In a time in human history when values and institutions, long revered and held as constants throughout the development of our civilization, are being critically examined as to their true function in man's eternal struggle to discover the best of all possible worlds, it is difficult, and often dangerous, to hazard an opinion, much less a definite decision. And, yet, as author Taylor has shown in this compelling novel, such decisions are being approached and often firmly resolved, not by intellectuals or social misfits, but by the supposedly ordinary people who form the backbone of society as it is today.
A Reluctant Swap is the gripping story of two people, a young married couple, who find themselves forced to come to their personal moment of truth as they are torn between the conventional morality they have been taught and the reality of their own problems and desires. This is an eternal story of the struggle between the natural instincts of the human animal and the inhuman strictures imposed by the antiquated rules of society. The theme has been explored in other classic works, such as Madame Bovary and Lady Chatterly's Lover, and yet, we, the Publishers, feel that author Taylor has set a milestone in literary history by, not only creating a situation that can be relevant to every modern reader, but by showing for the first time that marriage is not necessarily damaged by the natural instincts of either or both parties.
The characters in this profound, psychological study are real, sympathetic, people who live in every area of contemporary society. The heroine, Leslie Stewart, is the personification of the romantic young newlywed-idealistic, in love, reaching for the stars, unwilling to accept the bitter knowledge that no man, or marriage, is an island. The idea of a "swap club" is repugnant to her and, yet, after painful disappointments and humiliations, she is forced to accept the realities of human nature. Her degradation is only begun as she views her husband's infidelity with her beautiful neighbor, and, in her wifely jealousy, she begins a sequence of events that are almost too obscene and horrifying for her young mind to grasp.
But, as can happen, and is happening throughout contemporary society, she at last comes to the startling realization that a marriage is created through mutual respect and understanding, and that sex is a vital, but mainly complementary, force. In essence, she and all the other characters in this long-awaited novel, have at last accepted the eternal nature of physical love-sexual activity need be no more momentous or emotionally involving than a conversation on the street, but can always be a source of infinite pleasure and personal fulfillment.
It is with great pride that we publish this important work and, like Leslie's husband, Mike Stewart, we are requesting that you consider his significant reflection: Can there ever be too much of a good thing?
-The Publishers
CHAPTER 1
It was winter in Pettsville, one of the worst on record, and everyone was complaining about the dry bitter cold. Judith Harrington was no exception. Little flurries of wind lifted the powdery snow from last night's storm and scattered them in the air, stinging her face as she stepped out of her car and saw that she would have to wade through thigh-high drifts to get from the driveway to the front door of her suburban home. She was sorry now that she had forgotten to hire someone to clear away a path. If only Mark, her husband, were not always away on business trips, she would not be alone and expected to handle such trivial matters.
Then she heard the metallic scrape of a shovel on the driveway next door. Turning, almost dropping her armload of packages, she saw a tall, lithe young man, a redhead, working furiously to clear Leslie Stewart's driveway. He was wearing a thin, tight-fitting shirt and no coat, and Judith could see how beautifully firm and lean he was.
"Hey, you're going to freeze to death," she called in a warm, friendly voice.
The handsome young redhead straightened up immediately and wheeled around to see who had hailed him. Despite the arctic-like weather, there were shiny beads of perspiration on his forehead and he was breathing heavily. He smiled back broadly at her, shaking his head from side to side to proudly deny that he was even cold.
"Nah, don't worry about me," he shouted over to Judith. "As hot as it was where I've been, this little chill spell is a real relief...to me, anyway. You see, I'm Mike Stewart, Leslie's husband, and I'm just back from Vietnam, And you must be Mrs. Harrington, the friend Leslie mentioned so many times in letters."
"I hope she didn't say anything bad about me," Judith returned. The thought of the swapping club had crossed her mind and she was in no position at present to let it be widely known that she was a member. She was certain that her husband would fly apart if he ever found out that she had been cheating behind his back, and enjoying every minute of it, while he was off on one of his frequent business trips.
"No, as a matter-of-fact, she thinks you're the greatest," Mike said as he walked through the snow towards her. "She's told me how you kept her company and helped out with good advice when she really needed it. I want you to know, I really appreciate all you've done...I mean it."
"Oh, what advice did she mention?" Judith asked, her fears increasing as she recalled how she had tried to persuade Leslie into fending off loneliness by joining the local group. She had explained how harmless it was, just a little sex between friends...But perhaps the silly young blonde, in all her innocence, had been foolish enough to tell her newly-returned husband how Judith had pointed out that sex was the easiest way in the world to remedy the melancholy that a wife often feels when her man is at war...or away on business. Maybe he knew and was just playing, toying with her, and would any second deliver an angry rebuke and say that she had no right to interfere-especially when that interference meant that his beautiful blonde wife would have been expected to willingly go to bed with another man. The worst of it was, if Leslie had told Mike, his anger would be all for nothing...because the silly little bitch had flatly refused Judith's offer to join the group...The young housewife had said something about not being "able to betray Mike that way...."
"Oh, nothing I can remember," Mike said in his deep masculine voice, still puffing a little as he hopped down from a snow bank and approached Judith, holding out his hand to shake. "I guess the most important thing of all was that she had you to talk to...someone sensible like you."
"Well, is that all!" Judith laughed, inwardly relieved as she realized that Mike Stewart had not been told a thing. And she was also relieved for another reason. Standing up close to him, she saw that this Mike Stewart was even more good-looking and sexy than she had thought at first glance. His chest was broad, his waist small, and his arms were deeply tanned and brawny, powerful with youth...and she could tell by the heavy bulge at the crotch of his snug-fitting jeans that he was hung like a bull. Lord, if Leslie should decide to come around and tell Mike about the group, there might just be a chance, Judith thought. The young Stewart couple would be excellent material and she knew well enough that fresh talent was always welcome...as long as the new-comers followed the rules.
"Yeah, that's all," he assured her after a moment. "Just plain old female talk...recipes...that kind of thing." He was obviously distracted himself by Judith's stunning appearance. He estimated her age to be about thirty, more or less...about ten years older than he and Leslie were. Even though Judith was bundled up in a winter coat, standing there holding an armload of packages, it was easy for him to tell that underneath everything the brunette was really ripe and voluptuous. Her full large breasts strained noticeably at the top buttons of the sleek fur garment she was wearing, threatening to pop them open and burst out into the freezing air. He wondered why Leslie had failed to mention that their next-door neighbor was such a luscious, well-built woman. Christ, he had thought the woman was some old biddy who had nothing better to do in life than bake cookies and talk about the past...not a hot-looking number like this!
"Is there something wrong?" Judith asked, smiling to herself. She knew that he was trying to guess how she looked naked...and probably how good a lay she was. His eyes were roving over her like hungry animals and he seemed totally unaware of the long silence between them. Well, she mused, he might have a chance to find out-and the sooner the better.
"No...no, nothing. I was just thinking that I ought to shovel out a path to your front door," he said, snapping back to the moment and realizing that she must have caught him staring. "I know your husband's away...Leslie told me...and I-I'd like to do you a favor...I mean, something to show how much I appreciate you...how you kept my wife company."
"That would be nice, Mike, but I can just as easily hire someone to do it...You should save your strength for more important things," she said with a little wink. She was both amused and excited by him ; she knew perfectly well why he was fumbling with words as they stood there in the driveway, their eyes exploring each other and sometimes meeting in long, meaningful looks that were like previews of what could happen if the circumstances were right. She was enjoying her momentary power over him and admitted to herself that she liked the idea of being able to arouse the virile young husband of a pretty, budding young thing like Leslie. It filled Judith with a special sense of her own appeal and for once she was not at all sorry that Mark was out of town...For that matter, she was glad!
"I'll be happy to help out any way I can," Mike enthused, "but first, let me carry those packages for you. I'll blaze a trail for you and you can follow me."
"Okay, if you insist," she agreed with a shy yet coy smile as she handed the eager young man the entire load of shopping bags and packages. Mike took them and without hesitation began to bulldoze through the snow in a straight line towards the door, stopping occasionally to stomp down the surface snow so that his curvaceous neighbor would not have to walk in fear of falling through to the hard-crusted layer beneath. When they reached the entrance landing, Judith rummaged in mock desperation through her purse, then finally found the key and unlocked the thick oak-paneled door, pushing it open wide with one hand as she turned to Mike to take several of the smaller parcels that were teetering on top of the pile he was carrying, about to fall off.
"If you'll put them down there, Mike, I'll take care of them later," she said, pointing to a spot on the floor just inside the door. "I'll go turn on the heat to warm us up a little. In the meantime, why don't you fix us a drink...maybe a brandy...to get our blood going again?"
Mike's facial features showed clearly that there was a struggle taking place within him. Should he take her up on the invitation...to what might turn out to be more than just a drink...or go home to Leslie? Surely by now she knew that he had finished clearing their driveway and was no doubt peering out the window to see where he was.
"Thanks, Mrs. Harrington, but I'd better get out there and clear your path before it gets any later. Leslie probably wonders where I am," he said apologetically, anxious to escape temptation but hating himself for not daring to exploit the attractive situation with the older woman.
"Well, suit yourself. Perhaps another time...when you're not so rushed," Judith purred suggestively. "But please, don't call me 'Mrs. Harrington'...It sounds so stuffy and makes me feel much older than I am...Just call me Judith...or anything you like. A man like you ought to know what a woman likes to be called." Her voice was low and throaty as she stared provocatively at the flustered young veteran, then walked up to him and placed a light, surprising kiss on his lips.
"That's for being such a dear to me," she said sweetly. "Tell Leslie I'll be by tomorrow for a visit."
She watched him through the window next to the front door as he made his way through the snow to his own driveway. She saw him wave and hold up the shovel as though explaining something as he faced the front of his house. Then, after nodding towards the house, Judith saw him cross back again to her own driveway and start to plow his way along the path he had made, pitching the deeper snow aside with all the zeal of a boy breaking his back to earn a reward. She had also been tempted, tempted to take advantage of her young neighbor's obvious desire for her. but Judith knew that one wrong move now might ruin everything and spoil her chances to get all that she wanted in the future. It was better, she decided, to work it so that Mike and his wife would become members of the swapping group. That way, she could get her hands on the muscular young redhead and still have her share of the other men in the club as well. And why not? She had met the requirement for membership: she had recruited a person of the opposite sex, George Mastin, and there was no reason why she should not enjoy all the privileges. It was just damned lucky her her, she thought, that there was no rule saying the recruit had to be your spouse. For God knows, Mark, as crude and horny as he usually was, would never agree to let another man take her to bed. He would never understand that club members never allowed things to go beyond the purely physical stage.
Judith's thoughts turned then to Mike Stewart again and what a great sex partner he would surely be with a little practice. It was evident that he had not had much experience with real women or he would have taken her up on what she had made fairly clear was an invitation to take her to bed. She had been with a man similar to Mike-as far as age and experience were concerned-at the last group session the week before. She felt a slight electric tingle dart thrill-ingly between her full thighs as she remembered that night. She could not even remember his name but she could never forget how his eyes had played over her naked well-rounded curves as she lay waiting for him on the bed, feeling tiny ripples of desire running swiftly over the sensitive nerve-ends of her skin. He had stopped for a moment to gaze at her lovely, large high-set breasts peaked by the light brown nipples...and then his eyes had flicked lower to drink in the delicious sweep of her long, gradually rounded thighs. She had watched his hungry young gaze probe down between her slightly, and very purposely, spread legs to feast on the fleshy pinkness of her vaginal slit glistening wetly in the soft pubic hair covering her loins.
"God, I'm getting hot just thinking about it," Judith said aloud, as though there were someone invisible standing beside her to hear. She turned away from the window and started up the half dozen stair-steps to the living room level, shrugging out of her coat as she went. When she had adjusted the thermostat and felt drafts of heat pouring through the tastefully decorated room, she sat down on the plush down-stuffed couch and kicked off" her shoes. It was impossible for her to shake the thought of Mike and the stimulating memory of her recent round of love-making with the man at the last meeting. She gritted her teeth tightly as she felt the familiar feeling of passion drift slowly, then faster through the tips of her nerves.
She could no longer resist the overpowering urge to touch herself and lifted her buttocks off the couch to slip her pantie-hose down over the smooth white lushness of her thighs. She pictured the exciting bulge in Mike's jeans and then allowed her mind to flash back to the sight of the nameless man at the meeting, standing over her by the bed with his long, thick penis jutting out in anticipation of the fuck she was going to give him. Now, as if in a dream, she moved her hands up to her big swelling breasts and began to massage them as they strained under her dress, searching for the trembling nipples and finally trapping them between her fingers, kneading and pulling them until it felt as though she would pull them loose from the quivering mounds and out through her dress. Then she groaned and turned over onto her palpitating belly, pressing the erect button of her clitoris tightly against the corded edge of the couch, hoping somehow to extinguish the fire that was raging there. But it was not enough and she found herself burrowing down harder, until finally she released her tortured breasts and groped down between the couch and her stomach to fondle the moist, throbbing mass of her pubic hair. She opened her legs wider, one knee almost touching the floor and the other scissored open and high on the soft couch cushions. She could feel her moist hole now pulsing against the tips of her fingers which drew the narrow furrow further apart, exposing the lips of her throbbing cunt to the warm air flooding the room. With a low moan, she sank one of her middle fingers deep into the viscous wet mouth. She felt relieved for a moment and held her breath, but it was still not enough and her desire flamed higher. The inferno inside her was raging more intensely, demanding more, more to staunch its lewd hunger. She slipped in another finger, moving all the way up on the couch in order to draw her knees up to a kneeling position, her naked buttocks waving high in the air as her raised skirt fell forward and bunched up in folds on her back.
Oh Lord, if only she could have a cock now, she yearned, the vision of that last session still racing through her lust-fogged mind. It was as if she were there now, down on her hands and knees over that young man's loins, stroking his stiff cock with one hand and at the same time scratching lightly with her fingernails the hairy sac of his balls and cupping them with her other hand. He had groaned and thrust his hips upward involuntarily as the warm wetness of her parted lips closed delicately over the throbbing, thick head of his delicious prick. He had reached down and tangled his hands roughly in her hair to control the rhythm of her sucking motions, lifting his head a few inches from the pillow to watch his penis filling her mouth and spreading it until her lips were thin, a soft lip stick painted oval circling him. She knew that he had been all the more excited by the sight of his thickness buried between her eagerly sucking lips.
The maddening stimulation of the memory brought Judith to ever-rising heights of passion and she crammed her fingers into the moistness of her cunt in time to the picture in her mind when she had bobbed up and down like a primitive savage on that virile young stranger's gorgeous cock. She rocked back on her knees against her fingers, ramming them deeper inside her, but it only drove her wilder. In desperation, she withdrew one hand from beneath her and reached up over her buttocks to search the soft wet crevice, finally inserting a finger deep into the tiny puckered anal opening between her naked ivory ass-cheeks. She gasped as in her haste she accidentally dug a fingernail into the soft fleshy inner walls, sending a sudden jolt of pain through her erotically contorted body. She paused for a moment, shivering as the stinging sensation subsided, and once again started the obscene self-fucking of her asshole and cunt. Her full white breasts swung to and fro as she moved, the hard nipples brushing sensuously against the velvety surface of the cushions as they danced beneath her kneeling torso. Wonderful flashes of electric sensation raced through every atom of her being as she finger-fucked herself and continued to picture that night...but now the man whose cock she was sucking had a different face! Suddenly she realized that it was Mike Stewart's face, the handsome face of her new neighbor, Leslie's strong young husband.
The picture in her mind changed, became even more exciting, and she imagined herself sucking harder, actually trying to swallow the hardened penis until almost all of it seemed to disappear with each lusty thrust he made...until only an inch or so at the base showed white and gleaming outside her moist lips. She was flicking her hot tongue over it, giving the glans a nerve-tingling lick on the out-stroke and making it throb and jerk as though a live, twitching heart were beating inside. She could envision the sight of her own lips being pulled out obscenely as she clung to the hard flesh of his prick and sucked like a starving woman.
In her imagination, she could hear Mike's deep, virile voice commanding her:
"Suck it, Judith, suck it," he growled, dropping his head back heavily on the pillow and forcing her head down harder with both hands until her red lips were pressed fully into the reddish-brown pubic hair at the base of his cock.
"Suck harder!" the young man in Judith's mind ordered, grunting as she slaved over him, her entire body beginning to gleam from the sheen of female sweat forming all over her skin. God, she loved it! She would rather suck big cocks than almost anything else in the whole world!
She knew that pressure was building in the huge hairy balls. She knew it would not be long now. To her, his cock felt like it was filled with hot lead and was ready to explode like the bursting of a giant balloon...one that would spew its insides for miles in every direction. Mike shoved his loins up hard against her face, hearing her protesting mumble but not caring, not heeding anything but his quest for the wonderful end of this combination of pleasure and torture that was building, building, building towards the breaking point.
"Aaaaaaahh! Suck, you bitch, suck, keep sucking!" she heard her brawny neighbor gasp as he wound his hands tighter and more viciously in her hair. She saw in her mind's eye that his lips were bared back over his white teeth as though he were being tortured on the rack by sexual fiends. She felt his big cock set up a series of wild staccato jerking that flooded her mouth with gush after gush of hot, white sperm, bloating her cheeks outward with each great spurt until Judith was forced to swallow to keep from choking as she mewled and crooned over his writhing groin.
"Don't stop, don't stop! Swallow all of it! Ooooh!" Mike Stewart moaned incoherently as he convulsively rammed his spurting cock farther and farther down Judith's constricting throat. Oh, she wanted it, every last drop of the precious sticky sperm, and kept on sucking craz-ily as he continued to shoot the full load deep, deep into her. Then, with one last bed-shaking groan, he emptied the final squirt of his cum into her mouth, but she went on nibbling at the spent cock, gently pulling and sucking until she was certain that there was nothing left.
"Oh Jesus, Mike, more, I want more cock!" Judith half-shouted into the quiet living room, waving her ripely rounded buttocks more wildly than ever as she plunged the fingers of both hands into her own lust-drenched pussy and anus. She fucked herself harder and faster, sinking the wet fingers inside her all the way up to the palms of her hands.
Her lovely, noble face was twisted with passion and her cheeks flushed a crimson color as she felt it coming, arriving with an almost paralyzing current in her belly, and she clung hard to the last remnants of her sanity. She was teetering on the edge of release, her whole body vibrating, and then the hot female juice gushed around her thrusting fingers, covering her hands and running down onto the couch cushions below her. She could feel it running in tiny prickly rivulets down the inside of her quivering thighs to her bent knees, pooling there.
"Aaaaaaaahhh, oooooooohhhh!" she gasped, her voice pitching out and reverberating from wall to wall of the room, signaling the intense bliss she was feeling.
Gradually, the waves of pleasure lessened and became weaker, until finally she was afraid they were over altogether. But Judith still wanted more, the real thing, and she stayed on her knees...bent forward on her shoulders like a common slave. She could not bring herself to withdraw her fingers from the two upraised passages up between her legs until the last dying throbs of orgasm had stilled her body. At last, after what seemed an eternity, she pulled her hands back and the fingers slithered wetly from her partially-satiated cunt and rectum. She then lowered herself down until she lay full length on the soft couch and felt her own cum stain cooling where her lower tummy pressed against it on the cushion. When she had regained her breath a little, she rolled limply over on her side and allowed her thoughts to ramble on about Mike for several moments, relishing the mental picture she had of how she had sucked him off and made him cum in her mouth.
Suddenly, Judith snapped back to reality, realizing with startling force that it had all been a fantasy, nothing more. She had not been with Mike Stewart, no; she had simply let her desire for him shape his face in her mind instead of the other man's, the one she had really gone to bed with at the last swap session. A brief flurry of anger came over her at her own silly mistakebut one thing was sure now. She had to have that splendid hunk of man and she was willing to do almost anything to accomplish her goal. If it meant hurting Leslie Stewart, that was too bad. The naive young housewife had to learn the facts of life anyway-particularly when she had such an exciting husband on hand to share them with.
Judith's brain began to function efficiently again as a plan began to form-perhaps the answer to how she could achieve what she desperately wanted.
Slowly, a bit unsteadily, she raised herself to a sitting position and lowered her rumpled skirt.
"Hmmm, I guess I'd better call the cleaners in the morning," she chuckled to herself as she examined her dress and looked over at the drying cum stain on the cushion next to her thigh. "Or maybe I should just leave everything as is...Maybe my pussy scent will bring the sexy, redheaded son-of-a-bitch running and make things a lot easier."
Judith Harrington laughed aloud again, as though at some special private joke, as she picked up her pantie-hose and rose from the couch. She was alone now-there was no denying it-but not for long. She was confident that soon she would be getting all the satisfying companionship she could handle. She found herself trying to guess what her husband's reaction would be to the clever scheme she was working on. Well, whatever it might be, she thought, it did not matter now. He would never have the chance to find out.
She caught a glimpse of the front yard as she headed towards the kitchen. There was a clean, deep path from her stationwagon up to the front door. Mike had kept his promise, all right, and she fully intended to give him his reward.
CHAPTER 2
Leslie Stewart was glitteringly happy as she poked absent-mindedly through the array of cosmetics on the shelf next to the bathroom mirror. Even though it was Sunday and she and Mike had no plans to go anywhere, she wanted to be especially pretty for him. He had been extra attentive last night, wooing and caressing her as though it had been their first date, and later in bed he had made rapturous love to her. For a while, it had seemed that finally they might break through to each other and perform the sex act without having to endure the heartbreaking failure that they had come to expect in bed. In the end, of course, it was really the same as always-she had been finally frightened when his penis grew hard and, as always, her whimpering pleas to him for more time until she was fully prepared...as hot as he was...made him limp and disgusted. His penis had wilted to softness again and he had rolled away from her to lie in silence for several minutes.
But then he had turned back to her again to kiss her tenderly on the neck and shoulders, muttering loving reassurances all the while.
Dismissing her worries, she suddenly brightened and peered critically at herself in the mirror, giving her long blonde hair a few extra strokes before putting the brush aside. Then, pouting out her lush, sensuous lips, she took up the tube of pale pink lipstick she had finally found and carefully applied it until her lips were lustrous and wet-looking, as though she had just licked them. Next, a light touch of faint blue eye makeup, a final pat on her hair, and she was a knockout...even if she did say so herself.
Yes, she was just right, she decided. In spite of her innate modesty, she had to admit to herself that, for a twenty-two year-old housewife, she was an extremely pretty little dish. After all, she grinned sweetly in remembrance, she had managed to bag Mike for a mate and that must say something for her. And she had not been the only girl at college who had had her sights set for him. She could remember at least a dozen other attractive girls, some of them from wealthy families, who had boasted that they would land him first. But Leslie had not shown any evidence of her tremendous attraction to him, as strong as it had been, and at last he had asked her out for a dinner date at an expensive restaurant. They had been utterly fascinated by each other, and within a matter of months, their wedding date was set. It had not been until the night of their honeymoon that the trouble began. He had wanted her to do things in bed that she had never even heard of...and when she exhibited fear, he would lose his erection and usually stalk angrily out of the room. Then...Vietnam...Mike had been called into the service and shipped overseas before they had had a real chance to solve the problem. But he was back now...home...and had found a position as a junior executive with a promising new trucking firm. He liked the job, too, even though sometimes she felt just as lonely and neglected as she had when Mike was away serving as a second lieutenant in the army. He was taking his new position so seriously, worked such long hours and even at home some evenings, that she saw little of him during the week and had to content herself with their weekends together. But it was silly, she chided herself, to worry so. Everything would work out.
She began to softly sing a little tune she recalled from her childhood as she gave herself a last check in the mirror. She was aware that her body was one of her greatest assets and that she made men desire her on sight. Her breasts were full but high and firm, their enticing rounded contours a nice contrast to her flat, narrow tummy. Her legs were long and perfectly tapered, the soft white thighs sloping down beautifully from the gentle swell of her hips.
AH in all, she supposed she was what people call a truly beautiful woman, and yet for some reason she was automatically filled with fear at the thought of having any man, even her own husband, insert his hard, awesome thing between her legs.
"Honey, what on earth are you doing in there?" Mike called through the closed door, a slight edge of impatience in his husky voice.
"Just prettying up a little. Don't worry, I'll be out in a second," Leslie answered buoyantly, fighting down her sudden impulse to ask what he had been doing in the bathroom last night. But she knew better, for it only caused trouble between them when she was bold enough to question his actions. His term as an army officer had given him a sense of his own importance as well as a kind of strange comfort in having authority.
Mike returned to the kitchen where a cup of coffee he had poured himself was only lukewarm now. Swearing mildly under his breath, he poured out the tepid black liquid into the sink and then filled his cup again with what was left in the still-steaming pot. He could not drive out of his mind the exciting thought of Judith Harrington's ripe, voluptuous body. For the thousandth time, he pictured in his mind how she had looked yesterday when they had talked together in her driveway. Christ, she must be absolutely fantastic between the sheets, he mused, sipping distractedly from his cup. Just the thought of her big breasts, plus the obvious roundness and exciting fleshy contours he had guessed were under her clothes, had worked him into such a frenzy last night that he had fruitlessly tried to relieve himself with Leslie. He should have known better, of course, because the same frustrating thing had happened...Her body had stiffened and she had cringed as usual when he was ready to run his erect penis up between her thighs. That always ruined him! But then his desire had overwhelmed him again and he had actually thought of raping his own wife, then and there, just like an animal.
Now he was glad that he had restrained himself and risen to go into the bathroom. It was not fair to Leslie, he realized, but neither was she being fair to him...not as a wife should be to a man. Judith Harrington would never turn him down-of that he was certain-because she was clearly lonely and probably had all the know-how and desire to give a real man the time of his life. Just imagining the older woman's potential, as he sat there, caused his prick to jerk slightly and come to life in the crotch of his trousers.
"Well, here I am, Mike," Leslie said out of nowhere, startling the redheaded veteran back to the moment. She was standing in a pretty pose in the doorway, waiting for him to praise her fresh, vibrant appearance.
"Hi, honey. I was just having some more coffee...thinking, that's all," Mike blurted out guiltily, afraid that somehow she had read his thoughts. He was not even aware of the look of disappointment that clouded her face when he said nothing about how she looked in her new dress...one she had bought with the money he had given her as a special gift soon after his homecoming. Worse yet, he had crawled out of bed that morning without bothering to give her the long cuddling and barrage of kisses that had always been part of the fun of waking up together. All this, the very morning after they had so blissfully loved and held each other in the dark of the night before...
"What do you think of it, Mike?" she asked after an awkward silence, hating herself for giving in to her desire to have him admire her. Gathering up her courage, she made a halfhearted charade of modelling the new dress, striking haughty postures and twirling occasionally to make the skirt flare out and form a hoop around her firm, curved calves.
"It's a midi, see," she said timidly, her spirits falling as she saw that he was not really interested and was smiling only out of politeness.
"Yes, I know," he said desultorily.
"Darling, about last night...." Leslie began, hoping to miraculously change the mood in the air...even if it meant she had to admit that she had failed him again.
"Hey, so that's a midi, uh? It's great, just right!" Mike interrupted, a broad, masculine grin spreading across his face. He sat up straight in the chair, his whole appearance perking with enthusiasm as he admiringly surveyed the sight of his lovely young wife standing there.
"Yes, Mike, it is nice. But last night...."
"And that's the one you bought with the money I gave you?" he asked, interrupting her again. Suddenly it became clear to her that he was not really interested in the dress at all, but merely wanted to avoid any conversation about her failure last evening to fulfill her role as a wife in bed. But now, just for once, she was willing to face the problem and wanted very much to talk it over with him in adult terms. There had to be a solution.
"Mike, please, I want to talk about last night...and all the other nights. Maybe we can decide what's wrong," Leslie said evenly as she struggled to be rational and honest.
"I'm afraid I'm in no mood to discuss the matter right now," Mike said sullenly, his face darkening once more.
"Well, would you mind if I talked to Judith about it? She's a woman and might know how to help," the blonde suggested meekly, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Oh sure, go ahead! Go tell the whole damned neighborhood that the Stewarts can't make it in bed! Because little Leslie's afraid of a hard-onbe sure to add that!" Mike suddenly shouted at the top of his voice. He rudely pushed away his coffee cup, slopping over some of its contents on the table, then stood up and almost knocked over his chair as he turned to stride angrily out of the kitchen.
"Mike, Mike, please...." Leslie called after him, big tears streaming freely down her face now. She looked down at her lap and saw that a small trickle of the spilled coffee was running off the edge of the table and down onto her pretty new dress. Then she heard through her sobbing the booming sound of the front door as her husband slammed it shut.
* * *
"Gee, Leslie, that's a shame, but I've got some truly magical cleaning fluid to take care of it," Judith Harrington said reassuringly to the young blonde as they examined the coffee stain on the new dress. "I bought it at the supermarket this morning. You see, I had an accident yesterday, too. But this stuff is good."
"Oh thanks...Mike bought this for me as a gift, so it's kind of precious to me," Leslie explained to her. She was thankful that Judith had dropped by for a short visit, for Mike was still outside tinkering with the car and refused to come back into the house. She had gone out to plead with him, but he would not even talk and had kept on with whatever he was doing, ignoring her as though she did not exist.
"Shall I bring the dress over now?" Leslie asked.
"Not right now, honey, if you don't mind," Judith said quickly. "In fact, I've got to rush. If you'll give me until, say, noon, you can bring it over then...and I'll have everything ready for you." The younger woman did not bother to question Judith's puzzling tone or what it was that made it necessary to wait so long to walk next door and rub out a little stain.
"Fine, I'll be over then," Leslie nodded.
"Oh, another thing," Judith added, "take the back way when you come. The snow's not very deep there. I'll unlock the kitchen door for you and you can just come on in."
"Okay, but why not the front way? Mike said he cleared the walk for you yesterday," Leslie wondered.
"In case you don't know it, honey, we had a terrible freeze last night and the steps and walk are icy slick. I know, I almost broke my neck getting over here," Judith smiled, convincing her neighbor that she was merely being considerate.
"Incidentally," Judith said casually, "I met your good-looking young husband yesterday and think he's marvelous. Uh-did you ever say anything to him about our little talk that day...you know, about the group...the club I wanted you to join?"
"Heavens, no! He would hate me for even daring to think of such a thing," Leslie shuddered.
"So you two are getting along fine that way...as young lovers should? Right?" Judith's inquiry was too bold and direct for Leslie to side-step.
"Of course...It-it's just...perfect...more than I can...tell you," the lush-bodied blonde fumbled, wringing her hands together on her lap until her knuckles were white. She was positive that Judith was wise enough to catch the faltering uncertainty in her voice and know that she was lying, but oddly enough, the woman's expression did not change and there was no indication that the falsehood had been detected.
"I'm hapy for you," Judith smiled. "I'll see you at noon, then." The busty brunette waved goodbye and opened the back door of Leslie's kitchen, grimacing with mock drama as she felt the blast of wintry air hit her face.
As Judith made her way cautiously down the steps, she felt a momentary pang of guilt for what she was about to do. But the way Leslie had responded to the question about how their sex life was going had confirmed Judith's suspicions-that the newly-married couple had problems. Maybe she could actually help them, and if not, she could have a great time trying. She knew that her plan would work, though, and felt a glow of well-being as she picked her way along the snowy path that Leslie would use later. All she had to do now was get Mike there at least a half hour before his wife came over with her soiled dress. She knew that he was in their garage, for she had looked out the window earlier and seen him leaning over the open hood of their car. From the look on his face, when he stood up to reach for what seemed to be a tool on the shelf behind him, he was upset about something. There had been an angry scowl on his face and he had moved like a man whose emotions were boiling in raging fury.
When she reached the edge of the Stewart's house, where the snow was deeper and gave way underfoot, she veered right and fought her way along the windowless side of their place to the garage where she had seen Mike working. She was beginning to wonder if he was really worth all this exertion until she rounded the corner and saw the powerful, boy-like man standing beside the car, peering quizzically down at the engine. God, yes! he was even better than she remembered.
"Hello there," Judith said cheerfully. "I've just had a talk with Leslie and she seems to be upset. You two have a spat? Is there anything I can do?"
"Huh-oh, hello," Mike said surprised, his scowl changing at once to an expression of pleased recognition of the mature, tantalizing woman. By God, yes, there was something she could do, Mike thought to himself, but he doubted that things would ever work out so that they could do it together. He knew that he should not desire another woman so muchespecially when that woman was Judith Harrington, their own next-door neighbor-but dammit, what could anyone expect of him? He was human and Leslie was...
"Mike, I asked if there's any way I can help out," Judith queried again, her eyes bright with amusement as she watched the young man trying to cope with her question. It was perfecthe was just as affected by her now as he had been yesterday and she had little doubt that her cunning scheme would produce splendid results and ultimately satisfy everyone.
"Uh-no...Everything is fine, really," he finally said a bit too emphatically. "It's nothing serious. Leslie just has some adjustments to make and there's nothing you can do...that I can think of."
"Are you sure, Mike?" Judith asked with a trace of suggestion in her voice.
"Oh yes, I'm...sure," he agreed.
"There's something you can do for me, then...if you want to," the brunette said softly. "I can't seem to make my kitchen heater work at all, and I've been freezing all morning in there. Could you possibly come over later and have a look at it?"
"Of course! I'll come over right now!" Mike said heartily as he reached up to close the hood of his car.
"Good grief, no, not now," she laughed, placing her hand on his to stop him. "I'm not ready to allow a man in my house at this hour of the morning. I'm not finished straightening up. Could you make it sometime after eleven?"
"That's great with me...I'll be seeing you," Mike said, shaking his head from side to side in admiration as he watched the gorgeous older woman fling him a conspiratorial wave of temporary goodbye and pick her way as gracefully as possible back along the space between the houses. He wondered why she had not simply walked out to the street and up her driveway to the path he had made the day before. Then he began to wonder how any husband could justify to himself what he was wishing he could do to Judith...if it were somehow possible.
CHAPTER 3
At eleven-fifteen Judith was fully prepared. Although the house had not actually been messy, she had dusted the tops of tables, fluffed up the pillows on the couch, and generally enhanced the rich atmosphere of the living room and kitchen. There was a huge fire in the living room fireplace, the high wavering flames crackling cozily as they illuminated the room with subtle, mellow highlights and gave off a nice woody aroma. On the drainboard next to the cavernous stainless steel sink, she had placed a plastic bottle of unopened cleaning fluid...just in case her plan failed and Leslie should want the stuff for the stained dress.
Judith had not used it on the couch cushionhad merely turned it over instead-and then remembered to pour out some of it into the sink...She had to if she might be forced to follow up on her story. She had told Leslie how good it was. And yet, Judith was almost positive that the pretty young blonde would care about the spectacle she would see far more than about any silly little stain on a new dress.
As Judith gave the kitchen a last-minute onceover, she shivered from the chill and made a last check to be certain that the portable butane heater was hidden just behind the door to the laundry room off the kitchen. She had turned off the stationary heating unit in the room by making a trip to the cellar and flipping the switch to "off"...That easy.
The final touch was her dress, a tight, form-fitting velour that accentuated every sinuous movement of her ripe body. The skirt was only slightly longer than mini-length and showed off to any interested male eye that her thighs were daringly lush and promising. The neckline of the dress was just as provocative; it swooped across her large breasts in a half-moon plunge from her shoulders, revealing the high, full curves of their tempting white mounds and the deep valley between them.
It was eleven-twenty. She began to fidget and worry that perhaps for some unknown reason Mike might decide to stay home and not come over to perform what he thought was an innocent mechanical chore. He must know what she wanted, what he could have for the takingshe had given him all the signs. Then she began to fear that she had gone too far, been too promiscuous...Maybe he was just as afraid of sex as his wife seemed to be.
She was sitting on a footstool in front of the snapping, hot fire, brooding, when she heard an insistent rapping at the back door. The lovely woman rose reflexively to her feet, smoothing her nut-brown hair as she stood there a moment, composing herself, and then went calmly back into the kitchen.
He had come!
She saw Mike Stewart standing just outside the door, beating his arms with a crossing motion against his chest.
"It's cold, goddamned cold...pardon my language...even for me!" Mike chattered as he stomped the snow off his boots and took off his jacket to shake it before stepping into the kitchen. Judith closed the door behind him and grinned as she took his jacket and tossed it hurriedly on the handiest chair.
"Come with 'me into the living room," she said with concern, "and warm yourself in front of the fire...I'll lay odds you won't turn down something to drink today...Whiskey, brandy, something more exotic?" She waited patiently while the half-frozen redhead made up his mind.
"As a matter-of-fact, Mrs. Harrington, I wouldn't mind a shot of straight whiskey," Mike admitted as he knelt down at the hearth with his hands extended out towards the warming heat of the cheerful fire. Judith stood there a moment, watching him toasting his big hands, then grinned with confidence as she glided to the bar and poured out two generous slugs of high-proof whiskey into a pair of glasses. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he was watching her every move now, missing nothing, and teased him all the more by leaning down to pick up a towel from the bottom shelf of the bar, giving him a good view of what she had to offer from the waist up. Her nipples were almost showing and she knew that it was time to stand up straight and give him a long look at her fleshy, symmetrical legs as she fixed the drinks...something more to excite the attractive neighbor before the next move that she had planned to fulfill her whole strategy. It was working, too, for his eyes were scanning her from head to foot, hungrily now, and he could not settle on one portion of her inviting ripe body long enough to decide what he wanted most.
"If you'll show me the heater, I'll fix it," Mike said as he took the glass of whiskey from Judith and downed almost half of the contents in one gulp. "Leslie doesn't know...."
"Don't think of her for a change," Judith scolded, running her fingers through his windblown hair as she stepped closer and stood leaning slightly against him, her bare unstockinged thighs pressing warmly on his broad back. "We can talk about that later-after I've warmed you up."
She reached down then and took his hand, urging him to stand and face her. Without a word, she snuggled closer to him and placed her head on his shoulder as she began to tease him with delicate tracings of her fingers on the lobe of one ear and at the sensitive nerves along the back of his neck. He could feel her magnificent full breasts pressed against him and could not resist the temptation to tilt his head forward slightly to peer down the front of her velvety low-cut dress. What he saw took his breath away! My God, how he would like to plunge his hands down her dress and seize those big, beautiful orbs of white flesh, squeezing them until she begged for what he had between his legs.
Judith seemed to sense his lustful wish and dropped one hand from behind his neck to run her fingertips lightly along his slim hip, little by little inching toward his fly. She felt his penis jerking to hardness and he involuntarily lifted his muscular arms to wrap them around her, circling her upper body as he crushed her to him tightly and bent his head to give the alluring brunette a rough, grinding kiss. She moaned as they held their mouths locked wetly together, pressing her moistening pelvic mound hard against the lower length of his now-lurching cock. The handsome young veteran reddened slightly and she had to suppress the desire to giggle when he flinched and drew back a step, surprised by her boldness and how she was beginning to come on with him.
Mike was thoroughly confused because he definitely wanted her, in the worst way, and yet he had never cheated with another woman behind his wife Leslie's back. Even in Vietnam, where practically all the servicemen went to bed with whores or nurses every time they had a chance, he had held out and suffered by himself, thinking of his new wife instead. Now, he began to wonder if he had not been a foolish chump, for Leslie was just as frigid and frightened as she had always been-and he was still frustrated.
"Are you satisfied with Leslie in bed?" Judith suddenly asked in a low whisper as though she could see into his mind.
"Well, she's young...but willing," he lied.
"Is she...really?" Judith persisted, suspecting the truth and realizing that he was probably only trying to protect Leslie's honor as a young wife. And there was also the matter of his male pride :'No healthy young man, barely out of his teens, wanted to admit that he was failing to stimulate his own wife enough to overcome her girlish fears of sex.
"No, dammit," Mike confessed sourly. "She's like an iceberg and it's driving me crazy...And you're not helping much," he added, "standing here with me in that sexy dress of yours."
"I'll take it off if it bothers you, Mike," Judith cooed, breathing heavily into his ear as she leaned against him, straining forward on her tiptoes. She reached up again and curled her arms around his neck, moving her groin up tighter against his until they seemed to be glued together. His cock was painfully hard and he could feel the wetness from the seminal fluid seeping from the gland on the thick tip. It smeared against his leg inside his jeans until he was certain she could also feel the wetness through the material covering their genitals. Then, wantonly, she arched back her head and used both hands behind his head to pull down his mouth to hers. He could not stop himself and kissed back, greedily, thrusting his tongue deep in her mouth. She sucked gently on it, nibbling on the tender spear with tiny sharp nips of her teeth that sent chills running up and down the length of his spine. At last, he broke the kiss and placed his cheek against her shiny brown hair, thinking guiltily for a moment of Leslie and the shock it would be to her if she could see him now, embracing the desirable plush body of Judith Harrington, the very woman who had comforted her during his absence. In her innocence, the blonde would never believe it. There was no such thing as marital infidelity, not to her.
"What's wrong, Mike, are you afraid to take on a real woman?" Judith asked tauntingly, drawing back a little to gaze up at him, all her sulky charm smoldering sexily in her coffee-colored eyes. She had him exactly where she wanted him and intended to enjoy every moment of exotic pleasure possible while acting out her plan for even more pleasure in the future.
"Are you kidding or something?" he bluffed, his masculine self-respect tottering between pride and doubt. "I was only thinking that we shouldn't get so involved before I look at the heater...You wanted me to fix it, didn't you?"
"Of course...what else?" she questioned. He was momentarily relieved and yet also disappointed by her answer. Christ, yes, he was guilty for what he had already done but he knew it was impossible to deny that he wanted more, all he could get of the enticing, available woman. It fractured his ego to think that perhaps she really would be satisfied if he merely fixed the heater and left with nothing but a "thanks" after all this.
"Follow me, baby, and I'll show you where it is," she said with feigned nonchalance as she guided him towards the kitchen. "Here, use this portable thing to keep you warm while you work. It's the butane one I usually keep in the main bathroom," she said as she wheeled out the heater from behind the door and pushed the button to start it going.
"Yeah, okay, and thanks," Mike said sharply. He was not used to taking orders-from anyone! In the army he had been trained to give orders...But his legs were still trembling and there was still a hardness in the crotch of his trousers from the teasing round of love-play between them in the living room. He sighed under his breath and knelt down to check out the faulty heating unit that she pointed to.
"I'll be back in a few minutes, after I attend to something else," Judith announced almost haughtily as she left the room for whatever it was she had to do. As sexually inflamed as she was, she still had to keep her head enough to make sure that everything went according to schedule. Just inside the den she had earlier decided to use as a makeshift dressing room, she cast a quick look at the clock perched on a shelf over the bookcase. It was eleven-forty, only twenty minutes before Leslie was due to drop by with her stained dress. No time to waste, Judith mumbled, stripping off her vampish dress and reaching up high on her back to deftly unhook the fastening of her bra. When she was completely naked, she took up Mark's bottle of rare brandy and uncorked it to take a big slug before leaving the cozy room. She grinned in anticipation of what Mike's reaction would be, once he saw her this way...all bare flesh...the way she liked to be around men. She left, then, feeling the pleasant glow from the liquor mixing with the glow of female excitement spreading like a lovely fever in her stomach.
Mike's thoughts droned on as he searched futilely for the clue to what was wrong with the heater. His mind labored to dismiss the feeling he had that Judith had insulted him and now he strove to rationalize away the shame that he felt for being an unfaithful husband to Leslie. And he knew that if he had his way now, what had taken place a few minutes ago in front of the fireplace was only a beginning. He meant to go all the way with Judith, both to relieve the frustrating demands in his loins and give the teasing, self-assured bitch all she had coming to her.
A moment later, when Judith reached the entrance to the now-warm kitchen, she paused and forced herself to think everything over one last time. The timing had to be just right. Then she looked down at her full large breasts and at the ripe ruby-tipped nipples standing out like miniature peaks on the ample mounds. She moistened them with saliva from her tongue so that their erect tips shone wetly and throbbed slightly from the touch of her own fingers against them. Then she walked in and stood shamelessly in front of him as he examined the heater. It took him a moment or so to notice that she was beside him, but finally he looked up.
"Jesus! you're-you're undressed...you're naked!" he exclaimed in surprise as his eager hazel eyes roved over the brunette's deliciously rounded body. He was blushing but not so much that she could miss the pleased smile that broke across his face as she stood there displaying herself.
Mike could see that she was just as ready as he was. There were little dewdrops of wetness along the pink hair-lined lips of her vagina and it was all he could do to keep from walking forward on his knees to plant his lips on the softness there between her thighs. Instead, he rose to his feet immediately and grabbed her up in his brawny arms, crushing her to him as he kissed her fully on the mouth and then moved down to tease her ear with his tongue. Tremors surged through Judith and she was alive with erotic sensation.
"Hurry, take off your clothes," she said almost pleadingly. She wanted him as soon as possible. It was a battle to stop herself from reaching out to rip off his clothes, to strip him for readiness then and there...
"How would you like to fuck me there...on the kitchen table?" she panted as she gestured towards the sturdy surface that she had cleared for the occasion. It was exactly high enough, just as she had guessed it would be, and would be ideal for what was on the verge of happening. She watched Mike struggle frantically to get out of his clothes, every cell in her being screaming for him to hurry. She was seething with impatience. He had his shirt off and she could see the well-cut plates of muscle that formed his powerful chest. Now he peeled down the jockey shorts to his hips, cursing at the difficulty he was having as he tried to get them over his hardened penis. At last he succeeded and the beautiful length sprang out and up into full view of her eyes.
She gasped at the sight.
Judith could not take her eyes from the wonderful cock before her and gazed in awe at it jutting out from his flanks, the big glans fanning out like a majestic cobra head at the end of its alert length. She shuddered against her will and lowered her eyes a bit more to the big balls beneath. Mike's testicles were larger than any she had ever seen and sagged down between his legs like loaded pendulums that ached with fullness.
"God, you're beautiful!" she muttered. "Thanks...but you're damned good yourself, Mrs. Harrington," he said as he blinked his eyes approvingly at her. He felt a little more confident now and decided that the reward in store would be well worth the prolonged, torturous waiting. Her eyes still riveted to his groin, she allowed herself to be guided backwards to the edge of the kitchen table. They lingered there a moment as he cupped her naked breasts in both hands, squeezing them, until he squatted down and fastened his teeth harshly into the stiff nipple of her swollen left breast. She groaned in painful surprise and attempted to twist free from the sudden sharp torture, but his young hands held her fast. The redhead's questing mouth roamed from breast to breast, sucking and chewing at the white quivering softness of them and causing blissful twitches of feeling that descended like feathers to the vee of her pubic region. She squirmed and pressed closer anxiously, hoping that he would not hesitate a second more before he gave her the full benefit of his thrilling endowment.
"Please, please put it in me," Judith begged, her carefully calculated scheme now forgotten and unimportant as she utterly freed herself in her lust.
"Put what in you, Mrs. Harrington? ...WhereV Mike demanded as his courage steadily strengthened.
"Oh, darling, your cock...put your big cock in my hot pussy. Fuck me, fuck me," his married neighbor groaned. Her passion was washing her brain of reason and she was positive that she would die on her feet if the handsome young bastard made her suffer a second longer. She looked down again at the pulsing, blood-filled cock-head and said, "It's so big, so beautiful. I want it inside me, please! All of it!"
He moved forward and forced her down flat on her back on the table with his youthful strength. When she was placed where he wanted her, he eased his hands under the smoothness of her buttocks and cupped them. They were satiny and as pleasing to hold as he had expected them to be. She was spread before him on the table and he could take her at will any time he decided to. He thought of Leslie as he leered over the woman writhing impatiently below him. If only his blonde goddess of a wife were just half as daring as Judith Harrington, Mike thought, he would be home with her instead of hovering over the next-door neighbor as she lay like a savory feast on her own table.
Judith suddenly hunched up to her elbows and thrust one hand far forward to grasp his penis. He moaned and forgot about his wife as he felt the coolness of the mature woman's fingers close around the rigid span of his thick girth, using his prick like a handle to pull him closer. His mind was fogged with animal lust as he placed his hands on the tops of her trembling thighs and leaned his head down within inches of her glistening pubic hair. Her female odor was mind-reeling, a perfume he had longed for, and it reminded him somehow of honest earth and blooming gardenias. She bridged the full length of her body upwards, searching for him, then found his solid shoulders and managed to pull him down over her pearl-white nakedness as she opened her legs wide to take him into her. She had to have him now, that instant, and grasped his long hard throbbing cock again with one hand as she parted her cuntal lips obscenely with the fingers of the other.
The mandhood of Mike Stewart flared and he powered himself free of Judith's grip and stood up straight with his jutting cock in one hand. He was wild with desire now, a brute whose instincts were ignited by her raving lewd need to have him. Then, slowly, cruelly, he guided his oozing cock forward, using the thick rubbery head to part the soft curling pubic hair and the fleshy, palpitating flanges of her cunt. She tossed her head to one side on the glossy table as she felt its soft electrical contact against the parted, ragged edges of her moist cunt. It was too much to take easily and the hot-blooded woman winced when the first pressure against the tight elastic opening of her vagina became more than she had expected.
He thrust into her, stretching wide the soft opening until he was buried in her stomach and only about four inches of the lust hardened shaft were visible outside her half filled vaginal hole. He pushed harder, then, sliding up into her like a greased telephone pole that wanted nothing else but to be rammed deep into the warm pink cunt flesh surrounding and engulfing it. She jumped as his balls collided against the smooth, hairless crevice between the cheeks of her tightly-clenched ass. She was getting more than she had bargained for. She had underestimated this boy and now moaned defenselessly below him, her face showing pain as much as the wanted pleasure.
"Easy, eeeeaasssy," the experienced but impassioned woman pled as he started an unrelenting fucking motion into her cunt. She knew, even in her tormented state of mind, that gradually the agony would lessen and a sensation of pure pleasure would eventually replace it.
And she was right, for the eager young stud's stroking against her thighs and wide-stretched buttocks slowly renewed the raging fire that had only fluttered for awhile in her. She began to meet his thrusts again and undulated her voluptuous torso around on the table to goad him on. The sinews of her muscles flexed lightly under her skin and the cords of her belly tensed rhythmically as she received each thrilling lunge.
"Ah, yes, that's right, just right...Keep on...screwing me, keeeeep oooonnn," Judith groaned out as Mike Stewart rammed into her faster, prodded to fresh bursts of abandoned enthusiasm by the encouragement she obscenely mouthed. He pushed his hands down beneath her again and pulled her open loins up tighter against him. He fucked in and out of her as if he were hypnotized, insinuating the rigidity of his whole length back and forth in the widespread slit, sensing it grow wetter and softer with each stroke he gave her. Her ass began a more desperate motion, rotating in a sort of circle and humping at the same time, until without warning she snaked out her legs and closed them just enough to allow her to kick crazily with her bare heels on the firm, trim cheeks of his buttocks, driving him even closer and more violently into the canyon of her splayed, quiver-ingly open thighs, deeper, deeper...Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and yet her fingers searched forward and finally found Mike's driving buttocks, locking there as she twisted insanely, a portion of her firm, rounded buttocks hanging a few inches over the sharp wooden edge of the table.
Mike had no doubt now that he had the upper hand, that his male superiority had conquered her and now he had this hot-blooded married neighbor of his in the best position possible. Hell, he could come over and do this to her any time he decided to, he thought with a half-cruel smile on his face, because it was pretty obvious that she liked cock...and she was also married. Certainly she would not be any more anxious to have her husband find out about this than he, Mike, would be to have his own little Leslie know about the ecstatic interlude.
"How do you like it, Mrs. Harrington?" he growled down at her as he gave the stunning brunette a brutal thrust.
"Oooooh, ooooooohh," Judith wailed, unable to answer or even make her mind work.
Still grinning, he gazed down between her legs and was so excited by the lewd sight that he ground his pelvis into the squirming flaccid flesh beneath him even more viciously as she moaned continuously, a sound somewhere between agony and heavenly bliss. He watched his thick cock pull all the way out to her flaming wet cuntal lips on the back-stroke and then push them in as he slid smoothly into her on the in-stroke. Her mouth gaped open wide each time the huge head banged hard against her tender cervix, jarring her. Her cunt was filled full of him, the delicate wet flesh of the wide stretched passage yielding and closing as though she had been using her mouth on him, sucking him off.
"Ooooh, god, baby, fuck, fuck me! More, more! It's so goooooood!" she whined as she clawed her long fingernails over the cheeks of his tense buttocks, leaving scratch marks on them. Mike could feel his prick expanding and flexing inside her as if it were going to burst from the exquisite pleasure damming up in his balls as they smacked bluntly against her anus below. She was still rolling her head on the hard table surface in wild, unequivocal ecstasy, her rich brown hair loose now and flowing from side to side. His iron-hard, stiff cock sawed inexhaustibly into the depth of her stomach, the veins along the thick shaft pulsing with the hot blood that engorged them until Judith could feel them standing out and pressing against the walls of her vaginal passage...God, god, god, this was too good to be true! The sense of it rose like intuition from her mind, a mind now reduced to sheer animal consciousness.
"Now, darling, now! Work your finger up my ass, oh pleeease!" she implored shamelessly. Mike had never done this before to any woman, let alone Leslie, but he was not opposed to learning something new that could really satisfy a woman. He slipped one hand free and reached down below his throbbing penis to where his testicles were hanging between his neighbor's creamy white thighs...hanging like wine sacs below the table-top. Pushing aside his own balls, he placed his powerful hand on the wetness of her anal crevice and stretched the white moons of her buttocks wide. He probed with the tip of his middle finger and suddenly found her tiny, slightly throbbing rectal mouth. A moist trickle of warm male semen and pussy secretions was running down the widely stretched cleft and wetting the tight, puckered little hole, lubricating it slightly and he searched experimentally for a moment with his fingertip. Then he shoved hard, feeling it give until suddenly the rubbery elastic ring gave way completely and his finger slithered in up to the first knuckle-joint. Judith cried out and tried to wiggle away, but he pushed harder and sank into her up to the second knuckle.
"It hurts, Mike, oh...oh!"
For the barest instant, he thought of withdrawing the finger and sparing her the pain she must be feeling. He hesitated as the idea disappeared from his sex-centered mind, just long enough to convey his uncertainty to the gorgeous woman spread-eagled on her own kitchen table below him. Her glazed eyes popped open like the shutters of camera lenses and showed the impatience and frustration she felt.
Momentarily amazed, he felt her suddenly begin to fuck her ass up on his finger until it was sunk in her rectum as far as it could go. He could feel through the thin wall of flesh separating her twin passages the bottomside of his cock, and he began to slide in and out of her again, impaling her between the finger and his penis as he attempted to maintain the same rhythm for both as she groaned gratefully again. He had never believed anything could be this good, this wild and easy.
* * *
"Golly," Leslie blurted when she saw the clock in the kitchen. It was a little past noon and Judith would be expecting her next door with the new stained dress. The blonde had been puttering about absent-mindedly in the kitchen for some time now, polishing things and rearranging canned goods on the shelves, while reevaluating her marriage with Mike. She had not come to any brilliant conclusions, it was true, but at least she had decided to try harder to banish her fears and be a woman as well as a wife to him. She loved him, more than he knew or believed, and her strongest wish in life was that they would solve their problems and once more experience the joyful, carefree delight that they had taken from each other in the beginning of their courtship.
But it might take longer now to start working on what was wrong. Mike must be really upset this time-he had been out there fiddling with their car for what seemed an eternity to her. But she was not about to push him at the moment, despite how much she yearned to run out there, fling her arms around him and be reassured of his love by a kiss and a long, warming hug. He had been touchy since his return from Vietnam and she was convinced that it would take some more time for him to settle down and be himself.
Sighing, Leslie put on her coat and snatched up the dress from the back of a chair where she had placed it earlier. Then, remembering, she took up the pencil and pad that she kept for shopping lists and jotted down a quick note for Mike...in case he came back inside before she returned home from Judith's. She printed "I love you" in exaggeratedly large letters at the bottom of the message and put it in front of his chair so he would see it if he wandered in for a cup of coffee, as he normally did, after being outside working on their driveway or whatever.
It was not abnormally cold, she noted thoughtfully, remembering Judith's report on the weather that morning. Leslie shivered nevertheless and hurried as fast as she could towards the Harrington house. When she was midway between the houses, she stopped to pull the hood of her coat up to protect her ears from the harsh air and then saw the crispedged holes in the snow where someone had walked from their garage down and back from where she was standing. It looked as though the foot-holes were fairly fresh, but her eyes were starting to water from the below-freezing temperature and she could not be certain. Maybe Mike had wallowed through the deep drifts to come into their kitchen and surprise her...maybe to make up...and had then stubbornly changed his mind and returned to the garage. Well, whatever it was, she would freeze on the spot if she stood there any longer trying to figure it out.
Leslie charged through the blinding white snow until with relief the almost non-existent back path led her to the kitchen door of her neighbor's house. She paused a second, despite the cold, to pull back the hood of her coat and shake out her abundant blonde hair, smoothing it with one hand before she knocked. She was fond of Judith and yet somehow the sophisticated, always-chic woman intimidated her to the point of feeling tousled and behind everything when they were together.
Leslie was reaching up to rap her nearly frozen slender knuckles on the window-pane to the right of the door when a paralyzing tremor of shock stopped her.
It was a nightmare going on in her girlfriend's kitchen.
Blinking, she pressed her face against the window and saw that the horrible thing going on inside was no dream. Mike, her own husband, was standing over Judith...They were both naked and her handsome redheaded mate was driving back and forth like a demon between Judith Harrington's obscenely gaping legs...on her own kitchen table...in broad daylight! He was making love to her-fucking her -and his right hand was moving rapidly in an obscene pistoning action somewhere lower, somewhere in front of him and down where Judith's "other" place would be. From what the astonished young housewife could see, they were completely, uninhibitedly drowning in erotic pleasure and felt nothing but lust. Leslie fluttered her lashes to clear her unbelieving eyes, focusing them with all the strength she had to be positive that what she saw inside was really happening. Oh, but it was...Mike was having the time of his life between Judith's well-rounded thighs; he was oblivious, as she was, to everything-marriage, love, faithfulness...everything! They were cheating, like selfish beasts, cheating, fucking and cheating while their innocent spouses...their own naive partners in marriage...were supposed to sit around trusting them!
Leslie felt the stinging tears coursing down her face. How could he, how could he do this? she asked herself over and over. Like a word repeated too many times, the question became meaningless to her and furious jealousy began to push it aside. Her first, immediate impulse was to throw open the door and attack the nakedly writhing pair with a self-righteous rage, one they would never forget, to show them how wrong and evil it was to overstep the bounds of marital fidelity. But no, that would be too simple...She wanted to pay back Mike and that treacherous vamp, Judith Harrington, in a way that would have a lasting impact.
Leslie clutched the soiled dress to her chest and mashed back through the snow towards her house. With her shock and anger lending her force, she was like a human snowplow and arrived at her own back door in half the time it had taken her to leave it and innocently fight her way to Judith's kitchen a few moments ago. She wanted to be alone and decide what she would do.
* * *
Mike's loins were aching beyond all human endurance with the burning need to empty his sperm into the woman writhing and moaning on her back on the table in front of him. Judith was thoroughly out of her mind with passion, pitching beneath him in a maniacal frenzy as he skewered into her hotly clasping cunt and rammed up into the soft rubbery depths of her rectum with his finger. Great torrents of heat were building in his balls and he sensed that she too was close to orgasm.
"Oh, oh, oooooh...I'm cumming, I'm cum-ming, oh, nowwwwww! Aaaaaah, aaaaaaahh!" she cried out, filling the otherwise silent kitchen with the lewd crooning sounds of her orgasmic agony. Her cum juice flowed out wetly around his still pumping cock, spilling down into the soft, quivering cleft between her buttocks and onto his balls. Dazzling flashes of light filled her head as she continued to grunt out her climax, her vaginal juices still seeping out of her onto the full trembling globes of her uncontrollably jerking buttocks.
Suddenly he reached the top, the long-awaited pinnacle of his young male need, and began to squirt his hot sticky cum into the uttermost depths of her hungrily clasping cunt. Her mind flashed on and off in unthinking sensuality as the strong scorching spurts surged against her womb, filling her to overflowing. She clenched her vaginal muscles and milked thirstily at the wildly spewing prick until he could do nothing but stand there limply, breathing hard in a desperate effort to fill his lungs with the air they needed. His sperm poured out of her in a riverlike flow and formed a small lake between her thighs, finally building to the point where it was too much and began to trickle in long white streams over the edge and down to form an obscene puddle on the floor between Mike's feet.
At last he pulled out of her and his deflating cock made a soft hissing sound like a cork popping from a wine bottle as her pussy lips reluctantly released it. Judith whimpered and ran her hands through her hair, her legs trembling, her sweat-soaked stomach quaking as the last throes of her orgasm weakened and left her drained of strength.
After a long silence, except for their dwindling gaspings for breath, Judith slowly took hold of the table edges and pulled herself up to a sitting position. Sitting there with her cum-moistened legs dangling down over the end of her perch, she raised her eyes and saw that Mike was sitting slouched on a chair by the jimmied heater. Then she suddenly snapped back to the realization of what their wonderful fuck session was all about. Good Lord, she did not even know whether her fatigued lover's wife had seen it or not! ...What if Leslie had missed Mike so much that she had gone somewhere else to look for him and had just forgotten the noon appointment?
Well, there was no sense in backing out now, Judith resolved. She would have to play it as if she were absolutely certain that Leslie had seen them together, hopefully during the last minutes of that delightful session.
"Mike, listen to me a minute," Judith said evenly. He shook his head violently, like a man trying to come out of sleepiness, and looked over at her with a wide grin of satisfaction lifting his loose lips.
"Yeah, baby, I'll listen."
"I just want to say that there's plenty more of this coming," Judith promised, "if...and only if...you and your sweet little wife are willing to join the local club."
"Huh? What club?" he asked with a look of puzzlement.
"Leslie will tell you-if you're interested. You might find it quite an interesting pastime," she added with a feminine smile as she got off the table and crossed to the glowing butane heater, kneeling and rubbing her hands together as her cooling body absorbed the waves of warmth radiating outwards from the unit. "You were grand, no kidding, but you'd better go home now before Leslie comes looking for you...Just remember what I said-you know, about the club where we all have fun."
Mystified, the tired young veteran rose and started to dress, wondering about the "club" and what his wife was doing at home while she waited for him. Now, now that he and Judith were finished for at least that afternoon, he felt less cocky and confident about being able to stroll over and take the thirtyish, sexy brunette whenever he wanted to. "Okay, I'll remember...and I'll find out what the hell you're talking about from her."
"That's good. Do that...and thank you for a great afternoon, even though you never did get around to fixing my 'other' heater," Judith said gloatingly as Mike stood by the back door, buttoning up his jacket. Then, without so much as a goodbye, he pulled on the knob and stepped outside with a sheepish, strained expression on his face.
CHAPTER 4
Leslie waited impatiently in the front room, her wrath building higher with each passing moment as she pictured the disgusting scene of her husband's betrayal with her girlfriend and neighbor, Judith Harrington. The angry young blonde was waiting there, in the living room, because she guessed that he would probably come in the front door to keep up the pretense that he had been out there stewing all this time in their garage. He would expect her to be in the kitchen, dutifully preparing some tasty dish for his dinner.
She was doubly infuriated as she fully realized how gullible she had really been in thinking that he had been out there, nursing his injured pride, while she had fretted and blamed herself for all the trouble and heartbreak in their new marriage. From now on, she thought, she flatly refused to be the scapegoat in their marriageif there was still a marriage to save.
Her thoughts turned then to Judith Harrington, her so-called friend, the neighbor she had so respected and trusted. The woman had had the gall to suggest that she become entangled in the handy local partner-swapping group. After all, it was only fun, a harmless kind of entertainment. To Leslie, it sounded like a lot of depraved sex-fiends who very casually traded mates as though they were mere currency to buy evenings full of weird kicks. As lonely and desolate as Leslie had been then, without Mike, the very thought of getting into bed with perfect strangers at random filled her with repulsion. She would be hardly more than a prostitute. At the time of the suggestion, she had been bowled over by the idea that Judith was actually able to do such a thing.
But the longer Leslie sat there mulling it over, the more she began to wonder if she had not been just as much a fool then as she had today, trusting, believing, saving her body for the man she had married. Perhaps she had been wrong to be so silly and afraid, so bluffed by what she had thought was her role as a loyal, waiting housewife...Perhaps she should have had the good sense to seize on a good opportunity when it presented itself. Why not? Mike, her hero husband, was certainly not bothering to be faithful to her. She had just seen proof of that.
"All right, Mike, you asked for it...Now you're going to get it," she decided aloud, her fresh young facial features glowing at the revenge she had in store for him.
Suddenly there was a noise at the front door and, just as she had predicted, Mike appeared in the living room, stripping off his jacket as he stomped up the stairs to the front room. He flung the jacket over the top railing and blew into his folded hands, finally tossing a furtive glance at Leslie. She gave no sign that she had even noticed his entrance and continued to sit there, sullen and uncommunicative, as she stared down at a magazine she had grabbed up quickly, at the sound of the door opening, to camouflage her real feelings.
They were silent for a moment while Mike cast about in his mind for something appropriate to say to her.
"Look, about our little misunderstanding this morning, try not to worry about it," Mike generously offered as an opener. It was all Leslie could do to restrain the burst of sardonic laughter that rose to her throat. My God, he was actually being kind! Well, she could afford to be kind too if she had just come home from a bout of love-making with an attractive neighbor.
"But we've just got to do some serious thinking about your problems, Leslie," he added almost harshly, amending what even he realized might have been too much leeway in his opening remark. "But let's forget it for right now, okay? ...By the way, what's for dinner this evening?"
"I really don't know-I haven't thought about it...Why don't you fix us some fried eggs, darling? You shouldn't have any trouble handling that, a big man like you," Leslie said sarcastically. She did not even lift her eyes from the magazine she held, still pretending to be wholly engrossed in the contents. She was prepared for the outburst of indignation that she knew would not be very long in coming.
Mike could not believe his ears. She had never displayed outright insolence or ever been anything but eager and willing to serve him like a slave...except in bed...since he had known her. And now she was just sitting there, had not even bothered to look up at him, even though normally she would already be flying around the kitchen to make something special for their Sunday dinner. It must be that the little idiot was still upset from their tiff this morning, he concluded readily as he sat down in a chair opposite her. It was only that she felt hurt because he had been gone so long and was just waiting for him to say something sweet, a few love-words to show her that all was well between them. But Jesus, how should he have known that what started out to be a friendly gesture towards Judith would assume such gigantic proportions? The redheaded lad knew that he would have relented and come back inside from the garage long ago, had it not been for the unexpected outcome of his visit next door to the Harrington place. But there was no way to explain it, no apparent excuse he could give her without revealing everything. She would forgive him if she knew what had happened, if somehow she could understand how his mind had been taken over by raw lust, clouded, and how deeply guilty he felt for having vented his sexual needs behind her back.
"Leslie, come on now, I've already said that it's all right about this morning," he soothed. At that, he saw her blue eyes snap up to glare hatefully at him as she threw the magazine to one side and leaned slowly forward from her seat, taking a long deep breath before she spoke.
"Oh, so it's all right-because you say so," she fumed. He could hear the accusation in her voice and sat nervously in his chair, squirming, watching her young, pretty, finely etched face darken with the intense fury she obviously felt.
"Sure, honey, it's okay. Why not?"
"Why-why not? ...." Leslie asked contemptuously. Then she remembered her purpose and deliberately lowered her voice as she went on. "Mike, forgive me, I was just jealous for a minute. It wasn't fair and I'm sorry...Of all people, I don't have any reason to blame you."
"What're you talking about?" he demanded, his greenish hazel eyes searchingly alert.
"I'm talking about today, of course, when you were with Judith in her kitchen...I saw," Leslie sighed with acceptance, steeling herself to keep her tears back as the vivid picture of him with their neighbor once again blared in her brain.
"You...you saw...what?" Mike stammered with disbelief but dread that she might be telling the truth.
"I saw you and Judith having a little fun, that's all. She was spread out on the kitchen table while you...while you...fucked her," the blonde said, managing to feign a little grin of conspiratorial understanding as she purposely used the four letter word. Her incredulous husband shook his head slowly from side to side, trying to comprehend what she was saying. She had actually seen him screwing Judith -she must have-and here she was talking about the act of infidelity and using that word almost casually. Nothing made sense about it. He and his wife were failing together sexually, and yet Leslie could admit that she had seen him fucking like an animal into another woman without falling apart, as most women would, especially when the other woman was Judith Harrington. He began to wonder if he were losing his mind.
"But don't you care...at all?" he asked.
"You know better than that," she answered vaguely. "Didn't she mention the local group?"
"Yes, she did, but...."
"Do you mean she didn't tell you about me?" This was a crucial moment in Leslie's revenge, as she had no way of knowing whether the older woman had divulged that the young wife had rejected the offer to join the fun-and-games group in no uncertain terms. The expression on Mike's face, though, seemed to be proof that he had no knowledge of the factual truth.
"No, she didn't. She said I should ask you about it. Okay, baby, I'm asking," he barked.
"Now don't get huffy, sweetheart," she lied with cold restraint. "It's just that I'm a member. I joined a couple of months after you left. It was a cinch because they let me in on the promise that you would join too as soon as you got home...No one can get in unless they bring another person of the opposite sex."
Mike's face collapsed as if some tremendous magnetic pull were drawing down his facial skin to the floor under his feet. He wanted to back out of the room, to run, to wipe off what she had said from the mental slate of his memory. It was as though the possibility that she was kidding him was the only grappling hook he had left to keep from screaming out his jealous rage. Not Leslie, not his own naive lovely wife, not committing adultery in a swapping group! ...Then the imagined reality of other men touching her, putting themselves into her most intimate places, blazed through him with all the ferocity and pain of a razor-sharp knife slicing cruelly through live, sensitive flesh.
He steadied himself with masochistic determination and asked for the grisly details.
"How many times have you gone to these...meetings?" he asked in a quivering voice. "How many men have you taken on...altogether?"
"Well, golly, I...don't...remember...I went every week...at least once...and there were lots of people at each session," Leslie lied, sorry for him and yet delighting in the effect the lurid falsehood was having on her cheating sneak of a husband. She only hoped that he did not ask for information about which she knew nothing at all.
"How many?" he snarled.
"Mike, I've told you, I just can't remember how many...I suppose that's because there were...so many," she said softly. She saw how her artful lie was affecting him-his face was bloodless and he was having trouble controlling his shaking body. She felt another wave of sympathy for him, but then the vision of his hard young body standing over Judith's prostrate form on the table took command of her senses all over again.
"Goddammit, you little slut! I had to get some pussy somewhere...I can't get it at home!" Mike shouted. "And now you tell me you've been out whoring around while I was away!" Leslie was stunned by the force of his anger and what he had said about her "whoring"...Oh, if he only knew, she cried inwardly, if he only knew. She had wept alone in bed, night after night, yearning for him, needing him, idolizing him. The thought of another man had never crossed her mind; no woman could have been more loving and loyal to her faraway husband. Gradually, the very fact that he actually believed her tale about the swap club stirred her ire all the more.
"Tell me, Mike, just how did you get your 'satisfaction' while you were away?" she thrust. "Were there plenty of Judith Harringtons in Vietnam?"
"Plenty, baby plenty!" he boomed in answer.
"Oh...."
"Yeah, only better," the angry redhead confirmed. He watched Leslie wince and then sit up bravely, blinking her lashes rapidly for a moment.
"The men I had were good too," she retaliated. Mike stood up tall, every inch of his lithe form trembling with emotion. She was afraid that he was going to lash out and hit her, but she kept on with her tormenting game. "Oh, I guess there were a few who didn't quite come up to par."
"You fucking little whore!"
"Mike, about the group...I was only...."
"Whore, whore!" he chanted as the delirious tides of anger overcame his senses. "Get undressed, Leslie!" He could not see the look of regret on her pretty face, that she had only lied about being unfaithful and was sorry now.
"Darling, I-" she began.
"Goddammit, I told you to get those goddamn clothes off," he ordered again. When she failed to obey and just sat there with pleading in her eyes, he took another step forward and reached out to seize the front of her blouse, tearing it wide open with one brutal cloth-rending yank. She opened her mouth in an O of horror, but was too paralyzed with fear to move. He reached out again, snarling as he hooked his big fingers under her fresh, white laceedged bra and pulled with all his might while gripping her shoulder with his other hand for leverage. The delicate under-garment gave and ripped free, her naked white breasts bouncing like fleshy rubber melons with pink cherries on the tips.
"Darling, please, listen to me, let me explain," Leslie sobbed up at her furious husband. But his eyes and ears were shut off to everything but the thought that she had been screwing other men-men who were strangers to him! She collapsed back on the couch in a frightened, helpless heap. There was nothing else she could do, her fair-skinned face coloring red from the shame and humiliation of his eyes locked hotly on her high, heaving young breasts standing out from her shredded blouse.
"Yes, explain. Tell me how all those nice hard cocks felt up in your cheating little cunt," he said coldly. Without waiting for an answer, he looked down at her waist with contemptuous hatred in his eyes. Then he sat down beside her and, still glaring, unbuttoned the side of her skirt enough to grab the open flaps with both hands and rip it all the way down the seam. There was nothing she could say-her words wrould sound pathetic and useless even to her. She saw him staring at her round, pale-white thighs, naked now, and watched his eyes flick higher to rest for an endless moment on the brief panty-crotch that protected her pubic mound and the slit below. Suddenly he raised both hands and leaned closer, grasping her slender shoulders so roughly that his fingers dug deep into the softness of her aching flesh.
"I'm warning you, you'd better tell me. How many men have you been fucked by since we've been married?" he demanded steelily, his face within inches of hers. Holy Christ, what a chump he had been! After months and months of sexual frustration, he had come home to her and believed that his hard-ons frightened her. He had been gentle, romantic, understanding...patient. Until today, anyway. And all the time, Leslie had been pretending innocence to worm out of letting him inside her. Hell, she was tired, that was all! And no wonder, after all those times she had fucked every horny son-of-a-bitch in Pettsville!! !
"Take off your panties, slut, because I want my share of that hot little tail too," Mike said ominously. The luscious young blonde half lay there in shock, her mutilated clothes useless now, like torn paper wrappings, as she saw his open hand draw back. He slapped her hard, flat across her defenseless cheek, and her head jerked to one side so violently that she thought her neck was broken. She tried to twist away from his madness and rolled desperately to one side of the couch. But he reached over to catch a handful of her soft blonde hair and jerked her back to him.
"Mike, for God's sake, please listen to me," Leslie pleaded in vain.
"Sure, I'll listen," he spat at her. Then he slapped her again, this time on her other cheek, and the tender skin glowed and stung as though she had been doused with acid. She fought and struggled now for fear that he was going to do something desperate in his rage, kicking and scratching at him with all her strength. They were a tangled mass of arms and limbs and suddenly in surprise they rolled from the couch and fell to the thick carpet on the floor.
Leslie was on the bottom and felt the full weight of their impact against her back. Mike raised himself a little and straddled her cringing belly, the fingers of one hand locked on her throat as with his other hand he reached down between them and tore brutally at her flimsy nylon panties.
"Oh, please, please, Mike, not this way!" she cried frantically. In her terror, she knew that he fully intended to rape her, to screw her like the common little slut he thought she was. Then, she felt his weight lift slightly and heard the sound of his trouser zipper being drawn down. Big tears streamed now in flowing wet trails down the sides of her cheeks as she felt him pulling her legs cruelly apart on the floor.
"Darling, let's talk," she whimpered futilely, hoping to reason with him. But his eyes were filmed over with lust now and she felt him drop down to his knees between her thighs, holding his thick throbbing cock in readiness with both hands. Then, knocking her almost breathless, he fell forward across her body and began to hump on her, spearing his blunt-headed penis into her thighs and vaginal cleft without bothering to aim. The hard cock hit her once in the tender crevice between her vainly resisting buttocks and she jumped as if a red-hot poker had been jammed against her.
"Ooooch, it hurts," she sobbed.
Then he found her! The slippery tip of his huge cock rammed searingly between her cringing vaginal lips, sinking into her almost an inch and spreading the tiny elastic hole grotesquely. He pushed again and went into his wife another inch.
. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaagggghhhhh!" she screamed in agony. "Nooo, noooooo, it's kiiilllllinnnnngg me I"
"Why, baby? It's just like all the other cocks you've had," he grunted as he sank four more inches of rod in her tight, unprepared young pussy.
"Helllllp, aaaaaaeeeeee, kiiiillllllliiiinnnnngg meeee," the tortured young wife shrieked in pain and fear. She felt him gather himself for something horrible-and then it came! He lunged forward with all his might and sank the monstrous cock into her stomach all the way up to the hilt. Then, without mercy, he began immediately to fuck into her with hard, brutal thrusts, not caring about her pain or tears as she twisted in agony beneath his flailing body. He reached out to the sides of his hips and shoved his hands under the backs of her thighs, lifting them up and back until she was bent almost double and her knees scraped the carpet up over her shoulders. She groaned again and again in anguish as he slammed into her inhumanly contorted body with long, savage strokes that jarred the full length of his hard throbbing penis. His driving groin smacked hard against the plane of her upturned buttocks, buffeting her head harshly back and forward so that they inched along the floor like animals. The smacking of his loins against hers resounded through the room like the sound of flat paddles spanking the cheeks of a woman's water-wet buttocks.
Suddenly she let out a low piteous moan that brought out no response from Mike's twisted lips. He only gave her an extra hard thrust that drove him up against her sensitive cervix and she was certain that her insides were ruined. To lie beneath her own husband and be treated like the lowest of whores, used to vent his lust and anger against, oh! it was the most horrid thing she had ever endured. Her thoughts rambled feverishly as though all feeling had been ripped free of her nerves. She was being used and raped to the point that nothing came through to her now. There was no agony left in her body to call on, only the horrible humiliation and shame of this nightmarish rape of her body by her own recently-returned husband. She lay unresisting now, passively accepting his stormy passion.
"How's this, you cheating bitch! Uhhh," he groaned, ramming farther and farther into her dilated cunt, bruising and spreading the walls wider as the thick head drove inward. Then he dropped his hands from her thighs and slipped them under the soft white globes of her firm young ass-cheeks, cupping them tightly and digging his fingernails into her to stress the fact that he wanted to hurt and debase her in a way she would never forget.
"I asked you a question, whore. How do you like it?" he snarled again when she gave no answer. "Huh?" he emphasized with another vicious lunge.
"Ooh, oh darling, I...was...here...always," Leslie managed to gasp out breathlessly. "I...was...."
"Here! You fucked here, at home!" Mike shouted finally into her face, deafening her, increasing the tempo of his punishing impalement until she could not even speak...explain. It was too late, too late for anything but his desire and rage.
"Put some action into that little 'neighborhood pussy,' now!" he commanded. She knew that he would not listen to reason, even if she were able to say it, and, sobbing, she began a slow mechanical grinding motion of her backside, pushing her hips up against his thrusting loins to escape the nails digging painfully into her flesh. Small welts followed their path and her shame and sense of debasement grew with each additional minute that he used her so savagely.
He could feel his orgasm closing in, filling his balls for the second time that day. He was going to spew it into her, not lovingly but with anger, and he was not in the least sorry. She deserved it, by God, that and more!
She could sense that something was happening inside him. He was going to empty his sperm deep up into her womb. She had feared and dreamed of this moment, but not with her Mike, her own handsome husband, rutting over her like a wild beast over a bitch mate. She had wanted it to be beautiful, a tender fusing of love with their bodies, not this primitive attack...this angry, lust-powered onslaught on the living room floor.
He levered higher on her and quickened his thrusts until the pace was incredible. He kneaded and dug into her flesh beneath him without being conscious of her whimperings of pain and humiliation. No, he wanted to destroy her, to fuck this treacherous bitch half to death, the wife who had been screwing other men all the time he had been gone. His cock expanded and throbbed inside her until he thought it would split down the side, explode from the anger and hate that reigned over his body now.
Then the expected explosion came. Leslie cringed under him as she felt the first thin hot rush of his sperm begin to empty out deep in her ravaged cunt. The thought that he had just a short time ago done the same thing inside her girlfriend Judith crossed her mind as she felt the warm sticky fluid filling her and causing a sudden sensation of pleasure and wicked eroticism to ripple through her.
"Gawwwd," Mike groaned as he shot the last spurt of his load into his skewered young blonde wife.
After a moment of rest, he crawled from between her thighs and saw a trickle of his sperm beginning to ooze from Leslie's open puffed-up pussy. She lay with her eyes closed tightly against reality, beaten and humiliated, her legs still spread obscenely wide as he had left them, her loins wet and bruised from the surprise rape they had been subjected to. She made no attempt to move as she heard the somehow obscene sound of Mike's zipper being drawn back up to close the fly of his jeans.
"You'd better ask Judith when we're expected at the first swap meeting. And don't forget, you cheating whore," he said almost calmly as he turned and walked off towards the back of the house with an expression of smug self-satisfaction on his face.
As she lay there, still dazed, she thought dimly of all the men she was supposed to have taken on...It was ironic, she smiled painfully, for if any of them were here now, they could crawl between her legs and fuck her silly. She could not resist or care, for now nothing mattered...Her whole dream of a normal, happy marriage had been shattered in one afternoon by the sight of her husband laboring over their neighbor Judith, and then the awful experience of the rape that had just ended. She began to wish she could miraculously dissolve into thin air. That way, she would not be forced to face the world again.
But she was young, alive, lovely, and she would have to find a way to cope with tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that. She rolled over on her side and slowly struggled into a position to get up. The pain all over her battered body was excruciating as she carefully rose to her feet and staggered across the room to stand in front of the full-length mirror on one wall. Her clothes were scattered behind her, some on the couch and some on the floor, but her pitifully torn blouse still hung in shreds from her shoulders, covering nothing. She studied the blotches of red and the welts marking her smooth white skin, uncaring, detached, and then reached up to gingerly feel her breasts, noting the dull throb from where Mike's rough hands had hurt the nipples.
So this is what a raped woman looks like, she mused, still examining her abused form in the mirror. It seemed as if the glass in front of her could sense that she was different now, no virgin anymore; nothing but a betrayed, raped young housewife with nothing left but her ravished body. Well, she thought, if all she had left was her body, maybe she would just have to use it to the best advantage. She could not see that she had any choice.
She turned around, then, and walked back with more certainty to gather up her ruined clothes. She was passing the kitchen when she remembered something that brought her to an abrupt halt. The nearly naked blonde walked slowly over to the breakfast table and leaned down to crumple in her palm the note she had left earlier for Mike. Then she slid the pad over and jotted down a reminder to herself:
"see judith tomorrow about the swap group"
The air in the bathroom was chill as she patted her body softly here and there with a washcloth, too beaten and exhausted to take the care necessary to thoroughly bathe herself. When she was finished, she would lie down for a nap in the other bedroom. She knew that Mike was in their bedroom-she heard him-and wanted to avoid any contact right now.
Her destiny had taken an odd course, a new direction, that day and she knew that from now on everything would be different. Her husband had a few surprises in store for him, ones that might shock her just as much, but the most important thing now was to finally stand up and claim her right to exist as a person.
CHAPTER 5
The afternoon sun slanted lazily through frosted windows into Judith's roomy, upstairs bedroom, throwing an almost blinding splash of light into their eyes as the yellow rays glanced off the dressing table mirror. The sun was also playing a kind of color tune on Leslie's long, flaxen hair, picking up its highlights, sparking them, so that the flowing blondeness seemed to move, shifting positions every few seconds.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Judith said as they sat staring at the windows. "It looks almost summery...You'd never guess that it's below freezing out there."
"No, you wouldn't," Leslie replied gauzily. Although she was staring at the sunlight, she was not really noticing it. Instead, she was thinking of that morning. She had forgotten to wake Mike until after eight o'clock, an hour after he usually got up to shave, dress and eat breakfast. She had forgotten to make coffee, too, and neglected to remember that Monday was laundry day. She had heard the truck whine by their house after only a moment's pause to check for the bundle that she would normally have put on the front porch. She had found herself forgetting everything. And the whole while, the one thing that she wanted most of all to forget remained like a bright, flashing neon in her mind.
"Leslie, now you're certain that you and Mike want to join?" Judith asked directly, bringing them both back to the reality of why they were sitting there, quietly, in the bedroom. Judith had not been surprised when her neighbor had appeared at the front door, now an hour ago, asking almost humbly if the older woman could spare some time to talk over something. Judith had not expected the girl to be quite so agreeable and had prepared herself to face anger and accusation. But this was anything but a violent reaction on Leslie's part. They had gone upstairs and sat down to discuss the terms of membership in the swap club, calmly, rationally, without any actual resistance or defensiveness between them.
"Yes, I'm certain. The last thing Mike said before leaving for work was 'Tell her we want to join'...So that's why I'm here, Judith, finding out about it."
"But what about you, honey, do you want this?" Judith asked, to make certain that Leslie was not just bluffing.
"Yes, I want it too," Leslie answered evenly. The tone of total resignation and acceptance in her voice convinced Judith that the beautiful, somehow withdrawn girl really did want to experience the excitement of uninhibited partner swapping. There was no glinting anticipation in Leslie's eyes, no sign of eagerness to enjoy the bodies of other men, but neither was there fear of the unexpected. The two women sat in silence for a moment as the sun lowered on the horizon and was less direct on the windows, shadows beginning to darken the formality of the expensive furniture and lend a strange peacefulness to the bedroom atmosphere.
"Did Mike tell you about yesterday...in the kitchen?" Judith wanted to know, her words piercing the shield of silence. She was positive that the young wife had seen him give at least part of his lewd performance downstairs in the kitchen, but the brunette had to hear it from Leslie.
"He didn't have to...you know that," Leslie said. "I saw you together, as I know you intended me to."
"Well, things sometimes happen that way, so don't blame anyone," Judith said quickly, protecting herself as well as the young couple from unwanted personal complications. "It doesn't mean anything more than sex. We took what we wanted and let it go at that. I think the group will help you understand what I'm saying." Her words were vague and sweeping, she knew, but they seemed to have the desired effect on Leslie.
"Oh, I'm not blaming anyone, honest. It may be that your show with Mike and the club will help our married life," Leslie assured, "because...because it...hasn't been what we want...And something has to be done!"
"Good, I'm glad you're finally being sensible," Judith cheered, "and I think you'll discover that you two can do more than work out personal problems. Why, you can even have fun."
"When is the next meeting?" Leslie asked, brushing aside the other woman's reference to fun.
"Let's see, now, I think we're all getting together Wednesday evening at George Mastin's place. His wife, Ethel, is so dizzy, though, that one can never trust what she says," Judith grinned. "I'll tell you what, I'll telephone you that afternoon to confirm the time and place."
"Fine, I'll be expecting your call...But right now I'd better hurry home and start Mike's dinner. After all, a man's stomach has to be kept happy too," the blonde quipped vivaciously. Judith was again astounded at how the usually moon-struck girl was taking all this, like a real woman. Yet, how Leslie behaved at the get-together itself would be the true test.
Two minutes later, Judith Harrington heard the front door slam shut and pictured Mike's pretty little wife crossing to her own house. It was growing cold in the room and darker, but Judith's scheme had been a success and now she was warmed by the delicious thought of all that would happen at the Mastin's house on Wednesday evening. Then it occurred to her that Mike and Leslie would probably be astonished at what they could learn in one night...things that would give even the redheaded young husband a bit of a jolt. But if they really did love each other, not even George Mastin's lustful, sneering manner would upset anyone. As far as she personally was concerned, the man was howlingly ridiculous, as crass and crude as he was ugly. But then, she had never had a chance to go to bed with him and had no way of knowing what he really had to offer in that respect-the only important respect.
Ethel Mastin had joined the group after her husband, but from what Judith had heard, that was no fault of hers. The auburn-haired thirty-five-year-old woman had been away visiting relatives when George had been recruited. After her return home, it had taken her less than a week to find an eligible neighborhood male with whom she could enter the swap club according to the rules. He was an architect, a young man of twenty-five, and a bachelor with no limiting scruples. Ethel had said that he had been thoroughly delighted with what he had found at the first session he attended with her. A host of eager, willing women of all ages and types-in short, a bachelor's dream.
Yes, indeed, Wednesday evening was going to be interesting, all right, Judith thought.
She looked at her wristwatch and sighed, noting that this was the time of the afternoon that her husband, Mark, usually telephoned her from wherever he was. It was strange, but he had not been in touch with her for over a week and she felt a little uncomfortable at not knowing exactly where he was. She rose and started downstairs so she would be close to the telephone, just in case. It would be a crying shame if Wednesday were spoiled, if for some reason she would be obliged to miss it with the others, especially the Stewarts, and lose out on the fun in store.
CHAPTER 6
Leslie had to admit that she was excited, despite her doubts and the attack of jittery nerves that had unexpectedly cropped up in her when Judith had called to say that the get-together was definitely "on" that evening at the Mastin's.
She surveyed the people milling from room to room in the lavishly, but gaudily, decorated Mastin home...While some of them were familiar to her, were home-owners who lived within a few blocks of Mike and her, others were complete strangers and seemed to be out-of-towners just visiting for the evening. But everyone was elegantly attired and moved and spoke with all the social formality one would expect to see at any average, innocuous cocktail party. From the way most of the men and women were paired off, drinking and chatting amiably as they sat in front of the huge fire crackling and sputtering in the enormous fireplace, it was hard to distinguish who was married to whom, or which men had escorted the women present. Those not warming themselves by the fire were standing in corners, refilling their glasses out in the kitchen, and some couples moved off and disappeared in other areas of the big house.
Mike had been silent on the drive over. But it had been nothing new, for they had not spoken more than a few dozen words to each other in the last three days. He was determined to punish her, that much was pretty well established, and now she was resolved to either make or break their relationship...if necessary, with the same type of shock he had subjected her to last Sunday afternoon. She would play along with whatever was required to break the sexual barrier in their marriage.
She could see him standing close to Ethel Mastin, a pert-bodied but vacuous-faced woman whose age looked to be far less than what it was...They were talking animatedly in a far corner of the room and appeared to be completely oblivious to everyone else around them. Leslie felt a sudden rising of jealousy but checked it immediately. This was no time to indulge her own emotions.
"So you're Leslie, eh?" a tall, skinny man of about forty said to her as he held out a tall glass full of a light-green liquid. My God, she thought, what an ogrish, hideous face he has, like some freak monster in a horror movie. Flustered, she accepted the drink without thinking and called upon her reserves of compassion in order to muster a strained smile to her face.
"Yes, I'm Leslie Stewart-and thank you for the drink."
"Hell, don't mention it, Leslie. I'm George Mastin. I own a couple of big gas stations. Well, you sure must've heard about me from everybody in town," he said boastingly, a wide grin smearing his misshapen, angular face.
"Yes, of course, Mr. Mastin, I've heard a lot about you," Leslie managed to lie. In truth, he had never heard of the man's name until Judith had told her that the meeting was scheduled to be at his house, but she did not want to offend him and, besides, there was the matter of the rules to consider. Judith had once again been adamant about the necessity of strictly following them, no matter how peculiar they might seem at first. The one rule their neighbor had taken extra care to stress was that personalities were not an issue as far as sex was concerned.
"And that's my little Ethel over there, the good-looking broad talking a mile a minute to your hubby," George said with a wave of his hands towards the couple. He was already a little drunk and occasionally wavered close to Leslie, catching her arm to steady himself and nearly pulling her off balance with him.
"I know, Mr. Mastin. Judith introduced us when Mike and I arrived. She's very pretty," Leslie said.
"Yeah, she's pretty...and a damned good lay."
"What is this we're drinking?" Leslie inquired in an attempt to temporarily divert the direction the conversation was taking. She had taken a few sips of the strange substance and could not identify it, but she was no drinker and had no real way of knowing if it was a common liquor or not.
"It's just French stuff, honey. It'll make you feel good," George slurred as he lifted his own glass for another ungentlemanly slug of the contents of his own portion. The first glow from what she had drunk was hitting her with a nerve-tingling prickle of sensation that was altogether unlike any other reaction she had known on the times she had indulged.
"Shit, there they go," the ugly man announced, delighted, as he pointed to Mike and Ethel walking off arm-in-arm down the corridor that led towards the back rooms of the house. "She'll have him all fired up and hotter'n a stud horse in a few minutes...I know my Ethel."
"I hope they have a good time," she beamed as she nodded and swallowed back the cry of protest that automatically rose to her throat. Mike had not even had the courtesy to look back at her, to give her, his wife, the slightest sign of recognition that she existed and might be suffering under the circumstances. She loved him so much, so deeply, that she was willing to do anything to keep him, even if it meant going to bed with some stranger at the party that evening. Now, though, she wished that her boorish host, George, would leave her alone so that whomever she was expected to be with would come along and the sordid business would be over with. She was strong enough now to bear whatever she had to do, she thought, but if she was kept waiting much longer, her courage might fail her and the whole ordeal turn out to be even worse.
Then she watched Judith drift off with the young architect, a good-looking young bachelor named Bill, whom Leslie had been introduced to soon after she and her husband had arrived. The chic brunette was leading the bachelor off in the same direction that Mike and Ethel had gone.
"Looks like everybody's getting the same idea, don't it, baby?" George said with the same lewd sneer on his face that now seemed to be an expression he wore almost perpetually. "You know, even though my Ethel's a hot little number, you're no slouch yourself. Matter of fact, I think I'm gettin' the best deal tonight." With that, he put his arm down at his side and reached out to give Leslie's behind a playful, intimate pat. Normally, her immediate reaction to such insulting presumption on his, or any other man's, part would be to turn around and slap the offender's face with all her might. But not tonight-there was just too much at stake now and she knew that she had to curb her personal feelings, even though it meant having to suffer this repulsive man's impudence. God knows, she did not want to ruin the whole affair by insulting her host...Mike would never even consider trying to work things out, ever again, if she embarrassed him by being a "square" in front of all these sophisitcated, swinging people.
"How's that green stuff in your glass? Feel anything yet?" George asked, screwing up his freakish face to give her a lascivious wink.
"It's nice, Mr. Mastin...kind of sweet," she said sweetly, shaking her long, honey-colored mane of hair as she nodded her head up and down to show how much she liked it. Actually, she really was beginning to like the strange taste of the cocktail and lifted the tall glass to her lips for another drink, this time taking down a greater amount than she had been. The stuff was relaxing her all over and she felt a warm pleasant glow spreading out from her tummy to her limbs, and her mind was not filled now with any hints of the thoughts that she had been trying to fight off before. She found that she could fully admit to herself without shaking inside that Mike was off somewhere in the house with Ethel, probably alone with the sorrel-haired hostess in some room...getting ready to do to her what he had done to Judith that day. That day? Golly, it seemed ages ago and it was just last Sunday.
She swallowed off the rest of her drink and began to wonder which man she would draw for the evening's fun. She flushed slightly at the thought but could not keep herself from sweeping her eyes around the now less-crowded room at the guests who were still engaged in conversation and drinking the same greenish concoction that she had just finished. Some of the men were awfully attractive and well-dressed and gave an appearance of suave charm. Several of them had been watching her out of the corners of their eyes as they talked with their own women. But Leslie was not sure that all of these people were members of the group, since many of them looked much too dignified and reserved to be involved in a partner-swapping group. She wished she knew the full score about how these club sessions were arranged...and what she was supposed to do. Whatever, she hoped that too much would not be demanded of her and yet if she drank enough at first, she could probably go through with it. It would be something she would never have dreamed of before last Sunday's shocking events, but maybe it would somehow help save her relationship with her husband and at the same time give him back some of his own medicine.
"Yesiree, I'm pretty damned sure I'm gettin' the best end of the deal, now that I've had a good look at you," George said. Leslie had forgotten about him standing close beside her and was startled for a second at the sound of his voice. He was still giving her that freakish grin, a kind of grimace between a smile and a sneer, as he ran his eyes appreciatively over the full length of her curvaceous young body. She felt a little shiver run through her as he undressed her with his eyes and suddenly it hit her with full force what he had meant by saying that he was getting the best deal. Good Lord, he, this ugly creep, actually intended to take her to bed!
"I-I don't understand, Mr. Mastin," she said, hoping that he would laughingly admit that he was only kidding and her dreadful suspicion would be proved wrong.
"Come on, Leslie, call me George," he said as he gave her another, harder pat on her firm buttocks. "And what do you mean you don't understand? Didn't anyone tell you the rules? First-timers make it with whoever's holdin' the party...Well, Ethel and me's givin' this one and that's why your hubby's with my old lady, 'cause you're with me, baby. You're damned lucky, too, 'cause I'm about the best lay in town."
"Oh, no...I can't," Leslie protested meekly.
"Goddammit, you'd better or go tell your horny husband that it's all off, done!" he said threateningly. She was momentarily repulsed by the thought of letting this beast touch her, but then she remembered that, like them or not, she had agreed to play the swap game according to the rules. And there was Mike-he would only laugh sarcastically and say that she was more concerned with her silly fear of sex than doing something that might help solve their crippling sexual problems. Not only that, he was having his share of the fun, she rationalized, remembering the sight of him heading off with Ethel towards the rear of the house. What could she lose? She was no virgin anymore, anyway.
"No, you didn't understand what I meant, Mr.
Mastin...I mean, George...I only meant I can't be like everyone else until I know what I'm supposed to do. But now you've explained, so it's okay," she said persuasively, an apologetic smile on her face. Slowly, her panic lessened and calm resignation once more came over her as she stood waiting for fate to take its toll. The skinny man seemed to be satisfied with what she had said and pressed closer to her, circling her waist with his right arm as he guided them through the others blocking the path to the dimly-lighted corridor that Mike and so many others had taken that night.
"George, may I have some more of that French cocktail first?"
"Sure, just a sec," he promised as he veered into the kitchen and left her standing there. Despite her decision to play by the rules, she wanted some more fortification to deaden her nerves and make her less aware of what was to come. She was trying, to be brave but she still had a little modesty left and making love with George Mastin would hardly be a grand experience.
He returned in no time at all with a nearly full bottle of the exotic liquor in one hand, spilling some as he walked, and when he came up to her he grabbed the blonde housewife's waist again. They had walked only a few feet when Leslie stopped in her tracks and pointed to the bottle.
"Is it all right if I have some...first," she asked gently as she reached for the bottle. He shrugged his bony shoulders and stood waiting impatiently as she hoisted it with both hands to her mouth and drank several generous shots, more than had been in her full glass. The liquid flowed smoothly down her throat, cooling it, and she could feel it taking hold. When that had settled, she raised the bottle again and gulped down some more, grateful for the glowing liglitheaded feeling it gave her. But there was more than just the relaxing effect; now there was a sort of teasing tickle, a faintly erotic sensation in her breasts and pulsing with increasing intensity down in her pubic region.
"Jeez, you really like that stuff, huh? Good, you'll be better later too," George muttered.
"Where are Mike and Ethel...which room?" Leslie said thickly, the liquor affecting her more and more. "Maybe we could join them and have even more kicks."
"Shit, that's a good idea, baby. They're right down there in that second room from the end," he pointed, aiming his finger at a closed door near the end of the hallway. "That's where she always likes to take them...plenty of room and three big beds if they get tired of screwing in the same bed and decide to change around. A little change once in awhile don't hurt nobody, right?" he chuckled with obvious delight in his own pun.
The notion of taking on this perfect stranger in the same room with Mike and Ethel gave Leslie a weird kind of amusement as well. She felt George nudge close again and then suddenly wrap hia arms around her as he leaned down to lock his sneering lips on hers, his tongue probing wetly into her mouth. At first she was taken off balance but an unanticipated thrill ran down her spine and she began to suck gently on the searching lance, letting her young body melt into his in the dimness of the corridor. She could feel herself begin to tremble from the excitement of another man's kiss, even this man's, and the last of her nervous doubt faded slowly away. He held the kiss long and hard and she could feel an acute jerk where his loins pressed into the softness of her stomach. He was getting hard down there and she sensed a sudden tensing in her own breasts as the tips smashed hard against his chest. Shame no longer pervaded her being and she had no desire to defend herself against this stranger who looked like a misfit in the human race. She felt a warm moisture between her youthful thighs and her own loins began an involuntary pushing movement against him.
"Goddam, I sure am ready to screw," he hissed at her after they had broken the kiss.
"Me too, right away," she purred. His words, obscene as they were, stimulated her more and the girl was not even ashamed of telling him that she was also anxious to start the raw act itself. She reached down between their bodies and boldly stroked his throbbing penis, feeling more wonderfully wicked and evil than she ever had before in all her life. The pulsing sensation in her breasts moved down her body to her thighs and danced there magically for a while as he sharply drew in his breath from the excitement of her touch. She was really special, a rare treat, and he was thankful as hell that Judith Harrington had introduced him to the club. Shit, where else could he dig up sweet young pieces like Leslie Stewart who were just as hot for a good honest fuck as he was and had been all his life? He planned to give her all she wantedand more!
"Get them clothes off," he ordered harshly, unable to stand the torment of his lust for her another moment. "I'll stick 'em in that closet with mine, so nobody'll know you ain't bein' a lady," he added with a snigger at what he again decided was further evidence of his own cleverness. Leslie's hands trembled slightly as she obeyed and unfastened her dress. She lifted the loosened garment over her head and dropped it carefully to the floor. Then she reached behind her again and unhooked her bra, sucking in her breath as the cool air laved her nipples and caused the rose-colored tips to leap to erection. The blonde dropped the dainty brassiere on top of her dress. That she was practically naked in front of a strange man sent thrilling chills over her flesh, exciting her more along with the drinks and the passion-inciting brief contact with George only a minute or so ago. The thought that she would soon be having sex with this man she hardly knew in a bed next to Mike added to the forbidden heat of the. adventure. As she slipped out of her black panties she could hear
George rapidly shedding his clothing and felt a tiny spark of amusement at his impatience to get at her.
"Give 'em here, baby," he said impatiently. She picked them up and handed them to him, watching him as he strode quickly to the closet and pulled it open to toss their discarded clothes on the handiest shelf. When he turned to come back, she gasped aloud at the awesome sight of his great jutting penis. It was much longer and thicker than Mike's and swayed heavily from side to side, despite its rising hardness, as he walked. It was absolutely fantastic, some kind of miracle! She could not believe her own eyes...and yet there it was, protruding outwards and upwards from his hairy groin like an enormous telephone pole. His testicles looked as big as good-sized lemons and danced far down between his scrawny thighs to the rhythm of his every step. Leslie was both astonished and fascinated at the same time by the unbelievable spectacle she witnessed. Heavens, did he really think that she could take such an abnormally huge cock inside her? Even Mike had nearly split her up the middle with his much smaller shaft.
When George had crossed the short distance back to her, he reached out again and began to run his hands over her naked flesh, pawing and squeezing the silky roundness until her amazement waned away and passion took over with renewed intensity. She stood still, her arms at her sides, trembling all over from the wicked sensations coursing through her. He dropped his head to her full, firm breast, cupping it with one hand, and sucked the hard throbbing nipple deep into his wet mouth. She groaned and swayed against the wall, almost falling. Her brain was spinning like a top but she had just enough reason left to push away.
"Please, George, let's go into the bedroom now," she whispered hoarsely. "I want Mike to see us together."
He shook his head in exasperation but grabbed her arm quickly and led her up to the door in question. He carefully eased it open and pushed it back until the room was filled with soft light from the hallway. Leslie's eyes were not used to the slightly darker interior and she allowed George to lead the way to the closest empty bed. Then, when she grew accustomed to the change and was able to get her bearings a little, she scanned the room until at last she was able to make out the outline of two people on the bed just opposite the one that she and George were standing by.
It was Ethel and Mike!
Even though Leslie knew they would be in there, her drugged mind reeled for an instant as her eyes began to adjust and she could focus more clearly on the woman who was bending over her husband's loins. Leslie could hear the strange sounds they made, sort of faint wet sucking noises, noises she had never heard before...She could not imagine what George's wife was doing to Mike, but then the couple's forms became distinct and she knew. Ethel was giving him what Leslie had heard about but never seen...a "blow-job" the term some of the girls in college had used to refer to the obscene sexual act. And the two of them were enjoying it so much that they were completely oblivious to the fact that the door was wide open and others were in the room with them.
What if this man wanted her to do the same thing to him? she thought to herself. Could she bring herself to perform the debasing act without wretching? She wished she had drunk more of the pale green liquid to make whatever was going to happen a little easier. But, in his haste to take advantage of her young body, George had left the bottle somewhere out in the hall after taking a final swig himself.
"Come on, let's get with it," her gawky-looking escort growled under his breath. He pushed the beautiful blonde backwards and guided her slowly down on the empty bed. The touch of it across her back gave her a charge of new sensation. It felt almost like doeskin and was warm and firm even though she had expected it to be cold. She squirmed her back against it like a sinuous cat and then sensed the bed sag from his weight as he lay down beside her. George seemed not to care whether or not he was quiet and swore appreciatively as he moved closer and felt the smooth, tantalizing curves of her body pressed warmly against his. Leslie was certain.that Mike and Ethel could hear them and would suddenly jump up in surprise to identify the intruders. But nothing happened and the lewd sucking sounds continued without letup.
Leslie waited quietly as George pressed his naked angularity closer to her softness, his huge cock digging into her thigh and smearing it with the slippery semen that leaked out from the hole on the end. He moved his hideous, snarling lips down to her shoulder and began to nibble on the smooth white skin, sending a lovely chill through her that raised tiny goose-bumps all over her. She quivered involuntarily from the sudden unexpected sensation and writhed with desire beneath him.
"That's soooooo nicccee," she sighed out, forgetting for that moment that her own husband was not more than a dozen feet away from her in the same room. She reached down and shamelessly grasped the mammoth cock gouging into her bare thigh with both hands. Her slim fingers were not long enough to encircle it but she gripped more firmly until he groaned and twitched against her. Then, edging over a few inches on the bed, away from him, she began to move both hands slowly up and down the tremendous length in a teasing milking motion. He groaned again, louder.
"I'm gonna screw you silly," he snarled viciously. "You're gonna get this big old prick stuck up in you like you never dreamed, you sweet little bitch."
Surely Mike had not missed hearing that, Leslie thought with gratifying revenge; he must know by now that she was lying there on the next bed with this grotesque, yet wonderfully-equipped freak of a man, George Mastin. She let loose a loud groan herself as George lowered his mouth to the closest swollen breast and bit down harshly on the pebble-hard nipple, tugging on it with clenched teeth as his eager tongue swirled hotly around the tip like a lizard running in tiny tight circles.
When she struggled to regain her senses a little, Leslie suddenly realized that the sucking sounds on the other bed had ceased and that the room was still except for George's fast panting gasps beside her. , "Come on, Mike honey, it's nothing but somebody else having fun over there, just like us. Let me finish sucking you off," a high female voice pled. Then there was a short silence and the sound of Ethel's lips nodding up and down on Mike's penis resumed the 'flame wet, slurping tempo as before.
But George was obviously not interested in paying attention to anything else but the delicious roundness of the young morsel who was driving him mad with her hands and the thought of what he was on the verge of doing to her. His mouth played on with her firm proud breasts, moving desperately from one to the other and sometimes pausing between them to lick wetly up and down the narrow valley they formed. After a few more minutes of feasting there, he bent his neck and slid his lips slowly down to her heaving belly, his cock slipping out of her hands as he backed up on his side to gain better access to her navel, bringing small gasps and mewls of pleasure from her open mouth. He shifted lower, then, maddening flashes of indecent pleasure trailing after his gently nipping teeth and teasing tongue. Leslie felt her soft creamy thighs being pressed rudely open and she gave no resistance as the gaunt, disgusting monster haunched down between them. She drew in her breath with a gulp as she felt his fingers spread open the down-fringed lips of her vagina and the coolness of the air caressed her there. His tongue flicked forward, the pointed tip darting out to moistly titillate the pulsing bud of her erect clitoris. He moved his fingers down and parted wide the entrance of her cunt as he ran his tongue down and thrust it deep in the palpitating opening.
"Oh yesss, that's gooooood," she assured him in a long low moan that filled the room. She splayed her legs out farther and pulled back her knees so that her bottom was turned up fully to his face. He kept up his beautiful cunt-licking until he was certain that she was aroused to the point where he wanted her.
"Okay, kid, roll over and get on your hands and knees so I can slip it to you dog-style," he said brusquely as he lifted his mouth from her fiery slit. She wanted to beg him to continue his thrilling tongue-fucking but obeyed without a word, hoping that he was going to do something even more wonderful to her still almost girlish but nevertheless enticingly shaped body. She raised herself up until she was crouching with all fours on the bed longways, her buttocks facing the man behind her. She felt his fingers begin to knead her flesh hungrily, crawling over her naked behind and finally descending down towards the crevice between the soft white moons. He spread them gently apart and searched lower with his fingers between the warm, throbbing lips of her pussy.
He pushed into her, moistening the tip of his middle finger from the wetness of her pussy secretions and slowly withdrew it to stroke up the crevice towards her tiny, virginal anus. He mumbled incoherently in the delirium of having this young voluptuous body twisting under the probing of his hands. The tip of his finger, slippery from her vaginal juices, circled tauntingly around the tight puckered ring guarding the entrance to her rectum for a moment and then dropped down for more of the lubricating moistness from her cunt.
After wetting the cringing nether ring again, he suddenly pushed in his finger with a sudden, unexpected thrust that sank it deep inside. Leslie jerked forward from the unexpected digging pain and George clamped his other hand solidly on her flank to prevent her from moving away.
"Aagghh," the blonde blurted out, choking back her scream to keep Mike from hearing proof of her agony. Despite how she was being hurt and humiliated, the last thing in the world she wanted was that her husband might discover that she was experiencing pain, not pleasure. Muffled grunts of protest escaped her lips as
George Mastin dug deeper and deeper, expanding the tightness of her rectum until she thought she would lose her mind from the cruel probing invasion of his finger. Then, just as the pain began to lessen a little, she felt his insert another finger alongside the first and begin to ream and stretch her in small excruciating jabs and rotations. There was nothing she could do but kneel there and submit to the fiendish desires of the ugly man behind her.
"Jesus, I'm gonna love this, baby. Feels like that tight little asshole is as cherry as can be," George whispered lewdly behind her as he continued his screwing and stretching of her back passage with both big-knuckled fingers.
"Please, George, s-stop," she begged softly as she twisted her head back to see the man hovering over her behind.
"Now don't you worry, sweetie. I'm only gonna show you somethin' new," he sneered evilly. He threw a hasty glance over at the couple on the next bed and grinned when he saw that they were both locked in the throes of their own lust, paying no mind at all to him and the girl before him.
Leslie could not bring herself to believe what he was proposing. This lewd, devil of a man must have lost his reason! She had prepared herself for almost anything, she thought; she had been willing to go along with whatever he wanted and had even been eager to show Mike that she could respond like a normal woman in bed...But this was not human! It was sick, depraved, horrible! Surely he had meant something else. No one, not even George Mastin, would actually make love to her there.
Shivering with fear, she clenched her legs and buttocks tightly together behind her in reaction to the awful thought. God knows, his two fingers had been agonizing alone-if he tried to put his huge penis in there, it would kill her. Then, through the haze of her dread, she felt George's strong wiry hands drawing the cheeks of her buttocks open. She tried hard to hold them tensed together but the pressure of this thumbs inserted in the moist crevice was more than she could resist. They were stretched cruelly away from each other until she could feel the rush of cool air against the hot valley between her legs. She sensed the tip of his finger again dropping to lubricate its length with her cuntal juices and pull away for a moment. Then she felt it once more, and again. The last time, though, he moved up to swab her own slippery moistness on the elastic entrance of her naked rectum as she squeezed the tiny portal tight in an effort to prevent the brutal penetration that she knew was coming.
Tears of shame and fright ran down her cheeks as she realized that he had not been kidding and fully intended to do what she suspected. He was really going to worm that long thing deep in her sensitive rectum in an unnatural act of lust that she had not even known existed. Leslie knew she would never live through it, that she could never again face others after this beastly murder of her pride. She cringed her backside away from him, but the attempt was useless, for he planted the sweating palm of his hand on the small of her back and pushed down hard, trapping her between the mattress and his surprisingly strong restraint.
He forced her trembling jack-knifed legs open wider with his knees, dropping his head to her ass-cheeks to lick wetly at the crevice between them, moistening the exposed tiny hole in readiness for the greater penetration.
"Move your ass up higher," the man suddenly snarled, anticipating with satanic glee this ultimate subjugation of her tender young body. He was positive that she had had damned little, if any, previous experience in bed with a man, and it gave him the greatest satisfaction possible to know that he was about to introduce the pretty little blonde housewife to the finer aspects of real sexual pleasure...But she had not obeyed him!
Leslie felt his hand on her hip jerk her smoothly rounded buttocks up high in the air behind her, waving there as if in open invitation to the cruel ravishment about to occur. Her anal flesh throbbed in abject defenselessness and she was held wide and helpless, presented up to him so that he could take her at will. Regardless of how terrible it would be, she made up her mind that she would be just as brave as she could and not let Mike know that she was suffering and ashamed. If she failed to hang onto herself, it would only confirm his belief that she was a silly coward and just one more frigid wife. As degrading as it was, George Mastin's rape of her behind might convince her sulking husband that they also could take joy in marital sex as often as they liked...and maybe later they would be happy enough with each other in bed and would not be forced to seek fulfillment with strangers.
George grasped impatiently at Leslie's hips, holding them steady before him as she felt the thick, massive cock-head impress itself in the moist naked split of her buttocks. She gasped in surprise at the first shocking contact. Oh God! God! she moaned inwardly, it would never, never fit! She could never take that in her rectum without being ripped to pieces! The terrified victim jerked forward again in another futile attempt to move away from him, but the man's hands quickly locked harder on her rounded flanks so she could not move. The hair of his thin legs brushed irritatingly against the insides of hers as his enormous searching cock probed along the crevice of her fleshy upturned globes. His hands worked down her buttocks until once again his thumbs poked forward to pry open the tight little hole of her futilely clenched anus. Then, she felt a probing between the thumbs that was smooth and rubbery at first and then became an unyielding bluntness. The tight, clenching anal flesh finally gave way before the torturous pressure and the hard, throbbing tip popped inside her with a quick jerk. Leslie swallowed a scream of anguish and then groaned again, but the choked-back sounds of her torment went unheeded. There was no help for her. She was alone in the world and all that existed was the searing agony of her anus from the huge glans splitting it open. The blunt intrusion of his thick cock vibrated through every fibre of her body, pushing the soft rubbery flesh of her widely-stretched rectal passage in great waves of pain before it. It drove into her backside ceaselessly like the bulging girth of an oak tree, impaling her on it. She moaned in submission with her eyes gaping open in horror until suddenly she felt the coarse hair of his groin grazing the youthful white orbs of her buttocks. His lustfully pulsating cock was buried in her all the way to the hilt and she was spitted on the throbbing hardness like a young lamb being served up for an aboriginal fete. She had never felt so used and debauched in her life...Not even her own husband's calloused rape of her cunt had been this completely obscene and debasing...If she could somehow survive this, she knew she could live through anything after.
George Mastin leered down like a demented maniac at the great measure of his punishing cock lunging into her. Even in the dim light he could see how it pulled thin ridges of her dilated flesh out with the base of his prick as he pulled back for another unmerciful lunge inside. Leslie could hear his growls of pleasure floating through the room and found herself wishing that her body would melt and deprive him of the sadistic delight it gave him.
* * *
Mark Harrington, a distinguished-looking man of late middle-age, rapped again at the door of tfce Mastin house. He had just driven back to Pettsville from Maine and was surprised to discover that his wife, Judith, was not at their home. While giving the house a cursory check for some clue to where she might be, he had found a memo pad beside the telephone on which was scribbled something about an appointment that Wednesday evening at George's place. At first, he wanted to telephone her there and spare himself an unnecessary trip in case he had read the memo wrong, but then, on a whim, he had decided to drive over and give her a little thrill with his sudden, unannounced appearance.
He knocked again. This time the not fully closed door sprang open and he heard the strains of upbeat music and a mixture of garbled human voices that seemed to rise and fall excitedly. It sounded like a party, he decided, and remembered the strange assortment of cars parked outside along the curb just in front of the house. After a moment of speculation, he pushed open the door and stepped quietly inside, turning then to ease the heavy door shut behind him. He started up the stairs and was about to call out for George or Ethel when he spotted what was taking place in the living room.
There were about eight people paired off and in varying states of undress as they fondled each other's exposed genitals or openly fucked and sucked one another. One couple was making it on the couch, another while sitting in an overstuffed chair, and the others were scattered around the room on the floor.
"Well, I'll be a son-of-a-bitch," Mark swore to himself in an undertone as he stood unnoticed halfway up the stairs and watched the erotic performances of the men and women before him. It was a damned stirring sight to behold and most of the women were attractive, shapely pieces, too. He was reminded of the hot secretary he had spent most of last week with shacking up in a lodge on the Maine coast, partaking at least once a day of her delectable feminine charms. He had forgotten to make his twice-weekly calls to Judith and, on the drive home, had wracked his brain to come up with a believable explanation for his failure to get in touch. But there was no great cause to worry, he thought, as his liaison with the torrid secretary had not been the first time he had taken advantage of his freedom on the road. There had been plenty of other girls, other lies to account for extended absences or the letters and calls she expected of him.
Then he began to wonder if Judith was there, and if so, where? What on earth would she be doing at an orgiastic affair like this? He realized that she was a passionate bitch, but she had always behaved herself around him as though he were the only desirable male in the entire universe. Maybe, just maybe...
"Hello there," a vixenish tall raven-haired woman said to him as she strode Iangorously out of the kitchen with a drink in her hand. She was clad in nothing but panties and a skimpy bra...Mark could see the dark patch of pubic hair showing through the veneer-like gauze of her underpants.
"Hello yourself, doll," Mark smiled. "I'm a friend of George Mastin's and just dropped by to see my wife...and maybe stay awhile to have some fun."
"Well, if you're looking for fun, you certainly came to the right place...We're having a ball tonight," the half-naked woman purred suggestively. "But wait a minute, are you a member of the club?"
"Club? ...Oh, yeah, don't worry," Mark affirmed as the truth of the situation dawned on him. He began to realize that he had unknowingly stumbled in on a session of some sort of sex cult or swapping group. The very idea amused him no end and it occurred to him that perhaps his unnecessarily long business trips had been cheating him out of exciting sexual escapades right here at home. Christ, when he wanted a strange piece of tail while stopping over in some city or remote sales area, he had to break his ass going through the usual pickup routine to get it.
"I was just wondering," the woman went on, "because I'm from out-of-town and I've never seen you at any of the meetings...but then, sometimes I forget the men I've been with."
"Well, I certainly wouldn't forget you, baby,"
Mark said flatteringly as he eyed her lean, feline body. "Maybe later, okay? Right now, though, can you tell me where a woman called Judith is? She's got shiny brown hair and a beautiful chest." The promiscuous-looking woman thought for several seconds with her fingernail scratching her chin and suddenly brightened with recognition.
"Sure, I know her. I met her this evening. I think she's with the architect guy in the last room on the right at the end of the hall over there," she pointed. "Here, have a big drink of this before you go back...It'll save time." Mark Harrington took the full glass she offered and drank down a few large gulps of the light green liquid, thanked her and moved off in the direction that she had suggested. His mind raced with curiosity and an inexplicable flood of relief as he approached the corridor.
"I'll be damned," he chortled as he considered the irony of the thing. Here he was, feeling guilty as hell because of the many times he had bedded down women behind Judith's back, and all the while she was skipping around to local orgies and getting all the cock she needed to keep her content. And he had never suspected a thing! So? He was certainly in no position to blame her, but he wished now that she had let him in on the deal so they could have been sharing the fun together...And more, if she really was back in the room with some horny stud, it would take a tremendous load of worry off his mind. They could be openly honest about the methods and partners they used to satisfy what were after all basic natural needs common to everyone.
He crept stealthily along the carpeted hallway, slipping quietly out of his coat and loosening his tie as he went. The last bedroom door was closed but the one next to it was swung fully open and just a few feet this side of it there was a partially-full bottle of the liquid that seemed to be the same as what he had drunk from the black-haired woman's glass. Whatever it was, it was agreeing with his system and he felt a feverish charge of exquisite pleasure tripping warmly through his nerves and eventually centering with prickling intensity in his loins.
"What the hell, I might as well have another nip," he mumbled as he stooped down to pick up the bottle. Tilting up the decanter-like vessel to his mouth, he drank two more substantial slugs and savored the smooth, velvety taste as it caressed his palate and flowed down his throat like a thin, soothing cream. A piquant spasm of sensuality seized him just as he heard the sounds of low moans and wetness echoing out of the room with the open door. After bending down to place his coat and the bottle side by side on the floor, he tip-toed quietly up to the doorway and peered cautiously inside. It took him only a moment to adjust his eyes to the fainter illumination in the bedroom and soon he could determine the sources of the strange sounds he had heard a few steps away in the hallway. There seemed to be two couples, one on each of the beds parallel to each other on either side of the room, and he could see them just well enough to tell that they were really going at it and did not know or care that he was watching. Then he took a careful step into the room for a better view of this interesting scene, his own desire beginning to charge his loins with sexual voltage. The woman on the bed to the left was draped over the thighs of some powerfully-built young buck, sucking his erect penis like an expert. Although he did not recognize the man, the woman looked familiar even in the dim light...He stepped closer to the couple on the chance he might be able to identify her.
Hell, it was Ethel! No wonder she was going at it with such competence and zeal, Mark tittered to himself, as he knew that Ethel Mastin loved sex so much that she rarely talked about anything else and had even subtly propositioned him several times when he and Judith had been drinking with the Mastins after dinner parties or during informal cocktail affairs at each other's homes. She was a damned promising, appealing wench, too, even if she was dumb, but he had been afraid to reciprocate with interested attention for fear that his own wife would notice and make life miserable for him with a tirade of jealousy as well as a demand that all his time away from home had to be accounted for on a day-to-day basis...which would have cut into his fun and freedom considerably.
Christ, if he had only known then what he had learned so far tonight!
Now, though, he was curious to know what was happening on the other bed and turned slowly to take the few prudently quiet steps necessary to see the action.
By God, it was old George himself, the ugly bastard, humping his skinny scarecrow of a body against some poor, sweet-looking girl's naked behind...Then, his curiosity provoking him on, Mark edged forward another foot for a better glimpse of the girl's face and was all but floored for a second when he finally recognized her, blonde hair and all...Leslie, the girl next door! Judith had told him all about her, how lonely and innocent she was with her new husband away in Vietnam, and then one day his wife had introduced him to the lovely young thing. He recalled thinking then that it was a shame and terrible waste that the girl's fine, enticing body was reserved for her soldier-husband and not getting the loving it probably needed. But her husband was supposed to be home now -Judith had mentioned it the last time he called her-and was working for a trucking firm in the area. And yet here she was, the same Leslie Stewart, making it with creepy George, the biggest clown in town. It made no sense whatsoever.
But Mark was more interested in the girl, not why she was there on the bed, and felt his cock jerk and stiffen in his trousers as he stood watching her whole body rock like a human earthquake from the slamming movements of the man behind her. Just the sight of it made
Mark boiling hot and he suddenly decided on the spot that he had to have a go at her too, right now! He hoped Judith was having a ball...a great one...because he planned to have one just as soon as he could get his clothes off.
Back in the corridor, Mark took another man-size belt of the green stuff in the bottle and put it down on the floor again, knocking it over accidentally in his frenzied haste to get himself ready for his share of the thrilling sport taking place in the bedroom...He paused briefly to watch the syrupy liquid spread in a stain on the carpet, soaking in, and shrugged his shoulders.
"The hell with it. I'll pay them...later," he frowned as his hands flew to his clothes and began hurriedly to unfasten buttons and zippers.
* * *
George Mastin's pelvis smacked loudly against Leslie's soft quivering ass-cheeks as he grunted and fucked to the depths of her rectum. His mammoth balls swung hard against the moist hole of her vagina and she whimpered, but like the slave she had become, she knelt there in degrading submission. The pain was not as intense now and a strange masochistic pleasure had taken hold of her body along with the discomfort. She began to push backwards, slowly at first, until suddenly the increased sensation it caused gained even more control of her and she found herself meeting his fiendish lunges faster and faster. Nothing seemed to matter now but the agony of the exquisite swirling sensations rippling over every inch of her lovely naked flesh. Despite everything, there was now only passion in the place of the shame and humiliation of before, and the uncontrollable spasms of delight grew wilder with each buffeting slam of his huge jabbing cock. She writhed and bucked beneath his wanton charges, gasping and muttering the few lewd words she knew that came to her anguished, doped mind.
George sensed her sudden lusty need and fucked into her with longer, deeper strokes. He tightened his grip on the rounded curves of her delicious white buttocks and started to pull her back over his thick inflated cock like slipping a sleeve over a huge arm. His eyes still bulged wide at the spectacle of her beautiful young body kneeling and twisting before him and the desire to hurt her tore through him as he drove forward with mighty thrusts that seared up her stretched asshole like a red-hot poker.
"Gaaaaaaaahlid!" she groaned helplessly, uncaring, but paused only a second before she began to fuck back again in time to the humping man's continuous rhythm. Suddenly, Leslie felt a hand groping out of nowhere at one of her wildly jiggling breasts, teasing the sensitive tip with light fingers. A rush of surprised delight coursed through her at the extra pleasure and she made no effort to avoid the bold, uninvited touch. Then she was vaguely conscious of the bed sinking a little as someone mounted it and moved up to just in front of her head.
"Here, baby, here's something else for you," a gruff male voice said above her. She opened her blue eyes as though out of sleep and saw a long, rigid penis jutting out from the hand that encircled its base, the glans only a few inches from her face. It was throbbing and ready but looked far more delicious than frightening to her. She actually wanted it, but how?
"Suck me, honey, just the way Ethel's sucking the guy on the other bed," the voice instructed eagerly.
"Yeah, go ahead," George said as he labored on behind her. "And do a good job, because he's a friend of mine."
She knew that this was a moment she should dread, but now, after all that had happened lately and so far this evening, it seemed a little silly to refuse. She was not even sure what she should do but the stranger's cock looked nice and she had already made up her mind to go all the way to save her marriage as well as revenge herself against Mike. Across the room, she could hear the sound of his ever-building ecstasy and managed to smile to herself as she thought of the shock he would feel when he finally saw his own pure little wife taking on two men at both ends at once.
Leslie was amazed at her own boldness as she continued to grind her buttocks back and meet George's pounding as well as she possibly could and at the same time bend up her arm to touch the cock in front of her. With both elbows still supporting her on the mattress, she pulled gently on the throbbing rod with one hand until the unknown man responded by moving forward on his knees until her lips were a bare inch away from the blood-filled head. She opened her mouth and breathed softly against it, allowing her hot breath to flow over the tip with a maddening slowness.
"Come on, suck it, suck it now," the anally impaled blonde heard him groan. But she taunted him a bit longer and then...as she skinned back the tiny bit of loose flesh just below the glans...her tongue flicked out, the pointed tip coming into warm wet contact with the end of the cock. She circled around the smooth rubbery flesh as the stranger moaned and twisted over her from the teasing she was giving him. The tip of her slowly exploring tongue found the small opening of the gland and darted wetly into it. It was already moist from the tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeping out from his rising desire. The sharp pungent taste and male odor caused her mouth to salivate and her nostrils to flare slightly. Her hand slid to the base of the hard prick, pushing his aside, and she gently grabed her nails over the soft, hairy flesh of his testicles.
She began to place moist warm kisses on the man's prick, beginning at the top and tracing a tantalizing path down the full length of it to the base, then wetly back up to the tip again. Leslie teased longer than she knew she should, but she was thoroughly rattled from the cock fucking her from behind and, even in her dazed state, found it difficult to take him into her mouth just yet...by her own choice.
But Mark Harrington was unable to wait. With the sudden strength of a bull, he reached down with his hands and grabbed two fistfuls of her long tawny hair, ramming his loins forward at her face. Leslie resisted at first, doubts springing up wildly in her mind, but it was too late to struggle. The thick spongy head crushed through her soft glistening lips, between the pearly white of her teeth and into the moistness of her mouth. She could feel the spongy stiffness rub along the full length of her tongue and imbed itself almost in her throat. She closed her eyes again to keep from choking and searched her brain uselessly for some magic means to escape the obscene thing in her head, filling her mouth with its pulsing thickness and protruding from her lips like a huge pulsating banana.
"Oooh, yes, that's fiiinnne, but suck harder, harrrrrder," Mark hissed down at her with selfish ardor until she began to pump her mouth up and down on him, her ovaled pink lips tightening for greater suction as she drew back to the swollen head.
* * *
It had taken Mike longer than he thought it would to reach his climax. Even though Ethel Mastin, their host's wife, had given him the best blow job of his life, his concentration had been interrupted several times by distracting gasps and other sounds from the bed on the opposite side of the room. It had sounded like a woman in pain, then sometimes as though she were insane with bursts of flaming erotic bliss. And he had heard male sounds, harsh commands and obscene grunts of satisfaction that he had been too impassioned to hear clearly enough to interpret. His face flushed with shame as he watched Ethel wipe the back of her hand across her chin to clean off the sticky remnants of the sperm that still leaked down from the corners of her mouth. This was the second time he had cheated with another woman behind Leslie's back...and he had enjoyed it again.
He wondered where she was now, if perhaps she had left for home when the going got rough in the living room. Sure, she had gone with him and play-acted, pretending not to be ruffled when the regular members got brazen and down to serious business. Nor had she made any trouble when he and George's wife had left for this very room. Still, he felt guilty and worried if some man had tried to drag Leslie off against her will for the same selfish reason he had come here and urged Ethel to suck him off.
"Hey, Mike, what's wrong with you?" Ethel asked indignantly. "You too tired to do me, now that you've had yours?"
"No, I was just resting a second," Mike answered, blinking open his eyes to gaze wearily at the impatient woman.
"Boy, you must be a sissy. Look over there at your wife-she isn't tired, not the way she's going," Ethel said with a jeer as she pointed across the room.
Godalmighty, it was Leslie! His wife! She was trapped between George and a man he had never seen before, grinding and bucking her ass back against one and then diving forward to get all she could of the other's cock in her mouth...The redhead lifted his head and turned on his side to take a long, careful look at the nakedly writhing trio, to make absolutely certain that his eyes were not playing a horrible trick on him...No, he was not hallucinating, seeing something not really there; even though his beautiful young wife's face was twisted with lust and her mouth was stretched and contorted almost beyond recognition, there was no doubt in his mind that it was his very own wife sandwiched obscenely between the pair of sex-crazed men...and seeming to like it! And he had been worried about her, afraid that she might be off crying or pouting somewhere!
After the initial shock of the story she had told him about her frequent attendance at the swap meetings, he had had doubts that it was true. But there was no doubt now. There she was, mumbling and crooning with an abandoned ecstasy that he had never been able to bring from her, no matter how hard he had tried.
"I wish I could be in her place now," Ethel complained as she too strained her eyes for a clear view of the lurid performance on the other bed. When she suddenly swiveled back to Mike and reached out to pull his face down towards her yearning groin, he pushed her aside and sat upright on the edge of the bed. He was raging with jealousy, but God, he was getting even more excited. He wished the light were brighter so he could see every detail. It was obvious that George's prick was unnaturally large and was stretching the helplessly impaled Leslie's tight, tiny back passage to impossible dimensions as the man pistoned in and out between the smooth yielding cheeks of her buttocks. And there was the older man, now fucking brutally into her roundly stretched mouth, arching up his hips to sink all he could of himself all the way into her throat when the young wife was thrown forward by a ram from behind.
Leslie's eyes were still closed and she was numb to everything around her except the lust-hardened cocks skewering her at both ends. She did not notice the sudden brightness in the room or hear the snap of the switch that caused it. Cranking their heads around towards the door, Mike and Ethel were simultaneously startled at the sight of Judith standing naked and tousled just inside the entrance, her eyes fixed in disbelief on the three crazed, interlocked bodies of George, Leslie and Mark himself...The dumbfounded brunette stared at the orgy as if she were seeing a mirage, just as Mike had at first, and then turned slightly to toss a questioning, puzzled glance at him and the fidgeting woman sitting beside him.
"Well, what have we here?" Judith asked in a low, conspiratorial tone. She was visibly flustered but there was also a hint of gloating glee in her walk as she crossed over to take a seat beside Mike and Ethel to watch them wildly buffeting young Leslie Stewart between them.
"Seems you're surprised too, seeing Leslie like that," Mike whispered to Judith. But his big-breasted neighbor merely snorted and slowly shook her head back and forth to show that the lovely blonde's behavior was not the basic reason at all for Judith's obvious surprise.
"That's Mark, my husband, the guy who's screwing your virtuous little bride in her mouth...just in case you didn't know," Judith said. "I could kick myself for stewing so much about whether he'd find out that I've been playing around when he's gone...God, look at him go!"
"Hey, you mean you really didn't know who he is?" Ethel asked the astonished Mike, elbowing him as she giggled over what seemed to be a hilarious joke to her.
"I...I've never met him and . . " His speech was cut short by loud thrashing and a long groan of agony-like passion from the far side of the bedroom. They all turned to watch intently as the two men suddenly sped up the pace of their double fucking into Leslie's voluptuous young body. From where he was sitting, Mike could plainly hear the rasping sound of heavy, coarse male breathing quickening and becoming more and more excited by the second...God, he wanted to fuck her now too. He wanted to make her respond just as she was now to show her that he could do just as well. The thought alone of kissing and touching her silky white flesh made his loins ache with renewed desire.
"Aaaaaaaah," George moaned as Leslie felt her thighs and buttocks swept wide apart by one last ass-crushing lunge, the huge, abnormal cock sliding as far as it could go in her belly. It began to jerk and spew its hot sticky liquid deep up inside her and she felt his lewd cum filling her asshole with a great rush as it flooded hotly into her, drowning her bowels. Then there were several convulsive jerks of his pelvis against the soft moons of her buttocks. With that, something strange began to take place in her own loins, a beautiful, electric, thrilling sensation that gathered in her nerves and threatened to burst them, building, building, closer and closer, faster...sharper.
She mumbled around the prick in her mouth and grunted in desperation as she fucked wildly against the one still oozing sperm in her rectum.
Then it happened.
She felt the glorious tremor of her own orgasm sweep through her body and her pussy flowered with warm flowing gushes of fluid from her own cumming...the first one she had had with a man actually inside her. Suddenly she felt the scrawny man behind her collapse backwards on the bed, his deflating penis popping out of her forever stretched rectum with a lewd wet popping sound. But she still had the stranger's hard cock in her mouth and wanted it to erupt in her throat and fill her stomach. She continued to manipulate the thrusting shaft and licked the spongy crown with her tongue on the out-stroke. Any second now he would cum, she could sense it, and the mere thought brought on fresh waves of lust inside her.
She sucked faster to keep pace with his ever-increasing tempo of thrusts. Mark looked down at the lust-wild young housewife's face and plunged his cock harder, deep, deep between her O-shaped lips and down into her velvet throat. Leslie pounded her head frantically until the long prick began a sudden spasmodic motion and she felt his hands shoot forward to hold both sides of her rosy-hued cheeks.
"Oooh, sheeeeeeeitt," he swore as his cock squirted hot jets of sperm deep in her throat. Leslie still sucked, swallowing the gushing cum, her neck constricting with the effort. But she continued on, swirling her bruised tongue around the cock-head to wipe him completely dry. His groans of pleasure slowly simmered to less noisy moans of contentment, his hands no longer pressing against her cheeks. Then she felt the big penis give one final spurt of the last remaining seminal liquid...the last of the precious load...and pull free from her lips like a cream coated banana. She had taken on two men together but her body still wanted more, more cocks to fuck her, more cocks to suck, for her newly-awakened senses were wonderfully sharp and anxious to enjoy all the sexual pleasure she could get.
She continued to kneel there on the bed, supported by her elbows and knees as her entire body quivered as though with fever, thin trails of cooling sperm still running lewdly out of her wide stretched anus and down the trembling insides of her rounded thighs. Several droplets of Mark Harrington's cum drained slowly down to her chin and hung in thin white strings until they finally dropped off on the bed. She kept her eyes tightly closed in order to cling to the little eddies of erotic joy that still ran through her from head to foot, but she could hear the heavy, labored breathing of the two men who had used her to vent their own pent-up sexual desires. A wanton shudder coursed through her limbs as she found herself wondering if they could do it again to her in a few minutes.
"Marvelous, marvelous!" Judith cheered as she clapped her hands together in applause. Leslie felt instant pulverizing shock and froze, not daring to breathe or open her eyes. Good Lord, she had forgotten about Mike! He must have seen everything that had happened towards the last, for surely he had cum long ago from Ethel's sucking of him. The blonde had wanted revenge but not to half kill her own husband with the sight of her rutting between two men like a wild animal.
"Huh?" Mark mumbled as he lifted his head and batted his eyes open and shut against the sudden bright light. He had been lying there panting, catching his breath with his eyes closed as well, when the familiar sound of his wife's voice reached his ears and it immediately occurred to him that she might be angry. Hell, she had not even known he was home-and it must have surprised her, to say the least, to walk in and find him naked and exhausted on the bed next to their beautiful young neighbor.
"I said that was marvelous, darling, a great show," Judith repeated. "You're all to be congratulated."
"Jeez, thanks, Mrs. Harrington," George wheezed, grinning from ear to ear. "That's a helluva compliment coming from you...Some of the guys told me you're really great in the sack." The skinny man looked from face to face, nodding and smiling at everyone as though he alone were the hero of the evening and had somehow miraculously designed and engineered the very basis of the human sex drive and all of its variations.
At last Leslie dared to open her eyes and was further shocked to discover that the bedroom lights were on. Oh no, she groaned inwardly, Mike must have seen every vile, shameless detail of the three-way coupling...must have seen her writhing and sucking like the whore he had called her. Now he would never believe that she had not really been a member of the swap group since his departure for Vietnam. She could not think of any way to prove to him that she had been loyal and faithful to him until tonight, and he had actually witnessed her first and only infidelity.
Her rectum still throbbing from the cruel fucking she had received from George, Leslie eased her legs over the edge of the bed and lifted herself to a sitting position. At first she could not bring herself to face the others, but she knew she had to eventually and now was as good a time as any.
After composing her face as well as she could, Leslie looked across the room and saw Mike, Ethel and Judith sitting just as she was on the edge of the bed. Ethel was staring off at the wall with the usual blank expression on her face, occasionally rubbing the insides of her nicely-formed thighs with the palms of her hands in an absent-minded way. Judith was gazing at her, Leslie, and the two men beside her with a sly, pleased smile on her face, the kind of smile a woman often gives when she has been proven right or had the last word in a dispute...As for Mike, Leslie saw that he was looking at her, but not directly, for there was a strange glint in his eyes and he seemed to be thinking. Yet, he did not seem to be angry or hurt...just strangely obsessed. Although their eyes met, it was as though he was not conscious of her actual presence at that exact moment.
Leslie lowered her gaze and was amazed to see that her husband's penis was standing up in erection, jerking every so often from the excitement of whatever he was thinking.
* * *
Mike's thoughts were spinning in a whirl of memories and misplaced time. He could still see nothing but the tormenting picture of his young wife, Leslie, haunched on all fours with Mark Harrington's cock buried deep in her mouth as the dim-witted George sawed in and out of her little asshole with his immense prick. The redhead could still hear her mumbling, muffled mewls of pleasure and the sounds of wetness as they slipped and drove into her from both ends. Christ, he had hardly been able to stand it. He wanted in...he wanted to be a participant in the lewd awful use of her body. The wet sucking noises Leslie was making with her ovaled lips and the beast-like grunts of pleasure coming from the two men were more than he could bear. He could not care about his service in Vietnam, nor about his new job as an executive with the promising trucking firm. He could not care about anything but Leslie, her exquisite young body, and how he wanted to run across the room and ram his aching tortured cock into her...anywhere he could. She was his wife, his own bride, and yet it was plain to see that she was completely berserk with the sheer carnal pleasure of the savage fucking she was getting from strangers, men he had never seen before this evening. But maybe she knew them well...God, yes, she must have been telling the truth about her membership in the club and now she was with old sex-buddies who had probably banged her before.
Mike gritted his teeth and felt tiny streams of sweat rolling down his forehead as he sat there. He wanted to cry, to scream out and yank his wife's insatiable body from between them, but he could not move. His cock ached and throbbed to be inside her mouth or her warm, clasping pussy...or jammed up her tight, hot, rubbery rectal passage.
Unconsciously, he began to stroke his own bone-hard penis, sliding his closed fist up and down the length of it, following the rhythm of the merciless fucking George and the other man were giving Leslie. Faster and faster he pumped his thick cock, feeling the semen oozing from the tip run down to lubricate the mastur-batory action. He saw his wife lolling limply between them, allowing herself to be used as they wanted, then losing control of herself and rocking back and forth to receive the full benefit of the punishing rods. Her firm white breasts jiggled and shook below her heaving chest as though they were being tugged on by strings attached to the pink, stiff nipples.
Mike's orgasm thundered in his balls and began to spread out through his groin, ready to explode.
And then it arrived!
His hard cock pulsed and his legs stiffened out straight as the first charge of white thick sperm shot out of the end of the glans at least eight inches into the air. The first was followed by a series of faster, shorter spurts that landed on his muscular chest and ran down to his lower abdomen.
"Aaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhh," he groaned only half-humanly as his cumming seized his nerve-ends and reduced him to a twitching mass of sinew and muscle.
* * *
The others sat watching him, stupified, wondering what had come over the lithe, young veteran, until finally Ethel frowned and wagged her finger at him accusingly.
"Boy, you're sure a selfish bastard! Here you've got three women, all of 'em still hot to go, and you sit there jerking off in front of us," Ethel barked at the hypnotized redhead. Mike snapped up his head with a sudden start and looked over at her, his eyes filled with guilt and embarrassment as he suddenly realized that he had been phantasizing. He had been reliving in his mind what he had seen earlier, nothing more, and had lost touch with the reality of the present moment.
"I-I don't know what to say...I'm sorry," Mike stammered in an awkward attempt to apologize, apologize for something he did not even understand himself.
"Well, you should be! You're not much good as a member if you don't give us girls something back for what you get," Ethel went on, her needling anger rising the more she talked, convincing herself that she had been personally affronted.
"Oh, shut up, Ethel," Judith said with authority, faking a look of stern impatience on her face to lend weight to her statement. "You sound like an ass, and besides, you obviously don't understand the real reason why Mike just did what he did."
"Who cares why? I just want my...." Ethel began to explain in her own defense.
"Dammit, woman, you heard Judith-shut up!" George half-shouted over at his wife, scowling. "I don't want no woman of mine soundin' like an ass. I got me a position in this town to keep up, and I ain't gonna put up with my own old lady ruinin' business 'cause she don't understand some things. It's a matter of self-respect." When he finished the rebuke, Ethel hung her head penitently and he turned his gaze to Judith as if for approval, his scowl changing to an expression of self-satisfaction when the buxom brunette smiled and winked furtively at him to endorse his scolding of the horny woman sitting next to Mike.
Leslie had been just as astounded as Ethel when she saw Mike begin to manipulate his hard, towering cock right there in front of everyone as though they did not exist. To her, it had seemed like he had been in a trance and that she had been, somehow, an object in his mind rather than the real person she was, sitting there across the room from him...But Judith's remark about "the real reason" why Mike had masturbated so openly triggered Leslie's mind.
"Please, I don't want to cause any trouble," Mike said meekly, a sheepish look weakening the strong, clean lines of his handsome face. "I feel pretty awful and...and embarrassed...so damned embarrassed I could crawl into the woodwork. Believe me, I'm sorry. I guess I lost...track...I could see Leslie...still...still doing...what she did."
"And it got you so hot and bothered that you forgot yourself," Judith chimed in. "Listen, don't worry about it. Everybody joins the group for a different reason...Sometimes people come just for kicks, while others come to work out problems they're having at home in bed with husbands or wives. The people with problems usually wind up coming for kicks too, later. It all works out." Her voice was soft and reassuring, but even though Mike was obviously calmed a little by her logical explanation, he still wore the guilty look of a little boy who has just been caught with his hand deep in the cookie jar.
"But Ethel was right-I was selfish," Mike persisted. Then, glancing across the room at Leslie, he added, "Now that I think of it, I've been pretty damned selfish all along, haven't I?"
"Oh, darling," Leslie cried as she rose suddenly and hurried across the bedroom to where her distressed husband was seated with the look of dejection on his face that often follows a humiliating revelation about oneself. Judith moved instinctively to give the blonde room to sit down beside Mike and comfort him, smiling to herself as she watched Leslie smooth back his hair and lean against his shoulder like an innocent kitten.
"I really am sorry, honey" Mike continued to apologize. "I never stopped to think about how you felt...about sex and everything else in our marriage."
"Oh, Mike, I'm sorry...How can you ever forgive me for what I did tonight?" Leslie sobbed, overcome with shame as well as genuine sympathy for the hurt he must have felt while watching her with George and the other man. She nuzzled closer and kissed his neck between choking sobs of pity and shame.
"Come on, kids, pull yourselves together," Judith interrupted after a moment. "People in love tend to get upset at their first swap session, that's all. Mark and I will come over tomorrow and have a long talk with you, won't we, love?"
"Of course, but I think we ought to have a little chat ourselves in the meantime," Mark grinned coyly at his naked wife. "It seems that we've been sneaking around needlessly, while we could've been having fun and games out in the open."
"Maybe we've been silly too, then," Judith beamed.
"Hey, what's going on in here, a funeral?" a naked man asked as he entered the room. He was about Mike's age, husky but not as solidly and symmetrically built as the redhead, and his facial features were rather bland by comparison. "Judy over there," he pointed, "wore me out for a while but I'm rested up and ready for seconds...if anyone's interested."
"I am," Ethel announced.
"Hold your horses, you'll get your share," Judith broke in. "Everyone, this is Bill. He's an architect and, even though Ethel already knows it, he's quite an active member in the group." Bill looked around the room, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the introduction but showing by the way he ogled the women's naked bodies that he was more interested in getting down to business again than in social formalities.
Mike was silent as he puzzled over what Judith had said about couples sometimes being upset at their "first" swap session. Had she meant to include Leslie too in that remark, or what? He had to know as soon as possible, for it might make all the difference in the world as far as his peace of mind was concerned. Knowing would make all the problems he and his wife had faced a lot easier to put into a meaningful perspective.
The lately-arrived architect rolled his eyes from Ethel to Leslie, drinking in their smooth white curves, trying to make up his mind which woman to enjoy first. Judith had been fantastic, true, but one of the reasons he had joined the group was to have the opportunity to pick and choose any female member who was willing to go along with him. And at the moment, the young blonde sitting there with her head on the tall, well-built guy's shoulder looked like the best bet.
Mike saw Bill staring rapaciously at Leslie and noticed that the architect's penis was jerking to semi-erection from just seeing her rounded hips and high young breasts.
"Honey, let's go out in the hall for a few minutes-I want to talk in private," Mike whispered softly in her ear, anxious to learn the truth before things got out of hand again.
"All right...Anything you want, darling," she agreed softly, drying her eyes with the back of her hand as she allowed Mike to help her up to a standing position.
"Where are you going?" Bill asked with disappointment evident in his tone.
"Not that it's any of your business, buddy, but we're leaving to have a private talk," Mike said without bothering to look back as he and Leslie made their exit and turned into the corridor. Mike gripped her arm about a dozen feet further on and they stopped to face each other a few seconds, their eyes only inches apart and filled with questions.
"Leslie, tell me the truth, did you go to bed with other men while I was away?"
"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head from side to side as tears filled her eyes to brimming, "I was lying...I tried to tell you...I wanted to hurt you back after I saw you with Judith in her kitchen...I-I wanted to hurt you, just to hurt you, and I lied about the group. Please, it's the truth!"
"And this was your first time at a meeting?" Mike demanded to know.
"Yes, of course, and I've never, never been with another man," she cried, "not until...tonight." Leslie felt the hopelessness of trying to convince him and wept freely now, her limbs shaking violently with the force of her utter despair. She found it hard to believe that Mike reached out his arms to enfold her in them, drawing her close to him so that their naked flesh molded warmly together like one body.
"It's okay, everything's okay now," he sighed with relief as the truth flooded his brain and he fully understood why she had led him to believe that she had been playing around during his absence, a lie that had attacked his own self-esteem as a man in the worst way, a man who was incapable of matching the sexual prowess of random strangers who could satisfy his wife more than he could. Yes, everything was okay now and the future seemed brighter.
"Mike, I want to go home," she said, still sniffling as she gazed up at him.
"Sure, honey, but where are your clothes?"
"In the closet there," she said with a tip of her head towards the end of the hall. "I'll get them and dress while you get yours, if it's all right with you."
"Yeah, it's all right with me," he smiled broadly, kissing her on the forehead before he turned back towards the bedroom where he had tossed them off in a frenzy earlier...his trousers on a chair...his shirt on top of them...and God only knows where he had pitched the rest of his clothing. The sole reason he remembered his trousers was that he had heard loose change spill out of his pockets and onto the floor under the bed, a sound that had ironically disturbed him even in his eagerness to get to Ethel's body. Now, he smiled sardonically as he recalled how he had thought of postponing his own lust long enough to get down and retrieve the quarters and dimes at least because he and Leslie needed every cent he earned to scrape through until his next promotion came along.
Back in the bedroom, he saw that the remaining pair of women were not being bashful about preparing the three willing males for another heated round of orgiastic pleasure. Mike gathered up his strewn clothes as quietly as he could and was just on the verge of leaving them to their vices when Judith raised her head from George's spindly flanks and said:
"So you're leaving us...Well, if things go the way I think they will, we'll have other chances to get together-soon, I hope-and don't forget our talk tomorrow."
"I won't," Mike promised. "Have fun...." But she never heard his last remark as George Mastin had reached forward and pulled her back down by the hair to his groin.
Leslie was still smoothing her hair and dressed only in her bra and panties when Mike returned with his clothes draped over his forearm. He pulled on his trousers and slipped into his shirt while she prettied herself and then finally put on the rest of her garments. It seemed as though she wanted to erase her defilement by being neat and sweet again, fully clothed.
"Come on, I thought you wanted to go home," Mike urged.
"I'm ready, darling," she replied as she patted her hair once more and reached out for his arm. "Are you sure you believe me and you're not mad anymore?"
"Yes, yes, you little idiot, I'm sure, but I may beat you if you keep me waiting any longer...It's been a strenuous evening and I think we need a little sleep...at home in our own bed," he smirked as he gave her another peck.
As they passed the open entrance to the bedroom, they both paused automatically to look in. Things were in full swing again with all five of the sex-starved club members on the same bed, entangled in each other's passion-crazed bodies in wild, crazy positions. It was an unidentifiable mass of breasts, thighs, cunts and cocks, so that it was impossible to tell which genitals were attached to which bodies. They were accepting and feasting on whatever flesh was closest and Mike admitted to himself that he felt a pang of regret that he and Leslie were not going to stay and join in on what looked as exciting, if not more so, than what had happened while they were still in there, undressed, playing too.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," Leslie cooed as though she had read his thoughts. Mike tightened his arm around her waist as they made their way down the dimly-lighted corridor.
CHAPTER 7
The house was freezing cold and even under the covers Leslie was shivering, her teeth chattering like castanets as she reached out for the warmth of Mike's body. When she failed to make the expected contact, she popped open her eyes and felt a flash of panic when she saw that his side of the bed was vacant. She could feel the heat where he had been and yet, in her sleep-drugged mind, the only important thing was that he was not there beside her. At first she was not even certain why she should be so alarmed but then, as her mind cleared its way to consciousness, the events of the previous night bombarded her with remembered clarity.
She suddenly sat upright and cast her eyes about the room for some sign of him, some evidence that he was still there, but there was nothing.
It was then that she heard him whistling merrily in the kitchen, running water and cursing good-naturedly at something, something that seemed to amuse him. Leslie glimpsed quickly at the clock on the nightstand and fell back with a sigh of relief when she saw that it was twenty minutes yet before the alarm-bell was set to go off. It was like him, she thought happily, to jump out of bed early on a bitter cold morning such as this. Physically, he was a dynamo and nothing seemed to faze his fit, tireless body. Now that she was secure in the knowledge that he was there, bustling cheerily about in the kitchen, she could relax and just lie there in bed without bothering to think.
Not that she could anyway. It was exceptionally cold in the room and her breath rose in a vaporous mist as she lay there shaking, wishing that Mike had listened to her when she had suggested that they buy electric biankets on sale at the only discount store in the area. The windows were not even steamed up as they usually were on cold mornings; she could see a light glaze of frost coating the inside panes. And the heater was not clicking and cracking as it normally did when the temperature was so low that it had to wage a valiant battle simply to keep the climate of the bedroom tolerable. She began to wonder if the whole heating system had been finally defeated by the bitter winter.
"Hey, so you're finally awake," Mike greeted her jubilantly as he suddenly appeared in the doorway, precariously balancing two full cups of coffee in his hands. His white dress shirt was open at the throat and he was in his stocking-feet, his cheeks rosy and eyes bright with the elation he obviously felt. "Aren't you going to get up and fix my breakfast? It's getting late, you know."
"Oh? Look at the clock and you'll see that it's early," she fired back, the beginnings of a long-suffering but loving smile on her face. "And what about the heat, you silly frump, did you even notice that it's not working?"
"Damn!" he exclaimed, throwing back his head with his mouth agape, "I forgot to turn it up. I meant to, honey, but I'm just too happy this morning to think of everything. I'm only human, you know, and sometimes I make mistakes."
"Well, I'm human too...and I'm freeeezing to death," Leslie shivered, snuggling deeper under the blankets. Despite her discomfort, she was happy to see him so full of life and cheerful after what had happened last night at the Mas-tins'...After they had crawled into bed, she had lain awake for awhile and dreaded the morning, when they would both be cold sober and fully aware of what had actually taken place in what George had said was Ethel's favorite bedroom. But Mike's bright, gay mood seemed to lift up the burden of worry and she was truly grateful.
"Here, drink this while I go turn the furnace on full blast," he said as he handed her a steaming hot cup of coffee and then turned to leave.
"Mike...." Leslie said sweetly.
"Yeah, what?" he frowned, halting dead in his tracks. "Wait a second while I turn up the thermostat...Be right back and I'll listen all day if you want me to."
"I just wanted to say i love you," she shouted out after him as he tromped down the hall towards the control panel on the wall just outside the kitchen. She heard his footsteps stop for a second and then hurry on faster than before.
* * *
It was ten minutes later and the kichen was cozy and warm as they sat across from each other at the breakfast table, sipping on their third cup of coffee. After apologizing profusely over and over for neglecting to turn up the heat for her, Mike had just sat there gazing at Leslie with an intense, mysteriously rekindled devotion burning in his hazelish eyes. Then, hesitantly at first, he had broached the subject of the night before and, to her relief, seemed to be anything but angered by the memory. On the contrary, his concern for how she had felt during the whole episode seemed to be his major interest.
"Be honest now, you were half driven out of your mind with two guys fucking you at the same time, weren't you, honey?" he asked again as he leaned forward in undisguised anticipation of her answer.
"Golly, Mike, you're putting me in a heck of a tough spot," she replied softly as she dropped her eyes to avoid his own. "You saw what happened...how I acted."
"Man, did I ever! I thought you were going to go through the roof any minute," he enthused, "and I've got to admit I damned near did too from just watching. By God, honey, I always knew, I just knew you had it in you...My only regret is that I was so self-centered and demanding that I stifled your natural talents to the point where we were both screwed up."
"It was both our faults, really, but now I'm not worried at all," she said tenderly. "Last night was just a beginning for us, now that we understand each other's needs. This morning, I'm willing to stake my life on a bet that we'll be...still be...the happiest married couple on earth a hundred years from now!"
"Only a damned fool would take that bet, baby, especially if he knew what a little tigress you are under the right circumstances," Mike howled gleefully as he slammed his hand down on the table to punctuate the strength of his certainty. Although he had not wholly understood her meaning, she threw back her head and laughed with him, just because she was so elated to see him coming out of himself at last. For a while, it had seemed that his homecoming was more of a detriment to their marriage than his absence had been, but now that they were able to talk honestly with each other, the future seemed wonderfully bright and not the ominous blank that had loomed before them only yesterday.
"Yep, I guess you're right again-just as always," Leslie agreed, giggling gayly as her golden hair shimmered in the morning sunlight and she threw up her arms in a gesture of defeat. "Even I wouldn't take such a dumb bet."
Mike's pulse leaped erratically in his temple as he leered hungrily at the soft deep valley between her lush young breasts. Her robe had come open at the neck when she had thrown up her arms and he could imagine how pert and pink her nipples were under the fuzzy fabric of the garment. An odd floating feeling seized him as he remembered how they had quivered and danced at the tips of her fleshy white globes when two men had fucked into her from both ends at the same time on the opposite bed...just last night. God, he must be some kind of pervert, he thought, for the mental image itself was enough to make his prick harden in his trousers. Still smiling at her, he slowly eased his right hand off the table and reached down to touch his thick, rising length. It was as hard as a rock and he thought fleetingly of calling the office to say he would be late that morning, that his car would not start...or something. Hell, anything that would give him an excuse to stay home long enough for a quick piece of Leslie's luscious ass.
"Mike, I know I shouldn't be, but I'm glad that things turned out as they did at the Mastins' last night," she said buoyantly, interrupting his stimulating memory of her naked body being skewered by rampant cocks and the sticky cum that had flowed so obscenely from her mouth and her widely stretched rectum.
"Me too," he said suddenly, forcing out the words, his bulging penis throbbing with the desire to rip up into her soft belly. He had to have her, to make her scream out with joy and abandon as she had probably yearned to do last night. But there was no time now; his new job had to come first or they might not even have a bed to make love on. Tonight, though, as soon as he got home, he would give her a fucking that would make last evening's orgy look puny by comparison. He would show his sexy little nymph of a wife what a grand thrill a woman could feel with just one cock in her, one big cock with the right man behind it!
"Darling, don't you think you'd better get going? You've only got fifteen minutes to get to the office and who knows how the car will act on an icy morning like this?"
"Wow, you're right!" Mike said as he looked at his watch and darted up from the table. Leslie saw the massive bulge in his trousers and bit her tongue to suppress the girlish giggle that suddenly rose to her throat...Heavens, it was not quite eight-thirty in the morning and he was already hard, she chuckled to herself, and then she began to understand a little more why he had been so cheerful and happy all morning. Yes, he was happy because they were closer, just as she was, but she felt a tickling amusement in her mind as she realized the greatest cause of his chipper attitude. Their session with the swap group had aroused him more than she had thought. But then, despite everything, she could not honestly blame him, for she was still feeling the effects herself...now that she thought of it.
"Listen, when Judith and her husband come over for that talk, don't forget to ask them when and where the next meeting's going to be," Mike reminded as he adjusted his tie and slipped on his coat. "We can't afford to miss it."
"But, darling, are you sure we should?" she asked in a serious tone as she helped him into his overcoat.
"Are you kidding? Of course we should! It worked, didn't it? But let's discuss it later. I've got to run or they might dock my pay for being a few minutes late...You know, new employee and all," he joshed back at her as he descended the stairs three at a time. The front door slammed shut and he was gone, the house silent again, as though his departure had stolen the life and personality out of the chill rooms.
She heard the car engine sputter, catch, then roar like a beast from sleep. She walked back to the bedroom to watch out the steamy window as he backed out of the driveway into the glaring, icy street. Then she heard the cold gears crunch into place and saw the car lurch forward, its rear tires spinning wildly and fishtailing as it sped out of sight.
* * *
The Harringtons arrived shortly after lunch-time. On just the short distance between the houses, the raw wind and sub-zero temperature had chaffed their faces to scarlet red. After taking oft their coats and warming themselves a bit in front of the modest blaze in the fireplace, Judith formally introduced Leslie and Mark, the man whom the blonde now knew was Judith's husband.
"One thing's for certain, we really love you," Judith said, her teeth still chattering slightly, "or we wouldn't have come out of the house on a day like this for anything."
"I'll second that," the distinguished-looking older man said. "As lovely and passionate as you are, I still thought twice about braving the weather for the minute or two it took to come over to see you. Even Maine was warmer than this."
"Have a seat and I'll get you both some of Mike's brandy to take the chill off," Leslie said graciously as she headed towards the kitchen for three glasses. A few minutes later, she and the Harringtons were settled in front of the fire, sipping the fiery, blood-warming brandy, chatting amiably about the fierce weather and other incidentals. Finally Mark set his glass down on the table next to his chair and changed his expression to one of seriousness.
"Well, let's get down to business. Let's get on with what we came over to talk about," he said with a straight face.
Leslie listened with every last iota of concentration she had as he expressed what he and Judith agreed were the differences between plain old everyday humdrum sex and the kind of sex that one could enjoy as the result of an enlightened attitude. He explained in intelligent terms that a great majority of modern-day people were being cheated out of natural pleasure because of fear and certain crippling Victorian morals that they clung to, even though those morals were no longer applicable to the pace and mood of contemporary living. Continuing, he remarked on the criminal shame it was that certain people with nonconformist sexual tastes-people whom the cripples themselves called "sick" and "perverted"-were driven underground and forced to live as fugitives from the irrational wrath of the public. When he paused for a moment, his brunette wife broke in and filled the silence with a statement that staggered Leslie for a moment, until Judith noticed and repeated it to drive in her point.
"Yes, it's true," Judith said in earnest, "all three of us, and even your own husband, are almost as maimed as the average upright citizen by these stupid out-dated morals we cling to. Take yourself, Leslie, weren't you scared to death of a man's penis until last night? Until you found out what they're really for?"
"Yes, I...guess so," Leslie admitted uncertainly.
"Yeah, and you found out how to use certain other places you have, didn't you?" Mark joked crudely. Then, his face turning back to seriousness again, he spoke in support of what his voluptuous wife had said a moment before.
"As a prime example, look at Judith and me, how we've been sneaking around behind each other's backs to jump into bed with other sex-partners. And we're older than you, a lot older, and married so much longer that it's hard sometimes to tell each other's thoughts and feelings apart. We've been around the world together twice, been broke and rich together too many times to remember...And yet we were still limping along like fools, as far as sex is concerned, until last night when we saw each other in action and sat down later, at home, to have the talk we should've had years ago...We found out that we didn't have to sneak and lie about sleeping with other people, that all along our one big problem was that we hadn't had the courage to be honest with each other...Now we can have our fun together and feel free."
Leslie smiled warmly at Mark, hoping that he would truly understand how grateful she was for the things he had said. God knows, they must be true, she thought, for just last night's session at the Mastins' had improved her relationship with Mike so much that they seemed to be happier and more secure in each other than ever before. If just one night had accomplished that much, she wondered with awe what heights of bliss they might reach if they attended regularly. It seemed silly, somehow illogical, but facts were facts...They were already on the verge of being closer and more in love than ever before...and sex had been both the problem and the means to what seemed to be a signpost leading toward an ultimate, hopefully lasting solution.
"Oh, in case you're interested, we'd both consider ourselves lucky if you and Mike decide to stay on as regular members in the group," Mark said convincingly. "And I'd be especially fortunate," he added, "if your performance last night was any indication of the innate talents you have."
"Feel as grateful as you like, but remember the rules, buster," Judith smirked. "You can't become a member until you dig up some willing chick to join with you...I don't have anything to worry about on that score, if you recall last night's talk, because I've already qualified. I'm in like flint." Leslie detected a tone of sarcasm in her neighbor's voice, almost a shrewish rasping quality, one that she had never heard before and sounded like jealousy...the last thing she would expect of Judith.
"I'm not worried," Mark said as he hunched forward to within a mere foot of his wife's face, glowering. "You know damned well that all I have to do is pick up the telephone and give the time and the night...They'll come running. But frankly, I'd much rather have been around to introduce Leslie to the club...as my partner, of course, now that I know what she's capable of."
Judith gave no reply and sat as though petrified by frustrating resentment. As for Leslie, her mind boggled in embarrassment and her cheeks flushed a carmine color as she allowed her mind to picture again the events of the previous night. This very man, a man who was at least twenty-five years her senior, had rammed his pulsing cock in her mouth and she had willingly sucked it, had swallowed his sperm, all of it, and then wanted more!
Leslie picked up her glass and drained off the last of the brandy in it in an attempt to put off the rising flurries of sensation that were nagging deliriously at her groin. She could not drive the picture of his penis rammed into her mouth out of her mind and had to keep herself from staring down directly at Mark's trouser crotch where his cock must be, long and limp as it curled over his hairy testicle sacs and rested along the inside of his thigh. She quickly picked up her glass again to roll it in her fingers, hoping that the act would distract her from the thoughts she was having, but the very hardness and roundness of the crystal tumbler only made her think more intensely of Mark Harrington's penis. Against her will, she dropped her eyes to his groin finally and was both shocked and pleased when she saw that his trousers were standing up like a tent from his pubic region. She thought she would go crazy if she looked at the protuberance a second longer and lifted her gaze just high enough to discover that he was also leering down at her lap, his eyes roving back and forth along the expanse of bare thigh that was showing below her short skirt. Then their eyes met briefly and, as if by unspoken mutual consent, they both knew that they would make love together when the first chance came along.
Leslie licked her tongue across her upper lip, sliding it over her white teeth and then pulling it in to explore the smooth wetness of her inner cheek. It was an unconscious act on her part but one that he caught and interpreted to suit himself.
"Mike asked me to be sure to find out when and where the next meeting...you know, the next 'swap' session...is going to be," the lovely young housewife managed to say at last, her face still flushed with excitement and natural embarrassment. "He definitely wants us to attend."
"Great!" Mark grinned, "because last night Judith and I were talking about having it at our house...just in case I can't get a female in time. That way, I can be certain to get in on all the partying, since you bona fide members would have one hell of a time booting me out of my own house!"
"Don't count on it, sweetheart, because probably even that could be arranged if necessary," Judith said with heavy sarcasm, straightening up in her chair as she spoke. She had not missed the little exchange between them or the big lump in the crotch of his trousers, and while she was in no position to be jealous, the sexual current running between her husband and Leslie did irritate her. After all, this was something new to her...watching her own husband openly display his lust for another woman...and her blood was up despite all that she and Mark had said to Leslie about liberal attitudes and whatnot regarding sex.
"How sweet of you to say that, darling," Mark shot back at his flustered wife. The cold glare he gave her seemed to work, for she slumped her shoulders and sighed out a tiny smile to show that she realized her mistake. "Now, we were thinking about next Monday night, at say nine o'clock," he continued after a moment, "because I have to get back on my sales route by Wednesday morning...and if things go the way we hope, that will give me a day to recuperate from all the wild fun."
"It should be interesting too," Judith said in her normal voice, "because there's at least one new couple slated to attend. You and Mike will feel like old-timers."
"Well, I doubt that, but as far as I know, we'll be there," Leslie nodded. Actually, she was positive that they would be there, from the way she felt now and from how Mike had behaved that morning, and her big regret at the moment was that the session was not going to be that very evening!
* * *
Leslie stood at the huge living room window a few minutes later, waving goodbye to Judith and Mark as she watched them plod through the deep snow as they made their way slowly towards their own front door. When they were out of sight, she turned and searched around the room for something to do, but everything was neat and in its proper place.
"Well, even if I am a budding nymphomaniac, I'm still a pretty good housewife," she said aloud with a feminine chuckle. Then, as she walked towards the bedroom to find something sexy to wear for Mike that evening, she laughed aloud again at the thought that perhaps seemingly innocent housewives made the best nymphomaniacs anyway...Besides, young as they were, she knew that she and Mike were past the point of no return as far as sex was concerned. They had tasted sexual freedom and there was no denying that it seemed to agree with them.
"Let's see, what would drive him even wilder than he already is?" she asked herself as she opened the closet to search through her modest wardrobe. "Something to make him fuck me." A damp flush came to her face from just saying the word, and she could feel a spreading urgency in her loins as she pictured him using her body at will...Her fingers trembled as she pulled out an old dress with a low neckline, one that was his favorite during the beginning of their courtship at college. The hem was too low to meet current standards of women's fashions, but she could fix that in a jiffy. It would give her something to occupy her mind while she waited for the handsome bastard's arrival home from work, she thought, whistling for the first time in ages as she flung the dress over her shoulder and headed for the other bedroom to get her sewing gear.
"Yes, something to make him fuck me fast," she grinned as she closed the bedroom door behind her.
CHAPTER 8
"Jesus, no wonder I couldn't wait to get home," Mike flattered, sincerely meaning every word as he greedily ran his eyes over his young wife's beautiful curvaceous young figure. She had spent almost an hour applying just the right makeup and scenting herself with a musky perfume on all the right spots. The dress had been a cinch to fix and now the hem-line cut only inches below her panties, showing an enticing abundance of bare white thigh below.
"Hey, isn't that the same dress I liked so much in college?" Mike asked with hoarseness in his voice, unable to keep his eyes in one place as they scanned her legs and feasted on the daring amount of flesh swelling up naked at her neckline. It seemed to him that her breasts had grown larger during the last week, were somehow fuller and riper.
"Yes, honey, it's the same dress, but I fixed the hem today," she said, trying to sound casual. "I thought I might as well get some more use out of it."
"Damn, had I known you'd look this good when I got home, I'd have run home for a little fun during my lunch hour," he said, only half-kiddingly.
"By the way, what would you like for dinner? I'll give you anything you want," Leslie purred. "I want you."
Suddenly he reached out and grabbed her to him, his lips crushing tightly down against hers as he held her in his powerful arms. His tongue snaked its way between his teeth and slipped wetly into her mouth. Leslie was not quite prepared for anything so sudden and struggled a second until she remembered that she was no longer afraid. She began to suck on his thick probing tongue and a whirling sensation came over her as she thought of the pleasure in store for her. God, she wanted him, now!
Then, without a word, Mike almost dragged her off towards their bedroom. But she was not complaining-she actually felt thrilled by his urgent need, the same need she had had all day.
When they were in the bedroom with the door still standing open from their entry, Mike kissed her roughly again and then pushed her backwards towards the bed. The edge of the mattress caught her behind the knees and the force of their momentum sent her sprawling flat on her back, his heavier body pinning her across the swaying surface of the bed. She let her thighs relax at once, allowing his squirming body to lodge itself between them. His cock was trapped in his trousers but tried to force itself out. In desperation, he rolled off her and quickly struggled out of his trousers and shorts, pulling them over his shoes with a ripping sound. Then, in one continuous motion, he mounted his weight on top of her again. The whole undressing action had not taken more than fifteen seconds.
His penis insinuated itself up and down against the thin nylon strip of her panty crotch and she could feel the wetness of the hard thick rod sliding in its own lubricating fluid against the soft inner hollows of her thighs. His head pressed down forcefully against hers, suddenly dropped lower, and she felt the sharp pain of his teeth biting savagely into her earlobe. She jumped reflexively but relaxed again immediately with a passionate sigh when she felt the hungry cock-head throbbing down between the full rounded globes of her white buttocks.
Mike's pelvis began a slow grinding motion against her own pubic mound, rubbing the sheer nylon band of her panties into the thin red slit of her cunt. The huge rubbery head traced a sticky wet path up and down the length of the satiny material until he could feel the full outline of the soft fleece-lined lips impressed clearly through it. He moved slowly, slowly against the restraining band, watching with delight as the expression on her face changed from plain enjoyment to raving lust. He knew that pride no longer mattered to her, that she was all woman now and capable of being ignited by the lightest male touch.
As excited as she was, Leslie felt suffocated by his weight and wondered if his hard grinding motion might drive them through the mattress to the floor. But the pleasure she felt was worth anything, she thought, pushing up her loins to press more tightly against the hot rotating cock rubbing against the flat smooth plane between her legs. She ground up tightly on the huge stiffness, attempting to draw it through the flimsy material still covering the moist entrance of her pussy.
"Get undressed," Mike ordered abruptly, panting as he rose to strip off the rest of his own clothes. This time, Leslie did not hesitate and got to her feet immediately, reaching up behind her to unzip the dress down the back.
"Come on, baby, hurry," Mike hissed impatiently. But the blonde needed no prompting and in less than a minute she too was standing stark naked beside him, her firm delicious curves sloping in and out temptingly, her breasts flushed a pinkish color from the heat of her desire.
He reached out and ran his fingertips teasingly over the tingling tips of her nipples and she moaned softly.
"Now, get down on the bed on your hands and knees," he commanded, "just the way you were last night when George and Mark fucked you at both ends."
Leslie's sense of self was lost in the fire of the moment and she followed his lewd orders without a word. When she was kneeling before him with her buttocks obscenely thrust out over the edge of the bed, he leaned down to kiss the smooth oval globes and bite them with sharp little nips. She felt him draw them apart until the strain on her anus was almost unbearable and then winced a little as his finger probed the tiny puckered opening.
"Now, spread your legs out more," he snapped. When she had obeyed his gruff order, he pushed harder against her asshole, straining at it, and suddenly it entered her, eased a little by her own moisture. It did not hurt as much as she had anticipated, not as much as it had last night, and there was even a surprising sensation of pleasure from the penetration. He moved the finger around in the now expanding passage, pushing it back and forth, widening it more and more, until she could not help but lean back on it, engulfing it with the tight clinging walls of her tender flesh. Her mouth fell wide open and she began to groan excitedly as she wriggled back on the intruding instrument, a strong sense of strangely satisfying subjugation sweeping through her mind.
"How would you like my big cock in your ass, baby?" Mike asked with a growl.
"Yes, darling! Yes, fuck me! Fuck up my asshole like that other man did! Please!" she cried pleadingly back to him. She felt him insert a second finger, which sent exquisite waves of pain through her, and then sensed that he was exploring the mouth of her vagina with the fingers of his other hand. The hot, throbbing head of his big cock pushed hard against the soft blonde-fringed cuntal lips, threatening to push them inside her own pussy, but then his fingers spread them apart. He rammed forward with a great resounding sound of wetness that drove the full length of him deep into her cunt in one lunge.
"Oooooooooooh, aaaaaaaaahhh," she groaned as the thick bluntness banged to a halt against her sensitive cervix. He began to skewer in and out of her, setting a steady rhythm as she felt the monster growing even larger in her widespread cuntal channel. The giant head felt like an unrelenting fist pummeling into her mercilessly and her ecstasy climbed higher and higher.
Suddenly he pulled out with a wet hissing sound and used his free hand to guide the blood-engorged prick up to the tiny puckered entrance of her anal opening...where the two fingers of his other hand were still buried as far as they could go. He slipped them out slowly, causing her to gasp when they were finally free, but then he placed the wet, pulsing tip of his cock against the tight, hairless opening and pushed, gently at first, then harder. She gave out a cry as the elastic flesh popped open from the steady pressure and the tip of his penis slipped inside.
"Oooh, noooo, wait, waaaiit," she begged as her asshole experienced a burning torture and her dazed mind flashed back to the pain she had felt when George's tremendous girth had entered her back there. But Mike ignored her pleas and shoved without mercy until he was in her all the way up to his hairy male pelvis.
"Goddammit, hump back, fuck back the way you did last night," he rasped. She obeyed as well as she could at the moment and leaned back gingerly on the surging cock.
"Faster, faster!" he shouted down at her.
"Aaaaaagggghhh, oooooh, fuuuck, fuuuccckk me therrrrre," Leslie whined as the pain suddenly blended with pleasure and she began to wag her blonde hair from side to side with the exertion of her backward lunges. Excitement had mounted again, this time with even stronger force, and she chanted back to him, her words grunted out in time to the primitive thrusts of his hips against her upraised rounded whiteness.
"Fuck...me...fuck...me...."
Sweat poured down Mike's face as he watched the pink flesh of the round little hole draw back with his cock, voraciously sucking as if to prevent him from escaping. He felt a sadistic pleasure as his balls smacked below into the moistness of her wide-split vaginal crevice, his thick cock sunk all the way up her gyrating ass so that only the swollen cords at the base were still visible. God, he wanted to drive it right up to her throat!
Leslie moaned in confusion as she felt him draw out of her again, depriving her, then drive his cock deep into her cunt. After a few more thrilling strokes there, he drove it up her asshole again...deeper, deeper...He began to fuck into each passage three or four thrusts at a time, changing more and more rapidly, alternating at will, until finally he reached down and held the maddening prick and guided it into her cunt, then her asshole, one stroke at a time. It was pistoning into her stomach like two men at once, the pleasure of one hole still beating live as he shoved himself up the other hole. It was too much, too beautiful!
Mike's balls palpitated with erotic energy, almost painfully, and his cock felt as though it were charged with a million prickly volts of electricity each time he plunged into one of the naked entrances before him. And now she was moaning like a she-devil, her lovely sweet face flushed bright red, her eyes rolling, as she panted and fucked back against him even more wantonly than she had in that other bedroom, still less than twenty-four hours ago. By Christ, he had her now and she loved it! It was easy to see that he was satisfying her more than she had ever been satisfied before, that he was taking the place of two men!
"Oooooooohhh, daaarrrrrrrlliinngggg!" she groaned out into the room as he kept up his switch-fucking action, occasionally sending his cock up her with a cruel, unnecessarily vicious thrust that almost drove her flat on her stomach.
"Is it better than last night, you beautiful hot fucking little bitch!" he asked with a grunting voice.
"Yeeeeesssssss, ooooohh, yeeeeeeeessss," she squealed.
Mike knew that he could cum anytime he decided but continued to tease and change his pace until she begged him to end her agonizing ecstasy, begged him to fuck her to completion. But he was not quite ready, not yet, and drew his cock out of each wet cavern to the very tip, watching her tight elastic flesh cling to him and then...after what seemed an eternal instant...stroke back in all the way up to his testicles. But little by little, even he lost control of the situation and felt the boiling lava of his sperm churn to readiness in the swinging balls below his throbbing shaft. It would soon be over, at least for a while, and gasped in anticipation of the waves of orgasmic pleasure that would fill his loins and brain any moment now.
His groans approached the point of loud huffing shouts as he thrust his prick's full length into the depths of her expanded asshole, his body starting to jerk convulsively, his mouth now hanging open too, as he clawed at her waist with brutal, clutching fingers, pulling her cheeks wider apart so that his fleshy column could ram into her yet another fraction of an inch.
"Oh Christ, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," he roared. He felt a moment of bafflement as he tried to decide where to shoot off his backed-up load...in her asshole or up her wet, wanting pussy...Her pussy, her pussy! Yes, yes!
Leslie felt the brief pause and then the sudden withdrawal from her rectum, only to be replaced by another fresh slippery thrust into the ravaged wet canal of her eager, sucking cunt.
Then, beneath his battering attack, she felt the first hot torrents of the thick, white cream in his balls travel up the great length of his penis and splash into the depths of her steaming cunt. The sensation touched off the climax that she had been holding back to prolong the pleasure, and she screamed as the great gushes of blissful feeling rippled through her. She could feel his hot, thick sperm filling her stomach and seeping out around the pulsing shaft sunk deep up inside her.
Mike sensed her climax and drove his spurting cock deep inside her, forcing her legs to splay out wide, her heels waving on each side of his body. He rammed her one last time and made her gasp as the last ounce of cum in his balls emptied into her quivering young belly.
He pulled out of her, staggering, and fell beside her already collapsed body on the bed with his arm draped over her trembling shoulders. They lay there for several minutes, gasping, gradually regaining their senses.
"Mike, my darling, that was the most thrilling, beautiful experience in my whole life," Leslie said huskily. "And just in case you were worried, last night didn't even come close to matching the pure pleasure I felt just now with you."
"That makes two of us, then," he said in a still shaky voice, "because it was the best for me too...And to tell the truth, Ethel wasn't much better than my own hand when I was thinking of you and everybody was watching.
Good God, I was so embarrassed later that I felt like killing myself."
"Well, if you do, please die with a hard-on," she mocked, "because I want all the use I can possibly get out of you. Mike...I was only kidding...don't ever die. I love you too much," she mumbled between kisses she planted on his chest, "and I'll still take that bet that we'll be the happiest people alive a hundred years from now."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he grinned. "The odds are pretty much in our favor, aren't they? ...Hey, speaking of the future, what about the next session of the club?"
Leslie cuddled closer and teased him, saying that she had forgotten to ask Judith and Mark about it. She watched her redheaded husband sulk awhile and then confessed that she had fibbed to taunt him to the brink of anger. "Golly, hony, I want you to be the slave sometimes," she baited. He chuckled and then broke out into hearty laughter, and she joined him, throwing her cum-smeared thigh over his mid-section as she nipped like the vixen she now was at his hard nipples between giggles.
"By God, you'd better watch out or you'll get more of what you just got," he threatened with an imitation of menace darkening his strong masculine face.
"Promise?" she goaded.
"Sure," he parried, taking a different tack, "I promise if you tell me when the next session is."
"Boy, you really are a bastard," Leslie accused. "Now that I'm grown up, you want to take advantage of me, uh?"
"That's right, honey," he agreed with a smirk. "I want to take advantage of you...But I think that's because we're both finally growing up."
Leslie watched him push her playfully aside as he pulled back the covers and got nonchalantly into his favorite sleeping position, feigning a yawn and closing his eyes, his breath coming in long, drawn-out sighs as though he were deep asleep. She smiled and, whistling for the second time that day, got under the warm blankets with him, squirming up tight against his toasty back as she let her hand fall over his hip to cup his balls.
"Goodnight, baby," he crooned. "You can tell me about the session tomorrow at breakfast."
Within five minutes, they were both sound asleep, their bodies pressed securely together.
CHAPTER 9
"What on earth can be taking him so long?" Leslie questioned aloud as she paced nervously back and forth across the living room. It was already nearly eight-thirty and the party next door was definitely on at nine o'clock. Judith had telephoned that afternoon to confirm the time and to mention that, with the couple she and Mike were bringing, there would be four newcomers to the group that evening. They had chatted awhile about the pleasant new prospects in store for everyone.
In fact, Mike was out now leading their new friends back to Pettsville from where they lived in the suburbs of a larger city about twelve miles away. Their names were Ralph and Judy Hailey, a young couple about the same age as Mike and Leslie.
Mike had met Ralph in the shipping yard at work last Friday and the two men had hit it off immediately. Ralph was just a driver but he owned his own truck and was intelligent, "a guy who will go places if he's given the chance," Mike had said during the full report he had given her of the new friend. Evidently the two men had become even better friends late that afternoon over beers in a nearby tavern after the office had closed, as Ralph had confided in Mike enough to say that he and his wife of three years were not getting along very well sexually. The driver had shown his new redheaded young executive friend a photograph of Judy and Mike had been bowled over by her figure. Then, after downing a few more beers, Mike had casually made reference to a possible solution to the problems the couple was having in bed.
Mike had mentioned the swapping group and, when the driver had not balked but seemed interested instead, he had gone on to explain what he knew so far about the club and extend an invitation for the Haileys to attend the Monday night session. Ralph had leapt on the suggestion and he would do his level best to persuade his wife that it was an excellent opportunity for them...."I'll tell her it's a kind of therapy," he had joked to Mike.
Leslie heard a car door slam shut and ran down the stairs to look out the window beside the front door. It was Mike and the Haileys, all right, and she gave her long honey-gold hair a few last-minute strokes with the palm of her hand as she watched the trio come up the lighted driveway.
"Wow," Leslie exclaimed to herself, "he's really big and good looking!" And he was. He was tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered and had rugged masculine facial features. "It must be her fault if they can't make it in bed," she mused.
Then Leslie took a long look at Judy. Even in her bulky winter clothes, she seemed rather thin and fragile, but her face was stunningly beautiful, the nose finely shaped and elegant, her brow high, her lips shiny and soft-looking even in the vague light. Leslie had a moment of doubt, feeling her own face with her fingertips to compare her nose and mouth to Judy's. They seemed up to par with the other woman's...and then the blonde sighed with reassured relief as she swung open the door for them.
"Hi," Leslie greeted, "I was afraid that you'd all run off the road somewhere...it was getting so late."
"Nah, nothing that serious, Mrs. Stewart," Ralph beamed, "it was just heavy traffic." His voice was deep and sent shivers through Leslie's body.
"I'm sorry we're late, Mrs. Stewart," Judy said sweetly, her voice as fine and delicate as her face.
"Please, why don't you both just call me Leslie from now on," the blonde urged warmly. "After all, we're going to know each other pretty well, aren't we?" She saw Mike grimace behind their backs at her suggestive remark, but for once she stood her ground and made no effort to amend her words.
"Honey, why don't you get us something to drink, okay?" Mike suggested in a low voice.
Leslie returned to the living room almost immediately from the kitchen, carrying a tray with three tall glasses on it full of a pale, green liquid that looked suspiciously familiar to Mike.
"Hey, what's this?" he asked, holding up the glass she handed him, examining its contents with a puzzled look on his face.
"You know, Mike, it's the same thing we drank at George's and Ethel's last week...something French," Leslie said with studied nonchalance as she smiled at Ralph and Judy.
"That's what I thought," Mike said quickly, "but where did this come from?"
"Golly, I forgot! George dropped by for awhile this afternoon and gave us a whole bottle before he left. And there's something else I forgot to tell you," she said with a coy smile. "George promised to give the truckers...and us, of course...a big discount on whatever they need at his gas stations. I think he said something about unlimited credit, too, but I can't really remember everything. We can ask him again at the Harringtons' this evening."
Mike laughed and shook his finger at her, wondering to himself if it was possible to have too much of a good thing. After a minute, he shrugged and said, "Come on, drink up everyone. We might not even make it to the party if my little wife here is thinking what I think she's thinking."
"That wouldn't be a big tragedy," Ralph said as he drank the last of the greenish elixir-like liquid in his glass. "If worse came to worse, we could probably have our own party right here. What do you think, Judy?" The dark-haired man patted his wife's bare knee and squeezed it, even though his eyes were trained on Leslie's every sinuous movement.
The beautiful woman who had seemed so quiet and shy when she first entered the house set her own empty glass down on the coffee table. Apparently the exotic liquor had already taken effect on her gently-curved body, for she was staring at Mike as though he were an oasis in the middle of an endless desert.
Glancing slyly at her husband, she smiled happily and answered, "Sweetheart, I don't care where it happens, but in case you haven't noticed, the party's about to begin...."
"Wow, let's get our coats!" Leslie laughed indulgently at the excitement of the two "newcomers" to the group. "The others would never forgive us if we kept you to ourselves."
Less than a minute later, there were four new tracks of footsteps between the Stewart and the Harrington homes.
