"The cabin was cathedral-like in design and magnificence. A huge A-frame, it had one wall of nearly all glass with inserts of stained glass on either side and in a triangular shape at the apex of the window. I could imagine how it would look in early morning, with streaks of sunlight shooting through that colored glass, a beautifully conceived frame for the landscape of snow and mountains and lake outside. It was obvious that the owners of the cabin had taste and imagination.
"Reed put his arm around me as we chatted briefly with our host, who insisted I call him Brad. He was older, with a greying mustache and sideburns, and that orangy-tanned face of the very well cared for, the very rich. He was good-looking in a way that had nothing to do with facial features. For a man in his fifties he had a firm, muscular body, and the tight slacks he wore made a promise out of every word he said.
"Sandra, Brad's wife, soon detached herself from the small group of couples she'd been drinking with, and her beautiful face was alive with excitement as she came over to us. "Key game, darling?" she asked her husband, touching his arm.
"A look of mild irritation crossed Brad's face, reminding me of a little boy on the verge of boredom and frustration. "No. We did that last time." He sipped his drink absently for a moment, then gave a hint of a smile. "Musical chairs. At least we haven't tried that for a while. And I feel energetic tonight!"
"Sandra kissed his cheek and turned to the others, her flame red gown spiraling out around her.
"Brad wants musical chairs! Girls, you all know where the bedrooms are!" She was like an especially lovely teenager announcing a round of spin-the-bottle.
"I looked at Reed quickly, but he just nodded. Sandra returned and took my hand. "Come, darling, you're the only newcomer tonight. You may have the master bedroom!"
"I resisted an urge to glance back at Brad as I let the honey-haired woman lead me up the compelling flight of wrought iron stairs. Down the long, highly waxed wooden hallway the other women were disappearing into rooms, and I couldn't help feeling a sudden twinge of sexual excitement. The name of the game we were about to play sounded suspiciously obvious, and I felt a fluttery helpless feeling because now, this second time, it was going to be so much easier than the first . . . already I was feeling my nipples stiffening and my hot juices beginning to flow.. . .
"Here, Adele, isn't it lovely?" Sandra waved her hand to include the huge bed with its lush tapestry spread, the simple yet elegant furnishings, the chocolate fuck rug and the dazzling assortment of antique music boxes and cut-glass spray bottles which artfully cluttered the top of a richly carved ancient vanity with a curving mirror which reflected both of us.
"Lovely," I repeated, meaning it. Then Sandra spoke again on her way out, and my appreciation for the interior decorating was forgotten.
"Undress quickly, darling. The men have never been known for their patience. Oh, and only one rule-should you find yourself with your own man. . . . " she giggled, then flicked off the light as she stood poised in the doorway, "you must do something you've never done to each other before. I don't think that's possible with Brad and myself, but do try. Have fun!"
"I undressed with only the light from the dim hallway to see by. Placing my gown over the back of a chair, I quickly got into the big bed. Already I could hear the sound of footsteps in the hall, muted giggles from the other rooms, and the soft, final thuds of doors being closed. The sounds made what would come next a reality, and I gently pinched a nipple to keep from enduring the sweet ache another moment. Then a man quickly stepped into the room and closed the door.
"I held my breath in the darkness, releasing it when the bed sagged under the weight of another body. A hand reached out, slid up my body, rested against my cheek, and then he was kissing me, his tongue going into my mouth while a hand went to my naked breast. It felt firm and hot and demanding, and my hard nipples swelled against the palm, wanting to be crushed.
"Adele? You Reed's girl, Adele?" The voice was deep and masculine, but completely unknown to me.
"Yes," I whispered, closing my eyes and responding to the rough hand squeezing my flesh.
"I got the jackpot, first try. It's going to be a great night," he said, pulling away from me.
"The sensual, wonderful feel of his hand on me was so good that I reached to bring him back.
"He laughed. "Hot little bitch, huh? Fine. That happens to be just the way I like them. Don't worry, baby, I'm not going anywhere. I just want to get rid of these clothes. You'll like me even better without them."
"My face flamed in the darkness as I waited, and then he was back, his body long and hot and hard against me. I'd pulled the spread back and had managed to free a sheet from the bedding, which I'd used to cover myself, though I'd smiled at this lingering touch of modesty. My partner now peeled off the sheet, chuckling a little as he fitted his body to mine. It felt so good, this fleshy kiss.
"Who . . . I don't know who you are," I whispered finally, after another deep, wet kiss. His tongue inflamed me as it explored the inside of my mouth, and I moaned as he kneaded my breasts with both strong hands.
"Does it matter? Jess, baby. Now do you remember?"
"I didn't, but I realized he was right. What did it matter? He was fiting his knees inside my legs and my hot young body was responding. His cock attracted me like a magnet, and I felt my hips lifting and swaying, my juicing cunt attempting to plaster itself against his bar of throbbing flesh. I thought briefly of Reed, off in another bedroom, plying his wonderful prick or snake-like tongue on another woman's body. But I couldn't hold the jealous thought very long, not with hands touching me, lips kissing me, a cock seeking my slit. . . .
"You move like you haven't had any for a month! Jesus, I love a hot bitch!" Jess ducked his head and began to suck my nipples, going from one to the other and then back again. "You have beautiful tits, baby. You're beautiful all over. . . ." His hand worked across my body, moving over my belly and dropping to the insides of my thighs.
"I moaned softly as he began to play with my moist slit. He used one finger to scout ahead and explore my inflamed clitoris and then he brought his thumb up, sinking it deeply inside my body. With his other hand he brought my sweating palm to his swollen cock. "Just play with it nice, Adele. That's it. . . . Don't pump it too much or I'll come all over your hand. That's good. . . . "
"From the next bedroom I could hear a muffled scream of orgasm. It made me wonder if it had been Reed who had skillfully evoked that outcry. It was so strange, to wonder that-and care, too-even while my hand stroked and rubbed the throbbing cock of another man.
"Jess pulled away. "You keep playing real nice like that, hear. Just don't stop. Don't get too vigorous until you feel yourself start to come."
"I held on tightly while the rest of him moved over me. I felt the strong, hairy length of his leg brush my shoulder, and finally he was across me, half on his side, his cock poised so that I had easy access to it while his head was cushioned between the softness of my inner thighs.
"I held my breath as he began kissing and nibbling on my tender flesh. He played close to my aching core, but he was content to tease me for a while. Excited by the game, I began to sway my hips in an attempt to force his face on my hot and eager pussy. Meanwhile my hand tugged urgently on his prick and fondled his balls. It was crazy, his doing that to me, and finally I began to whimper in frustration.
"Something troubling you, baby?" He sucked a mouthful of flesh so close to my cunt that I could feel his breath on my pulsating clitoris.
"Oh, don't tease me anymore, Jess. Please! Do it, please! Do it to me. . . ." I pleaded, my free hand going helplessly to the back of his head, as if to force him to do as I asked.
"Do what, doll? Tell me what you want me to do. . . ." He licked his wet tongue down over the edge of my mound, his chin tickling the wiry dark hairs.
"I began jerking on his meat while my hips did a drum roll against his face. Jess either had a very effective approach toward women in general, or he was very perceptive about the way I liked my sex. I was so hot that I'd have begged on bended knee, if he'd wanted me to.
"And easy on that cock, honey, or I'll shoot off and that'll be the end of our fun, even before you get any. . . ."
"Immediately I stopped my frenzied beating of his flesh and arched my back, thrusting and opening my cunt for him. "Please," I whimpered, "please eat me. Lick my pussy. Please, Jess, I can't stand it. Don't tease me any more. Lick it! Lick it!" His hot breath was right on my pussy now; I could feel the juices dripping from my slit.
"Still he took his time about it. First he carefully lapped the hairy flesh of the outer lips while parting them with his sensitive fingers. Then he began tonguing the velvety inner folds, avoiding the throbbing button which ached for his attentions. Finally I felt the tip of his tongue quiver against the bottom of my clitoris, and I began to moan like a hurt child. Then, with no further warning, Jess sucked the entire marble of my throbbing clit into his mouth. He began to suck and lick it as if it were a little cock, and my body went wild from his unexpected direct manipulation. When Reed or other men had licked me it was always a slow and sweet building to orgasm, but Jess was attacking me as if he wanted to force my come. It was like being tongue raped, and at first I tried to slow him down, moderate his actions.
"No! Please, don't . . . not so rough! Ooh, Jess . . . no . . . no. . . . It's too much. . . . Go easy, please. Ooh . . . I can't . . . dont . . . I can't take it.. . ooh.. . ." I used both my hands on his head, weakly trying to pry his sucking mouth from my delicate clitoris. But he just reached up without a pause and returned my hands to his body, pressing one to his pounding cock and the other to his swollen balls.
"Helplessly I moaned and twisted on the bed, my hands fondling him passionately as he wished me to, my sensitive cunt a prisoner to his darting tongue, sucking mouth and sharp, nipping teeth. I felt as if I were tumbling headfirst into a black pit. It was a violent kind of sex, painless and yet almost too painful to bear. The fierce sensations rocked my body as his tongue lashing continued, and when finally he brought his strong hands up to squeeze and mold the tender flesh of my breasts I began to jerk my hand frantically over his throbbing cock. I could sense the hot come gathering in his balls and moving up for the final eruption, but I barely felt the thick cream explode over my hand. I was too busy biting back the scream which swept over me as my own body suddenly buckled and went wild. It was like finally descending to the bottom of that black pit, and I cried out with the most violent orgasm I'd ever known. . . .
"Only then did he grudgingly release his sucking mouth from my aching clitoris. . . .
"As if in a dream I watched the man wipe his hot come off his belly and leave the room. "We'll have to do that again real soon, honey," he said, throwing me a kiss. The door barely closed behind him before it again opened and another man entered the room, his clothing in his hand.
"Fortunately, this one only wanted to fuck me. . . . "
In our society it is usually customary to turn to the experts when one desires answers. We are a culture of specialization and scientific certainty, and we are frustrated when an attempt to scrutinize the changing sexual outlets of modern man by slide-rule techniques so often fails miserably. Man is an enigma insofar as his needs change drastically according to such unstable factors as his era and geography, while his desires shift and expand with lightning speed, and often without apparent provocation. In no area of life is this more obvious or interesting than his sexual desire and activity.
A generation or two ago the safety and security of a marriage revolved in part around sexual fidelity. A model union was one where there was no hint of extramarital indulgences, and a marriage would securely fit in that select catagory as long as there was no knowledge of adultery. Any outside loving had to be hidden and meetings clandestine, and success was judged not so much by what "really" went on, but by maintaining an impeccable appearance. It was the Kinsey research group which revealed the then-startling opinion, based on its study, that adulterous affairs which are not known to one's mate can actually help enhance and preserve one's marriage rather than serve to sabotage or destroy it. The keynote here is the secretiveness of the extra-marital affair.
The hazards to this kind of action are obvious. Albert Ellis, in his book Sea; Without Guilt, comments on the major drawback of such a devious means of sexual activity:
Because people in our culture believe adultery to be inimical to marriage, husbands and wives who engage in extramarital relations generally have to do so secretly and furtively. This means that they must be dishonest with their mates; and, although their adultery, in itself, might not harm their marriages, their dishonesty about this adultery . . . may well prove to be harmful.
A new openness and concentration on attempting mutual honesty became a popular subject in the suburbs of America in the last decade. More and more couples were admitting that sex with the same partner night after night, year after year was less satisfying than they had anticipated, and that the guilt and dishonesty which accompanied infidelity drastically reduced the pleasures of the act. It was in quiet suburbia that wife-swapping was launched, formally and enthusiastically, and the entire world read with fascination everything from eager testimonials plugging mate swapping as a marriage saver to sensationalistic suicide-murders attributed to this new couples game which had quickly replaced bridge at Friday night get-togethers.
The whole concept of monogamy became suspect and was reevaluated. In the book Psychology of Sex Havelock Ellis writes:
Until modern times monogamy has been regarded as the only legitimate form of marriage for our Western civilization. Indeed that has for the most part been assumed and taken for granted without discussion; any exceptional person who disputed this dogma, or even discussed it, was regarded, and usually in fact was, a crank, a negligible eccentric, if not something much worse. Today the question of the form of marriage cannot thus be taken for granted and dismissed, as a matter that has forever been fixed be religious, ethical, legal, and social regulations.
The custom of exchanging wives has been observed in many parts of the world. The Bany-ankoles of Central Africa invariably exchanged wives when they visited together. Once a similar custom prevailed among the natives of the Hawaiian Islands. Jokes are made about these wife-lending customs of the Eskimo, yet it is a time-honored folkway which is devoid of salacious overtones. The exogamous concept of lending wives to foreigners and other outsiders in the hope of producing nobler offspring is common practice in one form or another among many primitives, often as part of their religions. Marco Polo wrote:
In Eastern Tibet no man considered it dishonorable if a foreigner had relations with his wife or daughter or sister or other woman of the family. On the contrary, it was deemed an act of good fortune. Such was their superstition that they considered it would bring the favor of their gods and idols, and presaged an increase in temporal prosperity.
The swapping of wives between the Himalayan mountaineers was a usual practice when two men became angry or disgusted with their respective mates. This exchange would hopefully effect an improved domestic arrangement. If nothing else, it would help relieve boredom.
The leap from religious or sanctioned customary mate swapping to the clandestine suburban weekend switch party is both broad and divergent. It violates the taboos of our culture and has no friend in any of our popular religions. In the conventional vow of matrimony adultery, in any form, is mentioned negatively. By Judeo-Christian standards adultery is one of the ten most forbidden sins. Even in the face of our rapidly changing sexual mores we still give face value to the inviolability of the marriage bed. While extramarital sex has been a popular source for novelists, theologians, psychologists, and statisticians, and has filled more joke books than practically any other human diversion, it has only recently moved from the wrong side of the tracks to the family playroom. A generation ago adultery per se was considered a lesser crime if the "guilty" party had the "decency" to be discrete and not "foul the nest" with his-or her -transgressions. But generations earlier still, in various sophisticated societies, a gentleman of means who did not maintain a mistress was guilty of showing poor style. Their wives, however, were not permitted such luxuries. Times change. If grandfather sometimes dallied with a woman other than grandma and she found out about it, she might have been likely to pretend ignorance. It would not cross her mind to play a similar game with some mutton-chopped stranger. It would even have been rarer for her to confront her husband with his deed, and rarer still for her to protest indignantly what he had done. Grandma was "moral" if she was anything, and grandfather knew it. So who was he diddling, then, if the grandmas of the world were so moral? He was out with the opposite, of course, the vamp, that tramp, the lady who would and didn't ask for an affidavit of marital status first. But changing times produce new standards all the way around. We've taken our people beyond the all-good, all-bad fantasy, and now when pop's out with his boss' secretary his wife might be out with the boss. When the tip-toeing around, catch-as-catch-can-but-don't-tell-your-mate sex clashed with the out-front mutual honesty approach, the next cultural step would be a combination of the two, the extramarital sex conducted openly and, ideally, unemotionally so that the security of the marriage would not be threatened.
The larger possibilities of suburban swapping eventually were considered, such as developing sexual freedom leagues, using the free and easy sexuality to experiment with new emotional situations such as group marriages and sensitivity seminars, and, in a more down-to-earth vein, to utilize mate swapping to an economic advantage. From swapping with the neighbors it was a tempting natural step to swap with the boss or the would-be account, and quickly wife-swapping began to appeal to the higher economic classes, where the leisure time might be greater, the business pressures more intense, and the conventional needs and desires easily gratified so that more bizarre desires are created. The man on Wall Street is a prime example. He is a member of good standing in the affluent society, and by our standards, a success. He lives well, is vitally involved in the economy of a nation, indeed the entire world, and he has most of the comforts his "class" offers. He has long ago filled his real and practical needs, and even the contrived ones of a generally affluent nation. Samuel Johnson said:
Some desire is necessary to keep life in motion ; he whose real wants are supplied, must admit those of imagine.
And again:
Where necessity ends, desire and curiosity begin; no sooner are we supplied with everything nature can demand, then we sit down to contrive artificial appetites.
Add to that the realization that material success doesn't necessarily indicate emotional success or fulfillment and it becomes obvious why Henry Van Dyke, the American clergyman and author, once quipped: "You never see the stock called Happiness quoted on the exchange."
The men and women involved in the world of Wall Street are, in many ways, a select and privileged group. Their social position and financial solvency allow them a second look at that which is socially condemned or approved. They can "make" the law in some cases, "set" the standards. John Kenneth Galbraith considered that aspect thoughtfully in his book, The Affluent Society:
Because economic and social phenomena are so forbidding, or at least so seem, and because they yield few hard tests of what exists and what does not, they afford to the individual a luxury not given by physical phenomena. Within a considerable range he is permitted to believe what he pleases. He may hold whatever view of this world he finds most agreeable or otherwise to his taste.
Because of this he may experiment a bit, and titillate himself with new and blatant sexuality, and once his behavior is begun it may be the snowballing vanguard of a new standard in freedom for the daring and "with-it" group which was known until recently as the model of convention. In attempting to find new avenues for leisure satisfaction and heightened experience, sex is never too far afield. The structure of marriage, calling for monogamy, easily comes under scrutiny. Perhaps because it's not a natural animal condition. Morton M. Hunt, in The Natural History of Love, points out:
By and large, faithful monogamy does not seem to be a natural pattern, but a socially fabricated one; even so, it is rare to the point of seeming almost abnormal. . . .
And, finally:
Fidelity thus seems to some scholars difficult, unnatural, and greatly overpriced, and the insistence on it the cause of hypocrisy, guilt, unhappiness, and broken marriage.
With the natural stimulation the thought of sex with a new partner often produces, plus the thought-provocation of ideas such as the above, coupled with a freedom from the mundane afforded by the luxury of affluence and the built-in rationale of mutual honesty, it is no wonder that mate swapping has its appeal to this segment of society. Add to this the typical (if hidden) resentment of discovering in marriage that monogamy doesn't necessarily continue to be an all-consuming, gratifying sexual expression, which is particularly irritating since we're so often brainwashed into believing an ideal marriage is one where the initial flame of excitement continues to burn forever. The wise Dorothy Parker once wrote:
By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
It may not yet be possible to evaluate the effect of mate swapping on the society or to understand all the factors involved, but an examination of the case histories in this study testifies to one point-swapping is a current pastime of the affluent scions of Wall Street, and, if their behavior recalls the antics of the ancient Romans just before the fall, we might give thought to that time-honored quote from George Santayana: "He who will not learn from History may be forced to repeat it."
* * *
CHAPTER ONE - Mutual Fun at the Exchange
"Sitting in the air-conditioned office while I waited for Fred to finish his call so we could hopefully slip away for lunch, I grudgingly admitted to myself that there was a certain stir of excitement to the business. I'd been waiting close to an hour for my husband to be free, but call after call kept him at his desk, and each call seemed more important, more urgent than the last. I tried to decide whether that made my resentment of Fred stronger or lessened it slightly.
"I'd talked about it to Charlotte, whose husband Lew was Fred's partner, and she agreed that being married to a stockbroker was slowly driving her wild.
"Sure, the money's fine, and I'm glad Lew doesn't have to do work he detests or anything, but sometimes I think I might just as well not be there, for all he notices or cares. No, that's not exactly fair, I guess. Lew does care. It's just that I run a poor second to business. The market fascinates and stimulates him, and I can't. Wonder diets and daily workouts not withstanding."
"I knew what Charlotte meant. At thirty-three she was a knockout. An ex-stewardess, Charlotte had kept her trim figure, but desperation had pushed her a step further. Exercises, expensive facials, the finest of hairdressers, expert grooming and beautiful clothing combined to do the utmost for her. She was tastefully sexy, but with class. Any man would be proud to have this red-haired woman for a wife, and Lew was, I suppose, in a distracted sort of way. But as far as giving the kind of attention all that trying deserved, he and Fred were equally guilty.
"Not that I'm hard to take, either. I modeled bathing suits at one of the best department stores in the city before I met Fred, and that kind of work requires a good body. While I'm not what you'd call a perfect beauty, I know how to enhance what I have, and Charlotte's shown me a thing or two about creating something nature didn't give, such as a beautiful cap of blonde curls in place of my naturally brown straight hair. At thirty I get as many propositions and whistles as I did at eighteen. I'm never ignored at parties. But when it comes to Fred, I'm just . . . there. We've reached the point where nothing much was happening in the relationship. Oh, we loved each other. It wasn't that. But there was no excitement in our lives. The living together part of it. That's where the resentment came in. Fred and Lew had something stimulating in their world. It was different for them. All day long they dealt with important things, moving and directing the flow of economy, remaining swept up in a moving world while we stayed in limbo, our world having stopped when we got married.
"The worst of it was we couldn't help seeing their point of view about things when they showed no desire to come home and show us a lot of attention. The pressures and strains of their high-powered days at work left them drained, and, though it hurt, I knew it was difficult getting up a lot of excitement towards the women they had been sleeping with for ten or twelve years. Not that the knowledge made any of it easier.
"At first I tried hard to pretend it wasn't a sexual need I was feeling. I chose to think of it in terms of a family problem. Our daughter Sandy went to school upstate, and while she couldn't feel the lack of a father from that distance, it did affect her when she was home. Charlotte had two kids, and Lew had little energy for them, either, so it was easy to call our situation a family problem.
"Who are we kidding?" Charlotte said one day while we were lunching in town. "It's sex, April. Nothing but raw, delicious sex. Or, in this case, the lack of it."
"I think it's a little more complex than that," I began to argue, but Charlotte shook her pretty head impatiently.
"Sure. It's a dozen or more other things, too. Everything's complex. But it's the sex that really bugs us. How long has it been since you've had an orgasm?"
"With anyone else I'd have turned a delicate shade of red, but I was used to Charlotte's outspokenness. "A week or so," I answered after a pause.
"How was it?"
"How was what? It just was, you know?" There were times when she exasperated me, much as I loved her.
"She looked at me for a moment, and though I expected her sudden, flashing smile, it didn't come. "Don't play games with me, April. I'm asking for your own good. How long has it been?"
"Seeing that she was serious I gave the question some real thought. For some reason I seemed to be having trouble thinking about the two of us in bed together, which was crazy, because sex had always been so good for us. "I don't know, Charlotte. A month or so, I'd say.' A sudden flare of heat licked between my thighs as I remembered that last time. We'd gone to a party and Fred had had too much to drink, and he'd used his tongue on me for the first time in a long while.
"That's about what I thought. Me too. And you think sex isn't our big problem? Ha!" She tapped her long fingernail on the rim of her cocktail glass. "They're tired of us. It's that simple. They get variety and stimulation at work each day, then they come home to a comfortable rut. It's a wonder that they haven't located themselves a couple of mistresses."
"I tried to imagine Fred with another woman. "What can we do about it?" Nervously I tried to imagine Fred with another woman for a wife. I could just see some smart girl looking at him as a fine passport to a life of comfort and ease. It could happen. It had happened to more than one of our friends.
"I have an idea, April, dear. It has to do with throwing in a little variety and stimulation. Come over to my house this evening for dinner, you and Fred, and afterwards . . . well, just follow my lead, huh? And be prepared for anything."
"There was no getting her to say another word, so I returned home curious and thinking harder about my marriage and sex life than I ever had before. Charlotte had left me with one question as I'd gotten out of her car: 'What's your biggest fear about Fred making love to another woman?" When I didn't answer she told me hers. "Some little bitch might try to take him away from me. For a nice, cushy future. If our husbands have to stray a little in order for them to regain an interest in sex, what say we choose partners for them, huh?"
"I took a long, worried bath, my mind playing with Charlotte's words. Finally, unable to stand it, I toweled myself dry, slipped into a robe and headed for the phone next to my bed. She answered at once. "Come on, Char, what have you in that little sneaky mind of yours? I've been thinking about what you said and the way Fred's interest in sex with me has gone downhill in the last year or two, and I think you're right, damn it. He is bored, and I don't know how long he'll stay bored before he does something about it."
"April, if Lew was going to make love to another woman I'd want her to be someone who wouldn't try to take him from me. I'd want it to be someone I liked and trusted. Someone like you."
"In the background I could hear the nervous tapping of Charlotte's fingernail against something wooden. "Do you mean. . . . "
"Wait, let me finish. It's only a matter of time and you know it. There are just too many available girls. And once they start playing behind our backs it's all over. The guilt on Lew's part, and the suspicion on mine, would kill our marriage even if the cheating didn't. It's true for Fred, too. But if we give them variety right at home, so to speak, what could we lose? I find Fred attractive and sexy, but I wouldn't want to take him away from you. And I know Lew would never take Fred's place with you."
"I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. I had to think about it. Finally I told Charlotte as much, then I hung up. The bed looked inviting with its silky spread and I stretched out on it, letting the robe fall open. I didn't know if Charlotte had gone crazy or sane, but the thought of Fred making love to Charlotte was very different from the concept of Lew making love to me. Lew looked like a man who knew what to do in bed. The thought gave me a fluttery feeling in the pit of my belly, and I could almost feel his hands on me. Shivering, I pulled my robe closed and tried to imagine Fred with Charlotte. I knew he thought she was attractive, and I also knew that certain things she did, like the way she incessantly tapped her fingernails, drove him up the walls. But I also knew he'd most likely adore making love to her.
"It was difficult to feel overly threatened, though, since Fred knew Charlotte so well that all the mystery and most of the romance would have to be gone even if they did a bed scene. It wouldn't be like his going off with some strange woman. . . . Charlotte wasn't creating problems out of air. I knew how passionate Fred could be, used to be, and how much he loved sex. It had to be the sameness which was affecting him, and what affected Fred, affected me. Was that why I'd noticed a slight depression lately, I'd wondered? Charlotte was right. It had been a long time since I'd had any good sex, and I was far too young to give it up.
"By the time Fred came home I'd done my hair and nails and carefully shaved my legs. I was slipping into a new, attractive dress with a dipping neckline and a figure-stressing cut. I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup when he came into the bedroom. He kissed my cheek vaguely, then took a second look.
"Hey, you look ready for a big night. Are we going out?"
"I nodded. T called you earlier, remember? Honestly, Fred, I don't think you listen to me half the time."
"Oh! We're having dinner at Lew's, right? Damn. I was hoping I'd get a chance to see that new TV show."
"I couldn't help smiling. "Oh, I don't think you'll be too bored.' It was funny, but now that I had had a few hours to think about it, I was more than a little excited at the whole idea. Somehow the thought of being with another man had never really come to my mind. At heart I was an old-fashioned girl who put aside such thoughts when I accepted my marriage ring. But I was beginning to see that times had changed and I hadn't. Charlotte was a sophisticated woman who wasn't afraid to try new things when she could see the old ones weren't doing a good enough job. Without her ideas and prodding I would have been willing to mindlessly let things progress to the point of such boredom that Fred would have found himself some excitement which had nothing to do with me, and that would have been that. This way, well, if I couldn't keep up with Fred at work, I sure could keep pace with him after work.
"The knowledge of what might happen was so exhilarating that it made me look and feel like a kid again. Fred kept looking at me as if I were crazy, but at least he was looking at me. That was one point ahead, already.
"Charlotte didn't look half bad, either, and I could swear Lew had taken a careful second shave since coming home. From the way his eyes touched mine during dinner I knew Charlotte had told him her idea, and it was pretty obvious he was all for it. His gaze followed me around the room, and I have to admit that it was flattering. Lew was not only a successful man, he was also quite attractive, with dark hair and eyes and the body of an athlete. He wore his suit well, and for the first time I found myself checking him out closely, wondering why I hadn't noticed how appealing he was before this.
"Dinner was delicious, and the maid served it and disappeared. I ate lightly, only enough to appease my hunger, and I drank a little more than usual. A sharp tension filled the room, and only Fred seemed his usual self. It seemed unreal to me that he didn't sense something different in the air, but he ate and talked shop as usual, and if he noticed that Charlotte was especially delicious herself, he didn't say anything.
"We had coffee and brandy in the playroom later, and Fred and Lew shot a game of pool while we watched. Even that was different. Lew kept asking me if I wanted to take his shot, a thing he'd never have done before, and Charlotte kept brushing up against Fred and raving about every good shot he made. The whole thing was so sexy, in an unspoken way, that I felt myself getting all hot and wet, and I kept finding my mind drifting off to images of myself in bed with Lew, and I wondered what he liked, and if he'd like my body. . . .
"It was Charlotte's show, all the way, and when she began to tease Fred about his long-ago promise to show her how to do a trick dive he knew, Lew and I encouraged Fred to teach her immediately. Lew even got him a pair of trunks so he'd be without an excuse. Fred changed and the two of them went out to the pool.
"Shouldn't we have gone with them?" I asked, smiling nervously at Lew. He seemed very big now that we were alone.
"Then what would have been the point in sending them away?" He took my drink and his and led me to the large plush couch. "I think this is a fine idea, April. I always did think Fred was the luckiest man I knew."
"He kissed me then, softly at first, getting me used to him, and then his lips closed more firmly over mine.
"I wasn't surprised at the strength of my reaction to his kisses. It had been a long time since I'd been this close to anyone other than my husband, and it had been a long time since Fred had made me feel this way. It was the newness, the strangeness of what we were doing, and I felt excited and like a teen-ager with her first man. When he began to play with my breasts over my dress I was glad I'd not had to wear a bra and that my nipples hardened so swiftly to his touch. I was feeling very sophisticated and daring, and I was far readier than I should have been from a few touches and kisses.
"I'm not insane for this couch bit. We'll leave it for them. Let's go get comfortable.' Lew stood up and pulled me to him. We kissed again, slowly and deeply, our tongues merging while our bodies stretched and pressed together, fitting themselves in preparation for what would soon happen. The crotch of my brief lacy panties dampened as if I'd sprung a leak somewhere.
"In spite of all the times I'd entered the bedroom in this house it was never like this. Everything looked new and strange, mostly because I'd always thought of it as Charlotte's bedroom, and now it was suddenly Lew's bedroom. "Where will they go?" I asked, thinking of them for the first time.
"He shrugged. "Probably over to your house. While the kids and the maid never wander around at night I doubt they'd want to stay out by the pool or use the couches or even the guest room which doesn't lock. Are you worried about it or them?"
"I giggled as he kissed the back of my neck while his fingers fumbled with the zipper. "No. Not really. I just.. . I just wondered if we were taking the best room. . . . "
"We sure are. Isn't it fun?" The zipper hissed open and my hands automatically flew up to keep the loosening dress in place. Gently but firmly he removed my hands. "Let me see, April. I've always been curious about those beautiful things."
"I sat still as he pushed my hands out of the way and eased my dress down to my waist. My breasts were full and very firm, and they stood sharply away from my ribs, shadowing them and making them even larger looking by contrast.
"Lew touched one of the large nipples and rolled it between his fingertips as if in awe. I felt a stab of pride, because no matter how beautiful Charlotte was, she didn't have a bust line which could hope to compete. His mouth closed over one immediately, even while his fingers were still tugging on the other. I love having my nipples sucked and nibbled, love it, go absolutely wild over it, and Lew was doing it so nicely that I just had to moan a little and let him know how much he was turning me on.
"He was instantly so turned on I couldn't believe it. After eight years of knowing Lew as Charlotte's husband and a friend of Fred's, it was disconcerting, to say the least, to see him turn into a lover. His sucking mouth was attacking my breasts furiously while one hand dropped to my leg. He shrugged the dress aside and slipped his hand over my smooth skin until his fingers were at the edge of my panties. While he pushed them aside at the crotch I got so excited I found my own hand on the hardening bulge under his fly. We rubbed each other and Lew began to tickle the fine hairs of my pussy with his fingertip.
"I was so worked up I could hardly breathe, and that was the moment when the bedroom door flew open and all hell broke loose. . . ."
Sigmund Freud once pointed out that "American men don't know how to make love.. . . American men step into marriage without the least experience for so complicated a business, and the ramifications of such ineptitude are often observed. No able Wall Streeter would think of investing in any stock without adequate preparation, yet the same man enters the vastly more complex institution of marriage with little more background or plan than a child.
Like Fred and Lew, he knows that his life will continue to be active and stimulating, and a consideration for the function of the wife is too often as limited and isolated as if she existed only to make life as comfortable as possible for her husband.
Due to his business success and the ease with which he moves through the world of commerce and his peers, this sort of husband is often very willing to be the silent or passive partner when it comes to his marriage. He is inadequately prepared for dealing with this part of his life, and he tends to allow others to set the pace and maintain the standards, which is why he is so frequently an ineffectual father to his children and a desirable consumer. He does as little as possible with the children and is happy to place the discipline and the responsibility on the wife and mother. He buys whatever the family next door appear to have, and if he can afford it, he rarely questions the necessity of these purchases. Women and their non-logical needs and desires confuse him and perhaps even frighten him somewhat, and he prefers to take an active stand in his business, where he understands the games and needs. Hendrik M. Ruitenbeek, in his book, The Male Myth, speaks of this passivity:
Frequently, when the male cannot maintain his preferred attitude of non-involvement, he tends either to retreat from women or to let them make the decisions.
In effect this is what Fred and Lew have allowed to happen with their wives. Their non-participation in their marriages and sex lives have left their wives frustrated and hostile. The wives recognize their resentment and, although attempting to excuse their mates, don't hesitate to take matters into their own hands. The women decide to broaden their sexual outlets in the hope of generating some sexual response, and, less close to the surface, they cleverly scheme to assure themselves of a little sexual gratification while they go about stimulating their husbands and preventing the possibilities of eventually losing their mates to other women.
A factor which gives their decision strength and a sort of legitimacy is provided by the swiftly changing sexual mores. Charlotte dares to suggest such a plan to the less sophisticated April because she knows that April is uncertain of what is required of her in present day society. She expresses this concern and confusion when she says:
"I was beginning to see that times had changed and I hadn't. Charlotte was a sophisticated woman who wasn't afraid to try new things when she could see the old ones weren't .doing a good enough job. Without her ideas and prodding. . . ."
April shows her passivity also when she admits that it was "Charlotte's show, all the way. . . . " But in spite of her noh-leadership she still thinks nothing of placing her unwitting husband in the swapping situation. The thought of alerting her husband to the situation and discovering his feelings never enter April's thoughts, not even when she assures Fred that he "won't be bored." She is more concerned with being up to date in her sexual and moral thought than with the feelings and desires of her husband. She is more than dimly aware of change, and she doesn't know what the current thought is and therefore must rely upon her friend. Her confusion is based on a real change in standards. Rollo May commented on this with this thought:
The Victorian nice man or woman was guilty if he or she did perform sexually; now we are guilty if we don't.
The key word here might be "nice." April thinks of herself as a nice young woman. It is doubtful that she would entertain the idea of mate-swapping in order to achieve her own gratification unless she could convince herself she was doing it for the larger reason of her husband's happiness and the stability of the marriage. In no way does she think of her participation as a form of adultery. And at no time does she concern herself with the possibility of her husband being less than pleased that she will have sexual relations with his friend and partner.
And, most unfortunately, because she is unable to consider her partner's true feelings and desires, she must also prove to be unwilling to take the necessary responsibility for her actions.
"Fred's face was mottled with purple, and for a moment I couldn't place it, as if he were some distortion of reality imposing itself on my sexual enjoyment. Then I saw myself with Lew from the doorway where Fred watched us, and suddenly everything was all wrong.
"The scene which followed was really quite subdued. There was no exchange of blows or even words. Fred simply suggested I get dressed, and we left quietly, my face red and my eyes unable to look at either Charlotte or Lew. I stayed quiet until we arrived at our own house. Then, like a dam which had been blocked too long, I exploded.
"My voice was loud and cold as I told Fred what we were up to, and why. He paled as I told him how Charlotte and I had discussed his lovemaking, and how we desperately came to the decision that it was time for a little change in our lives. I pointed out to him quite coldly how hopelessly old-fashioned he was, and how much of a fool he'd just made of himself.
"It was strange, but my rage at him pulled all the venom from his anger. It was really the first time we'd ever talked of anything resembling sexual problems we might have had, and I could tell he was listening. It seemed to especially disturb him that Charlotte would think that he was an inadequate male.
"She doesn't have it any better with Lew, she said. But at least they're mature enough and modern enough to recognize that they have a problem and are willing to do something about it. Not you! All you want is a TV set, a brandy and your golf clubs."
"By the time I'd run down Fred was very quiet. He looked a little confused, but his voice was firm when he spoke. "Call Charlotte and Lew and invite them over here tomorrow night, huh? I didn't like the idea of the kids being in the house, anyway.' He ran his fingers through his thinning sandy hair. "Then let's get to bed."
"Fred had a golfing date with some clients and was gone before I woke up, and I knew he would go out for some drinks and possibly round off the afternoon with a dip down at the club.
"I had a few things to do also, and I hurried through my chores, taking enough time off in my schedule to pop in at the health club for a quick sauna and cold shower. Charlotte was just on her way out the door as I got there, and she hesitated long enough to listen to my side of what had happened the night before. Then she told me that Fred had been totally oblivious to her advances until she decided to level with him, believing that he was holding back in concern for his best friend and wife.
"I thought he'd have a stroke! Honestly! When he got it through that attractive, thick head of his that you and Lew were quite possibly off in the bedroom. . . . He didn't even consider what a delightful time we might have been having. That man of yours is so terribly old-fashioned. . . ."
"Suddenly I felt just a bit protective and defensive. "Let's wait until tonight to see just who's old-fashioned, huh?"
"She grinned. "Nobody, I hope. You know, I'm looking forward to this."
"I made my favorite fondue, and it turned out to be a good choice. Whatever nervousness might have been there before, and whatever tension was still in the air about the night at Charlotte and Lew's house, gradually disappeared as we dunked and lost bits of french bread in the melted cheese. This time I wore a long hostess gown, and my mind kept slipping to thoughts of how easy it would be for Lew to get me out of it when the time came. He was very open in his admiration of my figure in the gown, and I couldn't help but notice that Fred was much more attentive during dinner, also. Not just to Charlotte, either. It was like he had come alive for the first time in a long time at home, and he looked at us when he talked, and he was quick to notice what was going on.
"I felt an inner glow of satisfaction. I could hardly wait for things to start.
"After dinner everyone got right down to business. Lew came over to me and put his arms around me. "Why don't you take me to see the garden or something, April, sweet?"
"I avoided his eyes as I nodded. We walked to the pool in the back. "Are we supposed to be the swimming team tonight?"
"Lew laughed. "Nope. Too many available bedrooms. Only this time I wanted to give my buddy a chance to get to bed first.' He kissed me. "Here, see what I still have for you?"
"I touched his pants uncertainly as the zipper was undone, and then I was closing my fingers over a huge, throbbing bar of hot flesh. I held his cock tightly as he kissed my neck, my ears, my mouth.
"My breasts drew his hands like magnets. He played with both as we kissed and tongued each other while I tugged on his prick. It felt so big and different, so unlike Fred's somehow.
"When he started working on the buttons of my gown, I suggested we find a better place. I was so anxious and hot to feel him against me naked, his big cock and balls free and pressing against my body. I wanted my nipples in his mouth and maybe my pussy, too, and I was even wondering how it would be to suck on that dick of his. . . . That was something I hadn't done to Fred for at least a year. . . .
"The house was dark and silent when we went in. I noticed the door to our most lavishly decorated guestroom was closed, though, and I could hear Charlotte's high-pitched giggle followed by a gasping command.
"Yes! Go ahead and lick it again! Yes!" Charlotte sounded like she was having the time of her life. I glanced at Lew to see what he thought, but he only grinned. I felt the heat rising through me as I imagined my Fred lapping and sucking on Charlotte's pussy. The fact was that my fuck-oriented husband would only do it for me once in a while, if he was a little high or if he was really trying to turn me on.
"Lew didn't give me much of a chance to dwell on my thoughts, though. He steered me to my own bedroom and firmly closed the door behind us. Then he began to get out of his clothing.
"I sat down and watched him undress, and I felt my excitement return as he shed his things. He was a tall, well-built man, and I couldn't help staring as he pulled off his pants. His cock was big, bigger than Fred's, and I had the flash that he'd be doing a lot of pussy licking if he wanted to completely satisfy Charlotte. His balls were also huge, and they bumped against his body as he came over to the bed. "Now let's take care of you, April."
"I sat perfectly still as he worked on my buttons, and this time he resisted the urge to play with my tits until he had me completely naked. I wore only bikini panties under the gown, and he skimmed them off me while I raised my hips but otherwise stayed still. He pushed me back on the bed.
"You're perfection, April. I love those big tits of yours. I thought they would sag a little, but I've never been more wrong. God, I love sucking on them!"
"Don't let me stop you," I breathed thickly. It was unbearably exciting to be in bed with a man, both naked and free, even of guilt.
"His mouth covered a nipple hotly, and he began to suck on it while his other hand got busy with its twin. He made little noises in his throat, and soon I was making noises of my own. I felt the juices begin to run in my cunt and I wanted his hand down there. I wanted his hands everywhere. I didn't remember being this hot since I was a kid, or since my honeymoon.
"I reached for his cock and began to play with it just as he released one hard nipple and dove down on the other one. "Touch my balls. Squeeze them a little. That's it. Yes, just like that."
"With one hand I fondled his big hairy balls, and with the other I held his dick. He worked on my tits and strained his body against mine, and we were all over the bed, touching, kissing, loving. Finally Lew's hand touched my cunt. He rubbed it and spread his fingers, forcing the little lips open. My clitoris seemed to leap out at his fingers, and he began to squeeze and massage it as we kissed and tongued each other's mouths.
"Before long Lew pulled away from me and reversed himself over my body. His cock was very hard, so hard that little veins stood out along the shaft and a drop of milky fluid trembled on the head. He pushed his dick against my lips. Taking a breath I opened my mouth and sucked him into me. At that moment I felt his face bury itself against my slit, and he began licking my clitoris.
"I've always loved getting my pussy licked. Fred used to do it a lot when we were dating, and I'd had a boy friend before who used to have his orgasm only when he was licking a girl's cunt. But I'd been treated to this act less and less in the past several years. It was as if Fred, having wooed and won me, no longer had to concern himself with my desires.
"Lew knew what he was doing. He licked me for a minute or so, then he hooked a finger into my hole while he worked on my clitoris. I was out of my mind with ecstasy, and I knew I was very close to having my orgasm. Usually I just had one, and sometimes two, and I didn't want this to be over soon. I wanted it to last and last. For all I knew this would never happen again, and I wanted to make the most of it. Then Lew slid his broad thumb in my asshole and that was it. All mind was gone and I was coming, and he had to hold me tightly to keep from losing his hold on my pussy and asshole. I nearly choked on his cock and had to pull my mouth away as the spasms caught me, but, moaning and mumbling my happiness, I went back to licking and sucking it as soon as I could.
"I ran my tongue all the way up and down its towering shaft, then lapped hotly at his balls. He seemed to like it so I gently took one of the fleshy eggs into my mouth, sucking it lightly and wetting all the curling hairs with the tip of my tongue. His cock was so hard after that that I was sure my sucking would make him spill over. But he held out, and I was able to give him the best cock-sucking I knew how to give. Before long I was hot all over again, and when he broke away and repositioned himself on top of me I gladly spread my legs and helped him find the entrance to my womb.
"His cock felt even bigger than it looked, but
I was more than ready for it. I arched my back and brought my knees to my breasts so that he could have as clear and welcoming a target as possible. "Oh, just fuck me, Lew," I whispered into his ear. "Just shove that big thing all the way inside me. . . ."
"I'm going to fuck you so hard, honey, that your pretty teeth will rattle. I'm going to fuck that sweet little . . . there . . . ooh . . . so tight . . . so fucking tight. . . ." He began to drive his cock all the way into my hole while I moaned with pleasure.
"My arms went up around his neck and my heels locked behind his back, and I swayed and rolled my hips as he swung his dick in and out of me. I couldn't help but compare this with the last few times Fred had fucked me. He had fed his cock to me so methodically and mechanically that I'd had difficulty keeping awake until he came. It was hard for me to realize that these exciting thrusts were more like the way Fred had always been. And perhaps, after tonight, he, too would remember, and we could have so much more of this.
"April. . . . God, I love your tight little cunt. . . . It's so hot and wet and good. I'm going to pump you full of come, baby. . . ." Lew began to move faster, and I could hear the sound of his big balls slapping against my ass.
"I tried to match his increased speed, and for a while we were gasping and moaning with the pleasure of our frantic attempt to match tempos. I was so hot by that time I was rubbing my titties against his chest and shooting my hot tongue in and out of his ear, and my ass was racing to join him in his orgasm.
"That little cunt of yours is milking the juice right out of my balls," Lew sighed, his hands tightening over my breasts as he jerked his hips for the final time. Then he sagged and groaned as his hot come spurted into my cunt, and I had to hold still for him, even though my own orgasm was only moments and a move or two away.
"Lew was sensitive enough to know what had happened, though, and, as soon as he relaxed, he began to finger-fuck me while his mouth teased and sucked my nipples. It didn't take long. Just as he was forcing a third finger in me I began to come, and he kept up the thrusting motions until I was all over it.
"I fell asleep after Lew left, and I don't know how long I slept before Fred woke me up.
"Come on, honey. Let's go to our bed. It's late.' He was naked, and I was so thoroughly out that he had to nearly carry me to get to bed again. He smelled clean and soapy, and I could see his hair was curling as it always did after a shower.
"I woke up a little on the walk to the bedroom. "Well?" Suddenly the fact that Fred had made love to my best friend dawned on me. I couldn't help but be curious.
"Well? You mean Charlotte?"
"No," I said sarcastically, "I mean some other woman. Of course Charlotte."
"He kissed me softly. "It was fine. Great. A hell of a lot of fun.' He kissed the corner of my mouth. "I thought I'd had enough sex for a month. But you know something, suddenly I'm hot again. I want you, April."
"I looked at him in surprise. Seeing that he was perfectly serious, I moved away. "I'll be out in a minute."
"I soaped completely and closed my eyes under the hot spray of the shower, and I marveled at the abrupt increase of my husband's sexual drive. But mixed in with the pleasure was a little concern. Would I seem as good to him now that he'd had Charlotte? Would he seem as wonderful to me, now that I'd been thoroughly filled with Lew's larger cock? What if we didn't feel much of anything following such exciting sex? How could I measure up to an untired Charlotte?
"I made the shower last as long as possible, letting the water run over me until it turned icy-cold. Then I spent a considerable time toweling myself dry and brushing my hair so that it wouldn't get frizzy. It was all a stall, though, and I knew it. The questions plagued me, and I think I hoped that if I just managed to take long enough Fred would fall asleep and I wouldn't feel so challenged.
"He was still very much awake when I returned to the bedroom, though.
"I thought you got lost or fell back asleep in there. I was just about to call the rescue squad. Look what I've got for you, all warmed up and ready.' He flipped the sheet back and exposed his rigid cock. "It feels like it won't go down all night."
"With a sinking heart I got into bed. I felt anything but sexual. In fact, I felt uneasy and uncomfortable, a way I'd never felt with Fred before.
"He felt it at once, which was especially strange since he'd been all but oblivious to me for months. Again I felt that peculiar mixture of pleasure and concern. If Charlotte had taught him to be more aware, would it only last with her? Would I put those feelings back to sleep again?
"What's the matter, April?" He studied me a moment. I noticed his cock beginning to wilt a little. "Now that it's over don't tell me you're upset about what happened. Are you?"
"I shrugged and tried to explain. He ended up laughing at me.
"You're a funny little chick," he said, grinning. "If what you're worrying about was real, it still would be unimportant. Sure, I've been a little inconsiderate and unaware lately, and maybe it's true that doing the same thing with the same woman makes a man take the whole thing for granted, or even lose a little interest. But you and Charlotte sure woke me up, and now it's you I want.' His smile died. "Unless, of course, what you're really upset about is that I'm not Lew.. . ."
"Then it was my turn to smile. "Lew was fine, but you're a tough act to follow.' Suddenly I wanted to prove it. I kissed him hard.
"We did it nice and slow and easy, unhurried and sweetly, like we used to do it when we'd been married only a year or two. I began by sucking his prick, and doing it and hearing his sounds of pleasure made me realize that there was much I hadn't done for him, though I'd only thought of the things he hadn't done for me. Remembering Lew, I broadened my tongue and lapped at Fred's baljs before wetting his cock in my mouth. He moaned, and his hands went to my back and down over the curves of my ass. Slowly he began to play with the soft mounds, parting them and pressing them together, producing erotic feelings in my anal area which culminated with his shoving a wettened finger up my ass. This was something new, something he must have learned from Charlotte, and it felt so damn good that I was glad she had been there to teach him.
"We stayed like that for a while, me sucking on his cock and licking his balls, and him slowly ramming a finger in and out of my asshole. I was careful not to let him come, and after a while he pushed me back on the bed, got down on his knees, pulled me half off the mattress so that my cunt was on a level with his mouth, and then he began to lick it.
"In all the other times he'd done this to me it had always been somehow for my pleasure alone. But this time was different. This time I was getting licked because Fred wanted my cunt in his mouth. It was obvious not only from the way his cock throbbed as he ate me, but from the way he was doing it, slowly and lovingly, and as if he never wanted to stop. He did it so good I started to come, and my coming excited him to such a pitch that he went wild in my cunt. I had to pry his mouth off my pussy in order to make him stop sucking the tender flesh, and then he obeyed only long enough to fit his body to mine.
"His cock was frantic in my cunt. He had one of those big hard ons which never seemed to be able to ease off, and I made the most of it. I arched my back so that he could suck my nipples, and I met him stroke for stroke. But he didn't begin to shoot his hot come into me until I dropped my hand to his ass and experimentally dipped a finger into his narrow hole. He reacted to that by crying out and lunging into me, his creamy load shooting deeply into my cunt. I joined him for that final orgasm, and both of us almost passed out from the beauty of that come.
"Before I fell asleep I nudged my husband. "I guess that was a pretty good thing, huh. With Charlotte and Lew I mean."
"He was almost asleep. "Huh? Sure. I guess.' He rolled over. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. It's almost morning."
"But I couldn't sleep. Not until I found out one thing. "Then you'd be all for repeating it sometime soon?"
"After a long silence Fred finally answered. "I'd really rather not. I think it was a good thing, but I don't know that we should go around making it a habit."
"I breathed a long sigh of relief. After all, we really weren't the wife-swapping type. I threw him a kiss and turned over.
"Not right away, anyhow," he added, half-asleep.
"I was ready to accept that, but I made a mental note to see to it that there would never again be a need for another dose of marital adrenalin."
In the aftermath of their first swapping experience this couple came to the realization that involvement doesn't always stop after the sexual contact is over. April discovered in herself the seeds of jealousy and a fear that perhaps she had manipulated her husband and herself into a situation from which she could never retrieve her marriage intact.
For Fred there was a new awareness of his responsibility in the sexual act, and a rekindling of his sexual interest. Since he feels the constant stimulation of extramarital sex is unnecessary and his wife appears content with a revitalized sexual partner in the form of her husband, there is every reason to suspect that a monogamous relationship will be mutually gratifying in this case.
CHAPTER TWO - Two Day Rally
" What a fantastic day! I cannot believe how beautifully B-played into my hands! It isn't the money, Julie-not that it's anything to look down on, either. But it's just getting that old bastard, that terror of the Street, by the balls! Whoops, Julie, delete that one. Listen, tell you what. . . . What do you say we call it a day, and the two of us get some dinner and make an evening of it? How about it?"
"His enthusiasm was infectious, but I didn't need any extra stimulation. It was like an answer to my dreams. For months I'd been daydreaming about Don's saying something very like this, inviting me out, wanting to include me in his plans.
"We had gone out fairly regularly the first year I'd come to work at K----, B----, and G----. Don B---- was one of the younger and certainly most eligible men on Wall Street, and I'd been madly attracted to him from the start. Not that I'm in his league. I'm just a reasonably bright girl from Bayside, Long Island, who would like to stay in good with the boss.
"After that first year Don got involved with some society bitch from Maine, a cold bitch who wanted Don as much for his name as his pretty blue eyes, or the soul in that handsome body. She wasn't at all hip, and I was, but that's the closest I'll ever get to being one up on her. She had money and a name that meant something, and the most I could hope for with Don was a real nice time. But I'm young, and that's fine with me.
"When Miss Richbitch and Don finally broke up-and I swear he never got so much as a whiff of it-he was pretty much at loose ends for a while. I kept hoping he'd ask me out, but he didn't, and then he had some kind of reconciliation with the bitch, and as that turned out to be an on-again-off-again relationship I didn't even entertain thoughts or dreams about seeing Don outside the office.
"Sometimes, when I'd be out with another guy, I'd think of Don. What I really wanted was to get to that place with him where we could have a good time regularly for a long, long time. I wasn't one of those dreamers who once read Cinderella or Snow White, and really believed that when my prince rode by he'd be loaded with gold. I didn't even expect the prince, unless he was looking for a little loving while he was waiting for a princess to show up. But that was all right. That was just fine. And Don was a prince, though he also happened to be a shrewd and powerful man on the Street. I just wanted a little piece of him for myself.
"I've always been one to size up myself, and others, honestly and unemotionally. Like I knew where I measured up and where I didn't. My looks were fine, so that was a plus. I have big brown eyes and long blonde hair and my figure is really nice. I look like I enjoy my sex, which I do, and that makes people pick up sexy vibes just looking at me. But I can handle myself nice. If I couldn't, I would never have made it with this organization. They were one of the oldest and most respectable on the Street.
"Don had a taste of that respectability in him, too, and it was there we clashed the most while, at the same time, where we somehow had the most fun from the other. He was the only guy I ever went with who was such a square, in so many ways, and I was nothing like those dainty, subdued, straight chicks Don dated. It had even taken some sneaking around to get to wear my hair loose, and when I'd first applied for the job I'd worn a brown afro. The job had been contingent on my changing my hair style before anyone saw me.
"Don wore suits and his hair was pretty short, though he was wearing his sideburns on the long side, which had lately become popular with the swinging Wall Street set. Actually, that avenue of arch respectability was undergoing some pretty trippy changes, though our firm remained blissfully out of things. But my friend Barbara over at L----, L---- and V---- kept telling me about how her bosses and their wives were so busy swinging, the running of the Street was left up to the hired help.
"That wasn't all I'd heard about a new style of fun and games. The rich and near rich of Wall Street all seemed caught up in some updated version of wife-swapping. Really! It had hit the Street like magic, and everyone was throwing swinging parties and swapping wives with everyone else. Frieda, the girl from an outfit next door, had been invited to a party to fill in for a missing wife. She had had a ball.
"Now you know how I am about sex, Julie. The more the better, right? Never enough, right?" She rolled her large, green eyes. "Well, I think I've finally had my fill of it. That party turned out to be an orgy. Call it what you will, but it dissolved into an orgy, and absolutely everyone let their hair down! There was more fucking and sucking going on there than anywhere outside of Rome in the good old days."
"Finally my curiosity couldn't stand it, and when I had a chance to attend one of these balls, I took it. I went with middle-aged, pot-bellied Mr. G---- from Frieda's place. He'd asked Frieda, but she was doing something else, so I went instead. Ordinarily I would never have dated Mr.
G----. He's too old and not very exciting, but I did want to see what was going on. Mrs. G---- probably never got the chance to decline the invitation. She probably had no idea her husband and his associates had a new sport for times when they couldn't play golf.
"It turned out to be more of a cocktail party than the orgy my friend had suggested, and the thing was that each female would get a dyed carnation on entering the party, each dyed a different color, and each male would get its twin. Then flower was to find flower, and you were supposed to go out to dinner and whatever with your flower friend. It gave me a laugh, since these cosmopolitan Wall Streeters were far from flower children with love power. But I ended up with a much better date than I'd started out with, so I didn't have much room for complaint.
"Allen had obviously been going to these parties for a few months. He looked pleased to have drawn me, and he gave me a choice of a dozen fine places to eat at first. I picked one I'd always wanted to see, and we had a nice dinner. Allen was handsome and almost as young as Don, and he spoke glibly of his marriage and his wife.
"We're very compatible, actually, and we have two children, boys. The only thing we were suffering from was sexual boredom. Now, with the parties, all that's over with. Oh, I'd tried an affair or two, and Nicole had a lover. Her doctor, actually. But it wasn't good. I'd feel guilty and drink too much, and Nicole would go on these crying jags, over my infidelities and hers, too.
"Then one of my associates told me about the parties, and I talked to Nicole about it. She was all for it. Now we go out about once every other week, have a wonderful evening with someone new, and we get along a lot better."
"I was glad the story was about over. I was getting curious about the other part of it, the sex part.
"We went to my apartment and it was great. Allen had a great deal of energy for me, and he wasn't in a hurry. I noticed that there was also none of the rushed beginning part, when the guy didn't know how far you were going to let him go. Allen knew the evening was his, and he had no reason to be concerned, "He wanted to take a shower, and meanwhile I put on some music and got into a comfortable velour robe. When Allen came out he pulled me onto his lap and kissed me.
"I'm essentially an ass man myself," he confided, kissing my neck. "But some girls don't go for it. So to save time and energy I believe in being right out front about likes and dislikes."
"He was sexy. I liked the way his hands moved over my body as he talked and kissed me. "If there's anything I haven't tried, it's probably because no one's suggested it. I like it all, especially fucking," I teased. "Any kind of fucking. Mouth, cunt or ass. I'm a very horny girl. . . . All over."
"It was obvious Allen liked my openness. My out-front language turned him on. That was one thing he probably wasn't used to hearing from the wives of his associates. "You're a pretty girl-all over."
"I'm not exactly heart-broken that I ended up with you, either.' I kissed him again and let my tongue play in his mouth. Since he claimed to be an ass man I mischievously began rolling and grinding mine against his lap. He loved it. I could feel his hardening cock under the towel he'd worn out of the bathroom.
"Let's get naked, Julie. Where's the bedroom?"
"I laughed and got up. "This is it, lover. On my salary I'd be lucky to have a broom closet in this neighborhood.' Converting the couch to a bed meant removing a few pillows and the cover. The bed itself was on the tight side for two people, but all the better. Allen started pulling the clothing off of me while I was fixing the bed.
"He really was an ass man. The first thing he went for was my skirt. He pulled it off and busied his hands on the jutting globes of my ass through my panties. Then he let one hand slip between my legs. By that time I'd finished with the bed and turned around to give Allen my full attention.
"The towel was on the floor, and I was glad to see that Allen was well-hung. I go for that. I love to know I've got something inside me when I'm fucking. That's another thing about Don.
"Anyway, Allen was beautiful naked, and I got busy removing the rest of my things. I've got a good body and I like to have it admired, so I always enjoyed undressing for a new man. Allen didn't take his eyes off me, either. I'm a soft pink all over, and I have very round tits which are topped by cherry red nipples. I have a small waist and nice hips, and since Allen was an ass man, I knew he was happy to have found me. If anything, I'm a little too full back there, though I never had a complaint from men about it.
"We kissed again, our tongues working like crazy, our hands all over each other. I was a girl who had to have a regular sex life, and I hadn't had a man in a month. To me that was more like six months, and I was hot to do it. So was Allen, by the size of his erection.
"Because the bed didn't offer a lot of room, Allen stretched me out on it while he sank to his knees on the rug next to me. Then he began to kiss and tongue my body all over. He sucked each nipple briefly, then licked the undersides of my globular breasts. I liked it so much that I was almost sorry to see him move down my body.
He worked quickly, touching and tonguing and teasing as much of me as he could in as short a time as possible. He kissed all the way down my long legs, tonguing the hairy mound of my cunt just as briefly as the rest of me. I felt a wave of disappointment, because if there's one thing I love above anything else sexual, it's getting my pussy licked. I'd even considered shaving there because I was so thickly haired, but enough men were wild for the jungle down there to make me decide to leave it as it was.
"I had nothing to worry about, though. Allen sucked each pink toe-which no one had ever done before but I afterwards hoped it would happen again-and began to kiss and lick his way up my legs. He slowed down a little then, and I really started getting hot. My legs began to spread apart as he edged up closer to my pussy. Then he was, on me, his hands pushing aside the folds of flesh and the thick forest of hairs, and his tongue was lapping wildly over my clit, and I was going just as wild. It was sensational, and I started humping it into his face, wishing he could get his whole head in there.
"His hands reached down and grabbed my ankles. Slowly and sensually he lifted them into the air, pressing them towards my breasts and belly. Meanwhile he licked and sucked on me, deserting my clitty only to dig his tongue into my slit. He used a nice, sucking motion over my entire clit at one point which nearly made me come. But he stopped almost immediately and tongue-fucked me instead.
"By the time he had my ankles firmly up against my tits I was going wild and on the verge of my orgasm. I moaned hotly as Allen's mouth began to drift downwards. He kept his tongue slightly extended, like the rudder of a ship, licking its way up to my wide-spread ass and my asshole, which was nearly painfully spread from the position he had me in.
"Then his tongue really went to work on me. He licked the crack of my ass like he'd never be able to get enough of it, and then he used his pointed tongue tip on the small opening, working it into me like it was a tiny cock. It was obvious that he liked what he was doing. He got so carried away that he began to beat his cock while he was licking my asshole, and I got so worried that he'd come that way and be finished that I pushed his face away from my ass, even though it felt wonderful.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Allen?" I asked, pulling him up and over me.
"Don't I though, you sweet little cunt, you.' He tousled my hair affectionately and began twisting me around so that I ended up on my knees with my head and tits against the mattress and my ass up in the air. I thought he was going to shove his dick up my ass, and I wanted to tell him I had some K-Y lubricating cream in the little table next to the bed, but instead he began to sink it into my cunt.
"Damn, it felt good! He had a nice, blunt-headed cock, the kind which didn't sink in so gradually that a girl hardly knew when the man was inside her. Allen's dick you could feel going in, and since he had me in this position and was holding me so tightly that I couldn't move away, I just closed my eyes and enjoyed every stroke. I come quickly once something gets in there, and I don't make such a big fuss about coming unless I want the guy to get more turned on, so I just pursed my lips into a soft 'ooh' and came. I shuddered a little, sighed, and began to work my way up to a second come. Honestly, it was one of the nicest fucks, really, that I'd ever had.
"I came twice more while Allen slowly and kind of sweetly fucked my cunt, and then, when I could feel that he was getting more and more excited, he withdrew his cock and there was a moment when I felt nothing. Then he pressed it to the opening of my ass, and I was glad he was so wet from my cunt.
"He swung his hips forward firmly, and I relaxed the muscles in my asshole to make it as easy as possible for both of us. He began to push into me, and though there was some pain, I'd done this before and I knew that the pain would soon fade away and all I'd feel would be pure, undiluted pleasure.
"He worked into me slowly, and the heavy breathing coming from him and the sounds he was making and the way his hands were all over me told me that this really was his thing. He loved the feeling of slipping into a girl's tight asshole.
"God, Julie, you're so tight . . . so beautiful . . . I love this, baby. . . ." He grabbed handfuls of my titties, then released one hand and brought it to my cunt. His finger found my clitty and he began to work on it. That made me squirm a little, lifting my ass and impaling myself more deeply on his rod. His cock was so big up my asshole I moaned a little from being stretched so much, but it was also beginning to feel so good. . . .
"That's it! Love it, Julie," Allen urged excitedly. "I get so fucking hot when the girl loves it too. . . ." He shoved the last inch into me and jerked a little from the extreme pleasure he was experiencing.
"I do," I told him honestly. "It feels so good, honey . . . pull it out and shove it all the way back inside me. Go ahead. . . ."
"He did. He humped his cock in and out of me like he'd never stop, and he was hip enough to keep his fingers working on my clitty at the same time. I knew he was going to come first, then I realized I was going to join him. "Fuck me . . . play with my cunt . . . I'm going to come with you, Allen. . . . Fuck the living shit out of me, honey. . . ."
"My encouragement got to him. He slammed in and out of me so hard I wasn't sure my asshole would ever be good for anything again, but far from caring, it only prompted my orgasm more.
"Now," I sobbed into the pillow, because this was one orgasm I didn't want to be quiet about. Also I'd had some experience with ass fucking, and it's fine as long as you're hot. But once you've come, it's pure agony somehow, and the trick definitely was to get the man to come with you at the same time. "Come with me, Allen. Shoot your load into my asshole now! I'm coming, baby. That big cock of yours is making me come. . . ."
"That did it for him. Any shred of self-control he'd been clinging to was rapidly washing away. He thrust his prick halfway to my tonsils and rubbed my clit frantically, and then he was shooting into me like he was going to empty his balls completely. I dissolved into the mattress as I came, and it felt so good I could hardly stand it either.
"After Allen had left I got to wondering how Don would like to take part in the swinging parties some of his friends were enjoying. After all, I'd made love to him several times, and apparently that wasn't quite enough to keep his interest. But since he loved it when I'd do something or show him something that was especially far out, I got to wondering if turning him on to swinging parties would make him pay a little more attention to me. . . ."
An enterprising young woman, Julie quickly sees how she might utilize the new swapping scene in order to make points with her boss-lover. Her own sex life is not in need of rejuvenation, but she is happy to grab at any straw to further her image of being "far-out," which is obviously how she regards the mate-swapping craze.
Betty Friedan, in her book The Feminine Mystique, devotes an entire chapter to sexually aggressive women, whom she calls "the sex seekers." She describes an increase of sexual aggressiveness in American women, and places some of the reason for this on the fearful decline of the male-the castrated male whom many authorities feel have taken a step backwards and allowed their women to control their sexual lives, like April and Charlotte in the first case study. As an aggressive female, Julie typically thinks of sex as the means to tighten her hold on her boss, and she never thinks in terms of becoming the sole woman in his life, and certainly not the love object. Love, indeed, becomes a never-considered emotion, until, as in most swapping arrangements, sex is thoroughly depersonalized. Julie doesn't think of her date of the evening, Allen, as a desirable mate because of his personality, consideration or position in society. He is acceptable because he is the possessor of a large penis.
Julie believes herself to be a normal, well-adjusted woman of her times. She is outspoken about her sexual needs and has no need for euphemisms to mask the various acts in which she engages, and yet there is no thought that her image of herself as a sex-seeker, or her inability to think in terms of love, is unhealthy. Betty Friedan commented that:
Contrary to the feminine mystique, sexual satisfaction is not necessarily a mark of fulfillment, in woman or man.
Erich Fromm adds:
Often psychoanalysts see patients whose abilities to love and so be close to others is damaged and yet who function very well sexually and indeed make sexual satisfaction a substitute for love because their sexual potency is their only power in which they have confidence.
Julie is such a young woman, and it is not remarkable that she happens across swapping as a means to further her sexual activities. She believes that her interest in the swap parties is exclusively to further her position with her employer, but in actuality swapping is a means whereby she can continue her relationship with a man who threatens to be important to her, and keep it depersonalized to the point of mechanization. She will excite Don by presenting him with other women effortlessly, and when she has sex with the mates of the women she, in effect, gives to him, she is free to enjoy those men as "safe" substitutes for Don. It is all neat, packaged and palatable, and keeps things at a comfortable status quo.
On Don's side he is a likely candidate for swapping, himself. As a young member of a very respectable, established firm, Don cannot indulge his taste for the bizarre, the trait he most enjoys in Julie. But others in his position are engaging in varied sexual encounters, and Julie knows this fact will make an enormous difference in Don's acceptance of a sexual game he would anyways enjoy. Don happens not to be married, though he must be paired off in order to participate in swapping, but it is doubtful that his marital status has much to do with his susceptibility to swapping. Swapping offers a man like Don an opportunity to indulge all of his sexual fantasies with a minimum of effort or inconvenience. For men like himself sexual desire and marriage are not necessarily the same package, though legal, social and moral pressure may mask it as such. Havelock Ellis writes:
It would seem that most persons . . . are monogamic and poly-erotic. That is to say they only desire one permanent marriage, but they do not find that that relationship stands in the way of sexual attraction to one or more persons, though the attraction thus aroused may be felt to be of a different nature to that experienced for the permanent partner, and it may prove quite possible to hold such attractions . . . in control.
Don would seem to fall into this category; the fact is that he was not available to Julie during the period when he was attempting to solidify his relationship with a possible marital partner (the girl Julie referred to as "Miss Richbitch") only because the more important union held his attention. In the ordinary course of things, Don could marry and remain a faithful husband, though it is likely he would be merely controlling his desire for varied sexual experience. But with the introduction of wife-swapping to his world, an older, settled Don might well be as willing as the younger, unencumbered Don, simply because this would afford him a gratifying sensual experience without risk or condemnation. Another possibility is that the married Don would prefer to emulate Julie's original date for the swinging party, Mr. G-, who happily joined the swapping games while keeping knowledge of them from his wife. Utilizing what remains of the double-standard, men in Don and Mr. G-'s position seem free to indulge their own whimsy while still conforming to the rules of those more important to them in society-their peers.
"I'd just about planned to ask Don if he wanted to be my date at one of the swinging parties anyway, and when he invited me out for a night on the town I knew this was my perfect chance.
"We had dinner first, and, as always, success gave Don a terrific appetite. I ordered a steak and salad and passed even on the rolls, but Don had shrimp, salad and a lobster tail with his steak, and afterwards he insisted we go across town to a little Italian pastry shop he liked for coffee and cannoli. Finally full and comfortable in a plush bar with an after dinner drink in his hand, he asked me what I'd like to do for the rest of the evening.
"That was my opener. "Like to try something new ? ' I asked him if he heard anything about the mate swapping that was going on around us. He listened, fascinated, and I made sure to touch him often as I went into elaborate details about what was going on.
"It turned out that I happened to know where a party was going on that night, and Don's eyes opened wide as he realized that he had been invited to that same party.
"But no one said it was that kind of a party!" he laughed. -
"It's gotten to be such a going thing that they i probably point out the fact when it's not that kind of a party.' I added that as a final encouragement. Don was so stuffy that way. As long as he was absolutely certain that everyone was doing something, he was up for going along with the trend. I have no idea why he was just the opposite in business.
"This was a big party. I recognized most of the people present, and I couldn't help wondering how they arranged the swapping part of the entertainment. The large Park Avenue apartment couldn't have had more than three bedrooms, so it wouldn't be one of those in-house parties.
"I was mistaken. Including the servant's quarters there were four bedrooms and a large den, and it was an unstructured party as far as the sex went. The men got to choose their partners, arranging a swap with the date or husband of the woman they wanted to make it with. I looked around at the gathered females and wondered who would be Don's choice.
"There was no chance to find out, though. I guess it's a tribute to me to say that we hadn't been at the party long enough to get a drink before a very attractive man came up to Don and began to talk to him. At first I thought it was a business contact or a friend, but then I noticed the way both men looked at me. I smiled at them, and then the man nodded in the direction of a striking dark haired girl with large gray eyes and a luscious figure under a simple black dress. "After a moment more of talk, both men came over to me. "Julie, this is Ronald B--. Ron, the lovely Julie.' He smiled at me. "I'll see you a little later, okay?" His eyes did a poor job of masking his excitement, though his voice was calm enough.
"I looked up at Ron. "That was so quick I didn't even get a drink.' "I think we can fix that right away.' He ade a mock bow and went to the bar. He returned with two glasses. We talked a little as we drank, and I watched Don drink and talk with Ron's pretty wife. Ron also kept looking at them, and finally I guessed that this was their first swinging party.
"He admitted it was. "Sex has gotten to be . . . well, dull between us. Oh, there's nothing wrong with my wife, and she insists I'm not to blame, either, but you know how it is-it just gets boring. We talked about accepting one of the invitations we kept getting, but we kept chickening out. Actually it was Rita who insisted we come tonight. Now I'm glad."
"I grinned back and finished the drink. "Shall we take a little walk around this mausoleum?" he suggested, obviously eager to get on with it now that he was here. "We walked out of the main room and through a hallway. I kind of liked the idea that this joker was new at the game. I wouldn't mind doing a little leading.
"But all of the bedrooms and even the den were occupied, so we began to kiss and touch a little in the hallway. It was kind of nice, and I felt a very promising bulge in Ron's pants. His mouth was rough, demanding, and I let him tongue mine for a while before suggesting we go back to the party and wait our turn with a fortifying drink. But before I could say anything an older man with very white hair and a cute little blonde came out of one of the bedrooms. She was adjusting her dress and fluffing her hair, and Don nodded to them and pulled me towards the free bedroom.
"Even with the door closed the sounds of the party filtered into the tastefully decorated bedroom. Like most new buildings the walls were on the thin side, and we could hear the tense voice of a man in an adjoining bedroom who was curtly urging someone to do something to him 'a little lower. . . ."
"Ron was really in a hurry. He pulled me to him and began a kiss which lasted until we were both stretched out on the king-sized bed. His hands were all over me.
"Wait, Ron! Hold it a second. What say we get out of our clothing before you rip something, huh?" I pushed him away, laughing at his urgency.
"He got up so that I could get undressed, and I really started to get hot from the way he was looking at me. I thought he'd run his tongue over his lips in anticipation, and it occurred to me that this guy was more than just a little bored.
"After I was naked I went over to him and went to work on his shirt. "Gonna make little Julie do all the work?" I asked kittenishly.
"He shook his head, dazed. "Don't mind me," he laughed finally. "It's just been so damn long since I've been with another woman. . . ."
"I watched him throw off his shirt and tie and slip out of his pants and shorts. He was hung nicely, as I'd suspected from our earlier playing in the hall. "Listen, Ron, whatever you want to do is fine with me, you know? Whatever you like best. I dig it all."
"He looked at me uncertainly. "Anything?"
"You name it," I teased, coming over to him and grasping his cock and balls with both hands.
"I like mouth sex," he said boldly, daringly, as if it were something no nice man would say.
"Good," I breathed, running one of my hands over his back as I pressed my body against him tightly enough so that he would feel my hardening nipples dig into his chest. "So do I. . . ."
"We got on the bed together, and I began to kiss my way down Ron's pale and golden haired body. His dick was nearly hard and it looked very clean and pink, and I played with it as I lightly sucked his tiny nipples and nibbled on the tender flesh along his side. He loved what I was doing with him, and his hand seemed to be having a problem trying not to force my head right down on his cock.
"I got there finally, and I licked the head before taking it into my mouth. God, he loved being sucked! I've been with a lot of men, but I've never known one who loved being blown as much as Ron. He worked his fingers through my hair and moaned and crooned as I expertly used my lips and teeth and tongue to work on his dick.
"Ooh . . . yes . . . do it harder . . . God . . . don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop. . . ." he pleaded, humping his ass so that I'd suck a little more of it into my mouth.
"I wouldn't have minded going on with it for a good while longer, but I was afraid to make him come this quickly. Not without my getting anything out of it. So I stopped just long enough to climb over him completely, straddling him so that my cunt was directly over his handsome face. Then I began to suck his big cock again, and a moment later I felt him beginning to nuzzle my cunt with his soft lips.
"He was an inexperienced cunt-lapper, and I knew my earlier suspicions were correct. It wasn't just boredom which was the thorn in Ron's sex life. I was willing to bet anything his pretty wife didn't let him eat her very often, if at all. I made a mental note to ask Don about it later.
"Ron might have been inexperienced, however, but he sure loved it. He used his hands to open me up, and then his entire center of interest shifted from my mouthing of his cock to his licking of my cunt. His lashing tongue roamed crazily over my gaping inner lips. I lifted my hips, directing his mouth to my aching clitoris. I could feel his soft tongue glide over it and I tightened my thighs on either side of his head. I began to suck on his cock then like it was some big juicy lollypop I couldn't get enough of, and the better he ate my cunt, the more fiercely I sucked his dick. It was throbbing like mad in my mouth at that point, and I played with his swollen balls as I sucked him.
"What we were doing seemed to be such a rare treat for Ron that it made me really want to do it up right. I let my hand fall from his balls and I wedged a finger between the lean cheeks of his ass. I found his asshole easily enough, and from the way he jumped as I probed it, and from the tightness of it, I was also willing to bet his little wife had never given this part of her husband any sensual thought.
"I stopped sucking him long enough to wet my finger with my mouth, then I dropped my hand right back to his asshole. I tickled it a little and then began to push it into him. I didn't forget my tongue work, though, and I sucked him nice and fast while his tongue kept doing wild, wonderful things to my pussy. I was free to come at any time, but I knew that would happen the second I got him launched.
"He loved the sixty-nine, and he loved my finger ramming in and out of his asshole. I think he could have gone on indefinitely if I hadn't used that finger so effectively. He began to come, and he sobbed like a baby against my cunt as he came. I joined him effortlessly, and it was a damn fine come, too. He might have been inexperienced, but he sure knew how to make a girl feel fine.
"He shot a huge load into my throat, and I swallowed what I could of it and let the rest drip down on the sheets. Tomorrow would be laundry day at this apartment, anyway. Ron moaned and let his head fall to the side, and as soon as I could I rolled off him. I don't smoke very often, but I accepted a cigarette then, and inhaled gratefully.
"That was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, Julie. God. My God! Listen, honey, I'd like to see you again, sometime. Soon."
"I smiled. Ron really was new at this thing. "No way, Ron. I'm sorry. I really loved it, too, but the rules of this kind of party say it's a one shot deal, unless, of course, we should happen to run into each other again at a party. That would be fine."
"He looked confused for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't like it too much if my wife started seeing someone she met at a party. Somehow it's different this way. It's like a time out, or something. You know, as if neither of us are really cheating."
"I was sort of interested in what he was saying, but I figured we had better ways to use our time. I began to play with his soft cock again.
"It took a little while to get it to respond, but finally it got the message. I took it in my mouth again until it got really hard.
"You sure do that well. Do you . . . have you done it to many men?"
"That was the one thing with these square dudes. They always managed to say something as corny as that. "No," I cracked, lifting my head from his prick, "you're the only one."
"At first he didn't say anything, and then he laughed. "Touche, little mouse. Suck it some more. I'm glad you know how to do it.' He thought a moment longer then added, "It would be fine if my wife managed to pick up a little experience."
"I returned to sucking on him, and because I really felt like giving him a thrill and also because I knew it would blow his mind, I also licked his balls and stuck my tongue far up his asshole. He loved it! I gave it another hot licking, then returned to his cock. He was so hot, after that, that he hurt me as he pressed me back on the bed. He climbed on top of me with that big prick of his in his hand. He wasted no time at all in ramming that tool home, either, and it felt wonderful pushing into me.
"Ron might have been a novice at sucking, but he was a pro at fucking. He knew how to use cock in a juicy cunt. He worked in part of it and pulled out, fed me a few more notches and withdrew, and then slammed the whole thing into me. He held still while I felt my cunt tighten in an unexpected orgasm, and then he began to fuck me seriously.
"Still wanting to add a little special something of my own, I reached back and tried to push my finger into his asshole. It was still a little moist from my tongue, and I managed to insert it to the first joint, but Ron pushed my hand away.
'Save that until I'm ready to come or it'll be over in a second."
"I put both my arms around his neck and just fucked him. I don't usually care that much for the man-on-top position, but Ron knew how to fuck from any angle, and any way he wanted to do it was fine with me.
"He began to move faster, then he slowed again and began to move in circles in me before resuming his rapid thrusts.
"I came just before the first droplets spurted out of his cock, and Ron's tongue laved my ear as he sprayed my insides with his hot come.
"We dressed as soon as we were able, and I even took the time and effort to attempt to tidy the bed for the next couple.
"Don was finishing a drink when we returned to the party, and Ron's wife, looking a little the worse for wear, was chewing an olive and reaching for another drink.
"The four of us exchanged a few words, but it was obvious that husband and wife were itching to spend a little time alone with each other, so I suggested Don take me home.
"It went exactly as I'd thought it would. Don was in a great mood all the way to my place, and he acted as if the fun game he'd just participated in was all my idea. I accepted his lavish compliments, but instead of feeling good about it I began to feel a little depressed. Fortunately that lasted only until we got to my apartment. Once there he pulled me to the couch and began to make love to me, just the way I liked it.
"Before we got too carried away, I did remember to ask him if his date for the evening, Ron's wife, liked being eaten. He answered that she hadn't had much experience with it, but she left that room an ardent fan of any kind of oral sex. It amused me somehow that Ron and his wife would have come out for the better from their first swapping party. Unless of course they were the type who thought it was fine to do such naughty things with other people but a no-no with the spouse.
"Then I forgot all about Ron and his wife as Don made love to me as wildly and passionately as if neither of us had had sex all week.
"It was only afterwards that I gave a final thought to Ron and his wife. After Don had left it crossed my mind that while the other couple might have had their sexual lives changed for them because of the party, nothing was really any different between Don and myself. Not really. . . ."
Except for the somewhat unusual situation of the couple not being married, Julie and Don typify much the same thing as Ron and his wife-the hope of finding outside stimulation to correct what might be a lack in themselves and the relationship.
While it is difficult to believe that taking part in the swinging parties currently popular with their set will effect any real harm, it still remains to be seen if such a diversion can accomplish much good. On the surface it seems obvious that the future sexual life between Ron and his wife will be helped by this experience, and certainly Julie suspects this will be the case, but even she suspects some flaw in this instant therapy. Julie says, "Unless of course they were the type who thought it was fine to do such naughty things with other people but a no-no with the spouse." Without giving it any real thought, she realizes that so convenient a solution would have come about without the need for extramarital sex.
For Julie herself, her final words sum up what she fears is the truth, that a night with a fun experience at swapping mates cannot really make any difference. "Not really," she says, and perhaps she wonders why they have bothered.
CHAPTER THREE - Aboveboard Lover
"The party was going full blast by the time we arrived. The music was loud, but as rich and clear as if the rock band had been in the next room. In fact, everything was top class: the magnificent apartment, the furnishings, the wines and food served buffet-style-even the people.
There were six couples present when we arrived, and each of the men were handsome and had that well-cared-for look about them. It wasn't that they were young or muscular. Two were on the thin side, and one had a definite pot belly under the expensive suit he was wearing. No, it was more a look of power and position they had, as if each man knew he could have whatever he wanted and thus was selective in his wants.
"The women were all beautiful. They were perfectly groomed and dressed, and it was obvious that each had done her best to outdo the rest. If any of them were less than beautiful when they looked into the mirror in the morning, they went to elaborate lengths to overcome the fact. Not all of them were as young as they looked at first glance, but there wasn't a man who wouldn't have been proud to be seen with any of them.
"My mind skipped back to when I was in Iowa, when I was a little girl. We'd have community potluck dinners, and each woman would throw together her very best recipe and place it on the large central table. Then, throughout the affair, each would keep an eye smugly on her masterpiece, as if mentally comparing it to her neighbor's, all the time watching to see how it went over and enjoying any trace of proof that hers was the best. That was how the men were about their women, only they were also sizing up the competitors' wares, knowing that they were free to sample the merchandise.
"I hadn't wanted to come at all, but now that I was here I was woman enough to be glad I'd worn the plain, clinging black jersey after all. I knew that Reed was proud to be with me, silently delighting in my small, curvy figure and aware of the looks of interest I was getting as we entered the sumptuous living room.
"I glanced at him as our host came toward us with a broad smile on his face. My anger was pretty well gone, but only because I'd never been able to hold anger very well. Not that I didn't have reason for being mad. I loved Reed, and he loved me. And yet he was asking me to do something that was totally against my grain, and, even worse, I'd finally consented to do it.
"Working with and for Reed as I did, I knew as much about what was going on in the Street as he did. I actually heard about the swinging parties that had become popular before Reed had, and some spark of wisdom told me that this information Reed didn't need. Maybe it was because my mother once told me that men were like children, and the worse the evil the more they wanted to know about it. And, once knowing, she'd said, the next step is the doing. Or maybe it was because my Reed was a human dynamo, and, as hard as he worked, that was how hard he played, and I knew he liked tremendous distraction when he was playing. If we went to a movie and it wasn't great, we left. If it was a play we'd paid a fortune to see-he for the tickets and me for the 'right' outfit-we'd still leave after the first act if it wasn't superior. One bad meal at a restaurant and they'd never have a chance to cook for Reed again. From the beginning I tried my best in bed, afraid that if I was anything but top rate that way I'd never get a second look.
"Sure, I admit it. I worship Reed. If you knew him you'd know why. He's like no one else. But he needs to have his own way, and the tremendous pressure under which he works makes his needs understandable. When we're out together in the evening, I want to do everything I can to relax him and make him happy. We're waiting for his divorce to be final so that we can get married, but it's almost as if we were already. Only we don't live together, because Reed worries that his wife will see to it that he doesn't get to see his little boy if she can prove that we're living together.
"Reed had found out about the swapping parties, of course. And he began kidding me about them, saying we should try them out. The thought didn't terrify me or anything. I wasn't a virgin when I went to bed with Reed that first time. But I froze at the thought of him making love to another woman and possibly preferring her to me.
"But the kidding increased over the week, and it was less funny all the time. I knew Reed, and I knew that once he had hold of an idea that appealed to him it would be impossible to pry him loose from it without his checking it out thoroughly.
"He finally came out and told me he wanted to go to one of the parties, and he wanted me to go along with him. I tried to pretend he was joking, but Reed continued to be serious. He even went so far as to explain.
"I like variety in my life, Adele, and that doesn't exclude women. Now that doesn't mean I don't love you, and it doesn't mean that I want any other woman for my wife or companion. What it does mean is that I never intended to be sexually faithful to just one woman for the rest of my life. I've said that before, honey, remember?"
"He had. It was one of the things he'd hated about his first marriage. He wasn't the kind of man to sneak around and hide things from his wife, but her attitude had been a 'don't let me know' one towards extra-marital sex. "I guess I always thought that would come up later, after you were bored with me."
"Reed laughed at that. "I don't ever want to be bored with you, Adele. I think one way to avoid that is to make our sexual life less restricted. Everything about marrying you appeals to me except that. The concept of again getting into a relationship where I'm forbidden to fuck anyone but my wife disturbs the hell out of me. I want a flexible wife, Adele. If this swapping thing hadn't come up I would still have had it out with you. Sooner or later. Before we could seriously plan to get married. I'm glad this came up. We may as well see if there's any point in continuing together now."
"Although his voice was soft and there was no hint of a threat in his tone, I knew Reed well enough to know what he meant. It wasn't a threat -it was an ultimatum.
"Reed! Good to see you! And this delectable creature must be Adele.' Foster H-came forward, playfully slugged Reed on the arm, and pulled me close for a deep, non-playful kiss. I was gasping for air by the time he let go of me.
"He introduced us to his wife, a dark beauty who spoke with a slight accent and pressed against Reed as she kissed him. Charlene graciously introduced us to the other couples, and if it wasn't for the elaborate kisses I'd have found it difficult to believe that this wasn't just another elegant business-pleasure cocktail party. The idea that I was having my first visit to a sex-swapping party was mind-boggling. But it didn't take long to realize it was true.
"The wife of a very successful broker I'd met once before, began to dance alone in the middle of the room. She was a gorgeous blonde, with waist-length hair she was freeing from its careful French roll as she swayed her broad but exciting hips. After pulling out the last pin, Stephani shook her lovely head and swirled in time to the pulsating tempo of a drum solo. Her hair twirled into the air and then swished around her upper body, briefly covering her large breasts which were nearly naked in the low-cut gown she was wearing.
"Take it off, Steph," a man encouraged. A little more of my Iowa background came out as I felt a stab of surprise to realize it was her husband who had made the suggestion.
"She looked at him under lowered lashes, her smoky eyes half-closed. Then she smiled. "Yeah?" She thrust out her big breasts and twirled again as a lone horn joined the drummer.
"Oh, yes!" another man answered.
"Come on, Stephani, take it off. Let's see if the rest is as pretty . . ." a deep voice by my side added. It was Reed.
"The blonde began to slow her movements while the group formed a loose circle around her. Matt, another broker I knew slightly, stacked some more records on the stereo and hastily got back on the couch where he had a ringside seat.
"Stephani danced well, and it was obvious from the start that she liked having men watch her move. She kicked off her heels and slowly began to play with the long zipper on the back of her gown. She pulled it down as far as she could, loosening the top of the dress so that each move she took revealed more and more of her naked breasts. They were huge and firm, bouncing freely as she danced, and with each turn the darker coral of her large, spiky nipples could be briefly glimpsed.
"Reed put an arm around me and squeezed one of my breasts over my dress, though he didn't take his eyes from the dancing girl's lush, slowly unveiling mounds. I felt a hot rush of embarrassment from his unexpected touch, but then I remembered where we were and why we were here, and I relaxed, allowing him to knead my flesh as he wished. I was just so relieved to have it be me he was touching still. A quick glance around the room showed me that everyone else was similarly occupied, though few were touching their own mates. It struck me then that I was the only unmarried one present, if you counted Reed, who was as good as divorced.
"As his hand cupped my breast and his fingers began to tease my stiffening nipple I began to understand what brought the wives to these parties. Up until that moment I'd been thinking in the back of my mind that I was powerless to refuse to accompany Reed to this sex party. After all, we weren't yet married and I had no real hold on him, and if I hadn't gone perhaps he would have taken another girl. But now that the exciting music was going full-blast and Stephani was stripping and everyone was touching and Reed was rolling my taut little nipple in his fingers, I was beginning to feel sexier than ever before.
"Stephani backed towards Matt and rotated her hips in his face as she allowed him to undo the zipper all the way. Then, softly bumping her meaty buttocks into his face, she moved back to the center of the room, wriggling her exquisite body enough to encourage the gown to slip down over her bare breasts, slender waist, rounded belly and waving hips. It hissed over her long legs and formed a dark puddle around her small feet.
"Reed nearly ripped my dress in his haste to get his hand on my naked flesh. He crushed the nipple powerfully, the way I always liked it, and I moaned a little, yet I kept my eyes fixed on the blonde woman. She was naked now except for a wisp of cloth around her hips, the rolled pair of panties she was tugging at and then lowering, teasing her audience as they feasted on her lovely body with its erotically bouncing breasts and sensual hips. She passed a hand over the mound of her sex-, and when the hand finally lowered, the panties went with it.
"I glanced around the room again just as Reed took one of my hands and brought it to his fly. His penis was very hard and throbbed against the metallic bonds. He wanted me to free him, and one glance around told me it would be all right. It was actually difficult to believe what was going on, even to comprehend my own feelings. Here we were, a room full of ordinary, civilized human beings brought up in a culture which prohibited free sexual expression, and made sex a private matter to be enjoyed behind closed and locked doors. Yet here we were, growing excited in plain sight of each other, touching one another, ever prepared, I think, to have sex in front of each other. Maybe what made it all right was the fact that somehow each couple seemed isolated from the next, and people I actually knew seemed like total strangers, faceless, as they conducted themselves so freely. I don't know. I only know I was excited, more than I'd have expected to be in my wildest dreams.
"Matt had the lovely red-haired wife of his business partner on his lap, and it was obvious she was soothing more than the flesh of his leg with her gyrating hip. Foster was sitting on the floor cross-legged, and a sweet-faced girl with soft brown curls was playing with his short, fat tool while his hand was digging energetically under her mini-dress. By the look on her face as she watched Stephani, it was a toss-up as to what was exciting her the most-Foster or Stephani. They believed they were hidden by a large chair blocking their bodies from most of the room, but I could see them clearly, she with her fist wrapped around his shaft and he with his busy fingers.
"Foster's wife Charlene was passionately being kissed by Stephani's husband, Art, and one other couple were also locked together in an embrace in the other corner. The others were watching, especially Darren, a tall lawyer I'd met several times before. I knew he was married to Jane, but he had eyes only for the naked Stephani, and I knew it would only be minutes before he reached for her.
"The zipper opened easily, and my hand closed over and began pumping Reed's huge cock. When I'd agreed to come to this party I'd given in only to please Reed. I wasn't expecting this surge of excitement I was feeling. But it was impossible to resist. The air was filled with sexual tension, and the assault on my senses was too irresistible. All around me beautiful, successful, sophisticated people were openly touching and embracing each other, and clothing was beginning to litter the thick carpet.
"Charlene detached herself long enough to hurry around dimming the lights. The gas fire in the natural brick fireplace licked around the artificial logs, casting its soft flickering illumination over the large room. Nearby a wine glass was overturned on the massive Spanish coffee table, but no one bothered to wipe up the amber puddle. In the center of the room Stephani forgot her dance as Darren pulled her down in front of the fire, his mouth immediately closing over one swollen nipple.
"I had been so distracted by what was going on around me I was unaware of the change in hands on my now naked breasts. My body was reacting violently though my mind seemed frozen, numbed, unable to grasp what was going on. These were not just any group of people-these were the people with whom I'd worked for the last three years, the people I'd always thought of as the superstars of respectability and decorum. Even when I'd steeled myself for attending a swingers' party I'd not expected to find myself in the midst of an orgy. I'd imagined I'd end up in some room with a stranger, yes, but not making love to a stranger in a room strewn with other naked strangers, all making love with other strangers, all desperately searching for some elusive kick that was bigger than the last one.
"Oh, I know how that sounds-moralistic and removed and above it all, and that was the craziest part. Because while my feelings from the neck up were these, from the neck down I was the stranger. Because I wanted to join in, wanted to so much that I understood Stephani's abandon perfectly, would have done the same thing with the least encouragement, if it were not for the me that lived above my neckline. It shocked me profoundly, partially because I was aware that the others at this party were experienced swingers, who had probably made the progression from embarrassed first swapping sessions to sharing a bedroom with another couple, to orgies of this magnitude. And I was, essentially, a simple, practical girl who had never been exposed to anything like this-yet I was sexually swept up with it all, and my body was aching to participate fully. I was also shocked because the mind part of me kept thinking with a peculiar clarity, and it proved to be far the weaker part of myself, as I didn't even withdraw and leave when I realized, finally, that it was no longer Reed who was fondling me. . . .
"I still clutched Reed's penis as if it were a life preserver, but Reed was making motions to move away. Toward another woman, not just away. I turned, dazed, and found myself looking into the smoldering eyes of a man I barely knew, and he was manipulating my breasts with both hands.
"Let's go grab one of the bedrooms while there's still one available," he said, this stranger. "Come on."
"I gave a quick look at Reed, who was now kissing a very good looking blonde, and I nodded. Suddenly I wanted very much to be alone with this man, alone and naked and in bed. I wanted and needed him inside me, the hot need which overshadowed all other emotion.
"That was the first time. We just went into an empty bedroom, closed the door, undressed, and passionately fucked each other. There was no foreplay or building, not because he wasn't a patient lover but because there was no need for it. We were both so ripe, nearly to the point of mental exhaustion before we ever began, and I wanted him inside me, just as deeply as he could go. It wasn't like with Reed. It was instead a mindless, emotionless, soulless loving which thrilled my senses and humiliated my intellect. But, nevertheless, it was good. So very, very good.
"Afterwards I helped myself to a drink in the main room where three couples still were occupied, half hidden by bits of furniture. I sat alone on a tall chair in a corner, not wanting to be disturbed while I drank to a new experience."
An unusually intelligent and thoughtful person, Adele N-forces herself to remain alert and inquisitive throughout her first experiment with swapping, yet she doesn't allow her awareness to interfere with her sexual involvement or enjoyment. In fact she rather masochistically uses that awareness to heighten her sensual response to the excessive visual and tactile stimulation. Adele indeed has taken that disturbing, threatening aspect of the party to the point where she is aroused "more than ever before" and experiences an intense orgasm in the hands of the somewhat repugnant stranger-figure. Perhaps her dichotomy is best explained by Theodor Reik in his book, Of Love and Lust. In his chapter called "Masochism in Modern Man" Reik speaks of achieving pleasure by resisting or redefining discomfort:
The purpose to obtain satisfaction in spite of all threats develops into the tendency to gain satisfaction to spite all threats.
And in this fashion Adele is free to experience a tremendous sexual release with her "stranger." She has indeed made the most of her position, which is rather a bitter one, since she believes herself to be without an alternative other than to comply with her lover's insistence that they experience this new sexual game.
What Adele is unable to see, in fact refuses to see, is that she is victimized only by herself. In the same way that she allows herself to acquiesce to Reed W-'s urging that they attend swapping parties-quickly assuring herself that to put up any resistance at all will mean an immediate and ultimate loss of his love-Adele also sees herself as hopefully overcome with eroticism, perhaps to the point that she tends to disassociate her "real" self with the woman who gave herself so completely to the "stranger." In this way she herself therefore becomes the "stranger," and as such has made love to herself on one level.
Reed's conduct is on still another level. He is used to giving orders and taking charge of his life, and has deliberately chosen a woman who will allow herself to be led. He offers Adele a minimal "reason" for his desire for sexual experimentation and mate swapping, because he already knows she will respond as he wishes. His fear of being again tied to a female who will utilize the legal part of their relationship to keep him sexually committed to her is at the surface, and he is not mistaken in assuming Adele may attempt to do this at some later date, since she says as much when she refers to the other wives at the party:
Up until that moment I'd been thinking in the back of my mind that I was powerless to refuse to accompany Reed to this sex party. After all, we weren't yet married and I had no real hold on him, and if I hadn't gone perhaps he would have taken another girl.
This, of course, implies that she would not have felt so "powerless" to refuse to attend the party if they were married. Reed attempts to clarify his position and does so, giving her a choice.
It was Sigmund Freud who reminded his students that "unusual conduct isn't necessarily neurotic." For a hardworking, hard-playing man such as Reed, unusual sexual situations could qualify as simple, intense play. As is true of his business associates as well as of himself, the play of the rich can at times be more complex and diverse than the play of others. More is available to them, and boredom can take the place of desire. Norman Macleod once said:
The rich are the real outcasts of society, and special missions should be organized for them.
Such special playgrounds would have to include sexual stimuli, and the orgiastic sex of the party Reed and Adele first attended puts one in mind of the great playgrounds of the ancient Romans, where excesses of every sensual delight were mandatory since the jaded could not be satiated with simplicity. Adultery and wife-swapping were quite popular back then also, because, according to the poet Catullus, the love of someone else's wife was thought to be far more desirable and more exciting than love of a courtesan or concubine.
In modern times and among people of sophistication comparatively strong stimulation is necessary to lift the sexual act from the ordinary and generate into it that extra strength which will make it extraordinary. Reed is not yet bored sexually with Adele, and yet he puts off the moment when he might be by adding variety to his eroticism long before his "need" for it is experienced.
"The cabin was cathedral-like in design and magnificence. It was a huge A-frame; one wall was nearly all glass with inserts of stained glass on either side and in a triangular shape at the apex of the window. I could imagine how it would look in early morning, with streaks of sunlight shooting through that colored glass, a beautifully conceived frame for the landscape of snow and mountains and lake outside. It was obvious that the owners of the cabin had taste and imagination.
"Reed put his arm around me as we chatted briefly with our host, who insisted I call him Brad. He was older, with a graying mustache and sideburns, and that orangy-tanned face of the very well cared for, the very rich. He was good-looking in a way that had nothing to do with facial features. For a man in his fifties he had a firm, muscular body, and the tight slacks he wore made a promise out of every word he said.
"Sandra, Brad's wife, soon detached herself from the small group of couples she'd been drinking with, and her beautiful face was alive with excitement as she came over to us. "Key game, darling?" she asked her husband.
"A look of mild irritation crossed Brad's face, reminding me of a little boy on the verge of boredom and frustration. "No. We did that last time.' He sipped his drink absently for a moment, then gave a hint of a smile. "Musical chairs. At least we haven't tried that for a while. And I feel energetic tonight!"
"Sandra kissed his cheek and turned to the others, her flame red gown spiraling out around her. "Brad wants musical chairs! Girls, you all know where the bedrooms are!" She was like an especially lovely teenager announcing a round of spin-the-bottle.
"I looked at Reed quickly, but he just nodded. Sandra returned and took my hand. "Come, darling, you're the only newcomer tonight. You may have the master bedroom!"
"I resisted an urge to glance back at Brad as I let the honey-haired woman lead me up the compelling flight of wrought iron stairs. Down the long, highly waxed wooden hallway, the other women were disappearing into rooms, and I couldn't help feeling a sudden twinge of sexual excitement. The name of the game we were about to play sounded suspiciously obvious, and I felt a fluttery helpless feeling because now, this second time, it was going to be so much easier than the first . . . already I was feeling my nipples stiffening and my hot juices beginning to flow. . . .
"Here, Adele, isn't it lovely?" Sandra waved her hand to include the huge bed with its lush tapestry spread, the simple yet elegant furnishings, the chocolate fuck rug and the dazzling assortment of antique music boxes and cut-glass spray bottles which artfully cluttered the top of a richly carved ancient vanity with a curving mirror which reflected both of us.
"Lovely," I repeated, meaning it. Then Sandra spoke again on her way out, and my appreciation for the interior decorating was forgotten.
"Undress quickly, darling. The men have never been known for their patience. Oh, and only one rule-should you find yourself with your own man . . ." he giggled, then flicked off the light as she stood poised in the doorway, "you must do something you've never done to each other before. I don't think that's possible with Brad and myself, but do try. Have fun!"
"I undressed with only the light from the dim hallway to see by. Placing my gown over the back of a chair, I quickly got into the big bed. Already I could hear the sound of footsteps in the hall, muted giggles from the other rooms, and the soft, final thuds of doors being closed. The sounds made what would come next a reality, and
I gently pinched a nipple to keep from enduring the sweet ache another moment. Then a man quickly stepped into the room and closed the door.
"I held my breath in the darkness, releasing it when the bed sagged under the weight of another body. A hand reached out, slid up my body, rested against my cheek, and then he was kissing me, his tongue going into my mouth while a hand went to my naked breast. It felt firm and hot and demanding, and my hard nipple swelled against the palm, wanting to be crushed.
"Adele? You Reed's girl, Adele?" The voice was deep and masculine, but completely unknown to me.
"Yes," I whispered, closing my eyes and responding to the rough hand squeezing my flesh.
"I got the jackpot, first try. It's going to be a great night," he said, pulling away from me.
"The sensual, wonderful feel of his hand on me was so good that I reached to bring him back.
"He laughed. "Hot little bitch, huh? Fine. That just happens to be the way I like them. Don't worry, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I just want to get rid of these clothes. You'll like me even better without them."
"My face flamed in the darkness as I waited, and then he was back, his body long and hot and hard against me . . . I'd pulled the spread back and had managed to free a sheet from the bedding, which I'd used to cover myself, though I'd smiled at this lingering touch of modesty. My partner now peeled off the sheet, chuckling a little as he fitted his body to mine.-It felt so good, this fleshy kiss.
"Who. . . . I don't know who you are," I whispered finally, after another deep, wet kiss. His tongue inflamed me as it explored the inside of my mouth, and I moaned as he kneaded my breasts with both strong hands.
"Does it matter? Jess, baby, now do you remember?"
"I didn't, but I realized he was right. What did it matter? He was fitting his knees inside my legs and my hot young body was responding. His cock attracted me like a magnet, and I felt my hips lifting and swaying, my juicing cunt attempting to plaster itself against his bar of throbbing flesh. I thought briefly of Reed, off in another bedroom, plying his wonderful prick or snake-like tongue on another woman's body. But I couldn't hold the jealous thought long, not with hands touching me, lips kissing me, a cock seeking my slit. . . .
"You move like you haven't had any for a month! Jesus, I love a hot bitch!" Jess ducked his head and began to suck my nipples, going from one to the other and then back again. "You have beautiful tits, baby. You're beautiful all over. . . ." His hand worked across my body, moving over my belly and dropping to the insides of my thighs.
"I moaned softly as he began to play with my moist slit. He used one finger to scout ahead and explore my inflamed clitoris and then he brought his thumb up, sinking it deeply inside my body. With his other hand he brought my sweating palm to his swollen cock. "Just play with it nice, Adele. That's it. . . . Don't pump it too much or I'll come all over your hand. That's good. . . ."
"From the next bedroom I could hear a muffled scream of orgasm. It made me wonder if it had been Reed who had skillfully evoked that outcry. It was so strange, to wonder that-and care, too -even while my hand stroked and rubbed the throbbing cock of another man.
"Jess pulled away. "You keep playing real nice like that, hear? Just don't stop. Don't get too vigorous until you feel yourself start to come."
"I held on tightly while the rest of him moved over me. I felt the strong, hairy length of his leg brush my shoulder, and finally he was across me, half on his side, his cock poised so that I had easy access to it while his head was cushioned between the softness of my inner thighs.
"I held my breath as he began kissing and nibbling on my tender flesh. He played close to my aching core, but he was content to tease me for a while. Excited by the game, I began to sway my hips in an attempt to force his face on my hot and eager pussy. Meanwhile my hand tugged urgently on his prick and fondled his balls. It was crazy, his doing that to me, and finally I began to whimper in frustration.
"Something troubling you, baby?" He sucked a mouthful of flesh so close to my cunt that I could feel his breath on my pulsating clitoris.
"Oh, don't tease me anymore, Jess. Please! Do it, please! Do it to me. . . ." I pleaded, my free hand going helplessly to the back of his head, as if to force him to do as I asked.
"Do what, doll? Tell me what you want me to do. . . ." He licked his wet tongue down over the edge of my mound, his chin tickling the wiry dark hairs.
"I began jerking on his meat while my hips did a drum roll against his face. Jess either had a very effective approach toward women in general, or he was very perceptive about the way I liked my sex. I was so hot that I'd have begged on bended knee, if he'd wanted me to.
"And go easy on that cock, honey, or I'll shoot off and that'll be the end of our fun, even before you get any. . . ."
"Immediately I stopped my frenzied beating of his flesh and arched my back, thrusting and opening my cunt for him. "Please," I whimpered, "please eat me. Lick my pussy. Please, Jess, I can't stand it. Don't tease me any more. Lick it! Lick it!" His hot breath was right on my pussy now and I could feel the steaming juices dripping from my slit.
"Still he took his time about it. First he carefully lapped the hairy flesh of the outer lips while parting them with his sensitive fingers. Then he began tonguing the velvety inner folds, avoiding the throbbing button which ached for his attentions. Finally I felt the tip of his tongue quiver against the bottom of my clitoris, and I began to moan like a hurt child. Then, with no further warning, Jess sucked the entire marble of my throbbing clit into his mouth. He began to suck and lick it as if it were a little cock, and my body went wild from this unexpected direct manipulation. When Reed or other men had licked me, it was always a slow and sweet building to orgasm, but Jess was attacking me as if he wanted to force my come. It was like being tongue-raped, and at first I tried to slow him down, moderate his actions.
"No! Please, don't . . . not so rough! Ooh, Jess . . . no . . . no.. . . It's too much. . . . Go easy, please. Ooh . . . I can't. . . don't.. . I can't take it. . . ooh. . . ." I used both my hands on his head, weakly trying to pry his sucking mouth from my delicate clitoris. But he just reached up, without a pause, and returned my hands to his body, pressing one to his pounding cock and the other to his swollen balls.
"Helplessly I moaned and twisted on the bed, my hands fondling him passionately as he wished me to, my sensitive cunt a prisoner to his darting tongue, sucking mouth and sharp, nipping teeth. I felt as if I were tumbling head-first into a black pit. It was a violent kind of sex, painless and yet almost too painful to bear. The fierce sensations rocked my body as his tongue lashing continued, and when finally he brought his strong hands up to squeeze and mold the tender flesh of my breasts I began to jerk my hand frantically over his throbbing cock. I could sense the hot come gathering in his balls and moving up for the final eruption, but I barely felt the thick cream explode over my hand. I was too busy biting back the scream which swept over me as my own body suddenly buckled and went wild. It was like finally descending to the bottom of that black pit, and I cried out with the most violent orgasm I'd ever known. . . .
"Only then did he grudgingly release his sucking mouth from my aching clitoris. . . .
"As if in a dream I watched the man wipe his hot come off his belly and leave the room. "We'll have to do that again real soon, honey," he said, throwing me a kiss. The door barely closed behind him before it again opened and another man entered the room, naked, his clothing in his hand.
"Fortunately this one only wanted to fuck me. He, too, was unknown to me, and he was young enough to be instantly hard, even though he had just come from another woman.
"He kissed me, but it was in a polite sort of way, as if he'd learned long ago that a fuck should always be preceded by a kiss. The same with the feeling of my breasts. He didn't really come alive until he started pumping his cock into me. He wasn't big, but he was thick, and after all that sucking he felt very good in me.
"After a few strokes the man-Bill, he said his name was-stopped moving. "I'm not quite as young as I look, I guess. My back is killing me. How about you doing a little of the work?"
"I climbed over him willingly enough. On his back with his stomach taut Bill's dick seemed longer and even thicker. I straddled his hips and reached down, guiding him until he was firmly into me. Then I stiffened my spine and slowly ate his cock with my cunt.
"Bill loved it. He reached up and began to play with my breasts and nipples. His touch was gentle and I needed it rough there. I don't know, some girls like it gentle, I suppose, but I don't have much feeling in my tits unless they're handled roughly, then it's wonderful. Not brutally or anything, just firmly.
"Harder," I asked Bill. "Touch them harder.' I stopped moving and put my hand over his. I squeezed firmly and sighed. "Like that. Go ahead. I won't break."
"That settled, I began moving on his prick again. I humped slowly and smoothly, groaning as his tool soothed every wrinkle in my cunt. It felt so good, especially after the extreme stimulation of Jess' tongue. Now I wanted the fullness, the hardness, the depth of total penetration.
"Bill put his hands on my soft hips, moving me around awhile, then he let his hands slide back over my rump. He cupped each buttock in each palm, and he squeezed them as firmly as he had my breasts. Then he released his grip, moved back to my breasts with their jutting nipples and began the three-point touching all over again. Each time the hands would come to my hips, he'd disrupt whatever rhythm I'd instigated and subject me to a few seconds of irregular humping. It felt wonderful and lengthened our session. I hadn't thought I'd be able to orgasm again after the scene with Jess, but I knew I was rapidly building up to a climax. Guiltily, it flashed through my mind that I was rarely this stimulated, even with Reed, whom I adored so deeply. The thought fled, however, as I started to come, and it was a womb-fluttering sensation that wasn't nearly as strong as the earlier one, but was every bit as satisfying.
"I continued my strong, speedy hip movements on Bill's swollen cock during my orgasm and for the minute following it, until he grabbed me around the waist and pounded into me for a few, desperate strokes, spurting into me as he moved.
"The next hour was a blur. Another man followed Bill . . . but I'd had it. I persuaded him that there was nothing in the world I'd like better than to coax his orgasm with my mouth and hand. He was an older man, and I think he was grateful, because he could hardly get it up. He wasn't very big, either, and that made it easier still, and I really did give him an especially good sucking, just for being such a good guy. I was using my tongue to tickle and stimulate the underside of his cock when I realized who he was. The man I was blowing just happened to be one of the most important men on all Wall Street, a man who could make or break whole industries.
I was a little awed as I again remembered who these men were that I was sexually entertaining and being entertained by. . . .
"The next man to enter my room that night-and, fortunately, the last-was Reed himself. I was half asleep when he entered, and as I felt his weight ease into the bed next to me, I didn't even know who he was.
"Adele? Is that you, honey?"
"I touched his chest as if to make sure it was actually Reed. "In the flesh. What's left of it."
"He hugged me. "Big night, huh?"
"I nodded, too tired and drained to answer. Yet I felt a little awkward with him, as if we shouldn't be together like this, here, after we had been with so many others. Even his familiar body next to mine, not doing anything other than just being there, giving me warmth and love felt weird, wrong, somehow. It seemed impossible that he could share this bed and not my feelings.
"I told Foster and Charlene we'd most likely be free to join them for a weekend cruise on their yacht the eighteenth of next month. Have we anything lined up for then?"
"I thought a moment. "No," I answered truthfully, sorry I hadn't been able to come up with a previous commitment. All of a sudden, endless long weekends of swapping and more swapping loomed ahead in my mind for us, and I experienced a definite, sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.
"I was at a total loss to explain the way I felt, even to myself. I'd enjoyed sex on these two occasions enormously. It had been far more explosive and fulfilling than I'd anticipated. Yet the realization that my future with Reed would be one long swap party panicked me. Reed was an impatient man in certain ways, and he thrived on one experience being bigger than the one before. It was the way he conducted his business, and I wondered how that pattern would work in our life together. Maybe if we'd just stayed the two of us alone a while longer we could have expanded our sexuality slowly, and Reed would have been content with less for a longer time. But I'd agreed to do this swapping thing with him, and in a short week we'd been to what amounted to an orgy, a night of musical beds, and now we were going on a weekend swapping party with another couple on the ocean. Where could we go from there? I was a little frightened, all of a sudden.
"I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I hadn't heard Reed's comment. "What?"
"He laughed and lit a cigarette. "I said we were supposed to do something to each other we'd never done before. So give me a minute and I'll see if I can come up with anything.' "
Once again Adele has masochistically acted in a way she believes is against her own interests in going along with Reed as he furthered his exploration of the thrills and excitement of sex via swapping. She is keenly aware that her lover's tendency is to expect constant stimulation and variety in all phases of his life, and that unless the newest experience is greater than the one before he is going to be bored and irritable. Yet Adele offers no resistance to their participation in the swapping, and, in fact, blots out the negative sides of it while she herself is actively engaged in it. It is only afterwards that she bothers to dwell on the dangerous side issues-and this is futile where any practical application is concerned, because she keeps her fears and observations from Reed. In this way she punishes herself for the pleasure she has experienced and frees herself to accept the next exposure.
CHAPTER FOUR - Hank's Special Dividend
"It had to happen sooner or later, which is exactly the reason I kept putting off the doctor appointment as long as I did. But Nedra kept nagging at me, and finally I'd run out of excuses.
"Doctors give me a laugh, anyway. They waste a fortune going to medical school to give three forms of advice and medication, and I don't mind being quoted on it either-for children they prescribe aspirin or a laxative, juices and bed rest, to women they give tranquilizers or hormones, a diet, and a suggestion that they grab five minutes of feet-up relaxation twice a day, and to men they drag out the diet, insist you have to give up smoking and drinking, and suggest golf. For that you need a wall full of degrees!
"Look, I'm not kidding around, Hank," Dr. Walker insisted at the tail end of that visit. "You're carrying thirty extra pounds, your lungs are coated with nicotine and all that booze is going to start making itself felt. You work in one of the most excitable streets in the world, your blood pressure's too high anyway, and I don't like some of the results we're seeing on the tests we took."
"I'm a busy man and I was itching to get out of there. It wasn't that I wasn't listening to Gene, but I took it all as a routine spiel, a doctor-to-patient lecture for the patient who's recently turned forty.
"He must have known I was only half believing him, because he started getting red. "Listen to me, damn it, Hank! We've known each other too long to bullshit! If you don't start taking care of yourself you're going to die a very young man!
I see it happen day after day, and when I tell you I don't like what I see happening to you, I don't mean I'm handing you a crock! Your liver is beginning to resemble the liver of an alcoholic. You can no longer afford to smoke or drink. If you keep it up, if you convince yourself that I'm not serious, you're going to leave Nedra a lovely young widow. Damn it, man, you don't realize how fortunate you are to be here today! I might not have seen you until after the damage was done! That's the way it usually is. So get the hell out of here and think about it. You're a great man with investments, and I only hope you have the sense to realize you are your best investment!"
"It wasn't like Gene to get upset like that, and he was finally reaching me. I knew he was on the level. "You want me to give up smoking and drinking completely, Gene?"
"He nodded. "It can't be a halfway thing, Hank. Not at this point."
"I was still scared, but I was also irritated. It had', taken me a long time to build up to the point where I could have the very best in liquor and tobacco, and I tended to be on the self-indulgent side.
"What the hell am I going to do for fun and relaxation? You want me to start taking dope, like the kids?"
"Gene laughed. "I'd tell you to go ahead, but all that would probably make you want is a real cigarette. Look, Hank, you lucky bastard, you have the greatest little relaxer at home. That beautiful wife of yours. Go home and take her to bed. Sex is the greatest pastime of all, and that's the only place I'm not shorting you."
"I left his office more than a little depressed. What he said about my wife was the final blow. If he only knew. . . . But a man can't tell another man about a thing like that, not even his own doctor. How would it look, a successful man like myself, married to a doll of a woman who happens to-be colder than an ice cube?
"Nedra is my second wife. I met her eight months after Connie died. I was working like a maniac in those days, and that was when I was really doing some heavy drinking. I couldn't stand going home to that empty house, so I went to bars and drank, instead. As often as possible I'd bring a woman back with me, not only for the sex but just so the house wouldn't seem so empty.
"I didn't meet Nedra that way. She's no cheap pickup. She was the sister of a business associate's wife, and I met her at a dinner party. I was relatively sober at the time, and Nedra was far and away the most attractive woman present. She was a divorcee with a young son in a military school and a daughter at home, and she was class all the way. I put on my best manners and by the end of the evening she had agreed to go to a play with me the following weekend.
"We went out together for a little over a month before I asked her to marry me. I swear I don't know why I asked her. I was lonely, mostly, and she was a fine looking, upstanding woman whom I could respect. And, in a way, I did love her. The craziest part was that I never once tried to lay a finger on her, much less my cock. Don't ask me why.
"It wasn't because she wasn't sexy. Aside from the face of an angel surrounded by a perfectly arranged head of ash blonde hair, Nedra had the body of a stripper. She had a good pair of tits on her and she was long and slim, with a neat yet sexy build, and she couldn't make a move that didn't make a man wonder how she'd move in bed next to him. But she was a lady, and somehow a man felt that he had to control his fantasies when he was with her. When I'd gotten to the point where I'd take Nedra home and then go looking for an easy lay who reminded me in some small way of her, I asked Nedra to be my wife.
"In many ways it was a fine thing to have done. Nedra was a good, efficient housekeeper, and she didn't waste my money on maids. She could throw an impressive dinner party and my associates wished their own wives were as charming. She had taste, a sense of humor, and she was a sensational gourmet cook. She was also a talented artist, and her landscapes had been in several shows around New York.
"It was in bed that my perfect wife became a different person. I'm not bragging, but I've never once-before this-had a woman who couldn't come alive in my arms. I'm not hung like a horse or anything, but I know how to make a woman feel glad that she had decided to go to bed with me. There's nothing I won't do to make a woman feel good, partly because I'm selfish enough to know that my sex will be better if I get her hot and I want the best I can get, and partly because I like doing all those things that turn a woman on.
"I tried everything with Nedra. Our honeymoon was one big try on my part. I took an hour just kissing her and touching, another hour working my tongue in and out of her gorgeous pussy. Everything. And my wife just smiled at me apologetically and tried to go through the motions, as if that would be enough for a man like myself.
"I tried explaining to her how vital passion is in getting your kicks when you're over the age of twenty-one or so. "It isn't enough that you just spread your legs and let me do what I want. I want you to want it, honey."
"She admitted that she'd always been that way, even with her first husband. She'd never told me about her sexual disinterest before we were married partially because I 'never asked' and partially because she was ashamed and frightened that I wouldn't want her. She was so sweet and defenseless, so different from her usual sophisticated, aloof self, that I couldn't do anything then but take her in my arms and reassure her that I loved her anyway.
"That didn't last, though, and I tried several times to get her to see a shrink. I figured it couldn't hurt, and for a while she did go, but nothing seemed to improve.
"Eventually I got a little angry by my wife's lack of response. I took to drinking heavily again, and no matter how much of a killing I'd make at the Market, I'd still feel like a mouse when I got home.
"Nedra was upset at my behavior, too. She made it obvious that she felt it was all her fault, and she very nicely looked the other way when I finally began a brief affair with another woman. Elaine was attractive and a new employee, and she was between lovers. At twenty-seven she was ripe and experienced, and she loved sex. She had small tits but a hot cunt, and she loved being fucked. I'd take her out to lunch and half the time we'd end up in a hotel room, with her giving me a sultry blow job while I licked that wild cunt of hers. She was a natural redhead, and that little strawberry box of hers was the best lunch in town.
"It lasted a few months, and Elaine was always ready for more. I moved her into an apartment close to the office eventually, and we'd spend enjoyable hours there, with my cock or face buried in her pussy. It was great, except for one thing.
"Don't ask me why, but playing behind my wife's very conveniently turned back bothered me. I knew Nedra regarded the whole thing as a necessary evil brought on by her own lack of sensuality, but something about it left me cold after the first wave of pleasure began to fade. I didn't like the lousy game of pretend we were playing with each other. Hell, I didn't get married for this.
"So I cut out the fooling around for a while, and once again I tried to arouse my wife. There's something in me that won't give up until I'm hit over the head with something. Needless to say, it didn't work out. So I went back to the drinking and the long hours at work.
"Anything can be bearable if you don't think about it too much. I used to be a real cunt hound, but I managed to push most of it out of my mind. Sure, I looked at the women, same as always, but I had such a rotten feeling about that secret affair bit that I didn't seriously consider getting into anything regular again. Sure, when the pressure got too great and I had to feel a passionate body under mine, I'd find me someone to pass an hour or so with. But it didn't make me comfortable. I even thought about asking Nedra for a divorce, but I didn't really want that either.
"Things might have gone on like that for a hell of a long time, maybe even until I was too old to give a damn, if my doctor hadn't put the screws on all my other vices. I walked away from that office like a dead man. If only I could go home and take Nedra to bed and get and give some real satisfaction.. . .
"It forced me to take a good, hard look at our sex lives. The thing had gone far enough. Something had to change or there wasn't any point in sticking together. It was then that the story Harvey had told me a few days before came to my mind.
"Harvey was a drinking buddy and divorced, and he had a reputation for chasing pussy even in his sleep. We were downing a few at the local bar, a phony clip joint which faked it as a dislocated English pub. As usual I was kidding him about his latest conquests. That was when Harvey stopped me and insisted that, as a married man, I was in a far better position to score than he was these days, especially with a wife as pretty as Nedra.
"I made it obvious I didn't know what he was talking about, and he asked me if I hadn't been invited to a lot of parties recently. I thought about it and realized that he was right-it seemed that I had been invited to everything from cocktail parties to weekend bashes lately. I hadn't paid much attention, because as a rule I tried to duck out of as many parties with business contacts as possible. Experience had taught me that there was too much of an opportunity for a chance drunken remark to screw up a deal I might have been working on for weeks.
"Eight out of ten of those invitations was for you and Nedra to attend a swingers' party, Hank, old man.' He grinned at my blank expression. "Swapping, you square! You know, you take my wife and give me yours."
"You're out of your cunt-happy mind, Harve.' I seriously thought he was joking.
"Hey, I'm serious! You think I'm putting you on? If you didn't keep your head so buried in business you'd know what was going on! The whole world's gone wife-swapping crazy, and some of the straightest, unlikeliest men I know are having themselves a ball. Like Jerry Mover at
H----'s! I understand that his wife is crazy for parties. She's a little doll and I once made a pass at her. You know, at one of those drunken evenings over at Larry's place. But all I got was a case of frostbite. Yet somehow, now that she and her husband are both doing it, it's fine with her. Go figure it out. . . ."
"I'd meant to tell Nedra about what Harvey had said, but it slipped my mind. I went on home and told Nedra what the doctor had said, and I didn't exactly mind watching her wince a little as I repeated Gene's suggestion that I step up my sex life to compensate for the drinking and smoking; And all the time I was talking I kept thinking of what Harve had said. Images of Larry's wife came to my mind, and I got a kick out of undressing the image and mentally fondling whatever-her-name-was.
"The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I liked the whole idea, the concept of a wife and husband doing the thing together. That way there wouldn't be any guilt or recriminations afterwards, and a couple could get all the sexual gratification they wanted. I waited until we were in bed to broach the subject to Nedra, and by that time it was looking very logical to me.
" "There's no dishonesty," I pointed out as she remained quiet. "And no need to divorce a wife or husband who doesn't cut it sexually.' I winked at her.
"We didn't get much sleep that night. Not that Nedra fought it, not even at the start. But I wanted her to hear all my points, because I wanted her cooperation. While this wasn't something I probably would've come up with myself, I was warming more and more to the idea. I hardly missed the booze and cigarettes at all.
"Nedra was strangely passive. I think I'd expected a lot of static from her, and honestly I would have granted that she had reason for resistance. After all, if she couldn't get much of anything out of having sex with her own husband, I knew she wouldn't be looking forward to much from a stranger. But she finally agreed that it might be worth trying, and we went to sleep with the issue settled. If I had any second thoughts I reminded myself that it likely wouldn't be any harder for Nedra to spread her legs for some other man, and, in a crazy way, she would indirectly be making me much happier.
"It took three weeks before I accepted a party invitation, and I made sure first that it was to be a real swap session. Once done, I could hardly work the rest of the day.
"I was horny that night, just thinking about the party two days away. I glanced at Nedra sleeping next to me and considered waking her up. But the thought of her non-responsive sex was particularly unappealing with the promise of something better ahead. Instead I jacked off, thinking about what might happen at Dave's party."
Eric Berne, in his work A Layman's Guide to Psychiatry and Psychoanalysis, mentions that "Good sex is not doing things to somebody, but doing things with somebody."
Hank agrees, to the point where he prefers actual masturbation to the pseudo-masturbation of making love to his wife. Berne continues:
Doing things to somebody, even a real partner instead of an imaginary one, is merely a form of masturbation with another person present, and is different from the experience of mutual sexual pleasure that comes from an adult sexual emotion.
Hank has a very real problem. He finds himself married to a woman who cannot return his sexual feeling, and because Hank, like Berne, finds sex inadequate if it is experienced without the partner's reciprocal enthusiasm, the passionless union threatens all phases of their married life. Hank seems confused about even the basic love for his wife: ". . . And, in a way, I did love her. . . . " Then, further in the narration: "She was so sweet and defenseless, so different from her usual sophisticated, aloof self, that I couldn't do anything then but take her in my arms and tell her that I loved her anyway." Later, confused and unfulfilled, he says, "I even thought about asking Nedra for a divorce, but I really didn't want that either."
He finds the necessary passionate response in outside sexual encounters, but he finds that less than satisfying in other ways:
Don't ask me why, but playing behind my wife's very conveniently turned back bothered me. I knew Nedra regarded the whole thing as a necessary evil brought on by her own lack of sensuality, but something about it left me cold after the first wave of pleasure began to fade. I didn't like the lousy game of pretend we were playing with each other. Hell, I didn't get married for this.
Obviously Hank finds "sneaking around" in order to get his sexual pleasure uncomfortable, however gratifying the experience itself. But it is impossible to understand Hank and Nedra's position without first understanding some of the factors which contribute to Nedra's frigidity.
Havelock Ellis doesn't believe that complete sexual anesthesia (frigidity) can exist!
It seems equally doubtful whether complete sexual anesthesia can exist in women. There can indeed be no doubt as to the extreme frequency of hypoesthesia, or, as it is usually termed, frigidity, which has indeed been estimated-I do not know by what method-as occurring in nearly seventy percent of women. Such wild statements must be put aside.
But Ellis puts the blame for the apparent frigidity on men, particularly husbands:
The chief reason why women are considered "frigid" lies less in themselves than in men. It is evident throughout that while in men the sexual impulse tends to develop spontaneously and actively, in women, however powerful it may be latently and more or less subconsciously, its active manifestations needs in the first place to be called out. That, in our society, is normally the husband's function to effect. It is his part to educate his wife in the life of sex; it is he who will make sex demands a conscious desire to her. If he, by his ignorance, prejudice, impatience, or lack of insight, fails to play his natural part, his wife may, by no defect of her own, be counted as "frigid."
Yet in the case of Hank and Nedra this cannot be regarded so simply. Hank has taken pains to arouse his wife fully, and he patiently tries even in the face of previous total failure. He isn't ignorant to the importance of arousing a woman, and he has no prejudice as to methods of arousal. He has proven his patience, and all we are left to go on is the possibility of some lack of insight.
As the narrative continues, it becomes obvious that this last option indeed proves to be somewhat responsible. For this couple, swapping eventually works wonders for the marriage and their problem, though not because of the simple exchange of sexual partners. Nedra discovers that she can feel sexual excitement and experiences her first orgasm, and there is no reason to doubt that once unblocked, her normal sexual desire will now be allowed to surface.
Nedra's problem proved to be basically non-sex related. An exquisite child and beautiful woman, Nedra never had to struggle or even yearn for male attention or adoration. She was pursued long before she, a late bloomer, had any real interest in the other sex. The daughter of an aggressive, bitter woman, Nedra had learned from early childhood that she could control men by their desire for her. Sex and her participation in it, never was made at all attractive to the girl, and she began her maturing process with the mistaken idea that sex was a means to attract males, and certainly not a means of pleasure for herself. Because of this we can better understand why, when Nedra feels herself in a competitive position in regard to her husband's attention, this sparks her latent sexuality. Triggered, all of her repressed eroticism surfaces, and she proves to be a thoroughly responsive woman.
It is doubtful whether the swapping of mates alone would have proved a satisfactory arrangement for this couple. Certainly Hank would have found some measure of satisfaction, since his sexual gratification could be taken without the feeling that he was cheating on his wife, since it would be happening with her full awareness and consent, and usually with her committing a similar act in the next room. But the feeling in Hank which cares so much that his wife be gratified also would likely prove to interject itself on his pleasure eventually, and he would find himself as far from gratification as with his affair with Elaine.
Another interesting aspect of this case is the willingness on Nedra's part to accept her husband's infidelities. She "conveniently turns her back" and pretends not to see, for in this way alone can she feel freed from guilt in regard to her sexual denial towards her husband. Yet she still has the inner conviction that, given his choice, Hank would still prefer to be enjoying sexual relations with her. It is only when she sees that when he does have the choice, he decides on the other woman that she reacts and, in Hank's words, "comes alive!"
"Dave's party turned out to be a typical city party. Too much booze, an excess of rich food, and enough cigarette smoke to make my lungs think I'd started the habit again.
"If it wasn't for the promise of some real fun later, I'd have grabbed Nedra and left. All those ice cubes rattling in that amber firewater made me want to gag as I sipped a glass of ginger ale. Diet ginger ale, at that. I was still weak at the .sight of so many people puffing away on those cigarettes, and if it wasn't for the fact that Nedra had quit also out of sympathy I don't think I could have stood it. At least we had each other to encourage.
"But on the other side I'd managed to drop eighteen pounds already, and I hadn't touched a drop of anything alcoholic. Oh, I'd broken down and taken a few cigarettes the first week, but the combination of Nedra's quitting and a particularly graphic article I happened to read in the paper put a quick stop to that.
"I nursed my drink and began to look around at the women. They all looked damn good. Of course, most all women were looking damn good to me at that point. But there weren't any prettier than my wife. I noticed a few other men checking her out, and I hoped they wouldn't be too disappointed with what they found themselves with. I had the idea, right or wrong, that Nedra had it in her mind to fake it a little, when the time came for some action. She knew she'd never be able to keep up a farce with one man all the time, but I was pretty sure she felt she could handle it with a one shot situation. She had done it with other men, those who insisted on a little sex before getting overly serious about marriage, and it wasn't until it became a regular thing that they discovered the truth.
"The party thinned out until there were a dozen or so couples left. Then Dave got up on a chair to speak. He was pretty drunk, and he nearly fell during his speech.
"I have here a slip-a hatful of slips of paper with the license numbers of everyone's cars. Each of the ladies gets to pick a slip. Then she gets to go-to go downstairs and find the car with the number they selected. Just go right on in that car, girls, and your prince will come and take you away from all this.' He steadied himself on the bare shoulder of an attractive brunette. "Come and get 'em!"
"While the women stepped forward and took a slip of paper I could hardly bring myself to look at Nedra. I was feeling a little ashamed of being there about then, and a little angry, too. I hadn't played games of this kind since I was a snot-nosed kid, and I liked a more mature way of choosing a woman.
"But after a few minutes I began to cool off. Shit, if I'd been belting them down all evening as everyone else had, this would probably look like fun. It was democratic, anyway, and I decided that I was being too stuffy. I noticed Nedra take a number and start out the door, her beautiful face calm but unreadable.
"After the women were all gone, the guys began to tell off-color stories and help themselves to a final drink.
"Don't get drunk. The life you save might be my wife's. . . ."
"No, I mean it. Let the market take a few more dives like that and I'll be looking for my own window. . . ."
". . . So the guy says "not with my wife, you don't!" I told him he'd sure come to the wrong party. . . ."
"I finished off my ginger ale and wished I could believe it had been a double scotch. Finally everyone started drifting off and I hung back. My mind kept going from a curiosity of who I might end up with to a low key curiosity about the man Nedra would draw. Finally I settled on a light daydream about the woman I would spend the next few hours with.
"The good-looking brunette was waiting in my car. She was curled up in a corner smoking a cigarette and her heels were neatly resting on my dashboard while her stockinged feet were wriggling on my seat. "The damn things hurt," she complained as she moved her feet to make room for me.
"She had a very sexy voice, and the rest of her was nice, too. I could feel my cock begin to swell. "Where to?" I asked, not exactly sure how these things were supposed to progress.
"She shrugged and smiled. "I don't care. Your place or a hotel or something. It's up to the man to provide the nest, lover.' She scooted over on the seat until she was very close and I could smell her musky perfume. I liked it.
"We checked into a hotel I sometimes used, and I was glad when she refused my offer of a drink. I didn't like my women drunk and I didn't think I could face another ginger ale.
"She wanted to play, but she didn't want to waste any time, either. Some women love kissing, and others like a man to get a little more into it for the warm-up. I undressed her and myself, and she immediately suggested we 'have some real fun.' I got on my knees while she stood there and I slowly began to run my tongue up her delicious dark slit. She sighed and began to run her fingers through my hair. I found her clitoris and flicked my tongue over it several times before darting lower and shoving it playfully in her snatch. I licked her a few minutes longer and then we got on the bed. Paula turned out to know what to do with a cock, and we sixty-nined for a while. She was hot and responsive, and I loved the way she moaned and trembled as I ate her. My prick got so hard it hurt, and when we got down to some serious fucking we were both as ready for it as some kids out on their first heavy date.
"Paula had done a lot of fucking in her thirty or so years, and she moved her sleek hips like a pro. She knew how to provoke a man, yet keep him from tumbling over the edge, and I thought my nuts were going to fall off by the time I finally made it. She had had herself a couple of orgasms by then, and she took a quick shower while I rested up.
"I like a man who knows how to use his tongue," she said, tossing the towel on the rug. She was slim but tall, with nice tits and a cute little-girl cunt. I brushed aside her dark curls and really began to lick that cunt. It was so nice to be with a woman who could appreciate it that I really went to town on her. I used my fingers as well as my tongue, and when she jerked her legs up in the air I took one look at her dimpled asshole and gave that a passionate tongue-fucking too. She loved it and kept me back there for a while, and to show her appreciation she got down on the bed and gave my cock a terrific sucking. Then, just for the hell of it, she licked her way over my balls and tongued my asshole, too. By the time we got to fucking, I was all set to go. One thing about giving up smoking-it does improve the old breathing.
"By the time I got home Nedra was in bed. I took a long shower and climbed in next to her. I don't know what I expected. Something. But she was the same as ever. I mean exactly the same. No how-was-it or anything. I was all set to talk to her about it, but her attitude was so casual as she mentioned some problem with her son she wanted my advice about.
"I didn't know how I felt about the whole sex swapping thing. I'd enjoyed it, sure. I watched for Nedra's reaction when I told her Art and his wife Harriet had asked us over for 'drinks' the following Thursday. Art and Harriet were famous for their more intimate swapping-if that's the word for it. They didn't go much for the big party mob scenes, and liked to invite an attractive couple over for a sedate swap. I was especially flattered because Harriet was the power behind that family, and she did most of the choosing. Harriet was a little strawberry blonde like Elaine, but she was an ex-model who got by strictly on her own looks. She was the type of woman who gave you a hard on while you talked to her on the goddamned phone! In a sterile business suit she had tits that begged to be sucked on, and I'd been more than a little excited by her for months. There was no way I wanted to turn down that invitation, and I was glad when Nedra offered no objection.
"They knew I was on the wagon and offered me coffee instead. Anything would have been fine as long as I was having it with Harriet. She kept eying me as she drank, and I was beginning to like this swapping bit more and more.
"I was so stimulated by my hostess that I didn't notice the tension in the air right away. Art was drinking very heavily, and when I became aware that something was wrong I got the idea that the couple had been battling before we arrived. They were covering it up now, but I watched Art get drunk. He began paying attention to Nedra, though, so I felt free to start approaching Harriet. She was all for it, and we sat very close together and teased each other a little. I followed her into the small sunken den to see a recently acquired original print done by an artist we both admired, and once there I pulled her into my arms. She laughed and moistened her lips with her pink pointed tongue before letting me kiss her. She tasted good and I kissed her again. Her mouth was so hot and alive that she might as well have had it on my cock as my lips. I pressed it against her as we kissed again. She was instantly responsive, that way I'd have given anything to have my wife be to my overtures.
"We went back to the living room arm in arm, and I was content, because I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd be in the bedroom. We made enough noise to warn Nedra and Art of our approach.
"It wasn't necessary, though. As it turned out only Nedra could have heard. Art was out cold, sitting up in the chair, a drunken snore distorting his lips. Nedra, looking composed but uncomfortable, was glancing through a magazine.
"There would be no point in denying the fact that I was disappointed. But Harriet wasn't one to give up so easily. She motioned for us to come into the den, and she patted the couch for us to sit down. Then she went off and freshened Nedra's drink and to bring me some fresh coffee. "Damn the coffee," I told her. "Isn't there some way to breathe some life back into Art?"
"She laughed. "I doubt it, at this point. But that doesn't mean the evening has to be over, does it?" She kissed me slowly on the mouth.
"I returned the kiss, realizing she was right. Righter than she knew, because Nedra wouldn't mind in the least that her date passed out. I slipped my tongue into Harriet's sexy mouth and pulled her tightly to me. She knew how to kiss.
"I didn't seem to care that Nedra was watching us with slitted cat eyes. Maybe it was a little hostility seeping out. Maybe I wanted her to see how other women acted with me. But since Harriet didn't mind at all, I began letting my hands roam all over her, from her luscious tits to that sweet little ass of hers. And all the time we kept the kiss going, and again my cock responded like there was an invisible string on it, yanking it to attention.
"When finally we turned back to Nedra it was like looking at an entirely different woman. Her deep blue eyes were strangely alert and there was color in her usually pale cheeks.
"Harriet sat back on the couch to finish her drink, and Nedra got up to add a little soda to hers. When she sat down again, it was on the other side of me. I felt the heat from her body as she settled especially close to me.
"The next fifteen minutes were the strangest of my entire life. If I hadn't known my wife's disinterest in sex I'd have sworn she was attempting to drag my sexual interest away from Harriet and on to herself. Harriet obviously accepted that as being the case, and finally she yawned and suggested that the three of us get into the bed together.
"Which is exactly what happened. I found myself between those two fantastically gorgeous women, all of us naked, and there wasn't enough either of them could do to please and excite me. Only Nedra wasn't Nedra. Rather, she wasn't the cool, frigid woman I'd married, the ice-maiden I'd tried so frequently to awaken. She was a moaning, sensual, whole woman now. Somehow she had changed. In my arms she came alive as never before, and I kissed and loved her as if we'd never made it together before.
"Harriet wanted attention, too, and I lapped ecstatically at her lovely cunt while my wife sucked on my heavy cock. She made little animal sounds in her throat, and I ate Harriet with more feeling than I'd guessed I'd had in me. No one was in the least inhibited, partially because of the drinks they'd consumed during the evening, and partially because we were all so hot. It was exactly like being with two new women at the same time, and I outdid myself. I pressed my face to Nedra's blonde pussy and ate it wildly, sucking on her clit and finger-fucking her at the same time, and going crazy from the way she was reacting from everything I was doing to her. It was like some great dam had burst, and at last she was mine! I was sucking her clit when she came that first time, and afterwards I lapped up every precious drop of her juice and wanted to start eating her all over again.
"Harriet must have thought we were crazy, the way we were so hot for each other. The whole swap thing was because most couples were a little bored with each other. But Harriet was a real trouper-though she made it plain she didn't understand what was going on, she settled for doing what she could to make it even better for us. She licked my asshole while I sixty-nined with my wife, and she even shoved a finger up Nedra's pretty pink asshole to heighten her pleasure. Then, while I finally fucked my wife, Harriet sat on my face so that I could eat her cunt and she could suck Nedra's tits while she straddled my cock. If there was anything we didn't do that night it was because no one thought of it.
"Art awakened after about an hour and a half, and, though surprised to see the three of us in bed together, he gamely joined in, and I watched him fuck my wife twice until he finally fell into an authentic sleep. It roused me enough to fuck Harriet who was feeling a little neglected, and then all I had the strength for was to dress, help Nedra into her things, and drive us home.
"We were too exhausted to even talk that night, but I stayed home from work the next day and we did much more than talk. Nedra couldn't explain what had happened to her the night before, but neither of us cared about the reasons. We were too busy enjoying ourselves.
"Later on we talked about the possibility of going to other swinging parties. As it turned out we thought we might, but much later on, if ever we got bored with each other.
"And that didn't look like it would be for a very long time."
In the two years which have elapsed since this couple's experiment with mate-swapping, there has been no desire to repeat the experience, though both claim that should they feel the desire or need they would not hesitate.
Nedra believes that the extreme stimulation of the wife-swapping concept fired her latent sexuality, though she doesn't recall feeling especially stimulated on the first occasion when she was not exposed to her husband actively making love to another woman. But certainly the competitive sexuality of the second experience played a part in urging Nedra to activating her erotic nature, and the result was a decisive change for the better in a relationship which was, otherwise, likely headed for the divorce court.
CHAPTER FIVE - Sharing the Assets . . .
"If there's anything I've never been able to understand, it's the way some couples can't get together about what they want in life. I mean, there's a lot of people out there just trying to work you over, right? So why spend your life with someone like that? In this world you need a friend, baby.
"My first marriage was like that. I was married to this bastard who was going nowhere fast, and, wow, he wanted me to go there first to see if it was safe for him to follow! There isn't a chick alive who needs that action, and I dumped that dude just as soon as I got hip to where we were at.
"Like a lot of people of my generation I was a little mixed up about what I wanted from the world. At first I thought it was love and the simple life, and I was all for the jug, loaf of bread and thou stuff. I wanted to make love on water beds, live in lofts, and travel with a knapsack and bedroll. I thought life with Jack was going to be one big blast, and, for a while, it was.
"I married Jack when I was eighteen, after we'd been living together a few months. He was tall and blond and bearded, and I was his cute little hippy chick with cosmo-curled little orphan Annie hair. You know the type. You see them all over. Only we didn't know that. We thought we were original, see. Only we weren't, and we also got hungry and dirty and back-achey from all that free living. So eventually I wanted to, you know, settle down, sort of, and Jack wasn't having any.
"I'd have left him then, only we had so much fun together. In bed, mostly, or whatever passed for bed. Sex was nice, real nice, and we could pass hours and hours that way with no trouble at all.
"The break came when this guy offered me a job working for this straight stockbroker, and the money sounded nice. Jack gave me a little static, but at the time we were staying with his brother and his wife, and we were down to pennies. I toned down my hairstyle, borrowed some straight clothes and heels, and there I was, looking at myself in the mirror as if I didn't even know who I was! Jack cracked up, but I didn't. I was too busy looking at a damn cute little brunette with big eyes, a fine little bod and a ready for anything smile.
"It took me about a week to decide I didn't like supporting Jack, and another month to get rid of him. A year later I was a legally free woman with an apartment, wardrobe and life of my own. I was really grooving on my independence when I met Vern. He was a handsome young man working for one of the big brokers. Vern was obviously on his way up, and he appreciated the nice things in life as I was beginning to. And, best of all, under that straight exterior and short haircut was a genuine free spirit. Vern was ambitious and he was smart, and he always knew what was important and what was bullshit.
"I thought we were just going to have a big sex thing at first. You know how it is when you meet someone who really turns you on? One glance and you really know everything that comes before bed is a waste of time. That's the way it was on our first date, and finally Vern threw down his napkin in the middle of the dinner we were both playing with while doing our own version of Tom Jones. "Balls," he muttered, grabbing the bill, "let's get out of here."
"We went to his place because it was closer. Even so we were nearly into it in the cab, because every second we had to wait was painful. His hands were inside my bra and panties before we'd gone a mile, and I had my hand coiled around his stiff prick by the time he finished paying the driver. I didn't even notice what his place looked like until afterwards-we didn't bother with the lights.
"It was like when you're a kid and you really want it bad, you know? My cunt was aching and so wet I could have taken on a dozen cocks, one after the other. I just wanted Vern, though, and I was glad we had all night.
"His cock was something else. He was hung like an old maid's dream, easily a good eight inches, and as thick around as any man I'd ever been with. He made me think of Jack as some kid I'd been masturbating with all that time. But it wasn't just the size of him that got to me-he knew how to use that crowbar of his.
"When I get hot I like a man who knows how to fuck. Oh, I love having my cunt eaten, and I'm also pretty good when it comes to giving a blow job. But it's deep, hard fucking that sends me up walls, and that's just what Vern gave me. He did something no one's ever done to me before. He maneuvered me up against the wall as soon as we got in his apartment, locked his lips and tongue to mine, and lifted my skirt. I helped him shove my panties out of the way and then I felt his pants slide to the floor. By grabbing one leg and hooking it around his leg he was able to get his dick into me that way, standing up. It was wild and crazy, something a pair of sex-starved teenagers might attempt, but Vern knew what he was doing. He used his strong body and the wall to pin me while he drilled me with his wonderful cock, and I thought I'd die from the sheer pleasure of it. He came quickly, as much urged on by the difficulty of our position as by the good feeling. He shot off into me just as I felt my muscles contract with my own come.
"He picked me up and carried me to the bed.
We threw off our clothing and fell into each other's arms, and we were ready to go again. He sucked my nipples while I wrapped my legs around his trunk. I played with his gigantic cock and began to tease it with my tongue. I didn't think I could get much of it in my mouth, but Vern playfully held me down and made me take it, and before long I was sucking him like I'd been practicing on Coke bottles all my life. His balls were big and sensitive, and I tickled and rubbed them as I mouthed his dick. Meanwhile he was moving me around so that he could use his long tongue on my pussy. He did it nicely, licking my love button while his strong fingers played in my hole. We had a fine time exciting each other, and finally he got up on top of me and really began to give me a terrific fucking. Standing up, I hadn't been able to take much of him inside me, but stretched out on the bed with my heels over Vern's shoulders I was getting my first real taste of that magnificent prick. I moaned as it plowed into me, yet I couldn't help pointing one toe at the ceiling, encouraging him to shove that whole thing into me. It was so big and so thick that I turned into a pool of jelly under him, whimpering and crying a little, not hurting but not knowing how to deal with the unrelenting waves of pleasure, either. It was something else!
"Vern must have liked it from where he was, too, because he kept playing with my tits and groaning and slamming his dick in and out of me. At one point he pulled out of me and ducked down and ate my pussy for a few minutes, then straightened up and fed an inch or two of his prick to my cunt. He ran that inch in and out of me, and the short thickness of his cock head drove me nuts. I went crazy for him to push it all the way in.
"Oh, Vern, damn it! Shove that thing all the way up me! Fuck me, Vern! Ooh, baby, you do it so good. . . . So-o-o good.. . ."
"But he kept teasing me so I decided to give him a little of his own medicine. I tightened my cunt muscles and began to milk his cock with them, clutching the head and squeezing, then contracting and relaxing the muscles so that Vern felt as if a slippery little toothless mouth was nibbling on his prick!
"Then it was his turn to moan. His control trip shot to hell, Vern began to plunge that weapon of his in and out of my cunt all the way. It was so big, and I was so tight, I could feel myself being pulled and pushed with each stroke, and my nipples got like rocks and I was coming almost without knowing it. When he came it was so big for him, so explosive, that I thought he'd rip me in half. Totally wiped out, we held on to each other as his cock deflated like a balloon which had been pricked.
"It wasn't over for either of us. But we needed a little pause about then. So we started talking. It turned out we had as much in common in our feelings about life and what we wanted out of it as we were on the same level in bed. Vern told me his plan for making it big in the Market, and I knew he'd do it. He was as practical as I was about what a person had to do to get his ends, and he was as little up tight as I was about doing whatever came naturally and felt good. We carried our conversation to the bathroom where we had a hot, soapy bath together, and then we got too hot to talk anymore.
"We were married three months later, and as proof of our lack of conventional hang-ups, we met a far-out couple in a bar on the last day of our honeymoon and ended up going to their motel with them. The wife, a short, chubby but cute red-head named Sylvia, loved big cocks, and somehow the conversation got around to that. She whipped out her husband Carl's dick which was damn nice, and in a playful mood, I one-upped her by unzipping Vern. Sylvia went ape over Vern's larger joint, and after another drink
Sylvia began to lick and suck cn Vern. The bit got me hotter than hell, and when Carl asked me to do the same thing to him I agreed.
"It was a wild night! The thrill of sucking and fucking and being cunt-lapped by a strange guy was magnified once by watching another couple do the same thing, and a second time by seeing Vern making it with another chick. We all ended up on the bed in a big, naked heap, and it got to the point where no one knew whose prick or cunt they were working over. I ended up eating my first pussy that night, and from the way Sylvia worked her tongue in and out of me, I got the idea that she was an old hand at it. I even found it exciting to watch Vern and Carl end up in a hot sixty-nine, and afterwards we all fucked our brains out. That was one honeymoon to remember, believe me. . . .
"Life went on pretty much the same for the next year or so. We did the proper thing where it showed-went to all the parties and were the perfect young couple, and all the while we were living our own lives and doing what we wanted, and generally having a ball. Vern was getting in tight with his boss, Walter J. B--. We used to laugh at the conservative image we presented whenever old Walter and his fine looking wife would come over for dinner. If they only knew---
"But, as it turned out, they couldn't have ever been as surprised as we were when Walter told Vern that he and his wife would love to extend our socializing to a little wife-swapping. . . ."
In a frank perusal of sexuality which goes beyond the one-to-one marital encounter, we must sooner or later see evidence of the individuals who reveal no hint of inhibition or guilt. A society which has reversed the pendulum swing from Victorianism to a nearly complete sexual liberation will eventually breed a generation of unblocked sensualists. In many ways Vern and Gina could be called first-generation by-products of concentrated effort to overcome the vast sexual prejudice of former ages. Albert Ellis contends that Americans are fearful of sex, to the point where we have our sexual cake, but we don't really eat it-or we gulp it down in such a manner as to bring on acute indigestion.
Until very recently our culture was indeed at that point. We intellectually acknowledged that sex was to be enjoyed, was a healthy, normal outlet, and should be indulged in to the discretion of the individual, without guilt, fear or insecurity-yet we could not accept that at a deeper level, a "gut" level. Society had reached a plateau where sex could be freely discussed in mixed company and in all aspects, yet the acting out of what could be easily discussed would still generate the negative emotions, the fears, doubts and guilts. This generation, in Its do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do fashion, has, however, attempted to be very careful to suppress these negatives, and has worked overtime to refrain from passing them on to their offspring. This overcompensation produces a mixed and uncertain reaction. If our children do not participate freely we fear that we have somehow passed on our inhibitions and fears, and if they do, we may well experience an emotion akin to depression or disappointment because they, though liberated and "normal," didn't "choose" to forego the "acting out" part of the free sexual platform. It is no wonder the kewpie doll with its sexless appeal was the darling of a less introspective America.
Our double-level approach to sex is so deeply ingrained that we must be reminded continually to reject our conditioned taboos. Because of this books as blunt as the best-selling The Sensuous Woman by (again a testimony to the abovementioned double-level approach) "J," can openly give counsel on whether or not to orgy, and find the need to add:
If it turns out you love orgies, don't let guilt feelings spoil them for you. As an adult you have every right and responsibility to find a satisfactory sex life for yourself.
"J" is directing her words to an essentially mature audience. For the most part those under thirty no longer need such a reminder. Like Gina and Vern, they are comfortable with the self concept of sexual flexibility.
Gina enjoys sex. She doesn't bother to theorize on the moral, legal, ethical side of her sensual adventures, nor is she especially romantic, not even in an interior way. Jealousy, competitiveness and insecurity don't enter the picture, either, and there is no morbid dwelling on the possibility that her husband may react more strongly to the other woman. She has no guilt or self-doubts when she finds herself engaged in a homosexual act, and none when she watches her husband fellate, and be fellated by, another man. She is concerned far more with the fact that both enjoy themselves fully, to the extent where she acknowledges that her own excitement was increased in part by the knowledge that her husband was one of the couple she was watching.
On the other hand, she is very concerned and feels the need to rationalize her interest in swapping with her husband's boss and his wife, but her concern never touches on the sexual-moral issue. Instead, in the second part of her narrative, Gina rationalizes because she knows her interest in the older couple isn't merely sexual-it is the getting-something-for-this aspect which puts her on the defensive. There can be no doubt that the only reason she needs for the sex is desire, but somewhere in the process of her maturation she has absorbed the purity-non-materialism mystique, and this confusion lends the only guilt-doubt-confusion aspect to her narrative. She prefaces her story of her swapping experiences with an explanation of how she used to believe she wanted a non-materialistic existence, and she explains her change of values. Yet still she refers to this other side of herself in various ways, such as the non-conformity aspect of herself, her present husband and their lives together, and through this it must become obvious that Gina's "freedom" or "enlightenment" is limited, though her limitations may reflect other cultural taboos than sex.
Even so, it is difficult to see how the swapping habits of Gina and Vern will have any disastrous effects on their lives or their marriages.
"I guess we're all snobs in one way or the other, and I'm a snob about the age and sex thing. I mean, who would have expected old Walter to be interested in more than my soup, or the slightly ass-kissy way we treated him when he came to our place? When Vern told me they were itching to try a little wife-swapping I couldn't help cracking up. Vern did, too, and for hours we'd think of catchy little phrases like 'sex or souffl'?', laughing like idiots as we'd imagine saying it straight-faced at our next dinner party. Then we got serious.
"Actually," Vern began, "it might not be such a bad idea. It might give me the edge I need with the old bastard. He could do me a lot of good, and I wouldn't mind giving him reason to want to."
"I thought about it and realized Vern was right. If I gave the old tiger an especially fine old time, he might be especially grateful.
"It wouldn't be misusing him, either, not if he knew what he was getting into and not if the idea was his. Besides, it's the smart people in this world who know when to recognize an opportunity when it comes along.
"There was nothing wrong either in wanting to get somewhere or have nice things, I reminded myself. Why should using sex as a means to an end be so terrible? While I knew what my first husband and people like him would think, I decided that they could go piss up a rope. They didn't pay my bills.
"Anyway, we found ourselves with an invitation to the townhouse we'd always wanted to see, and though the invitation didn't say anything about a private little swap party after dinner, it was scheduled as the main event. We got there right on time, and I was looking my sexiest. I wanted the old bastard to foam at the mouth all during dinner, and from the way he looked at me when he greeted us, I knew he would.
"Krista, his wife, loved my form-fitting white splurge of a dress, and she didn't look bad, either. Though she was at least forty, she had that ripe, full look of a female who has only recently come into her own. I had her pegged as a little rich girl who did everything that was proper and felt next to nothing, but then reached maybe thirty-five or so and began to notice just how good some things felt. Like sex, for instance. Walter, her husband, was a different story. He couldn't have been much over fifty, but he was getting old, one of the busy business types who were old at forty.
Now that he had proved himself to the world and himself by boosting the family fortune another notch, he was ready to make up for some of the fun he'd missed. He'd been smart enough to marry a younger woman who could only improve with age, but the pair of them looked as if they'd exhausted all the pleasure they found in each other. They heard about all the swinging going on and wanted a little, especially since it was going on among their group. I kind of figured that, for the first time, they wanted a younger couple who wouldn't be in a position to put them down if they were a little awkward or maybe didn't hold it together.
"Whatever their trip was, I was all ready for whatever they were up for. I liked the house and the old man didn't look half bad to me, and I knew Vern would enjoy making it with Krista. I even sort of hoped we could all make it together, like with that couple on our honeymoon, but I didn't kid myself into thinking there was much chance for that. I also knew we'd have to be the ones to start things happening.
"I got it going first. After dinner I sat next to Walter and hung on his every word, taking care to see to it that we were close enough for him to smell my perfume and feel the pressure of my hip and thigh. He couldn't take his eyes off me. On the other side of the room Vern was gazing into Krista's eyes over a cocktail glass.
"Before long I got the feeling we could go on like that all night long, like some old time drawing room comedy skit. So I took Walter's hand and discreetly suggested we go somewhere. "I'd love to see your . . . house."
"They watched us go, and we headed directly for a bedroom. It was up a short flight of stairs, and all the way up Walter kept touching my ass and commenting on my legs and bumping into me as I slowly climbed, wriggling my butt and giving him every reason to get horny. When I got to the top step he surprised me by reaching under my dress and giving my pussy a quick rub. That turned me on so much I stopped short and spread my legs a little. "Um, that feels good, Walter. Heavenly. . . ."
"Encouraged, he slipped his short, blunt finger into the crotch Of my panties and ran it into my cunt all the way. I squirmed on it a little, and we were both breathing hard and ready to hit the bedroom.
"Once there Walter cooled it a little. Face to face with me he seemed to realize that he actually was with another female, not just indulging in a little fantasy. He didn't seem to know what to do, even though he'd had his finger all the way into me minutes before, and I was obviously ready for anything.
"I decided to start him off. "That felt so good, what you did to me in the hall. So sexy, with me with all these clothes on. . . .' I sat down in the lovely old-fashioned canopy bed. Sighing, I let my body fall back and relax, and I closed my eyes. "Do it again, will you? Just slip your finger into me, just like you did before. . . ."
"His hand trembled on my leg as he sat down next to me. Without a word he reached under the dress and touched my pussy. The material of my panties gave easily as he groped for my hole, and I began moaning and moving against that finger. "You don't know how good that feels, Walter. . . . Ooh, and when you rub my clit like that. . . ."
"That did it for him. The old bastard got so hot I thought he'd have a stroke. He threw my dress back and pulled off my panties, and the next thing I knew he was eating my pussy for all he was worth, sucking and snorting like an animal, and for a minute there I was afraid he really was going to take a bite of it. He did it kind of like he thought it was something of a dirty or nasty act, like he was doing it because he had to, he was so hot, and the idea that he had about it made it dirty. You know what I mean? I'd been sucked by most of the men I've ever gone to bed with, and it's always been fine, but old Walter was sucking and lapping like the original old man, and suddenly I caught his mood and was perversely digging it. It was like I was a whore who was playing her customer's game for him, but I dug it because he was so into it. I pushed him away and helped seat him on the bed. Then, allowing my dress to remain up around my waist, I got on my knees and opened his fly. I knew his eyes were eating up my naked ass as I began to suck his cock, but he. didn't touch me. He just moaned and went crazy from my cock sucking, and when he was really into it I got up, turned around, got on top of him in a sixty-nine position so that he could lick my pussy while I ate his dick.
"I was so caught up in the mood he'd set that I wasn't paying attention to the signals his body was putting out. He came a second after he began lapping at my cunt, and I had a mouthful of stuff before I was nearly ready for it.
"He really surprised me, though. Instead of shrinking down to nothing and losing interest, that old fucker held his erection! His prick, which wasn't too big or anything spectacular, managed to keep its hard! I gave it a little suck after I'd swallowed his come, and he pulled away because he was so sensitive, yet he was as stiff as a poker.
"We got naked then, and Walter raved on and on about my body and especially my cunt. He kissed it and fondled my tits, and then he took off the rest of his clothing and asked me to play with his dick while I sucked and licked his balls.
"He was pretty tight for a man of his age, and I had a great time lapping at his hanging balls, especially with that prick of his as stiff as ever. I had much more respect for the old guy by then, and when he asked me if I'd come over to the chair and sit on his lap, I was happy to comply. I straddled him, face to face, and his dick felt nice sliding into my juicy hole. I was damn hot after all that fooling around, and nothing beats a good fuck.
"I liked fucking that way, anyway, and I mostly liked having so much control of our movements. I now knew how quickly and without warning he could come, so I made sure I came as fast as possible. It was a nice, hard orgasm, and after I calmed down I didn't mind so much that he came two strokes later. I was sorry, though, to feel him finally shrivel up inside me.
"He smoked a cigar while I got on my knees and busied myself with licking and kissing his tired old prick. I'm pretty good at getting a guy hard with my mouth, especially after he's just fucked his brains out. But Walter was finally showing his age. I sucked him with everything I had, but he didn't even swell a little. I took each of his balls into my mouth and sucked them, I ran my tongue over his tiny nipples, and finally I even tickled his asshole with my fingertip while I sucked him. I told him how much I loved his cock, and how good it had felt, but I still couldn't get anywhere. He liked it all, though, and I began to think of how nice it would be to get the four of us together for a little orgy fun. I'd told Vern ahead of time to let me feel Walter out about getting together.
"You know, Walter, the hottest I ever got in my entire life was once when I watched Vern make love to another girl. It's so sexy to watch someone you love be happy that way. So sexy," I told him between nibbles on his cock.
"Wouldn't you like to see Krista with another man? I mean, if you knew they were together and all?" "
"He hesitated, then admitted it would probably be stimulating. From that point on it was like eating pie. He had half a hard on as we walked naked through the hall way to another bedroom. We pushed open the door and stepped inside.
"Vern was on his back on the bed, and Krista was sitting right on his face. Her back was to us and she was bouncing around on his mouth and tongue like crazy. Vern's huge dick was standing up, jabbing at the air, and his hands were running up and down her smooth back and pretty pink ass.
"Walter took my hand and put it on his cock, and let me tell you, that thing was as hard as a bar of steel. Pleased, I walked us over to the bed and reached out and shoved one finger right in Krista's light haired cunt. It was just sticking out, and I knew how good it felt to ride a finger when you have a tongue inside you. She was soft and slimy and hot up there, and her cunt muscles grabbed at my finger and sucked at it like a hungry baby. She was so slippery down there and so relaxed that I knew she'd already had Vern's wonderful cock up her at least once.
"Walter went crazy when he saw me finger-fuck his old lady. He spread my legs and started licking me from the rear, and his big tongue went all the way from my clit to my asshole. By then Vern and Krista were watching us with eager expressions, and Krista, after a moment's shocked hesitation, got busy moving on my finger.
"Vern pulled away and suggested Krista sit on my face a while, and from the way Walter sucked my hard clit when he heard that, I knew I'd make a few points there all the way around. Besides, I had eyes for Krista's sweet twat the moment I walked into the room and saw it. I got onto the bed, taking Vern's place, and Krista settled majestically over my face. She tasted of come and perfume, and I licked her completely, using my hands to open her up all-the way. It was wild! My doing it to her made her come right away, and the next thing I knew Walter, with Vern's help, had lifted my hips and was pushing into my asshole with his bone. I squirmed a little since they hadn't bothered to grease his dick and my ass was pretty dry, but he managed to work it into me, and I came as soon as he got it all the way inside. I was ecstatic, my face buried in pussy, a cock up my asshole, and then the cunt I was licking began to be fucked by Vern's tool, and the balls were swinging against my jaw. I came again almost immediately.
"We began to get together, the four of us, regularly after that. . . ."
The intensified stimulation of the swapping, the voyeurism, the exhibitionism and the varied erotic acts effectively added new and unquestionable depths to the sexual lives of Vern and his wife as well as Walter and Krista. The older couple, married over twenty years, had reached a point where their sexual interest had climbed while their ability to stimulate each other had waned from sheer repetition. With the addition of another couple, it is possible that their own ability to excite each other privately will rapidly accelerate. They run little risk of upsetting their marriage, as there is practically no chance of a romantic attachment to form when sex is conducted in the orgy form preferred by these couples. Encouraged by these sessions, Walter found his ability to last in the sexual act increased, and with it Krista was able to find more pleasure.
For Gina and Vern, swapping offers no new threat to the relationship at all, from an emotional or sexual standpoint. Until it loses its ability to stimulate the young couple beyond ordinary marital sex (should such a time ever come), it is likely that Vern and Gina will remain permanent swingers. It is improbable they will ever experience the boredom of hidden desire which undermines many marriages, since they never risk connubial ennui nor repression. But it should be stressed that Gina and Vern are products of an unusual age, and they suffer few of the conscience pangs rampant in the rest of society.
CONCLUSION
In the five case histories given, one factor above all others emerges and must be considered when examining the subject of swapping-each person carries into the act his own needs and expectations.
We are, in many respects, a pampered and weary society. Even our poor generally live with more excitement and stimulation in a month than an individual may experience in a year in other societies. The select affluent exist in an environment constantly pandering to their appetites for variety. Economics alone coax them to cast off the old and pursue the new, and when an item loses its novelty it becomes a candidate for the garbage heap.
When confronted by a situation which has lost its novelty appeal but cannot be shrugged off so thoughtlessly, like the infinitely complex institution called marriage, the affluent are faced with a dilemma. Men who control such power structures as Wall Street are perfectly free to indulge all recreational tastes, and, in one way, this includes their sexual appetite. Prostitution has been called the oldest profession, and the affluent have long been utilizing this uncomplicated means for sexual stimulation. But this one-sided and regulated sexuality brings the side effects of guilt, risk and dissatisfaction, since the prostitute's response is insincere, and therefore limited.
Mate swapping comes closer toward providing true variety and stimulation than any form of prostitution, and it offers the added touch of something being able to restore life to a withering union. "J" comments on this factor in The Sensuous Woman:
The people who attend sex parties are there not because of romantic hungers but because their sexual drives need revitalization. New sexual partners give these people the sensual thrills and gratification they long for. Husbands and wives say orgies also have a salutary effect on day-to-day sex, as the excitement of an orgy carried over into regular lovemaking for several days or weeks afterward.
Certainly most people enter into swapping with the expectation that their marriage will not only remain intact, but that it will indeed be revitalized. They want to maintain the marriage. If they did not, they couldn't find a sexual situation where they participate as mates appealing. Entering a swapping relationship, they clearly announce that they are anticipating sexual stimulation, but not new non-sexual partnership. They make this announcement by arriving as a pair, and, in spite of the sex play, withdrawing as a pair. The fact that both husband and wife are engaging in this activity together diminishes the chance of guilt and insecurity afterwards, and since the hope ideally, is to strengthen the marital bonds rather than weaken them, by providing excitement and novelty without going completely separate ways, adultery in the form of mate-swapping is sometimes regarded as a pro-marriage activity in potential.
However, mainly because it is bred into this society to think of unconventional sex as deviant sex, the mere fact of engaging in swapping sometimes produces its own doubts and fears. For most of the couples in this study there is a thread of relief when the swapping is discontinued, or a definite attempt to explain the pressures which pressed the couples into participation. Only in one of the five cases were both partners eager and natural about their involvement, and in that case the forms of sex indulged in were also enjoyed without reservation in spite of their diversity. In the case of Hank and Nedra the swapping prompted a sexual response in Nedra which resulted in the couple happily abandoning swapping in preference of marital sex. Adele, though reacting powerfully to the orgiastic swapping parties, is pushed into her participation by her lover, Reed. Julie uses it to titillate her lover Don. April and Charlotte swap mates in an effort to be as fascinating as the stock market and their husbands' exciting recreational toys. In each of these cases the stimuli was the hope of achieving a height of excitation unavailable to themselves by their own abilities. And, in four out of these five cases, in one way or another, the participant believed herself or himself to be engaged in a deviant, even perverse act, which often served to act as a still greater stimulant. Dr. Berne argues the point:
Since human beings are experimenters at heart, it should be understood that mere experimenting with unusual sexual activities is not perversion. Only when an unusual activity is consistently preferred to the conventional ones should it be called a perversion.
Mate swapping, as it is practiced by the bored and somewhat jaded affluent in our society, cannot be called a perversion, and while it is a deviant form of sex, its very deviance is contrived by the limitations of marriage, a union requiring a creature ordinarily far more monogamous than man. Dr. F. A. Beach and Dr. C. S. Ford, in Patterns of Sexual Behavior, emphasize this point:
An environment which is too interfering or restrictive with regard to sexual practice may be conducive to the development of sexual deviation.
Add to the marital environment in general the complication of affluence; surely the attraction and availability for sexual recreation in the form of swapping is intensified. It is ironic that when one considers the vast opportunity freedom from economic slavery affords the individual, we find it so often only prompting dissatisfaction and boredom. Galbraith comments that:
In recent times no problem has been more puzzling to thoughtful people than why . . . we make such poor use of our affluence.
But if swapping among the affluent seems a narrow pastime when larger stimulation might be found in non-sexual ventures, that might well be a lesser point than the one the French moralist Francois, Due de la Rochefoucauld, raises:
It is much easier to suppress a first desire than to satisfy those that follow.
For the real danger in swapping might not be the immediate effects of overcoming boredom, but the possibility of creating a larger boredom later on.
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