feel a guy's cock and take it out and rub it. Bob couldn't get this out of my diary, but I have always been a "prick girl" like some men are "leg men". I was shy with him after we got married because he always came on like a prude. I didn't sleep with anyone before him, but I'd sucked off more than one guy on dates. That's the real reason I was so surprised at finding that fingering Judy's cunt was fun. I was so big on male genitalia that I had never thought about women. The smoothness and hardness of a prick go so nicely in the mouth, I never imagined that there could be equal enjoyment in the hot, wet, odoriferous jungle of a girl's crack. I learned.
But Bob missed the atmosphere of that first night, and it's too bad. It was all so tender. I remember Dave just beginning to finger my slit, and me sliding my butt down so he could get more of his hand onto it, when Bob finished taking Judy's picture and finally did what she had obviously been wanting him to do from the moment she entered the house. That glorious twat of hers with gleaming red lips showing where she was holding her panties aside. He waited to snap a picture before he put his mouth on it, but after that it was great. Bob's head looked so naturally perfect buried between Judy's white thighs licking her. Just watching him, made Dave's fingers feel more exciting. Then I sucked Dave off, and it went on from there.
Bob doesn't seem to remember that it was the three of us that talked him into holding our big orgy. He wanted to do it. He wanted to fuck some new girls. But he was timid until other people persuaded him. Then he took over the organizing. But the way he describes it just isn't the way it was. You'd think his damn game was everything and that it was just marvelous luck that the people we invited were willing to go through with it. I'm not saying his game wasn't a good idea. It did draw the whole evening out and make it last. But the orgy would have gone on without it. While he sat around waiting for the right moment to start, the rest of us were really underway. Three different guys had had their hands inside my panties before the game started. I started out dancing slow with Frank and let him work his hand to the inside and then down on my breast, which of course was bare under my dress. He mentioned it and said he'd like to do more, and I mentioned the game we were going to have later. Then he just went ahead and put his hand under my dress, and we kept on dancing with him feeling my cunt until the record stopped.
Then I had to go to the kitchen for some more refreshments, and while I was standing on a high stool to get some clean glasses, the Swedish guy, Bent I think his name was, came in. Well, when you're wearing a mini-skirt and transparent panties and standing three feet above someone else, you can't do much. So I just looked down and smiled, and he looked up and smiled and put his hand between my legs. After that, the final guy who felt me up was the one who left before the game started. I really liked him, and we went into the bedroom where he was all over me on the bed. I even sucked his prick until we heard someone coming. But unfortunately, even though he said his wife was always willing, she was having her period, so they had to leave.
So the whole game bit was nice, but not necessary. That way we all got to see each other's bodies and all got to feel each other, whereas otherwise we might have just drifted off into separate corners, but the ice was broken before it began. Bob exaggerates the mechanics of the game, too. I think the rest of us remember it as a semi-controlled free-for-all. The greatest thing I remember was Frank's prick. It really was a giant. Like Bob, I was shocked that Marie, who's truly petite, could take it up her. I was even shocked that I could. Sitting down on top of it at that party and feeling it squeeze into me inch by inch was surely my greatest sex joy up to that date. I felt impaled. It was like a great spike of hot flesh that just kept going in and never stopped. In fact, it was probably that fuck which opened my eyes to sex as much as anything, because for the first time I could look around me at all these fascinated eyes and see that the harder I forced myself down on Frank's prick the faster and deeper moved the fingers of the people around me on each other's sexes. To me it was the joy of giving joy. I don't think it was exhibitionistic. It didn't heighten my sexual pleasure so much as my emotional enjoyment. Lustful eyes will never take the place of something rubbing your clitoris. But I got a kick out of it all the same. This is what Bob doesn't appreciate. I think he's just too selfish, but I'm sure he'd argue with me about that.
Bob is right in saying the following summer was idyllic. Those beach and boating parties were magnificent. I don't think he says enough about them, because nothing novel happened sexwise. Novelty is his bag, not mine. I remember I'd lie sunning myself on the little beach of the island we sailed to, and there would be Bob out in the water playing around with Marie or Sue Ann. And then, Roger or someone would come up and lie down beside me and spread suntan lotion on my back and then go on rubbing me all over until his hands were under my bra feeling my tits and then under my bikini bottoms, diddling my slit, which by this time would be all creamy. Sooner or later, Bob would come by with whomever he'd been in the water with, and there I'd be with my legs spread wide, holding onto the head in my crotch and getting eaten out magnificently. And usually Bob would fall down right there beside us and fuck the girl he was with. What with the sun and the couple fucking next to me and the orgasm, it was really great.
And while I'm at it, I should correct a factual mistake he made. It was there on the island and not at the Ungers' party that I got fucked in the ass for the first time. He didn't even know about it. It happened in the lake actually. Dave had asked me to let him do it before, but I had refused because I was afraid it would hurt. He decided to try it anyway, though, and without my knowing it he greased his prick before we went for a dip. Then we got out there in the water and as usual started messing around. It's pretty hard to get worked up a whole lot in the water, but Dave took my bra off and sucked hard on my nipples, which are supersensitive. Then he got a hand in my crotch, and before too long I was really feeling it. He stood on the bottom, holding me facing him, working like mad on my tits and cunt, and I was going out of my mind and creaming up like mad in my slit. In getting my pants off he got me turned around and held me to him with one hand across my tits and the other still in my crack. With the water buoying me up, I could just nestle against him, but I was too steamed up to just cuddle. When I felt the soft round tip of his cock start to probe at my ass, I wanted it more than anything. I squirmed around until it was located right, and then I just let myself sink down on it. I don't know which I felt more, the pain of the intrusion or the almost unconscious pleasure of being penetrated; but after he was all the way in and had tried a couple of tentative withdrawals and replacements, the latter feeling totally overcame me. Suddenly being penetrated and stuffed up my ass was the greatest thing in the world. My cunt was making juice at a record rate, despite the water, and Dave kept his fingers going on my nipples and clit. We got going so hard and fast I was almost screaming. It hurt, but the screams would have been for the sheer pleasure each thrust in the ass give me. I could tell that he had come only by his prick growing smaller, but I had come earlier so it didn't matter much.
I don't know exactly why I didn't tell Bob about that incident. I guess I thought it might shock him somehow. I'm sure he was mystified when I wouldn't let him go in from behind that night the way he liked to, but I still hurt. Actually, great as it had been, I didn't try it again until I had to at the Ungers' party. There it didn't hurt nearly so much, perhaps because that black guy had a thinner prick than Dave. It also didn't bother me that night when Bob was watching. In fact, I hardly noticed Bob at that party at all. I was pretty accustomed by then to making it with Dave, Roger, and Frank, but getting felt up openly and blatantly by a lot of new men was distracting. Bob says that the girls didn't try to keep their legs together, but that's an understatement. When every man you're introduced to says hello by putting his hand on your tit or slipping it into your crotch, and when all around you girls are handling pricks and letting men feel them up, keeping your legs together is the last thing you want to do. You want to make a beeline for a couch, sit down, and as gracefully as possible, let the boys see what you've got.
To go on to some of the other things Bob says, though, let me talk about wife swapping with couples out of town. Besides the trip he made without me and the groovy time at the resort, he mainly tells about our first fling. And to hear him tell it, he was shocked at the forwardness of the other couple in the cocktail lounge. What he leaves out, however, is some of the other incidents where he wasn't such a passive shrinking violet. With the Merriams in Dayton, for example, he started the whole thing by composing this letter (If he can take my diary out of my bureau, I can look at the letters in his desk):
September 12
Dear Cindy,
Thanks for the invitation to stay with you. I have business in Dayton on the 28th, so we'll come the evening of the 27th. Don't meet us at the airport. After looking at all those closeups of you sucking off Bill and playing with your beautiful, beautiful slit, I'm afraid I'd get a big, embarrassing erection right there in the terminal and have to fuck you in a telephone booth before we could leave.
Looking forward lustfully,
Bob
Well, when we got there, we rented a car and drove out to this great country place of the Merriams. We talked and got to know each other, and had a few drinks. Then Bill suggested a dip in the pool, and we all changed. Their pool was in a large backyard, and even though the lots in the development were large, it didn't take binoculars to see what was happening at the pool next door -- and vice versa. Nothing much was happening there, just three or four people lounging around and swimming, but blushing Bob sure made things happen at our pool.
Cindy was wearing an almost-nothing, red polka dot bikini, and it was a wonder every time she went off the board that she didn't pop right out of the bra. Bob kept feeling her up in the water, which didn't bother me. I didn't hesitate to check out the bulge inside Bill's suit underwater either. But then Bob followed her up on the board, where they could be seen in the whole county, and started to feel her up from behind. I was nervous because of the people next door, but Cindy liked it and ground her ass back against him. He got her bra off and put both hands inside her pants. Pretty soon he had her bottom off and was fingering away beneath her golden muff, and by God if he didn't make her lean over so he could slip it up her. Right there on the diving board! He fucked her! And he calls me an exhibitionist.
Of course, I felt that whatever harm was done was done, and I didn't want to be packed off to jail still horny. So I turned to old Bill, who already had his suit off and a huge cockstand, and sucked him and licked him and squeezed his prick in my throat until he came off with a great big load. And the people next door never gave a sign of noticing anything.
There was a joker in the deck I didn't find out about until later that night, however. Cindy and Bill threw a small pool party for us, quite fancy with good drinks and flowers floating in the pool, and who should come but the next-door neighbors on either side. This little subdivision, it seems, was so sexy that nobody tried to hide anything. But still, Bob didn't know that when he poked his cock up Mrs. Merriam's cunt on the diving board. So that proves that he has a lot more balls in fact than in his fiction.
The pool party itself was delightful. There was a certain amount of flirting and coquetry, but not as much as I'd seen at other parties. Of the four girls there beside Cindy and myself, I was still in the dark about the color of pubic hair of two of them after an hour and a half. The other two had managed to be "unladylike" or "indiscreet" in sitting down, however. All that changed at eleven o'clock, apparently the witching hour in that comer of suburbia. Everyone shed their clothes, or helped someone else shed theirs -- two fellows were most attentive at helping me out of mine, particularly out of my bra and panties -- and jumped in the pool. We were all like a bunch of kittens playing around in the water. Yet the effect of pool lights on naked bodies was not without its benefits and soon everyone was more or less paired off.
Some headed for the shadows. Others didn't. A girl with jet black hair, both above and below, sat at the side of the pool leaning back on her arms while Bill sucked her cunt. Another couple reversed it with the guy on the edge getting eaten by Cindy in the water. My own partner, named Al, took me to a lounge chair where he laid me down and slid the most elegantly long, curved cock about a mile deep inside me. He was a most accomplished fucker, smooth and easy but with a controlled fire that raged red hot at the end.
Then we danced, cooled off and naked, holding each other close and swaying to the music. Someone else cut in, and the feel of his prick hard against my stomach began to warm me up again. A male body closed in behind me to make us a trio. His prick between my legs touching the lips of my crack and reawakening them. I was vaguely aware of a haughty-looking blonde with a brown-haired cunt engaged with Bob in sixty-nine on a couch. Then, a minute later, I realized she was heading my way. Looking slightly down at me with a sardonic, hollow-cheeked look, she made a move to cut in. The fellow I was with let her. The bulge of her breasts was warm and soft against my own. Her bush pressed against my own rather protuberant mound. She had a masterful attitude, but she was warm nevertheless, and I blended my body against hers. Then she kissed me. I responded, and opening my mouth, received in it not her tongue but the hot thick semen that she had just sucked from Bob's prick and hadn't swallowed. At another moment I might have been revolted, but just then it was as exciting as a lightning bolt. We moved the semen back and forth between our mouths as we moved our hands now back and forth along each others wet slits. She maneuvered me to a chair, which I sank into. She looked down at me with the same sardonic look, threw a long leg across the chair and slowly lowered her cunt to my face. I buried my nose and mouth in it sucking furiously. I felt my legs pulled apart father and then the delicate stroke of a female tongue tingling my clitoris. She just teased me for a couple of minutes before going at my cunt with all her vigor, reaching back under her to toy with my tits as I was pulling hers hanging above my stomach. We both came in super face-clutching orgasms, after which, the rest of the evening was truly anti-climactic.
Chapter Nine
That little story was intended to show that Bob doesn't show himself as he really is. He can be aggressive and isn't just a passive voyeur, always seduced never seducing. But I don't want to overdo the correction of viewpoint. There is something of the voyeur in his make-up just as there is some exhibitionist tendency in me, although not as much as he makes out. To a certain extent the two are complementary. I don't know if he has ever watched me screwing in order to make me enjoy it more, which I don't think it would since unknown or slightly known onlookers are more likely to turn me on. I do know that on occasion I have done things in a showy way for him to watch. What he wrote about a husband being excited by the possessing of his wife by another man he told me before our trip to the resort. My initial impetus to take money for fucking and to literally prostitute myself was in hopes of increasing this thrill for him. And, in fact, I think it did. The fuck he gave me after I told him about it in detail was wildly passionate. But he is also right in saying that I got a thrill out of taking the money. I've never done it since and never will, at least not in such a blatant way, but that one experience was terrific. I actually had the money clutched in my hand while be was ramming it up me, and appropriately, I've now forgotten his name.
I did learn a very important lesson at that resort, though. Before that, as I said, I knew how to savor the delight of making other people horny by fucking in front of them. I had even figured out what postures gave people the best view of a prick going into my cunt or whatever. But until I sold the right to stick a cock up me, I never realized that the monetary aspect can turn people on as well. Buying something that cannot be legally bought and enjoying it clandestinely contributes a thrill of secrecy and illegality to sex. Hiring a run-of-the-mill prostitute might be just a way to get a lay, but high-priced, high-class girls in a respectable resort hotel, particularly in the situation of a late-night swimming pool orgy, are something else, something more exciting somehow than the same orgy would be in the backyard pool with neighborhood friends a la the Merriams.
And the conclusion I drew from that lesson plus my earlier discoveries was that participating in a paid sex show of some kind must he the biggest kick of all. I was sure I could never convey all this to Bob. I didn't try. Instead I talked it over with first Dave and Judy and then Frank and Marie, all of whom are less hung up about sex than Bob. They all sympathized with me one way or another, Sue Ann and Roger didn't. The upshot, of course, was our traveling sex show, but that wasn't the only result.
We worked on various skits involving the five of us for quite some time. All of us tried our hand at writing and directing, or shall I say choreographing. It was harder than we had first thought. Moreover, the three acts that came out of it, our "repertoire", were not our best ideas. But they were the only ideas that proved both endurable -- that is to say nobody was forced to fuck more than they normally could -- and visible to a seated audience. We thought of audience participation and close-in viewing but rejected it as too uncontrollable. Still, we didn't just junk our other efforts. Roger wouldn't participate, but he did agree to put his not-inconsiderable cinematic skill at our disposal to film some of what we couldn't do live. Of course, we made Roger and Sue Ann promise not to tell Bob until after he'd seen the real show. Therefore, he didn't know about the films until after he had written his last chapter. Since then, he's seen them and has praised their aesthetic and sexy qualities. Nevertheless, he doesn't see any way in which they change things, even though to me they clearly demonstrate the difference I'm trying to show between the manic exhibitionism he ascribes to me and the joy-giving, loving exhibitionism I'm willing to admit to. He doesn't see that, if you fuck in front of a camera, there's no audience feedback. You don't feel hot eyes on you. You aren't performing for the camera crew, certainly not for Roger, who had already seen it all. It's the intuitive joy of giving unknown people a retreat into sex, someplace to slip into away from the troubles of life and simply immerse themselves in sex, that is important. Bob's notion of exhibitionism is selfish and taking, mine is open and giving.
Our first film was about camping: it was silent because we didn't have any sound recorder. A couple, Frank and I, are going camping. They pick up a teenage hitchhiker, Judy, and persuade her to join them. They camp and are shortly joined by another unknown couple who pitch a tent alongside them. (We picked a gorgeous camping spot on some land owned by the Ungers where no real campers are allowed.) The five people get to know each other and are shown doing camping things and recreational things, in the course of which, revealing shots of the girls are taken. All three girls are caught changing to swimming suits or something like that by the men who thus see their breasts, and the camera shows the girls looking at the bulges of their erections.
Next there is an improvised shower stall surrounded by a few beach towels. The three girls take turns showering and keeping the shower bucket above the stall filled. The camera on the inside of the stall shows all three girls naked. They soap each other, particularly between the legs. The men outside are shown with stiff swimming trunks catching glimpses of the action through gaps in the screen. Then comes an episode with Dave alone with me in the woods. He takes me in his arms and we go through a long bit undressing each other and kissing. I suck his penis, and then he fucks me.
Thereafter follow shorter bits alternating between Frank and Dave, showing each of them screwing each of the girls. The takes get shorter and emphasize more and more the actual cock in the cunt and the spurt of orgasm. Then come two different trio bits. I surprise Frank with Marie, join them and wind up eating her out while Frank goes up my ass. Dave eats me, kneeling over his face, while Judy slides up and down on his prick and pulls at my nipples. Then Judy and Marie at sixty-nine real close so you can see tongues really getting between the cunt lips. All at a faster tempo with more closeups and climaxes. Next, I'm athwart the gunwales of a canoe. Dave is fucking me from the rear, and I'm sucking Frank leaning back on the bow. That scene was a bit tricky. And finally there's a five-way match. Frank and Judy are naked, sitting on the edge of a wall, kissing and hugging. I'm standing in front of Frank sucking his prick, and Marie is beside me eating out Judy and feeling my tits. At the rear, Dave sticks his dick first up Marie and then up me. Then the campers are seen driving away, leaving Judy by the side of the road, and it's over.
Now I won't say that was a very innovative screenplay, or even that it was especially well done. Still, it was artfully photographed and had the desired effect. When we've shown it to swinging friends, it's always touched off a great orgy. Usually I feel a hand working around my cunt before the first real bit is over, and I always have a head between my legs by the time the canoe shots are through. Besides, it was a beginner's film. We learned a lot. On our next one, we even used titles with dialogue framed with flowery borders and couched completely in the patois of Victorian pornographers. The plot is only slightly better, but it's covered up by the use of Victorian costumes and exaggerated theatrical manners. There is a lascivious male, Roderect, and his equally bawdy girlfriend, Titty. They wish to marry, but Roderect cannot do so until his older sister, the innocent Virginia, is wed. Titty has a brother, Timidy, who sighs for Virginia but will do no more. Dolly is a girlfriend of both Titty and Virginia. The plan is to seduce Timidy and Virginia into making love after which they will have to get married.
As it starts, Roderect and Titty are sitting on a couch talking animatedly. Roderect keeps slipping his hand between the buttons of her blouse, and she keeps slapping them away playfully. Still he gradually gets a few buttons undone and we can see the nipple of one breast.
Titty: "Please desist, my dearest loved one. We must find a way to make my shy brother, Timidy, marry your maiden sister, Virginia, so that we, too, might wed."
Titty looks innocently blank, obviously trying to think, while Roderect frees her other breast and begins licking her nipples and toying with them with his lips.
Roderect: "What is your plan my beloved?"
Titty stands and buttons up. Roderect's arms are beneath her long skirt in the back. We can see a profile of stockinged legs rising to fancy garters.
Titty: "Well raise each to a passion by describing their intended's charms. Then well inveigle them into spying on us embracing that they might get the idea."
A shot of the proposed interview between Roderect and Virginia shows Virginia pacing the room nervously, fluttering a fan, panting, and showing intense embarrassment. She even covers her ears, but not completely.
Roderect: "Why so flustered, dear sister, when I describe Timidy, who loves you, as having a noble engine of love. Truly you will swoon when you see it. Limp, it is sweet, soft delicacy to tempt the lips of fairest maid. Erect, it is a valiant soldier ready for whatever service you desire."
Roderect leaves the room. Virginia collapses to a sofa, her hand to her brow. She puts her other hand to her beating breast, and as she calms, tentatively begins to rub it. Her other hand is now discovered pressing against her lower abdomen and then rubbing lower still. A cut to Titty and Timidy finds sister pressing against his back and whispering in his ear while he tries to lose himself in a book.
Titty: "But Virginia is just waiting for you, sweet brother. Will you ignore those snowy mounds capped by sweetest cherries longing to be tasted. Will you not plumb her dewy pink lovenest and run your fingers through the golden silk that crests it, part those soft and pliant lips that hide her dearest treasure."
Titty keeps on talking and rubbing her body more and more sensuously against her brother's back. Finally she peeps around his body, spies the tent made by his stiff penis and retreats from the room with a knowing smile. Timidity puts his book down and gazes abstractly through the window as if unaware that his right hand is unloosing his cock from his pants. Another cut finds Virginia reading in a chair. She perks up and puts a hand to her ear.
Roderect: "Come, delectable Titty, let us seize a moment of love in the deserted parlor where no one can see us."
Virginia hides behind a Japanese screen just as the two enter. Taking Titty on his knee, Roderect immediately undoes her bodice and fondles her tits. Virginia looks away in alarm and then looks back. Roderect is dandling Titty's tits and pinching her nipples while she undoes his fly. She strokes his prick lovingly.
Roderect: "What delightful love apples these are, Titty."
Titty: "And what a splendid marble pillar is this with its capital of ruby quartz."
Roderect lifts Titty's skirts to her waist, and she opens her legs to show a pretty brown cunt. Roderect feels it and runs two fingers into it. Then she lays back on the sofa, and he gets on her, making sure his sister gets a good view of his prick going into her. They fuck, and Virginia is frequently shown with expressions blending horror, embarrassment, and intense excitement. Roderect ejaculates very obviously.
Titty: "I die! I faint! I expire!"
Roderect: "I come! Fuck! Cunt! Fuck!"
In the next scene, Timidy, like Virginia, is quietly reading when he gives signs of hearing something. In the next room, behind a partially open door, are Roderect and Titty.
Titty: "Be silent, my dear one, or my brother will hear us and spy on us."
Drawn by this, Timidy tiptoes to the door, peeps around it, recoils melodramatically, and then looks again. The camera switches to what he is seeing. Titty is sitting slouched on a chaise lounge, her bodice undone and her delightful breasts uncovered. Roderect is at her feet sneaking her skirt higher and higher against her pretended remonstrances. As more and more leg shows, Timidy's interest is shown to increase. Her dark stockings end at mid-thigh garters, and the white skin above them looks soft and inviting.
Roderect: "Don't hide your sweet honey pot from me, dearest one!"
Titty: "Oh, you are so forward! I blush!"
Finally, the last few inches are achieved. Little by little we are given a full view of Titty's cunt, the camera zooming in on it as Roderect pries her legs open. The lips are swollen, moist-looking and slightly parted. Roderect goes into rapture at the sight; Timidy is equally enthralled but not as demonstrative. Then Roderect buries his face in Titty's muff and starts to eat her out. He proceeds, and Titty writhes in pleasure to which she adds by fiddling with her nipples. Then her legs spread to the utmost, she comes with a great paroxysm.
Titty: "Oh! I succumb! I swoon!"
Roderect: "How sweetly your amorous ointment pearls from your crimson grotto." (How Roderect manages to say this with his mouth full of cunt is left up in the air.)
The two lovers are shown again conversing, but this time in a state of dejection. Pert, black-haired Polly comes up all cheery and obviously inquires about their glumness. She sits between them, and they tell her, not without both of them laying expressive hands on her thighs, shoulders, and bosom.
Titty: "Alas, I have done all in my power to make my brother seduce sweet Virginia, and to no avail."
Roderect: "And I the same with my sister. Perhaps, dear Polly, as you are friend of them both, you might lend your sweet persuasions to the effort of seduction."
Polly: "But of course. I'll go now and approach them."
Polly gives Roderect a fervent kiss to which he adds roving hands and then gives an equally fervent kiss to Titty. Next we see her talking in intimate fashion with Virginia.
Virginia: "But how can my dear brother wish upon me the affections of a man I barely know, when it was his virile staff that I saw in action plumbing the depths of Titty's canyon. I confess that, despite his being my brother, it is his throbbing pillar I wish to feel between my thighs, not Timidy's."
Polly looks the wiser and, parting from Virginia, joins Timidy in conversation. At first Timidy is restrained and holds back, but finally he comes through with a passionate confession.
Timidy: "Know then, charming Polly, and keep close my secret, that when my dear sister pressed upon me the consideration of Virginia's charms, it was not her enticing words that brought my rod up but the feel of her soft globes rubbing against me. Moreover, seeing Roderect tasting her love dew inspired in me the desire to take his place rather than to imitate him with his sister. Alas, I am hopelessly captivated by my own sister's charms."
Polly: "Perhaps, as both you and Virginia suffer from the same affliction of the heart, I can act to gain for everyone the ends they desire."
Next Polly is seen conversing with Roderect alone, but not apparently telling him about the new turn of events. Gradually they talk less and dally more until Roderect has undone Polly's bodice and is massaging her tits, and she has released once again his hard prick. Then, quickly, they disrobe each other and after embracing fall to sucking each other off. Polly is on top, her cunt covering Roderect's face and blocking any sight of Virginia who now enters and rapidly, but artfully, strips. Suddenly he senses that the mouth on his cock has changed, but still he cannot see. He gropes beside him and feels a body which he quickly ascertains is feminine by feeling the cunt. Then Polly comes, or at least pretends to, and rises to reveal to Roderect that the girl sucking him off, in whose slit his fingers are buried, is none other than his sister. He sits up in shock and grabs her, but then tenderly draws her to him in a more than brotherly embrace. This, in turn, leads to an amorous fuck with Virginia astride him, gazing down into his eyes as she slides up and down his glistening cock. Polly stands by kissing Virginia's tits and feeling Roderect's slick prick as it slips out of her. The brother and sister return equal caresses until all climax.
Virginia: "Oh, brother! I am consumed! Your spunk burns my inside! Thrust deeper! Fill me with fraternal jizm!"
Roderect: "I spend, dear sister! Your darling, sisterly sweetbox grabs at my member! Oh! Sister fuck! Sister cunt!"
Then once again we see Polly, not unexpectedly talking with Titty. Their talk is obviously spicy, and before long their hands are beneath each other's skirts. They pull each other's skirts up high, and with fiery eyes they masturbate one another. Before long they are naked and grinding their pussies together. Titty lays back on the sofa, and Polly sits back pulling her girlfriend's legs far apart to admire her parted cuntlips. Behind Polly, unseen by Titty, Timidy approaches on tiptoes, his eight inch erection curving up to his belly button before him. Titty is waiting for the first touch of Polly's tongue on her clitoris, but instead Timidy is upon her and thrust full deep in her cunt. She cries out. Then she relaxes. They fuck vigorously, and as they do, Virginia and Roderect enter, still naked. The two of them join Polly as bystanders, shouting encouragement and handling each other's sex organs.
Polly: "Fuck her, Timidy! Drive to the hilt! Fill your dear sister's cunny with your hot spunk!"
Roderect: "Answer him thrust for thrust, fair Titty! Close your silken purse on his fiery charger and squeeze it as you do mine! Fuck!"
Virginia: "Oh, Timidy, fuck her hard! Empty your ballocks into her sugary nest! Only now do I see how delectable your manly spear can be!"
Titty and Timidy together: "I come! I die! I expire! I spend!"
With that, the brother and sister pair separate, and the five naked people cluster together amorously. All kiss and fondle. Then they divide again. Virginia and Titty kneel, facing each other. Timidy enters Virginia from the rear, and Roderect does the same to Titty. Polly lies on her back and slides herself beneath the heads of the two-girls. The fit is perfect. Virginia sucks Polly's cunt while being fucked by Timidy, and Polly and Titty suck each others nipples while Titty is being fucked by Roderect. This scene fades out before climax, replaced by the caption:
They came. They married. They lived happily ever after.
This second film was in every way more successful than the first. Not only was it better plotted, better photographed and somewhat funny, but it was more erotic. Recently we showed it to our new next-door neighbors, whom we have gotten to know fairly well, to say the least. All of the actors were at the party, but what with the costumes, Ellen and Harry didn't recognize at first who was in it. It dawned on Harry only when the film was really getting hot that he was sitting between Virginia and me, at that moment fucking in a closeup on the screen with Roderect, and Polly and Marie, at that moment being eaten out in the film. And when it did dawn on him, he hardly knew what to do he was so hot. He had been casually stroking my pussy before that, not even inside my panties. But now he seemed to go wild. He grabbed at both my dress and Marie's and practically tore our clothes off. Then he was sucking our cunts alternately and grabbing at our tits. And finally, he couldn't satisfy himself with only one of us so he made Marie lie on top of me in a semi-recumbent position so that, half kneeling in front of the couch, he could stick his prick first up Marie's crack from behind and then drop a few inches lower and stick it up mine. It was a noble effort, but it didn't work. In the end he had to settle for fucking me first and then Maria and then Judy. Since this meant he was monopolizing three of the four girls, dainty blonde Ellen took on the enviable chore of receiving Bob's, Frank's, and Dave's orgasm's one after the other. And on top of that, insatiable Harry insisted on doing sixty-nine with his wife so that she could lick three different cunt juices from his cock, and he could suck three deposits of semen from her oozing twat.
But all of this is really getting away from what I want to say. It was great to make a picture that excited people so, but it was just as great a feeling when I wasn't actually at the showing. Just the thought of people turning on at the sight of my cunt covered with wet hairs matted with juice and semen and being plumbed by a thick hard prick was enough.
We made a third movie, but it wasn't as successful as the second. We decided to try a classic teen-age orgy scene with three girls and two boys in one automobile. The trouble was that it was too hard to film in any kind of explicit detail, and this was disappointing because we had tremendous fun doing it. It made me feel like I was in high school again, but this time, instead of being comparatively conservative, I was way ahead of my time. In the cramped space I couldn't actually fuck satisfactorily, but I was absolutely surrounded, by hands reaching under my skirt and inside my sweater, feeling my tits and cunt, sucking my nipples, and so on. And I had ready access to pricks and cunts and breasts to suck and feel. It was really a gas. I only wish I could have done it at fifteen when all those things were still forbidden and untried.
From the movies we went on to live performances. Three skits were feasible for audiences, and we tried one at each of our engagements. Or perhaps we had four engagements. The whole thing has become rather hazy in my memory. I do remember the last show pretty well because I wrote it, and I liked the period costumes we got to wear. I also remember Roger and Sue Ann there with Bob and his date. Afterward, when we were all sitting around at Dave and Judy's house recuperating, not just from the show but from the whole trip, which was much more exhausting than we had anticipated, I recall wondering what kind of time Bob had had after the show, whether he had joined in a big free-for-all. On an earlier occasion we had stayed to join the audience in an orgy, but it was too much to take. Not only were we worn out from the performance, but every man in the audience wanted to dip his wick in the actresses' cunts.
It was the next day when I went home and rejoined Bob after our long separation that we began our two-week moratorium on sex which Bob makes so much of. Now a good part of that moratorium, from my side at least, was a combination of exhaustion; physical, mental, and sexual, and satisfaction with just being back with Bob again. After all, we had never been separated for such a long time before, and for all his faults and hang-ups, I do love him, and I do like to fuck with him. But there was more to the moratorium than that; or perhaps it would be better to say that the moratorium induced by those two considerations gave me a long time to reflect and consider what all we had done since we first set about swinging and what it might all come to.
I'll certainly confess that I had a lot of thinking to do. Bob did, too, but I don't think he knew it. I think he still doesn't know it. For one thing, I had thought several times of divorcing him. Now that's a franker statement than any pseudo-philosophical crap you'll get from him. It occurred to me to divorce him because I didn't need him as a sex partner and was pretty much decided against having children, and also because he wasn't even the best lay I knew. He's good, but Frank is bigger and can go deeper and harder, both fore and aft. Dave is more tender. The guy named Al, who fucked me at the Merriams' pool party, had a much more aesthetic cock and sophisticated stroke. In retrospect, Al may have been the most skillful fucker ever to get inside me.
Furthermore, I thought of divorcing Bob because, it's funny to say, he's so hung up about sex. I know I've tried to redeem his character somewhat in what I've written above. I really do think he presents a much worse picture of himself than he merits. But still, he's a lot more hung up about sex than most of the other male swingers I know. I always feel I have to humor him and play up to his insecurity, and I get tired of it.
But besides thinking about divorce, which had actually been in the back of my mind when I determined to go on the trip, for that would let me know what a temporary estrangement felt like, I had something else to think about. First, I had gone about as far as I could go, short of becoming a prostitute or a professional sex-film star, that is. Beyond this, my amateur standing was a danger. Did I want to stop now before I really did something irrevocable? That was one consideration. Another was that I was going to age, inevitably, and become less attractive as a sex partner. I had seen my share of matronly swingers, and I knew they were borne as a burden by the younger, more attractive members of any group. Did I want to put all my eggs in the sex basket only to find the basket falling apart in my hands? And finally, I was fully aware of the satiety effect. I'm really in love, I think, with Bob, Dave, Frank and Roger. Each of them has fucked me and sucked me and buggered me, I don't know how many times. And I'm equally fond of Marie, Judy, and Sue Ann, the exact odor and taste of whose cunts I can summon to mind at a moment's notice. But unquestionably I am tired of all of them. It just isn't possible to continually find new and exciting strangers to make it with. And if you try, you eventually lose your taste for sex in general. Did I want to emphasize only that part of my life that was most liable to become stale and boring?
As I thought it over, all three of these last considerations became part of one big question: to stop now or to go on? And to that was added the question: if I go on, do I go on with Bob? It's hardly surprising, I think, that it took me two full weeks to think about these questions. I didn't think about them constantly, of course, but I kept turning them over in my mind. The obvious answer that kept coming up was that stopping now was the only realistic alternative. But always weighed against this was the gutsy feeling, or should I say the cunt feeling, that I like sex more than anything, and I simply don't want to stop.
Well, I know you're panting to know my answer to these questions. I'm afraid it will be unsatisfactory, though. I know Bob thinks it is. He doesn't understand. The fact of the matter is that, at the end of the two weeks, I came finally to the confident realization that the questions I was asking myself were not really inherent in the situation. I was not, in fact, being compelled to do anything. The mental pressure of the whole thing was just that, mental pressure. Why on earth couldn't I live with Bob, whom I loved, make love with whomever I wanted, whenever and as often as I wanted, and as time went on, simply do or abstain as my desire dictated. All I had been feeling was guilt, good old American sex guilt, rationalized and compartmentalized to the extent that I couldn't see it for what it was. And the realization that all my worries were just guilt suddenly made them fall from me. Ever since then, I've felt pure of heart about sex. I'm not saintly, mind you. I still get pissed off when Bob can't understand what I'm talking about. But basically, I have reached the free and open frame of mind I had always thought I had, but had really only approximated.
I think the final certainty of all this hit me about an hour before Harry and Ellen were to come over for coffee. I just glowed with the thrill of the thought. When it was time for them to come, I sent Bob on an errand so I could meet them alone. They were both beautiful people, and I frankly wanted to make it with them, if they were willing. I took off my bra and left my blouse unbuttoned with the shirttails tied at the waist. My shorts were half unzipped at the side, and my panties were off. They came in the door, and I put my arms around Harry and gave him my deepest, most loving kiss which I finished off by feeling his prick with both hands. Then I turned to cute little Ellen, who looked dumfounded, and gave her a similar kiss. I reached under her skirt and put my hand on her pussy inside her panties. It creamed up immediately. I separated from them, stripped in two seconds, and said simply, "I want to make love." And then we were lost in love, and you know, I can't remember which of them was licking my gushing slit when Bob came home...
