Group Sex Practices should not be confused with wife swapping. The activities, and the manifestations, are completely different.
PUBLISHER'S FOREWORD
Group sex practices are increasing in the United States. We are not referring to wife swapping, that's quite a different thing, one which, we believe, has reached and passed its peak of popularity. But the group sex trend is mounting and may, one professional recently remarked privately, " ... soon include a huge slice of society."
The increasing interest in groupism is, we truly believe, part of the syptomatology of a people becoming free; free about answering and expressing their innermost sexual wishes. And what are these wishes? We can suggest a few by the words of groupists themselves, communicated to us as an aside from interviews that were conducted for earlier reports we have published.
And so, let us be attentive. The group sex people speak:
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"I like to watch people fuck while I'm doing the same thing with my old lady. It turns me on ... makes me better."
A 43 year old steel worker.
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"May be I'm a kook, or something, but I just love sucking a guy's thing. And I mean I love it! There's no turning back for me-I'm not one of those wishy-washy gals, I go all the way ... when he cums I lap it up."
Claudia, a 28-year-old waitress.
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"For a long time, anal intercourse intrigued me. I had heard a lot about it, mostly those nasty things, and every time it was mentioned I found myself thinking about it-not just at the time, but hours later. Well, one night my husband and I gave a party for twelve of our most intimate friends. Now when I say 'intimate,' I don't mean we ever practiced any sex around each other, or anything like that; they were just good friends. The party did get a little wild and pretty soon four of the people stripped and started making love. They weren't switching, just doing it with their own mates. But pretty soon one of the girls-she had been a classmate of mine in college, as a matter-of-fact-started saying things to her husband like, 'Give it to me in the ass ... not there, in the ass!' And her husband did exactly that. I was close by and saw the whole thing. I guess it encouraged me a little-maybe it was something like seeing the very thing I had thought about that made it all right-for pretty soon my husband and I ... rather as if we were being good sports about the whole thing, started making love, too, and I got in a position face down so he could make love to me. I didn't suggest the anal way, for we had done it just dog-fashion quite a bit and we both liked it that way; it seemed natural, but being very honest about the whole thing, I guess I can say I was wishing for him to take me the anal way. And he did and I didn't object. Instead, I found it extremely pleasurable."
A substitute teacher, wife of a factory foreman.
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The previous statements are only three examples of inner sex wishes being exposed, then expressed, however, there is abundant professional data to support the proposition that the sexuality of humans is emerging into a new land of freedom.
Group sex is one sign of this newly won sexual freedom.
It is reported in dramatic detail in this book.
The Publisher
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER I GROUPISM IN AN ANCIENT ERA
CHAPTER II GROUP SEX: AN HISTORICAL PRECEDENT
CHAPTER III AN ORGY, INCLUDING: FELLATIO MASTURBATION LESBIANISM SEXUAL INTERCOURSE
CHAPTER IV THE FREEDOM LOVING COUPLES
CHAPTER V GROUP SEX IN A COMMUNE
CHAPTER VI CASE HISTORIES CONCERNING A DIFFERENT KIND OF GROUPISM
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CHAPTER ONE
Man's progress through the centuries has often been marked by social rediscoveries. Upon examination, a new cultural or social movement proves to be only a reawakening and rediscovery of a pattern long ago established in mankind's life.
The social upheaval that hit its full pace in the early 1960's brought with it numerous changes in attitudes and personal outlooks. The social, economic, religious and psychological changes that have swept the country have often reflected similar behavior almost as old as mankind itself. How often have we heard it said that the more things change the more they stay the same?
It has been in the vital area of sexual behavior that the most dramatic changes have taken place. The taboos of only a few years ago have been rejected by much of the nation, and now the air is crisp with a feeling of change. Freedom to express one's inner desires has been a hallmark of the sexual revolution. Along with this new freedom has come the ability to explore sexual avenues long blocked by the narrow demands of entrenched thinking.
One of the most energetic avenues of sexual expression now being explored by today's men and women is the practice of group sex.
This new behavior is, once studied, nothing new. In fact, it is the way it all started. Primitive tribes, our ancestors, lived, worked, hunted and made love together. These sexual patterns were slowly changed over the centuries until, through the new freedom, this was rediscovered and made a part of the American ivay of life.
It is said that each man is born to relive the entirety of mankind's discoveries. Each of us must come of age, live out a full and happy life, and in so doing, learn for himself what others knew down through the centuries. It is, perhaps, because of this need for rediscovery that today's men and women have taken so wholeheartedly to group sex practices.
Group sex has many forms of expression. From formal gatherings where many people copulate openly with each other, to small, impromptu scenes where as few as three people suddenly find themselves exchanging favors.
The reasons for finding sexual expression in groups are many. We will explore some of them throughout this book. The case histories illuminate the reasons for group sex, as well as illustrate the ways men and women add to their pleasures by suddenly having new horizons of personal expression opened to them because of fresh alternatives.
Group sex is here and growing in popularity. We may find it the predominant form of sexual activity within the near future. Serious devotees of group sex laud its many advantages, and it seems that it rarely takes more than just a few exposures to the fun of group sex to make enthusiastic converts out of modern men and women.
Freedom seems to be the core of group sex activities. Freedom from the old morality. Freedom to do as you wish without shame. Freedom to look without embarrassment. Freedom to show your body without guilt. Freedom to reach out and touch without fear of rejection. Freedom to choose the partner most appealing to one's desires. Freedom to feel that sex is good clean fun. Freedom that comes from knowing that others feel as you do about the joys of sexual fulfillment.
The sudden freedom is very exciting because it is a release from the binding weight of the Judaeo-Christian morality that has hung like a millstone around the neck of Western civilization. With one bright experience in group sex, many men and women find themselves filled with an exhilarating sense of satisfaction. They have, with perhaps just a single experience, learned that sex is not dirty, but a happy, wholesome part of human existence. They learn that sex is not something done in the dark, a furtive meeting of two bodies under a, shadow of guilt, but something that can be experienced with others in the open and in a spirit of warmth and joy.
The practice of group sex in our country is just now gaining momentum. How it grows, and what happens to this newly rediscovered way of sexual expression will, in large part, depend on how far the sexual revolution goes. It is doubtful that there will be a sudden return to the old morality. We must wait and see if group sex will remain just one facet of our ways of sexual expression, or if it will, as some feel, become the primary form of erotic behavior.
Let us start our study of case histories of group sex behavior with a brief look at what historians call the last period of open group sex in Western civilization-the peak of the Roman Empire.
Since the collapse of the Roman Empire, and the subsequent rise of the Judaeo-Christian morality, there have been few examples of open group sex. Indeed, sex itself came to be looked upon as a primary source of evil, one which doomed each of us, in the eyes of the religious powers, to be born in original sin. The incredible toll taken on human happiness by this outlook must remain outside the scope of this book, but we can say that the unnecessary guilt caused by this dogma must have sent millions of people through lives of torturous anxiety.
The Roman Empire, as you know, ruled the European continent, much of Africa and on to the east to encompass the totality of the then-known world. At its peak, few dared oppose Rome. The Romans were a lusty lot, taking their pleasures as they wished. It is interesting to note that group sex seemed to be one of their primary forms of social activity.
Let us take a look at how group sex must have been during those days of free expression.
CASE HISTORY
Antonius slipped off his breastplate and let it fall to the floor.
Rome! How long had it been since he had been to Rome? He thought and the years rolled through his mind. When the sixth year slid by he shook his head in amazement. So long. So much fighting, so much war, and always for the glory of Rome. Ah, Rome! Its beauty always seemed fresh. Its temples the finest in the world. Its people the most civilized.
He undressed as he thought. Dust covered him everywhere. He had whipped his horses and roared with delight as he topped a hill and caught his first glimpse of Rome in six years.
Antonius left the small room and went to the baths. He entered the large room and looked around. There in front of him frolicked the pride of Rome. Fellow generals sported in the water, some splashing languidly, others standing chest-deep in the soothing, warm water and talking.
Antonius slipped into the water quietly, eager to cleanse himself. The warm water enveloped him and he was filled with a rich sense of well-being as the soothing bath eased his tired limbs and rejuvenated him.
He let the water work its wonders, then made his way slowly across the bath where the two men talked, one of them with great animation. The one doing the talking was telling of a military exploit. Antonius stood behind him as he talked.
"I split them open with an attack against their right flank. What a glorious attack it was! They were in the phalanx and their shields on their left arms. My legions were grinding them to pieces!"
Antonius heard this and said, "And you would have been cut to ribbons if I hadn't sent my men to your rescue."
The speaker whirled around saying, "Who is telling such lies?"
The man glowered at Antonius. Then a glimmer of recognition came to his eyes and he erupted in a roar that shook the room.
"Antonius! Antonius Plinus! By the gods it's you!"
The man leapt at Antonius and gave him a crushing bear-hug which Antonius returned with equal delight.
The speaker was Justinian. They had grown up together, both sons of Roman generals. They had trained together and fought together. It had been many years since the two had been to the baths together.
Each had gone on to bring glory and power to Rome. Each a brilliant general and shrewd tactician..
"Justinian! Will you ever stop telling of your attack on the enemy's phalanx?" Antonius asked.
"I will now that you are here to correct my tale!" he answered with another huge bear-hug.
"I would have thought that some enemy assassin would have long ago sunk his blade into you." Antonius said. "But you must be spending more of your time in the rear these days. I can't see a new scar on you!"
"In the rear! A general doesn't push, he pulls! I lead in battle, Antonius."
"And so you do."
"Tell me of your exploits. Not another moment without hearing of your deeds. What new battles? What new conquests?"
Antonius laughed at Justinian. He had not changed. Ever the romantic. Always thirsting for some new adventure.
"Will you give me time to wash the road from my body before you wring tales from me?"
"When did you arrive?"
"Not an hour ago."
"By the gods, forgive me." Justinian said. Then he reached out and poured Antonius a large goblet of wine from a pitcher standing at the bath's edge.
"Drink," Justinian said. "Drink and be welcomed to Rome."
Antonius accepted the goblet eagerly and swallowed half its contents before he lowered it from his lips.
"Where have you been?" Justinian asked.
"Gaul."
"The fighting has been fierce there."
"Fierce enough," Antonius said as he again raised the goblet to his lips.
Justinian poured him another full measure and waited in silence while Antonius wallowed in the warm water and sipped the strong wine.
"Tell me about Rome," Antonius said. "What is the new gossip? Who are the best gladiators? What is the senate intriguing these days?"
"The gossip is trivial, there are no good gladiators left, and the senate is filled with old fools who think that Rome can be sustained by high talk."
Antonius laughed with glee at Justinian's resentful summation.
"Rome, the flower of culture, and all you can say is that?"
"But it's true," Justinian protested.
"Well, then, tell about the women."
"Ah, now that is something that hasn't changed. The women of Rome are still the greatest beauties in the world. By the gods, Antonius, of course! You must be hungering for a woman!"
"I cannot say that the thought has not crossed my mind. The women of Gaul are a poor and uncivilized substitute for the wenches of Rome. They are good enough to use, but not so charming as the lilies of Rome."
"Not another instant, then!" Justinian said as he pulled himself from the bath. "Let us do some wenching and give you a proper welcome to Rome!"
Antonius threw the goblet aside and leapt from the pool.
"Now you are talking like the Justinian I knew as a youth!"
The two dried themselves and donned simple robes that were fastened by a small clasp at the shoulder.
This was the Rome Antonius had thought of while far away in primitive camps. This was what he was fighting for. As they walked along a marble corridor, Antonius could not help but feel that the grandeur was overwhelming.
Justinian led the way, walking briskly and chattering as they went.
"Antonius, how long has it been since we last lay together with some lusty women?"
"Six years, Justinian. Too long, it seems."
"Then we'll make up for it now," he said as he threw open the door to a large room.
The room was filled with thick cushions. Antonius saw several couples making love in one corner. His heart started to pound in his chest as anticipation grew.
"What would be your pleasure, Antonius?" Justinian asked. "A full-busted wench? Perhaps a fiery Nubian slave? What will you have? Ask and she is yours."
"First a little more wine," Antonius said as the two spread out on the cushions and took off their robes.
The two Roman generals lay like gods on the thick pillows.
"Wine!" Antonius called to a passing slave girl who carried a tray.
She knelt before him and poured. He studied her as she knelt. She was young, barely a woman. Fine, light hair and bright blue eyes.
"You leave me too quickly," he said as she rose.
The girl looked down at the naked Roman general who lay before her and she understood. She set down the tray and came to him. It was her duty to obey.
"Shall I take my robe off, sire?" she asked, her voice soft and somehow hesitant.
"Yes," Antonius said, "let me see what you look like."
"As you wish," she said as she unfastened her robe and let it fall from her. "Shall I stand for you?"
"Stand and turn around," Antonius said with a note of cool concentration in his voice.
The girl did as he instructed. She stood in front of him, arms at her sides and head held erect as she looked back down at him.
Antonius appraised her and liked what he saw. She was not yet full. It would be a few more years before she would become a fleshy woman. Her pubic hairs were fine and just covering her youthful crotch.
The rounded little breasts that hung in front of her were obviously the beginning of a fine pair of womanly charms. His eyes followed the curve at the small of her back down and around the firm cheeks of her bottom. Then his gaze raked over her thighs, milk-white and well-shaped. She had turned around completely now, and stood facing him.
"Do I please you?" she asked.
"You interest me. I will tell you later if you have pleased me."
"By the gods, Antonius!" Justinian bellowed. "This is a mere slave girl. A child with no idea of how to make a man feel good. Let me get a real woman for you. Leave this unimaginative child alone."
"What do you say to that?" Antonius asked the girl.
"I will do as I am told."
"I wanted to know if you think that you are an unimaginative child."
"I do not know how much I know. Yet I know that what I do pleases men."
"There, Justinian, you see? This girl is a natural talent."
"But the daughters of the finest noblemen of Rome would fight to be the one to spread her legs for you."
"There will be time enough for them to spread their legs for me. Now I want to see what this young girl can do to make me feel welcome in Rome."
Antonius patted the cushion next to him in invitation. The girl lowered herself onto the cushion and looked at him with her clear eyes. He saw that the nipples of her youthful breasts were already knotted up into tight little buds. She was growing eager to have him deep inside her.
"Shall we begin, sire?"
"You are as eager as you are beautiful," Antonius answered.
"Damn this nonsense," Justinian said. "I am going to fetch myself a real woman. Antonius, the battles must have rattled your brains. Taking a child when trained women are about!"
Justinian left for a few minutes. He returned with a sensuous-looking woman. She was fleshy and her body seemed to be one voluptuous curve after another.
"Antonius, you'd better show that girl where to start, or you'll be sitting on that cushion for the rest of the day!"
The girl looked at Antonius and said, "I know where to start. Lie down, sire, and let me take you into my mouth."
Antonius lay back and watched the young girl's eyes examine his muscular body. As she looked at him, Justinian and his woman locked in a struggling, kissing embrace.
With the noise of the couple next to him in his ears, Antonius watched as the young slave girl reached out and took his phallus into her hand. She started to stroke it gently. Her fingers were barely able to close around his thick shaft. With her other hand she held his testicles, rolling them softly and caressing them.
Then she slowly lowered herself, opening her mouth as she neared his erect manhood. Her eyes closed and suddenly Antonius felt the warmth of her sucking mouth grasp his penis and massage it.
He watched her mouth as it worked on him.
Her lips were puckered around him in a perfect circle and her cheeks were drawn in from the force of her suction.
Her head went up and down on him, leaving his rod wet from the juices of her young mouth. She attacked him eagerly, as though trying to prove herself worthy of a general's attention.
Antonius studied her soft, young form as she had at him. She was kneeling next to him as she sucked. Her firm young thighs were pressed against the calves of her legs, making them bulge out to the side.
"You suck me well," he said as he reached out and stroked her hair.
Her head went up and down on his phallus with dedication. Small sucking sounds snapped and popped as the suction of her lips broke and regained strength. Her tongue was darting around the head of his stiff rod as she sucked, tantalizing and teasing it. She worked hard, almost begging the thick penis in her mouth to give up a torrent of masculine juices.
Antonius ran his hand down her back and onto the firm, shiny cheeks of her young buttocks. His rough hands massaged her firmness, and he watched the succulent flesh yield and move to his pressure.
Then he went lower, running his fingers down the crack and onto the fine hairs of her crotch. The girl felt his hands approaching her warm vagina, and she moved slightly to let his hand have a better path to her.
Antonius massaged the lips of her plushness with his finger as the girl sucked on his penis.
He split the lips with a well-aimed stroke of his middle finger and started to work his way inside.
She was tight and wet. Her juices were flowing freely now, and the lips of her vagina were covered with a thick, creamy lubrication.
Antonius gave a gentle shove with his finger and it started to make its way past the gates of her vagina and deep into the dark, moist cavery inside her. The girl leaned forward a bit, leaving her buttocks poised in the air, an easy target for his exploring finger.
Antonius ran his finger in and out of her for a while, then started to massage the swollen little bud of her clitoris. She inhaled sharply through her nose as he started to roll his finger around the sensitive little knot.
Then he tugged her, an invitation to spread herself out and lie next to him with her tender young vagina by his face. She responded to the command quite readily, lying next to him with her leg up in the air, letting Antonius have a good view of her waiting goodness.
Antonius rolled onto his side as he buried his face into the wet pocket of her fragrant crotch.
His tongue flashed into her with zeal and she stopped sucking for just an instant as the shock of his arriving tongue paralyzed her.
She was so young, so soft, yet so willing to do her best to be a woman with him.
He lapped heavily at her, stroking her clitoris with great sweeping dips of his tongue. Little noises of delight erupted from her throat as he worked on her youthful flesh.
Next to him, Justinian and his woman were busily at work enjoying themselves. Justinian lay back on the cushions as the ample wench tongued him from head to foot. She started around his neck, mouthing and sucking her way down onto his chest, then onto his well-muscled stomach.
Lower and lower she went, working her mouth and tongue feverishly while Justinian lay back and enjoyed the feeling of being consumed by her hot, eager mouth.
Now she had tantalized him by licking his penis slightly, then passing it by to start tonguing her way along his thighs. She went back up for a moment, taking the testis-filled sac into her mouth before going back to mouth his thighs.
Justinian opened his eyes and looked over at Antonius and the girl. They were on the verge of coming as he looked. Their movements were sharp and fast, their breath hissing in ecstasy. Justinian watched the girl's head bobbing furtively on Antonius' stiff rod. The two of them writhed in passion as Justinian watched on.
Suddenly he felt something hot and warm close around his own penis. It was the woman's trained lips taking their first honest taste of his stiff phallus. She sucked him as he watched Antonius and the girl eating each other.
Antonius' mouth was now working at a feverish speed, tonguing and nibbling away at the girl's sweet young vagina. He was slapping her flesh with his tongue, sending her into fits of convulsive orgasm with each well-aimed flick of his tongue.
His own orgasm was at the brink, thundering inside him and pounding at the door. It released suddenly, a great spasm that sent his penis deep into the back of the girl's mouth. The first little jet of thick cream flipped out of the end of his shaft onto her gyrating tongue.
She felt his penis swell, telling her that she was about to get his masculine cream in her mouth. She accepted it willingly, sucking all the harder and making expert little movements with her tongue to tickle the head of his supersensitive meat.
Again and again he thrust his hips as stream after stream of his sperm splashed into her mouth. She felt the thick juice flowing into her mouth, and she swished it around, letting it become an added lubricant for the tender tonguing she was giving his thick penis.
Justinian watched as they came together, his own lance under assault by the woman who lay across him. She was working hard now, sweeping up and down on his penis with huge motions that sent all of him into her mouth, to the very back of her throat.
Over and over again she went down on him, coddling his rod in her mouth as he watched the orgasmic carnival going on next to him. He studied the movements of Antonius and the girl. They were rolling over and over on the cushions now as Antonius threw his cum into her mouth.
She was coming with him, helpless under the attack of his exciting tongue. She came as he shot his rich treasure into her young mouth.
Justinian's own orgasm was quickly coaxed from the shadows by the sight of the wild undulations of Antonius and the girl. Then he started to give up his cum, excited and stimulated by the sights and the expert mouth wrapped around his phallus.
The woman felt him coming in her mouth, and she went down on him all the way and kept his coming staff deep in the back of her throat. Instead of sucking up and down, she jammed his penis into her throat and kept it there, rolling her head from side to side to provide friction for the head of his spurting member.
The girl had taken Antonius' full flood, and she slowly let it ooze around her mouth. Then she swallowed gently, savoring his semen before letting it slide down her throat. She mouthed him tenderly, licking him off and sucking passionately on the head and sides of his penis.
Antonius returned the tenderness with a few last licks at her turgid clitoris. She shuddered a little each time his tongue ran across her vagina, a small aftermath of orgasmic delight.
When Antonius and the girl had finished their delightful prelude, she curled up in his arms and said, "You were kind to me."
"Why do you say that?"
"You did not have to excite me like that. It is a woman's duty to work for the man. You were kind to treat me so well."
"It gave me pleasure, too."
"That makes me happy," the child said as she snuggled even closer to Antonius.
Justinian was moaning and grinning as the warm flush of orgasm's aftermath bathed his body. The voluptuous woman now sat next to him and massaged his arms.
"Justinian, you look like a man who has started to enjoy himself!"
"And you, Antonius, a few moments ago looked like a man who was enjoying his return to Rome!"
"I enjoyed it, indeed!" he said as he embraced the tender young girl in his arms. "You must have been watching us."
"I watched. The woman took me into her mouth as I watched. You haven't forgotten much since you left."
"Wielding a tongue is like wielding a sword. Once a man learns how, he never forgets!"
The two laughed in lusty amusement at Antonius' analogy.
"Are you still satisfied with the girl?" Justinian asked.
"I am not satisfied yet, but I am happy with her. You frolic with your women for a while. I'll take my pleasures with the girl."
"Antonius, shall I call over at least one woman to help you?"
"The girl is enough for me now," Antonius said.
The tender young girl kissed his chest as he spoke in her defense. Her soft fingers ran up and down his legs, then teased their way onto his penis.
His napping meat started to rise like an awakening serpent as she let her fingers run up and down the smooth shaft.
"Enjoy the girl, then," Justinian said. "I'll find me another woman."
"You're taking them two at a time these days?" Antonius asked.
"Sometimes three and four!" Justinian answered as he motioned for another woman.
The second woman joined Justinian. She, too, was full and soft looking. Her huge breasts hung in front of her like heavy bags, yet firm enough to thrust out sharply.
"Which of you two wants to feel the weight of my cock inside you?" Justinian asked with a deep rasp in his voice.
The two women looked at each other, then back at him. They were both willing to get down and spread their legs for him. He looked at them, then spoke to the voluptuous woman who had sucked him off.
"You sucked me well, so I'll give you my meat. Get down and open wide, wench, you're about to be fucked so well the gods will weep with envy!"
The woman eagerly got down and spread her legs, hoisting her feet high into the air.
"And you," Justinian said to the new woman, "lie next to her with your thigh under her head. I'll lick you till you howl with delight!"
The second woman quickly obeyed, sliding her ample thighs under the first woman's head so that her spread vagina was next to her head.
Then Justinian got down on top of the spread woman and let her guide his penis onto the lips of her furry flesh. As soon as his meat was poised at the entrance, he gave a mighty shove that sent his still rod slithering deep into her. She groaned and closed her eyes as his first thrust slammed deep into her.
Then Justinian put his mouth on the crotch of the second woman and started a fierce licking. He fornicated with the same heavy rhythm he used for mouthing the helpless flesh that was spread open before him.
Again and again his penis sailed into the reclining woman's exposed vagina. She wailed with joy at each thrust, drawing her knees back and spreading wide to take all of him.
Antonius and the girl watched for a while, but the tender strokes of her hand soon made him turn to her and say, "Lie down and we will have our own fun."
"Sire, you are very large. Please be gentle or you will tear me."
"I will be gentle for as long as I can," Antonius said as the young girl rolled onto her back and spread her legs.
He looked at her for a moment. She was so young, yet so willing to receive him. She closed her eyes and waited for him to get on top of her, to send his fat penis deep into her tight young tunnel.
Antonius aimed himself, then started to shove. He met with resistance and said, "Spread your legs wider and it will be easier."
She did this, opening wide for him. Again he shoved and the head of his rod forced its way into her. He withdrew slightly and moved around to cover the head of his shaft with her lubricating juices.
And again he leaned into his task, this time opening her wide with his massive strength. It went in a little deeper and the girl gasped as a sharp pain flashed through her. Antonius was going in deeper and deeper with each slow shove. In a little, then back out again.
Then, knowing that his penis was well greased by her generous lubricants, he gave her the full measure of his thick meat.
She groaned loudly as he sent his meat into her. His penis had spread her open and now penetrated deep into her young flesh. Again he went in, giving her his full rod in her sloshing abyss.
His penis slid along the hard bud of her clitoris as it made its way in and out of the juicy tunnel. Now his rhythm picked up, going in and out faster and harder as the young girl under him moaned in pleasure.
Next to them, Justinian was taking delight after delight with the two women. While he fornicated one, he ate the other. All three of them were reveling in the animal passions that come just before the lightening of orgasm.
Justinian's meat sailed into the groaning woman's vagina. The second woman was breathing heavily. He opened his eyes and looked out onto the curving plane of her belly as his tongue whipped in and out of her. Each time she took a heavy breath her stomach would heave and undulate. As he was looking out onto her stomach, studying the two large breasts that lay above her stomach, she suddenly took a deep breath and held it. Her stomach tightened and her head rocked from side to side. She started to buck up and down as Justinian's mouth dragged her into the abyss of sexual climax. She was coming again and again.
The woman he was fornicating heard the cries of pleasure and she, too, started having an immense orgasm. It was not long before Justinian's own rhythm became heavy, even ominous as the spasms of climax started to take hold.
The two men and three woman frolicked on the pillows, openly expressing themselves as other couples in the room did the same, or just sat around and chatted. As the five gleeful participants assaulted one another, a couple strolled by them talking about matters of politics.
Antonius' rod had been getting a terrific amount of friction because of the girl's tight vagina. With each stroke he felt that he was about to burst open and flood the entire room with torrents of swirling cum. Then, suddenly, it happened.
Some incredible force took hold of his body and he was no longer the master of his motions. He was being convulsed by the demanding strength of his climax. Wham! Wham! Wham!
He went into the young girl mercilessly, uncaring of the pain it might be causing her. She opened wide to accept his attack, grateful to be the one he had chosen to spill his sperm into.
Suddenly all five of them were rolling and convulsing on the pillows, howling and coming. The room echoed with their cries of joy. Pe-nises whipped in and out of gaping chasms and the two women and the girl were crying out their thanks for the fine service the two lusty generals were giving them.
Then it was over, the last shudders of pleasure gone. Antonius and Justinian rolled off their partners and lay back, relaxing in the glow that follows a particularly fine romp.
Justinian seat the two women away after they had brought more wine for him and Antonius. The girl still lay in Antonius' arms as Justinian spoke.
"Damn it. Antonius, are you going to covet that child all day, or are you going to drink your wine?"
Antonius looked at his smiling friend, then said to the girl, "You pleased me."
"Thank you, sire."
"Now let us be alone for a while," Antonius said. "But do not be gone too long. I feel I shall want you to please me again."
The succulent girl stood and donned her robe, slowly covering her soft flesh.
"I shall not be gone long," she said with a smile as she left.
CHAPTER TWO
THE END of the Roman Empire marked the end of open group sex practices in the Western World. With the empire's demise, and the subsequent rise of Christianity, came an era which saw no openly condoned group sex activities.
There were, however, numerous instances of group sex conducted behind closed doors, in secret, and for purposes of religious worship. Various cults, sects and orders held group sex in high esteem, regarding it as a way of establishing a communal bond that brought members closer to one another. Often under these circumstances group sex took on a symbolic meaning to the participants.
The members might dress as gods, then offer themselves to the others present for copulation. Such a transformation took the participants out of the realm of worldly indulgence, and onto the pious plane of religious observance.
Though such cults offered participants occasional outlets for communal copulation, there was never the freedom seen in our recent sexual revolution.
There was, however, one unique cult which, because of its unusual outlook, gave its members frequent opportunities to indulge in sex for its oion sake.
This cult, the Khlysty, had its home in Russia, and reached its peak during the 1800's. Led by a band of wandering holy men, this remarkable sect had a strong belief which must have been unique in the history of organized religion.
The sect's lay members, all good Russian Orthodox churchgoers, were taught by the holy men, also members of the Russian Orthodox church, that sin was an abominable curse upon mankind, and the only thing which stood between them and a godly nature.
They reasoned, according to factual reports, that man must indulge in sin to the most demanding excesses. Only by totally immersing oneself in sin could one then know sin, tire of it, and achieve a holy frame of mind.
Thus, this remarkable cult devoted its entire energies to the ritualistic pursuit of sin!
Needless to say, the Khlysty was looked down upon by the hierarchy of the church, but achieved amazing support among the peasants, who were quickly persuaded by the reasoning of the pious holy men who came to their villages preaching the necessity of absolute immersion in sin.
A staretz, one of the holy men, could always count on food and shelter in a peasant village. He would have been told who the faithful believers were in a particular village. Then, waiting for nightfall, he would knock at their door and announce himself. There was always need for secrecy in such matters, as not all of the peasants were convinced that sin was the only way to heaven. In addition to this, there was the hierarchy of the church to contend with. And their wrath was mighty.
Once the staretz had been fed and welcomed, he might spend serveral days in prayer as plans for a meeting were made.
Let us examine such a meeting before we take our study of group sex practices into the living rooms of modem America.
CASE HISTORY
The sun had long since set and the small rural village was quiet except for the yapping of a few dogs.
In a small peasant's cottage on the outskirts of the village, the family quietly moved all the chairs up against the wall. Their rough-hewn table was placed at the head of the room. They moved quietly and in deep reverence.
The silence was broken only by their shuffling steps and the distant wailing of the sta-retz.
He had descended into the root cellar below the cottage and had chanted and prayed all day. Over and over again his voice called out, imploring divine attention to focus on the meeting that would soon be under way.
The staretz prayed, he wept, he cried aloud, then fell silent only to call out again. His voice was shaking and resonant as he implored the divine spirit to show them the way to full indulgence in sin.
Above him, the little cottage was silent as the family waited. They sat in the dim, humid little cottage. The dark walls and dirt floor sucked up what little light came from the small lamp. Dim shadows danced in the corners as the flame flickered and bounced.
A deep smell of cabbage had been cooked into the cottage and now, in the humid silence, seemed to come alive and soak the family's heavy wool clothing.
The staretz's voice cried out, a long, piercing wail that sounded like a soul skewered on the pikes of hell. Then there were sobs, low, gagging sobs that came from the root cellar as the staretz prayed.
A soft rap came at the door and the couple looked at each other. The wife went to the door and opened it enough to jam her eye in the crack and inspect the visitors. Then she drew the door open and let another couple in.
The visitors took off their coats and sat in silence as the staretz's voice echoed through the small cottage, a muffled invocation filled with pain and sorrow.
Soon there were other knocks at the door. Other villagers arrived, some bringing older children. They waited and listened as the staretz chanted and prayed in the root cellar.
Few of them looked at one another. This was a solemn occasion. A time when they would offer themselves up to sin in pursuit of divine wisdom. They were about to glut themselves in an orgy that would last through the night. This was a time of sorrow, for they would have to pay the toll of Satan in order to know him better. And only by covering themselves with the totality of sin could they know and conquer it.
Below them the staretz wailed.
The small cottage was full now, the faces of the waiting worshippers were bathed in shadows. The press of bodies, one against the other as they sat along the walls had filled the small room with a thick smell. The humidity made them sweat profusely, and soon their heavy wool garments were drenched.
And still they waited, silent in their concentration on the distant prayers.
The voice was stronger now, no longer a whining, imploring wail, but a stout, shouting baritone. He was speaking faster, the words streaming from his lips. They could understand much of what he said, but some was lost as he cried out in the root cellar below them. It would not be long now. Soon the staretz would burst forth.
Some of the peasants started to move in their seats, rocking from side to side as they were lost in the sound of the staretz's voice. Others nodded in agreement with the words they heard.
Then, suddenly, there was silence.
The staretz was silent. They waited expectantly for the sound of his voice but it did not come. It seemed that they had waited forever when the door to the root cellar suddenly popped up and fell to one side.
In the dim light they saw the staretz climbing out of the cellar.
He was a huge man. Tall and broad shouldered, his head almost brushed against the ceiling of the cottage. His cheeks were high and sharp, his hair long and unkempt, and his face covered with a bushy, fierce-looking beard.
Without speaking, the staretz walked to the table and sat down. His eyes burned with an intensity that made the men avert their eyes, and that made the women stare at him, hypnotized by his penetrating gaze.
Staretz Efimovich had visited their village before and his powers as a holy man were legendary throughout their region of Russia. No one knew who he was or where he had come from. It was rumored that he had been the son of a blacksmith and had lived a villager's life until one day, while he was in his early thirties, he had thrown down his tools, wrapped himself in a simple cloak and abandoned his wife and children to seek a religious life. There followed ten years of prayer, self-humiliation and wandering which had somehow brought him strange powers. It was said that he could heal with a touch, kill with a glance, or even revive the dead.
To the villagers present, such stories were not rumors but the absolute truth. Staretz Efimovich was more than a holy man, he was a source of incredible spiritual power. He had but to command it, and they all would have gladly killed themselves or one another.
The staretz stared at them. It seemed that his eyes were lights themselves as they reflected the dim lantern's glow. The silence in the hot, humid room was something that almost could be touched. Something that one might be able to reach out and struggle with.
Then, without apparent cause, the staretz's face suddenly changed. Gone were the menacing scowl and intense expression. In their place came a look of absolute serenity and paternal love.
The peasants in the room felt this sudden change with a relief they could not describe. He smiled at them and they were bathed in the warmth of his friendly face.
"It is good to see so many of the faithful here tonight," he said.
His voice was soft, yet totally masculine. There was a deep resonance to it. He had spoken familiarly to them as a way of embracing them. In fact, as he talked, he spread his arms out in the gesture of a tender hug.
"Staretz!" one of the women cried, "show us God!"
"No!" another woman cried, her voice heavy with admonition, "The staretz is God!"
"Yes, he is God!" the peasants said. "No," the staretz said with a kind laugh, "I am not God
"You are! You are!" a woman cried. "You are God and you have come to teach us!"
It seemed that there would have been an argument between the staretz and his zealous followers, he protesting, they insisting. It ended suddenly when the staretz rose from his chair and spoke.
"Is there a woman here who would dance with an old holy man?"
"Yes!" one of the younger wives shrieked as she leapt to her feet and planted herself squarely in front of the staretz. "I will dance with you. I will dance with God!"
The wife's husband beamed proudly as the staretz looked her over and nodded his acceptance.
The staretz started to clap his hands in a slow, heavy rhythm. The others joined in and he started to move. His enormous frame turned with rare grace as he started to move and turn in front of the woman.
She returned his movements with her own. The peasants clapped out the beat as the staretz and the young wife stomped out a lusty peasant dance. Sweat poured from his face as the clapping grew faster and faster. All the while he stared into the eyes of the young wife, never taking them off her full-cheeked face.
The peasants beat the floor with their feet as they clapped.
Around and around the staretz flew, dancing lightly and with strength. The young wife had hoisted her long dress up to give her feet room, and the staretz caught glimpses of the flashing white skin of her legs.
Then he launched into a startling feat of gymnastic strength as he leapt, fell, rose and twisted only to fall again.
Shouts of encouragement and glee rose from the peasants as the staretz made incredible moves for a man his size. Then he gave them the signal they were waiting for. He waved his hands at them and they all leapt to their feet and started to dance.
The small cottage was packed with dancing, twirling men and women. Their shouts of joy and abandon filled the cottage.
The dancing went on and on, whipping them into torrents of sweat. Breath roared through their noses and their chests heaved with exertion. And still they did not stop. Dancing and spinning, gasping and sweating, the peasants followed the staretz's lead in the strange beginning of their conquest of Satan.
They danced for hours. Many of them now had glazed, almost wooden expressions on their faces. They were drenched in sweat and their minds were spinning from the physical strain. Some had collapsed into heaps on the dirt floor, but as soon as they regained consciousness, they struggled back to their feet to rejoin their comrades.
There was not an open door, not a single parted window to let fresh air in while they danced and cavorted in the small room. The air was so thick it felt like a rancid liquid as it poured down their throats to fill their lungs.
Then the tireless staretz led them in the next step of their pursuit of sin. He stripped off his jacket and his shirt. He was naked from the waist and now they could see how the huge man was able to live as he did. Every muscle on him was large, well-defined, and tense. His broad shoulders swept out into a huge chest which, in turn, narrowed quickly to his waist. His brawny back curved down in a question mark.
The peasants joined him, flinging off their clothing and casting it aside, uncaring of where it landed. Then the staretz kicked off his boots and pulled off his trousers. The peasants eargerly followed him, tearing and pulling their clothing off until they all danced naked in the shadowy room.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat as they frolicked naked, beating their hands and suddenly renewed by the freedom of nudity. They howled and clapped, dancing with some new energy.
The women's breasts flounced and swayed with their writhing movements, and the men's testis-filled sacs beat against their thighs. Each of them was covered with a glistening sheen of sweat.
The men were growing larger, their meat moving to the ready as they danced. Some made lewd gestures at the women, who responded to them with enticing motions of their own.
The staretz had returned his attention to the young wife who had so willingly started the dancing with him. Now she came closer to him, grinning in sheer delight and moving her hips around and around.
The huge man looked down at her, his own grin bathing her in its focus. Closer and closer they moved as the gyrating peasants flew around them.
Then came the instant the peasants had all been waiting for. The staretz threw his head back, took a massive breath of air and gave an incredible scream. The peasants screamed with him, crying out at the top of their lungs.
Then it seemed that they were all struck by a vicious madness. The peasants threw themselves at one another. They embraced and fell to the floor. The room resounded with deep, guttural grunts and savage animal cries.
It did not seem to matter who fell with whom. Fathers were rolling on the floor with their own daughters. Sons caressed their mothers and bit their breasts. Women suddenly found themselves being mauled by men they hardly knew. Men reached out to plunge their hands between unfamiliar thighs. The room had gone mad with the staretz's scream.
The pursuit of total sin had begun its final, most rewarding stage.
The staretz had grabbed the young wife and lifted her into his arms. She hung in front of him, pressed to his brawny chest by his massive arms. Staretz Efimovich started to consume her with a huge, open-mouthed kiss that sent his tongue exploring deep into her mouth.
The woman was ecstatic as the staretz threw her down onto the floor and fell upon her. She landed with a harsh thump, but had somehow reacted fast enough to spread her legs before the huge holy man came thundering down on top of her.
He slammed his penis into her with a great shove that sent her screaming to heaven in thanks.
"Aaaaahhh! God is fucking me! God is in me! Look! Look! God is fucking me!" she cried out in delirium.
Her husband heard her shrieks of joy and he glanced away from the woman under him long enough to see for himself that the holy staretz was indeed granting his favors to his wife. This made him feel wonderful, and especially grateful to the holy man.
The staretz rose up a little and slapped the woman's breasts. Back and forth his huge hand went, cracking against her full breasts as he slammed his penis into her again and again. Then he fell back down onto her with his full weight and assaulted her vagina with his still rod.
She groaned and gasped under him as his wild attack reached greater and greater heights. He was grunting with exertion and pleasure. The woman now seemed to have been transported to the very gates of eternal bliss. Her head rolled from side to side and her hands wandered across the dirt floor, clenching and unclenching as the huge staretz let her have thrust after thrust of his stiff phallus.
The entire room was filled with copulating, writhing couples.
One young girl had her legs wrapped around an older man. She spoke out, repeating what she said over and over again.
"Oh, father! Oh, father!"
The man seemed to be prodded by her words, and each time she gasped out the phrase, he sunk his phallus into her young flesh. Her hands were stroking his hair, and she kissed his neck and nibbled tenderly at him as she cried out his name. Her young thighs pressed against his sides. The smooth white skin of her body glistened in the dim light. Her closed eyes and open mouth were set in a face transformed by the final fulfillment of an old dream.
"Harder, father! Harder, please!" she begged.
The man seemed to cast gentleness aside as he responded to her urgent pleas. His strokes grew heavier and faster, harsh jabs that slammed into her. Their bellies met with violent claps as the man answered his daughter's call.
Now his penis was rushing in and out of her receptive flesh with total abandon. He was ravishing her and relishing every moment of it.
Next to them was the man's wife. She was under furious attack by a short, stocky man whose arms seemed like branches from a mighty oak.
The man, Vladimir, was the strongest in the village. Indeed, some said he was the strongest in the land. He could lift a large log, bend a thick bar of steel, or wrestle a wild horse to the ground. The woman under him had cast many a lusty glance at Vladimir. How often had he looked up from his work to see her staring at him, her breasts heaving in some sort of erotic fantasy.
Now, through the holy staretz, he was finally on top of her. He had mounted her quickly, grabbing her the moment the staretz had lifted his head to shout out the beginning of the orgy. Vladimir made sure no one else got to her first.
She had fallen onto the ground under him as the wild debauch began, begging him and crying out for him to sin with her.
Now Vladimir attacked her with the strength of ten men as her husband and daughter writhed on the dirt floor next to them.
The instant Vladimir's cock slid into her spread vagina, the woman had shrieked with joy and clenched him with her legs. She hoisted her legs high around him, locking them at the ankles. This gave him a fine target and he aimed his penis well, sticking the thick head into her, and then shoving hard to send his meat sliding past the gates of her soft, yielding flesh.
Vladimir's great strength had always fascinated the woman. She was sure that he was the only man in the village strong enough to satisfy the lusts that smoldered constantly within her. Now he was proving her correct. Vladimir's phallus was so large, and his loins so strong, that the woman was soon overcome with orgasmic pleasure.
With each mighty stroke Vladimir penetrated her, sliding his meaty lance into her depths. Even though she had spread herself as wide as she could, her vagina still ached from the pressure of his jabbing, fat penis. She howled and cried aloud, adoring the man whose meat was sending her closer and closer to God.
Next to her, her daughter was experiencing her very first climax. The girl seemed surprised by the sudden flashes that popped in her head. She had never been told that such a wonderful thing could happen. Now she was coming as her father raped her.
The man sensed his daughter's delight, and he rammed his penis into her and kept it there, gyrating his hips and stirring deep inside her with the full measure of his erect meat. This sudden change of movement seemed to send the girl into deeper orgasm and she became incoherent with joy as her father went around and around inside her.
The man, overcome by his daughter's passion, soon started to enjoy his own climax. His cum started to gush out of his penis into her coming flesh. He grunted and moved harder as the jolts of orgasm wracked his flesh.
His stream of cum filled his daughter's vagina. She felt him showering her inner walls with his juice and she started to move her little buttocks around and around to help the man enjoy his climax.
The girl's shrieks and her father's groans caught the woman's ear and she let loose, joining them in the ecstasy of climax as Vladimir pumped mightily.
The floor was covered with writhing, clawing, rolling bodies. Penises blindly sought out the nearest vagina, and female thighs opened wide for whichever male shaft got to them first.
Many of the peasants had already achieved their first orgasm of the night, and were trading partners in a stupor of religious and sexual delight.
The holy staretz was still on top of the young wife, stroking away at her with measured movements. He was a man of superhuman prowess, and he had decided that the woman under him would receive special favors tonight. He was pounding away at her, sending his penis in fast and hard. The woman, beside herself with joy and fulfillment, insisted that God himself was fornicating her. The grinning, sweating staretz now did nothing to change her belief.
Throughout the room couples copulated next to each other, getting up and swapping as the mood took them. Some of them, the man who had mounted his own daughter for example, kept the partners they had begun with.
They were covered with dirt from the floor, and the sweat continued to roll from their bodies. Before long, there was not an intelligible word being spoken in the room. All the voices were now expressing themselves with grunts, growls, or passionate moans.
In the corner a mother was fondling her son's penis. He had fornicated her once already, and she was teasing his rod back to life with her fingers. Then, deciding that her mouth might better serve to bring the exhausted lad back to life, she leaned over and took his penis into her full lips and sucked hard on it, tasting her own juices as she did so. Her own wetness had clung to her son's penis and she took them into her mouth along with his growing shaft.
The boy lay back as his mother sucked him off. It was not long before he had come to full erection. Then she got on top of him, squatting above him so his rod could slide easily into her vagina. She lowered herself down onto the boy, sighing with pleasure as her descent drove his penis into her.
When she was down on him all the way, she leaned forward so her huge breasts lay on the lad's chest. Then she started to roll her hips around and around, making his penis go to every corner of her vagina.
Then she rose up and pushed one of her breasts onto the boy's face. His mouth came alive and he started sucking the hard nipple of her breast as she gyrated on top of him. His hands were wandering up and down her thighs as she moved, massaging and tickling her close to the crotch.
In another part of the room a man had taken his first partner and swapped her for a woman he had known well from previous meetings. As he pulled her to him, she smiled and nodded.
He knew that she enjoyed a special sport. Without a word, she rolled over onto her stomach. He lay on top of her and dipped the head of his penis onto the lips of her vagina. But this time his cock was not to enter there. He was, instead, just stealing a little lubrication from her wet vagina. When the head of his penis was smeared with her juices he readjusted his aim and put the head of his meat between the cheeks of her full buttocks. "Now!" she begged.
He started to lean into his work, pressing against her tight little hole with his wet penis. She adjusted herself slightly, judging the path of his ramming lance.
"Harder. Keep shoving and it will go in," she whispered.
The man did this, keeping a constant, full force on her hole. The woman helped as much as she could, rolling her buttocks around and around so the head of his meat slowly worked its way into her.
When his penis had just penetrated her he paused for a second, then gave a good, solid thrust that sent his phallus sliding into the clinging tube of her hole. His meat went in slowly as her tight hole resisted his attack. She closed her eyes and groaned as he went in deeper and deeper.
"Ooohhh! I love'it there!" she cried.
The man was in her now, all the way and hard. He started to withdraw, easing his stiff penis out of her until just the head was being clutched by the stubborn muscles. Then he reversed himself and started another entry.
She was loosening up a little now, and his rod went in easier this time. He knew that she would soon be ready to take a steady stream of strokes from him.
A few more gentle thrusts and then he started to give her his penis, in quick, sharp jabs. When he started this the woman turned her face down onto the floor and clenched her teeth. His rod was tearing her hole apart, but it was what she wanted. Somehow this made her come. Flashes of orgasm streaked through her body. For some reason she could come with a man in her back hole much easier than with him in her vagina.
The staretz was still favoring the young wife with his repeated strokes. She had gone past the point of sexual joy, and now wept openly as the staretz shoved into her.
"Thank you," she cried, "Oh, thank you! Thank you, God!" she cried.
Just when it seemed that another of his strokes would kill her from happiness, he started to grunt and jerk. His voice rose in a screaming prayer as the cum splashed out of his penis into her chasm.
The poor woman's eyes opened wide, bulging from her head as the shock of his orgasm hit her. She was beyond the point of further ecstasy. She froze in wide-eyed frenzy, stiff and unmoving as the staretz dumped his load of thick cream into her slippery vagina. Her body became stiff, a rigid receptacle for the grunting man's cum.
His strokes were now erratic, sudden lunging, delving shoves that had no rhythm. He snarled and grunted with each shove as his penis flooded her with a rich load of gooey cum.
At least his orgasm had run its course. He slowed, tenderly plowing around in her, then he stopped. The woman seemed to shudder a bit, then a long slow breath hissed through her nostrils to fill her chest. She suddenly screamed out a high-pitched whine, like a cat in combat. Her head beat on the floor and then, as the staretz looked down at her, she fainted.
Her ecstasy had transported her beyond the realm of human endurance. The blessed sleep of unconsciousness was her only alternative. She had slipped off into unconsciousness only after making a superhuman effort to remain awake long enough to receive the staretz's orgasm.
Now she lay on the floor, eyes closed and her body moving on slightly as timid breaths were pulled into her. The staretz looked at her and smiled. She had done well. She had danced with him, and she had opened wide for him. She had sinned with gusto. He knew as he looked down at her that she would indeed find true spiritual awareness.
The staretz rose to his feet, his penis half-hard and glistening with shiny cum. As his followers writhed and fornicated on the floor, the holy man started to clap his hands and dance. He alone stood over the peasants and he hopped and chuckled around the room.
"Fuck! Fuck, my children. Sin and know sin! Sin and conquer sin! Sin without end and know heaven without end!" he called as he danced around the room.
"Faster!" he said as he kicked a man in the ass.
"Harder!" he demanded of the woman on top of her son.
"More!" he called out to the man who had mounted his own daughter.
"Yaahaaa!" he cried as he clapped his hands and cavorted about the room.
Below him the peasants worked even harder at their sins. They knew that the holy staretz was watching, and they threw their bodies into the spirit of sin. Each felt that the cold, glowing eyes looked upon him and him alone. Each stroke was a reaffirmation of faith and a testimony to the giver's piety. Each receptive vagina became a vessel of holy faith as the staretz leapt about the room, dancing and clapping.
To the woman who had called for her partner's penis in sodomy, the staretz said, "You are a good woman! You willingly seek new sins. You shall know God!"
The woman sobbed in gratitude and the man on top of her threw more of his weight into the savage strokes.
The staretz chortled with glee as the small cottage was filled with the snarls and grunts of fornicating couples. He jumped onto the table, stooping low because of the ceiling and exhorted his followers.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Aahhhaaaaaaa!!"
Then he knelt on the table and drew his hands together and closed his eyes. He was praying aloud now, asking divine guidance in their search for sin. He asked heaven to send them messengers who would show them the totality of sin. He begged that all of his followers would someday have experienced every possible sin. Only then could they tire of sin and reject it to seek a fuller, more spiritual life.
The muscular holy man called out to heaven for aid and assistance, though it seemed that few in the room were in need of any special teaching.
His voice was low and trembling, respectful of the power he was invoking, and truly desirous of help in the search for more sin. He begged heaven to make them all gluttons of sin, to let them stuff themselves with passion until they had eaten too much, until the very thought of sin was repulsive to them. Then, and only then, he was sure, could the faithful find heaven.
It was to the staretz's great chagrin, as he knelt on the table, that he had never met a man who had been totally satisfied in his quest for sin. But perhaps someday he would meet one.
CHAPTER THREE
Group sex, no matter where or when it occurs, is sure to open whole new avenues of sexual expression for the novice. Many mature adults have never had sex in the presence, or with the cooperation, of more than their immediate partner. As with all things, once one has done something in a particular way, it seems a little uncomfortable to change the old pattern.
How one first tastes the new pleasures of group sex can be as varied as the imagination allows. Whether as part of a well-planned group gathering, or an impromptu situation, the initiation into group sex is sometimes a little difficult. The hesitant timidity of the novice is a reflection of an upbringing which taught that sex is an embarrassing function. It seems to be the case, however, that once one dives into the joys of communal copulation the old morality crumbles, leaving the new devotee with a sense of exhilarating freedom.
Our brief glimpses into the past have given us a feel for how group sex has been conducted before the recent sexual revolution. Now let us address ourselves to contemporary group sex behavior.
When did group sex take hold in this country? It has been around for many years, but it has not been until the 1960's that it took its place as a relatively common, frequently practiced form of sexual expression.
The blossoming of group sex was dependent upon numerous factors. The advent of reliable, convenient birth control aids, the revolutionary frame of mind which swept the nation, a general questioning of the values which had led the country for decades, a spirit of searching for new values and most important, a proliferation of information which explained the truth about sex and its place in man's life.
The following case history explores an impromptu episode of group sex.
CASE HISTORY
Harry, a young executive, wearily dragged his coat off and threw it onto the couch. He'd spent another night at the office working late and grumbling to himself. It seemed that life had worked its way into a terrible rut for him.
He pulled off his tie, took off his shirt, and scratched his belly with a long, stretching yawn. Jesus, what a rut! He wandered into the kitchen and popped the top of a beer can. He took a long swallow then went to the bathroom to start the shower running.
Within a few minutes he'd polished off the brew and was under the steamy water singing out the chorus to his favorite ribald song. His voice rose to a howling tenor as he punctuated the lusty tune's ending.
Then he dried off, slipped on some casual slacks and a sweater. This done, he sat down in his favorite chair and started to thumb through an old magazine. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost ten o'clock. Too late to call anyone. Jesus! what a rut.
Harry was on his way to the kitchen for a second beer when the phone rang.
"Hello."
"Harry?" came a crying woman's voice. "Yes. Who's this?"
There was a long pause. Harry heard the sound of soft crying and the sniffling attempts at an answer before the female voice finally said, "Sally."
Oh, shit, Harry thought, Sally.
Sally, a beautiful redhead, was one of the most sensuous women he'd ever met. She was tall, very long-legged, and ready. But Sally had one drawback. She drank too much, and when she did, she started feeling sorry for herself. Harry had received many of Sally's distressing calls, some of them at the rudest hours of the morning.
When she called all she wanted to do was cry and complain. Harry thought about it for an instant. Perhaps it wasn't too late for Sally to be calmed down. It was, after all, too early for her to have drunk very much.
"Hi, Sally, how's it going?" he asked with a casual tone.
"Oh, Harry," she sobbed, "I'm so lonely."
"When did you start drinking?" he asked, coolly wanting the facts.
"Some of us went out for a drink after work."
Bad news. She'd been at it for four or five hours.
"Look, Sally, why don't you just take a warm bath and go to sleep. It'll all be better in the morning."
"Harry, how can you say that when you know I'm going to kill myself."
Sally always said that. She leaned toward melodrama when drunk.
"Can I come watch?" Harry asked with a chuckle. He knew from past experience that if he played along with her, the conversation would get worse and worse. He'd learned to make light of her dramatic gestures.
"Harry! You son-of-a-bitch!"
"Now, now, Sally, it's not every day that I get to witness something as exciting as suicide. What's it going to be this time, hari-kari?"
"What's hari-kari?"
"You take a sharp knife and open your stomach up with it," he said emphasizing his words.
"Stop it, you're making me sick!" Sally whined.
"Well, how about...."
"Quit it, you bastard! You're cruel."
"You're drunk."
"You don't love me. Nobody loves me. I'm so lonely," she said as she wept.
"Why don't you go to sleep?"
"'Cause I'm not at home. I'm at Peggy's place."
Poor Peggy, Harry thought before he said, "Doesn't she have a couch you can sleep on?"
"I'm not sleepy. I want to make love. That's why I called you."
Harry's annoyance with Sally took a sudden turn. Such long, lovely legs.
"Shall I come get you?" he asked.
"Come get me," she whispered.
"Where is Peggy's place?"
"Uh...."
Then Harry heard Sally talking to someone in the room with her. There was muddled talk, then a new voice came over the phone.
"Harry?"
"Yes."
"This is Peggy. Do you know where the Inverness Arms Apartments are?"
"Sure."
"Okay, I'm in number 319."
"Keep the countess out of your liquor cabinet. I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said.
"I'm not sure I can hold her down that long, so hurry."
Harry went to his car and made it to Peggy's place in fifteen minutes. When he walked into her apartment, he saw Sally draped over an armchair, one long leg thrown carelessly over to one side. He had a perfect view of the smooth skin of her thighs and the dark patch of hair under her thin panties.
"Don't move!" he said in mock seriousness. "I want to remember you just as you are."
"She couldn't move if her life depended on it," Peggy said.
Harry turned to her and saw a petite brunette. She was in her mid-twenties and stacked.
"How much more has she had?" Harry asked.
"That half-a-glass she has isn't water."
"Gin?"
"Vodka."
"Sally, darling," Harry said as he turned to the spread legs on the armchair. "Why don't we put down that glass?"
"Why don't we go fuck ourselves?" she answered.
"Sally, you know how you are when you drink too much," Harry said.
"I'm wonderful when I'm drunk. It's the only time I can see everything just the way it is," she said as she started to sob.
Peggy took Harry's coat and motioned toward a seat on the couch saying, "Have a seat. This is liable to take awhile."
"You've seen her drunk before," Harry mumbled as he looked at Sally's snatch.
"Twice before. Both worse than this."
Peggy and Harry sat on the couch and looked at Sally. Sally looked at them and said, "You hate me."
"Do you hate her?" Harry asked of Peggy. "No."
"I don't hate her. What's she talking about?"
"You two quit it!" Sally demanded.
Harry's gaze raked over her succulent flesh. He could almost feel those smooth thighs pressing against his face. He imagined that he was tonguing her out and that she was coming.
"What do you do?" Peggy asked.
"I shuffle papers for a living. Mountains of paper make their way across my desk."
"Must be exciting."
"I can barely tear myself away from it at the end of a day."
"Do you think you'll be able to get her out of here?"
"I'll try, but you know how she is."
"No one's taking me anywhere!" Sally slurred.
"Why don't we just ignore her?" Peggy asked.
"Good idea," Harry said at the top of his voice, "Let's let her sit there in her vile, drunken stupor while we exchange words of friendship."
Harry ducked just as the glass Sally had been drinking out of sailed past his head.
"Vicious assault!" he cried.
"Don't ignore me," Sally said. "You have to pay attention to me. Those are the rules."
"The rules change when you're drunk," he said.
"Harry," Sally whimpered, "Be nice.".
"I'm being as nice as I can."
"Come make love to me," she pleaded.
"I'd love to get it on with you. Let's go to my place and we'll spend the rest of the night ravishing each other's flesh."
"I want you right now. Here!"
"Sally, love, this is Peggy's living room.'"
"Peggy," Sally said, "can we fuck in your living room?"
Peggy giggled a little and said, "Sure!"
"See, it's okay. Now come here," Sally said as she slipped off her panties and threw her legs over the sides of the armchair. Her ready flesh was spread wide open for him. All he had to do was get up, drop his drawers and stick his penis into her begging flesh.
Harry looked nervously at Peggy, then back at Sally and her wide-open thighs. He thought for a moment, unable to think of something to say. For all his worldly experience, Harry never had sex in view of a third party. He cleared his throat a little and felt a flush of inexplicable embarrassment come to his face.
"Come on, Harry, fuck me," Sally teased. She saw his embarrassment and she taunted him. "Pull your cock out and put it in me. Let me have your meat in my cunt. I'm ready for you, Harry."
"Look, er, why don't we go to my place? It'll be so much nicer there."
"Go ahead, it's okay," Peggy said. "I won't mind it at all."
"Thanks," Harry said, "but Sally's kind of drunk and it'd be better if I took her home. You know, to sort of sleep it off."
"Harry!" Sally called.
"It really wouldn't be right...."
"Harry!"...." to do it right here. She really...."
"Give me some of your cock, Harry!"...." wouldn't enjoy it. She's just drunk and
"Want me to suck you off first?"...." she'd hate herself in the morning. Doing it...."
"Eat me, Harry!"
"...in front of a friend would embarrass her to death."
"Bullshit!" Sally said. "You're just chicken."
"I'll be goddamned!" Harry protested. "If you were sober I'd fuck you anywhere, any time. But you're drunk and you don't know what you're doing."
Harry had become nervous, even defensive in his argument. He was on the edge of his seat, explaining his cause to Peggy with earnest gestures and a voice that seemed to be concerned over Sally's plight.
"Harry's chicken!"
"You see what I mean," Harry said in response to Sally's last accusation.
"I think she's right," Peggy said with a giggle and a smile.
"Hey, whose side are you on?" he asked.
"I'm not on anybody's side. I just think she's right when she says you're afraid to do it in front of me."
"See, Harry!" Sally taunted. "I said you were chicken. Now come on and slip your dick into me."
"Go ahead," Peggy said. "I like to watch people fuck. It's okay."
Harry sat dumbfounded. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of the situation while still saving his masculine ego. He really was afraid to have intercourse with Sally so openly. He'd never made it except in private, and he wasn't quite sure how he'd react to trying it in front of someone. In fact, he was so nervous that he thought he'd never be able to get a hard-on.
"Peggy, let's rape Harry," Sally said.
Harry swallowed and said, "Come on, let's go to my place."
Sally got up, weaved a little, then started to take off all of her clothing.
"Let's fuck him!" she said to Peggy, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Peggy stood up and gleefully started to peel off her clothing.
"What's going on?" Harry asked in shock as the two women tore off their clothing.
"We're going to gang-bang you!" Sally chortled with delight.
"Goddamn it, guys gang-bang girls, not vice versa!"
"Where have you been, Harry?" Peggy asked. "Girls get together and fuck guys all the time."
"Harry's a prude!" Sally said as she danced naked around the room. "Harry's a prude! Harry's a prude!"
Peggy now teased her panties down around her tight little buttocks and drew them seductively down her legs. She stepped out of them and turned to face Harry. Her little muff of hair looked like a black triangle at her thighs. The nipples of her bulging breasts were hard from excitement. She faced Harry full-front, looking him over as Sally danced and frolicked around the room.
"Well?" Peggy said.
"This is ridiculous!" Harry said with a touch of indignation.
"This is fun," Peggy said softly.
She started to walk toward Harry, staring at him and watching his face. His cheeks were flushed from embarrassment. The lights in the living room seemed to be glaring brightly. He imagined that a thousand eyes were peering at him from the corners. Sweat started to roll off his forehead.
"Don't worry, we'll help you have a good time," Peggy said.
"Let's strip Harry's clothes off!" Sally yelled. She pranced toward him, joining Peggy. Peggy leaned forward and started to undo his belt.
"Wait a minute," Harry said weakly.
"No need to wait," Sally said. "We're ready!"
Harry sat paralyzed as the two wanton women pulled and tugged at his clothing. Sally slipped his sweater off while Peggy undid his pants. Item after item was rudely removed by the two lusting women as Harry sat helplessly on the couch. At last he was naked, still staring at them in disbelief.
Peggy knelt down onto the couch next to him and leaned toward his face, thrusting out a shining tit.
"Suck my tit, it'll help both of us get ready," she said.
Without waiting for an acknowledgment of cooperation she pressed down onto him, easing the little bud of her nipple between his lips.
Harry felt the rubbery mass of her full tit pressing against his lips and he yielded. His lips spread wide and he sucked hard, taking as much of her tit into his mouth as he could. His eyes closed and all he felt was Peggy's insistent pressure as she worked her tit around his lips.
Suddenly a pair of hands were making light, tickling movements on his chest. Sally was massaging his chest, her fingernails rasping softly over his skin. Then her hands moved lower and lower. She was making her way toward the erect shaft of his phallus. Without realizing it, he had grown an immense hard-on. His rigid penis grew out of his crotch like a small tree, tall and straight.
Then he felt her hands working around its base, tantalizingly close to touching it. She was teasing him now, making him want her to reach down and grab a firm handful of his anxious manhood.
Her hands circled the base of his hardness while Peggy's tit pressed onto his lips. Then her fingers ran down and weighed the bulging sac. She rolled his testicles around in her hand, gently working them back and forth.
Harry felt a numbing sensation of passion snap through his body as Sally's hands played with him. She was toying with him, making him good and ready before she finally took a handful of his steamy, rock-hard flesh.
His penis begged to be touched. It tingled with expectation. Any second now she would have to do it, take him into her soft fingers and work up and down the rigid shaft.
Then it happened, her hand let his testicles slide off the end of her fingers. For an instant she was not touching him anywhere. Then, with a firmness born of true dedication, she took hold of his phallus and squeezed it.
A fast breath rushed through his nose as she grabbed him. He made an instinctive movement, thrusting his hips so the stiff shaft slid through the middle of her grasp. He started to move his hips back and forth, sucking Peggy's firm tit all the while. Sally quickly got the message and she took over, stroking up and down. She was jacking him off, though very slowly. She was milking his muscle, squeezing on it as her firm, soft fingers slid up and down his large shaft.
Sally looked down at Harry's penis as she worked it in her hand. She watched the flaming pink head swell as her hand surged up the stiff shaft, then subside when she lowered her fingers. The head seemed to be breathing, almost as though it had a life of its own. She studied his penis, looking at the veined stalk with intense interest. The wrinkled sac hung lewdly beneath his fat, stiffness. The smooth head seemed to be poised for some great attack. As she looked at it, she could almost feel it sliding into her, deep into her vaginal abyss.
Without realizing it, she was getting closer and closer to his penis. Her lips spread as she grew nearer. Now she was just a few inches away from his ready meat, her mouth opening wider and wider. She did not realize what she was doing until the very instant that she felt the head on her lips.
The smooth skin on the head of his penis touched her wet lips and Harry again instinctively thrust his hips forward. This time, however, the motion sent his penis into Sally's warm mouth.
The sudden rush of his hardness into her mouth took her by surprise. She had not realized that she was going to suck him off until it actually happened. One second she was jacking him off and looking at his penis, and the next she had taken his meat into her warm mouth and was sucking tenderly on it.
She sucked slowly, very slowly. Her head went up and down gently. Her lips took a tight grasp on him as she sucked. Up and down. Up and down. Slowly and tenderly. Letting the head of his member slide along the abrasive surface of her tongue.
Harry moved in joy as soon as he felt his penis going into her mouth. He had tried to speed up the tempo of her ready mouthing, but she had resisted, insisting on taking him slowly. He sat back as Sally sucked him off and Peggy pressed her tit into his mouth.
Harry's hand moved, reaching out to touch the firm flesh on the inside of Peggy's thigh as she knelt next to him on the couch. As soon as his hand found the inside of her thigh she moved a bit, spreading her legs wider to give his hand more room to wander wherever it pleased. She hoped it would soon wander deep within her.
Harry squeezed the smooth flesh of her meaty thigh, rubbing and massaging it. Then he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh until the very edge of his hand felt the tickling presence of her coarse pubic hair. He paused for a moment, wondering whether to dip his finger into the wet little pocket of her fleshy goodness. He decided to tease her just as Sally had teased him.
He mouthed Peggy's full tit while Sally sucked him off. His cupped hand ran furtively around the inside of Peggy's yielding thigh, dangerously close to the dripping pouch of her begging vagina. He kept his hand close, massaging her thigh, reveling in the lusty feel of her firm flesh. He felt her move again, spreading her legs just a little more. The poor girl was begging him to plunge his searching finger into her. She wanted to feel him exploring her with his finger. But no, he'd let her wait a little more. Let her plead with him to have more stimulation by his working finger!
Sally was sucking him so well! As he massaged the inside of Peggy's thigh, Sally was doing her level best to make his penis spurt its load into her mouth.
Now his fears of just a few minutes ago seemed ridiculous. What could possibly be wrong with loving two girls at once? Why should it have bothered him to take his pleasures with more than one anxious female? His mind was swimming in ecstasy as the two women did their sexual duties. This was great stuff!!! Had it not been for the lusty wenches who now rubbed and pressed against him, he might never have known the wonder of having sex with more than one woman at a time. He thought to himself that this was better than anything he'd ever had before. Two women at once!
Peggy's tit pressed into his mouth. Sally's lips worked their magic on his penis, and the vagina near his massaging fingers fairly begged to be dipped into.
Now Harry was getting into the swing of things. He had dropped his timidity and played the new game with growing zeal. His hand had still not made its way into the moist, receptive tunnel of Peggy's womanliness.
Harry made a few more teasing motions, then let his finger run between the slick lips of her vagina and into her. He met with a little resistance and pushed harder. Peggy moaned a little as his finger forced its way into her. Now he was feeling the inside of her.
His finger ran around the wet walls, circling around and around, pushing and prodding deep inside her. She leaned into him, pressing her breast against his sucking mouth as she knelt next to him.
Sally was still taking her time, easily sliding her lips up and down on his penis.
Harry felt the sensation of his shaft grow, becoming heavier, more sensual with each of Sally's smooth strokes. Her long hair hung down onto his legs, and he felt the light, tickling of the fiery red strands as her head moved up and down. Over and over again she ran his penis into her mouth, sucking and tonguing until he was at the very brink of orgasm.
He pulled his mouth away from Peggy's breast and said, "Hey, if I'm going to fuck both of you girls you'd better stop sucking me off, Sally. I'm going to blow a load into your mouth any second now."
Sally seemed a little disappointed as she pulled the thick head from her mouth. She looked up at him and said, "Aw, I was hoping you'd shoot your cum into my mouth."
"Baby, I like to fuck, but if I shoot my cum into your mouth, I'm going to have a hard time fucking both of you later."
"Go ahead and give her a load," Peggy said. "You don't have to fuck me."
"But how will you be satisfied?" he asked.
"Don't worry," she said with a smile, "I'm sure something nice will happen."
"You sure?"
"Come on, Harry," Sally whined, "come in my mouth."
"Okay," he said. "Start sucking me off again and I'll give you a mouthful of my come."
Sally dove back down again, this time sucking harder and faster. She had decided that she wanted a load of his cum, and now she worked furtively to get it. Up and down her head flew as she coaxed his sperm.
Sally made throaty little noises as she went up and down on him, her head bouncing up and down as her lips clenched his stiff penis. Peggy was pressing her breast back into his mouth, holding the back of his head and squeezing him close. The pliant flesh was pressed against his face and into his mouth.
"Come in her mouth," Peggy whispered to him. "Give it to her. Just relax and let it shoot out of your cock. Go ahead, come in her mouth, she wants it. She's working so hard to get your cum, be nice to her and let her have it."
Harry nodded a little as Peggy's breast pressed into his nouth. He would give Sally a load all right. He'd let her have it in just a little while. The friction of her working mouth was doing wonders, flooding his flesh with an exciting glow of building excitement. It would not be long before he shot his creamy juices into her mouth.
Harry's finger had never left Peggy's vagina. Even while they talked he had played inside her, scooping and sliding his finger to every part of her chasm. Now she was moving her hips around and around, helping his finger work deep inside her.
"Go ahead, squirt it in her mouth," Peggy whispered.
Harry answered her this time with a sharp little nibble on the tip of her nipple.
"Ooooohh!" she moaned as he clenched her tightly.
Sally was picking up a faster rhythm, increasing her speed as well as her sucking. Now she slammed up and down on his penis, tickling and sucking hard, begging him to unload in her mouth.
It would not be long now. Just a few more sucks. Just a little more. Testicles tingling. Body starting to heave without conscious effort. Penis swelling, flesh starting to buzz.
"Come in her mouth," Peggy whispered.
Sally's mouth sucking harder and harder. The vagina around his finger moving around and around. Hips jerking back and forth. A tongue slapping at the head of his penis. The firm breast in his mouth.
"Shoot it into her," Peggy said softly.
Better and better. Just a little more ... a little more.
Harry suddenly jerked, shoving his lance into Sally's mouth with a solid stroke. It slammed back into her and she knew that he was going to come. She tickled his testicles with her long fingernails. Lightly stroking them and darting around the full sac. Harry couldn't stand another second of it. He couldn't stop himself. Without thinking, he just relaxed for an instant and let the first shot of cum splash into her hot, sucking mouth.
Sally dove down onto him as she felt his cum pouring into her mouth. He snapped his penis into her mouth with each jet of gooey cream. She was down on him, sucking hard and flipping her tongue around the head of his squirting penis.
She willingly let the shaft in her mouth empty its load of vital juices. The thick gobs of cream shot into her and she swished it around the inside of her mouth and let it add its own special lubricating qualities to the hot blow job she was giving him.
Harry bounced up and down on the couch, convulsing with each spasm. His finger tore around the inside of Peggy's vagina as Sally took his cream. His mouth was now stretched wide open, so far that his jaws were straining, in order to take more and more of Peggy's meaty breast into his sucking mouth.
"Give it to her!" Peggy cheered as she sensed what was happening.
She looked down at Sally whose lips were curled around Harry's penis. She saw that Sally was eagerly lapping up his flowing cream. The jolts of uncontrollable movement that flew through Harry's flesh told her that he was giving his cream to Sally's sucking mouth.
She watched Sally as Harry sucked and mouthed her breast and fingered her feverishly. Looking down, she studied the contorted look of ecstasy on Sally's face. Her mouth was a perfect circle, ringing Harry's penis. Her cheeks were drawn in from the sucking. Peggy watched Sally's throat swallowing his thick cream. Around and around her head went, tenderly thanking the thick rod in her mouth for the cream it had given her, and trying to coax even more out of the turgid shaft.
"Give it to her, Harry," Peggy said.
Harry's orgasm was now flowing freely. Cum ran out of his swollen penis into her mouth like a river. His cream had filled her mouth and she was swallowing as it came, letting the juice trickle down her throat. Sally moaned in delight as the penis in her mouth spat out its cum.
Harry was being inundated by feminine charms as he bore the weight of an immense orgasm. Peggy's breast and vagina, Sally's mouth and stroking fingers. His mind was swimming with delight as the women worked on him.
His cum finally ebbed. It had seemed that he had been coming into Sally's mouth for hours. At last the oozing cream ceased to flow, the echoes of convulsions still throbbing in his muscles.
Sally sucked him a little longer. He had shot his load into her wet, sucking mouth, and now his flesh was incredibly sensitive to the firm strokes of her tender tongue. Each time her tongue was drawn over the tingling head of his penis, a small shudder shook him. It was not like coming, but something lighter, more like a dessert after a full, satisfying meal.
His hand slowed its probbing of Peggy's tunnel. Now he was quickly filled by a sensation of warm relaxation. His mind drifted off for a few moments as this welcome feeling enveloped him like a shroud of satin.
Sally let his thick penis pop free from her mouth. She once again stared at it, studying the veined meat. It was wet and slippery from her own mouth's wetness. She milked it again, seeing it move and respond to her squeezing and handling.
Harry had moved away from Peggy's breast and had let his finger slip out of the tight little pouch of her vagina. He sat back on the couch, his head thrown back and eyes closed. He took a deep breath and let it rush out through his nose.
"That was, uh, very nice," he said with a silly grin on his face.
"See," Peggy said, "we told you, you'd like it. What were you so nervous about?"
"Me, nervous? Don't be ridiculous. I wasn't nervous at all," he lied.
"Harry," Sally said, "are you going to fuck me?"
"You bet I am," he answered, "but give me a few minutes to catch my breath, will you? That was one hell of a good blow job you gave me."
"Anybody for a drink?" Sally asked.
"I'll take two," Harry answered.
Peggy got up and fixed them all a drink. Then the three of them went to the bedroom for the next stage of their group encounter.
They pulled back the blankets and sat on Peggy's king-size bed. They sat cross-legged and faced each other. An ash tray was in the middle of the bed and they smoked their cigarettes and sipped their drinks.
Sally's drunken stupor had cleared remarkably. Harry now suspected that a good part of her drunken misbehavior was not due to alcohol, at all, but to her frame of mind. Now that she seemed to be getting what she wanted, she had calmed down considerably, and chatted cordially.
"Harry," Sally asked, "haven't you ever gotten it on in a group before?"
"Sure," he lied," lots of times. Hell, I fuck with groups all the time."
"I love it," Peggy said, "It's so much fun to swap partners and think of new ways to stimulate each other. I really like to watch what's going on. It seems to be just as exciting for me as getting in there and fucking. Watching people eating each other or fucking really gives me a charge."
"Are you going to watch us fuck?" Harry asked.
"Maybe. And then maybe something even nicer will happen," Peggy said with a sly grin.
"Like what?" Harry asked.
"You'll see," Sally said just as Peggy was about to answer.
They sipped their drinks for a while, then ground out their cigarettes and put their drinks on the night stand. Now it was time for the next bout in their group adventure.
Harry just lay back and waited to see what was going to happen. His phallus was half-hard, but soon started to swell to full rigidity as Sally once again took him into her mouth. This time, however, she was just bringing his penis back to life. She had already satisfied her desire for his cum, and now she just wanted to suck him back to sexual hardness before she let him slip into her cunt.
Peggy sat back and watched Sally sucking Harry off. She observed her friend's mouthing technique. When Harry's meat was once again swollen to full length, Sally got up onto her knees and spoke to him.
"Get up and fuck me dog-fashion," she said.
The round cheeks of her ass were sticking high into the air as she knelt on all fours. The gentle sway in her back accented the round hump of her buttocks. She spread her legs a bit and her long thighs shot down under her, smooth meaty limbs that supported her weight above.
Harry looked her over for a while, eyeing the lines of her body as she knelt on all fours. Her breasts hung down below her, now seeming to be bigger than ever. Without thinking, he put his hand out and rubbed the soft skin on her buttocks, massaging around and around and reveling in the senuous feel of her succulent flesh.
Then he got up onto his knees and guided the head of his penis onto the lips of her vagina.
"Are you ready? he asked.
"You bet!" she said as she backed into him, thus forcing his meat into her wet cunt.
As she backed up, Harry joined in and pushed forward. Together the two of them were sending his meat deep into her. She gasped a quick little breath as he broke into her and started to fill her with stiffness. When he was in all the way, he stayed in for just a second, rolling his penis around inside her to smear it with her internal juices. She again gasped a little as she felt his thick shaft rolling inside her.
Then Harry started to slide his stiff penis in and out of her juicy flesh. Slowly at first, letting a natural rhythm build up. His hands were on the small of her back as he rammed her. She had joined him in the rhythm and was backing into him as he thrust forward. They were united in a joyous beginning of sexual splendor.
Peggy watched Harry and Sally intently. She ran her own hand down into her vagina and started playing with her own clitoris. She worked the knotted little bud around on the end of her finger and punctuated this sport by occasionally dipping into her vaginal depths. She watched on, fascinated by the display taking place in front of her. Harry and Sally were building up the tempo now, working a little harder, going in and out a little faster. Peggy joined them and masturbated herself faster.
Sally's breath was coming in loud, rhythmic hisses now. She was gasping with each thrust. Peggy could not help but imagine that she, too, was the recipient of sexual pleasures. Peggy's breath was just as loud, just as passionate.
The rhythm had built to another plateau. Now the bed groaned and squeaked under the gyrations of the copulating pair. Peggy moved on the bed, sliding around in front of Sally. She lay back and spread her legs in front of Sally's mouth.
"Sally, oh Sally," Peggy called. "Please eat me!"
Sally looked down at Peggy's vagina, then dropped down onto her elbows, still leaving her buttocks high in the air as Harry stabbed her with a vengeance.
Sally spread the lips of Peggy's vagina with her fingers and moved her mouth down onto the musky muff. Sally's tongue peeked out of her mouth and tenderly started to flip up and down on Peggy's clitoris.
Peggy started to grind her hips around and around as Sally ate her flesh. She reached down and pulled Sally's mouth between her thighs. She held her head and forced her down onto her hairy cushion. Sally yielded quickly, exchanging the tender licking for heavy lapping and sucking of Peggy's vagina.
"Aaaaahh!" Peggy cried as Sally licked.
Harry looked down Sally's back and watched her head going around and around on Peggy's vagina. He started to ram her even harder. The sight of her eating Peggy had somehow stimulated him even further, and now he slammed his meat into Sally with heavy force.
Peggy's head rolled from side to side as she felt Sally's hot mouth working around her sensitive depths. The tongue between her legs was licking and caressing, and occasionally darting into the depths of her vagina. It felt so good to have Sally eat her.
The three of them had the bed banging fiercely on the walls. The room was alive with the sounds of their lovemaking. Harry shot his penis into Sally and Sally, in turn, ate Peggy's vagina. The three of them worked together toward a united orgasm.
Now Sally was taking large, rasping licks with her tongue. Peggy still held her head tightly, forcing her mouth to press hard on her vagina. Peggy's legs were spread wide, as far as they would go. She was stretching to open herself as wide as possible for Sally's flipping tongue.
Peggy lay back, reveling in the exciting union and letting the bliss of Sally's tickling tongue play on her body. She concentrated on the feeling within her. She closed her eyes and devoted all of her sensual attention to the wet, hot licking at her sensitive flesh.
Sally was doing a beautiful job. She, being a sensuous woman, knew all the right places. She knew just where to lick, how fast, and how long to stay there. She mixed little sucking nibbles with her tender lapping.
Peggy felt the tension in her hips. Her legs were spread as wide as possible, and there was a small pain in each hip, but not a bad one. Over and over again Sally dipped and nibbled. Her strong tongue pressed and prodded, as the spread girl lay back and let it happen.
Harry's thrusts were now deep, hard and getting faster. He'd been watching Sally's head bury itself in Peggy's crotch, and this, plus the magnificent feeling of the clinging female flesh wrapped around his penis, had brought him to the edge of climax.
"I'm getting ready to come!" he called out. He wanted the girls to join him in the delights or orgasm.
Sally's head suddenly started to whip around Peggy's spread thighs. She was bringing Peggy to the edge, and she knew that she would start her own orgasm just as soon as Harry's cum started to splash into her.
Peggy's stomach muscles were starting to tighten. Harry watched a ridge of tense muscles form on her stomach as Sally's mouth whirled around and around the open lips of her vagina. He knew that Peggy was getting ready to come, and that Sally, too, was ready for their group orgasm.
He started to wind his penis around and around inside Sally's vagina instead of thrusting it in and out. This motion sent the head of his penis circling deep inside her, causing an intense stimulation for both of them. Faster and faster he went, whipping his rod around the smooth, wet walls of her chasm, beating around inside her until his whole body buzzed with electrifying sensuality.
Sally picked up his movements and she started to grind her protruding buttocks around and around to help the head of his penis slam around inside her. Her hips moved and rolled as she circled her bottocks. She arched her back a bit more as she ate Peggy's vagina to make her own flesh an even easier target for Harry's prick. She was eager to take as much of him into her as possible, and the slight movement seemed to be enough for him to slide another fraction of an inch of hardness into her vagina.
He kept it in all the way until his cum was battering inside him and his whole body was being wracked by the impending climax. Then he abruptly started to slam his penis in and out of her again, His loins smacked against her smooth buttocks as he threw all of his strength into the last few strokes that would unleash the flowing river that frothed inside him.
Sally knew that he was going to let her have it. These last few strong jabs had sent his lance so far into her that she thought his penis was going to tear her apart. He banged inside her and she responded by meeting his thrusts with sharp backward movements of her own. He was tearing her apart and she loved it. He was going to come any second now and she let loose of her own orgasm, somehow using that unique device a sensuous woman has of bringing her own orgasm off in unison with her lover's.
Peggy, signaled by the heaving and slamming of the bed, also let her own orgasm start to build. Sally's mouth now flailed at her vagina, touching every sensitive part and bringing her to the dizzying brink of sexual fulfillment.
Harry gasped aloud as his cum suddenly burst forth, splashing out of the thick head of his rigid penis into Sally's tender flesh.
"Uuuunghh!" he growled as his testicles came alive and sent his cum squirting into her clutching vagina.
He beat at her insides with his rod and she launched her own orgasm. Her voice was muffled by the wet lips of Peggy's coming vagina as she cried out her pleasure. The three of them squirmed and writhed on the bed in a carnival of sensual delights. They were coming together, three released adults taking their pleasures in each other's company.
Sally's buttocks wound around and around as Harry dumped his load into her. His river of semen sloshed around inside her, filling her abyss until the thick cream was oozing out. Over and over again he jabbed deep into her, sending his steel manhood straight through the clutching tunnel.
They came together, united by a strange bond of communal orgasm. The bed shook and rattled until, at last, the thrill of the united expedition into the wonderland of sex had come to a satisfying, rewarding end. When it was over, the three of them lay on the bed, the two grinning women curled up around Harry.
"What did you think of that?" Sally asked.
"Uh, you girls can call me up anytime you're horny. I think that the three of us could turn out to be a great trio."
CHAPTER FOUR
Group sex, though often a spontaneous occurrence, is more often the result of a planned, or semi-planned gathering. The coming together of group sex advocates often takes on a festive mood. It is almost as though the participants were celebrating a new freedom.
A planned group sex meeting may have a fete members, or many. The spirit of the occasions is, however, quite similar. All concerned know what they're there for, and there is little coyness or teasing. Anyone who willingly shows up at a planned group sex party knows what the score is, and is ready for action.
It is not uncommon for a couple to throw a party where friends are invited, and they, in turn, invite other friends. The resulting group may thus consist of people who hardly know one another, or who have not even met prior to the party's beginning.
This casual nature, though perhaps frightening to those not initiated into the delights of group sex, is no bother to those who are ready to have instant sex. The impersonal nature of copulating with people one has hardly met seems to have a certain mystique of its own, an allure if you will, which adds another dimension of pleasure to the party's sexual nature.
It's as though the party becomes the creation of a small world wherein the rules of outside life are tossed aside. Within this small, closed group one can live out fantasies denied in the course of everyday existence. Imagine, if you will, a world, though an admittedly small one, wherein the entire citizenry walks around naked and eager for sex. A world wherein all one has to do is express one's desire for another, and the desire is immediately and unhesitatingly satisfied-right on the spot!-while others either talk or pursue their own pleasures around you.
The atmosphere within such group encounters takes on an almost surrealistic feeling. The sensual urges of everyday life are not stifled, but amplified and rewarded. Whereas the sight of a pretty woman on the street might bring certain sexual urges to mind for a healthy adult male, he cannot act on them. He can, at best, try to meet the woman who has caught his fancy and try, as best he can, to begin the complicated, frustrating ritual that leads to intercourse.
In the closed world of the group sex party, however, the same man could see the same woman and immediately approach her with a direct proposal. She most likely would immediately accept this offer and the two of them would settle down on a convenient spot and pursue whatever treats they cared to.
We can see why the numbers of group sex advocates are swelling daily. Within the group sex encounter one finds a freedom of choice and expression that are denied under the old custom of a long mating ritual followed by furtive intercourse in carefully arranged privacy.
Women, unusually, are the ones who seem to be the most liberated by such experiences. Men in our culture have the predator's role. Women, on the other hand, have played a passive, victim's role in sexual activities. This arbitrary assignment of sexual roles has served to frustrate and deny the natural urges which women have. A woman walking down the street may see an interesting man, but she cannot act out her desires in even a limited capacity. She must wait until a man makes his approach, and only then can she have some influence over the course their relationship takes.
During group sex encounters women find themselves suddenly free from their old roles, arid are given an opportunity to become predators. Their natural instincts are given full rein and this is often a new and satisfying experience for them. They are suddenly given an opportunity to be the ones who make the aggressive moves, the ones who spy a sexy looking potential partner and make the first move.
Another role-shattering part of group sex activities is its outright negation of the old myth that women must sit at home while the men go out and play. It has been a hallowed, though obviously hypocritical, part of our culture to damn any woman who gives herself to more than one man, while winking at, and silently applauding, men who seduce scores of women. The group sex encounters suddenly free a woman to give, and take, from many men without coming under social criticism. The world in which she does this, after all, is comprised solely of like-thinking men and women.
While not all group sex encounters are planned, we find the planned encounters filled, with greater numbers of sexually released men and women. The simple act of committing oneself to frequent and planned group activities usually brings about a whole new outlook toward others, and toward oneself. These planned encounters take on a feeling of group therapy which slowly helps men and women learn to express themselves, to be more tolerant of the expressions of others, and which somehow evokes a wider feeling of sensitivity.
The following case history illustrates a large group encounter. We can see by studying the reactions of those present that they have outlooks which are much broader and much more realistic than those who still think of sex as a dark, personal matter and the source of embarrassment and original sin.
CASE HISTORY
The stereo set in the plush living room was playing lively pop tunes and ten or twelve couples stood naked and chatting in various parts of the large room.
The party was just getting under way and couples were still arriving. The hostess, an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, answered the door and welcomed new arrivees, showing them where they could pile their clothing.
A well-stocked bar stood against one wall, and the guests helped themselves to whatever they desired. Some of the younger couples shied away from the bar, preferring to pass well-rolled joints of good grass between themselves.
There was no lovemaking as yet, but not because the guests were hesitant about taking their pleasures. They were enjoying a nice little period of social chatter, and waiting for all the guests to arrive. Once everyone had arrived then the quick decisions could be made and the party would get off to a roaring sexual start.
A man leaned against the back of a couch and chatted with a woman who had just come up to him and introduced herself.
"Have we met before?" she asked.
"Yes, about two months ago at the Harrison's party."
"Hmmmm," she said as she looked at him again. "Did we fuck?"
"Uh, let me see," he said, thinking hard. "No, I don't think we did. You sucked me off for a while, but then I got involved with someone else and we never did get around to screwing."
"Oh, yes! Now I remember you," she said with delight. "I was a little pissed-off about that. I mean, what the hell, I suck your cock and someone else gets to fuck it!"
"Sorry about that," he said.
"No apologies necessary. We'll make up for it tonight. I'll suck and fuck you first. That way we'll get it taken care of before the night really gets going."
"That's a deal," he said. "What's your name?"
"Pat. What's yours?"
"Jimmy."
"Pleased to meet you, Jimmy. Don't forget, I get your cock first when things get rolling."
"It's a promise. You're the first chick I fuck tonight."
"Excuse me, I have to go around and line up a little more action," she said.
Jimmy nodded and watched as Pat made her way around the room talking to various men.
"Hey," she said to a muscular young stud, "I already have my first fuck lined up, but how about us making sure we get together before the night's over."
The young stud looked her over and said, "Yah, I was looking at your buns a little while ago. Sure, we'll do some fucking before the party's over."
Pat smiled at him and gave a light pinch to the end of his penis before she started to walk around the room again.
"Oh, Pat!" a woman called out as she strode by-
"Hi, Sandy, how are you?"
"Horny, goddamnit, and I don't want you lining up every cock in the room for yourself!"
Pat laughed a long lusty chortle and said, "If I thought I could do it I'd fuck them all, but I know the rest of you girls want a little, too."
"That's white of you," Sandy said.
"It's the least I could do for you girls," Pat responded as she again started to walk around the room.
She made a few more stops, trying to arrange for more action. This seemed to be a ritual with her. She loved to go around and talk to the men. She knew that once things got going that the early promises were hardly ever kept, but she didn't mind this in the least. Talking to the men, asking them right out if they'd have intercourse with her, seemed to give her a feeling of deep satisfaction. As she wandered about the room, she talked openly with them. She talked about "sucking their cocks," and them "eating her cunt." She did not bat an eye when she tried to get men to promise to slip their penises into her.
All of this was part of getting ready for the action. The more men she talked to, the wetter her vagina became. It seemed that the excitement of talking openly with appealing nude men was, in itself, a source of sexual pleasure. She knew that there would be plenty of stiff meat for her once the party started, but this early ritual was a little something extra that helped her get good and excited for the carnival of pleasures that would soon follow.
Pat eyed a young couple and she walked over to them.
"Hi," she said, "I haven't met either of you yet. I'm Pat."
"This is Karen, and I'm Mike," the young man said.
"Are you two together for the night?" she asked.
"No," Karen said. "We're married, but we came to the party to find some new action."
"Have you ever balled with a group before?" Pat asked.
"Sure, lots of times," Karen said. "We like it because it's a good honest way for us to make love to others without getting deeply involved. You know, it's all just a lot of fun and nothing else."
"That's good news," Pat said. "I like your husband's looks. Do you mind if I have an honest little chat with him? You don't have to go, I just want to ask him some things."
"Sure, go ahead."
"Mike, what do you like to do first?"
"Oh, fingerfuck a little, and then eat each other. Nothing real fancy, I guess. Just good old fashioned sixty-nine and then a little good fucking."
"Does he do a good job of eating pussy?" Pat asked Karen.
She grinned a little and said, "He's really good. When we first started balling, before we got married, he was kind of shy about eating pussy. He'd be a little too slow and a little too hesitant. I told him what to do, and now he eats the hell out of a pussy."
"How's his cock?" Pat asked as she eyed Mike.
Karen answered her honestly by saying, "Great to suck on and good inside. He puts it in hard and fast and really cranks up the action when he's in your cunt. Why don't you fuck him tonight and see? How about it Mike? Could you dig fucking Pat?"
"For sure," he said as he looked the brazen wench over.
"Do you like to fuck on top, or would it be okay with you if I squatted down on top of your cock and took charge of the action?"
"That all depends on how well you can move your ass," Mike said. "Some chicks get on top and then can't get going. It's cool if she can get her ass going and get a little action into it."
"I can move my ass," Pat said. "I can really move my ass, baby."
"Okay, you let me know when you want to fuck and I'll let you get on top."
"Thanks," Pat said as she left the couple. As she walked away she waved back at Karen who returned the wave with a grin.
Pat still made her way around the room, assaulting new guests and getting herself all warmed up for the action that would soon be coming. She asked one fellow if he liked to "get oiled up and then fuck on a plastic sheet." He looked at her and said that he liked it, but only if they greased themselves up after they had eaten each other. He said that he "didn't like to eat a pussy that had a lot of baby oil on it."
Pat agreed with him, saying that "sucking cock wasn't too much fun if the stiff prick was covered with oil." Besides, she said, then she couldn't get right down to the real flavor of her lover's hard penis.
Sandy, the friend who had admonished her for her greed, came over and said, "Pat, if you ever got all the men you talked to you'd have callouses on your cunt."
"I don't care if I don't get them. I just like to talk to them about it. Goddamnit, all day I work at the office and see fine-looking men around and I can't make the first move. You know how it is with a woman in this country. We can't just walk up to a man and say 'Hello, I'd like to meet you and maybe go to bed with you.' It's a shame, but I hold it all in until the parties, and then I go around and talk to the men."
"I think I understand," Sandy said.
"Well, how about you? Aren't you tired of wanting to fuck guys and not being able to do it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"A girl always has ways of teasing a man into making the first move," Sandy said. "If I see something that looks interesting, I make sure he sees me. Then, when he's made the first move, it's easy to lead the situation into bed as fast as you want to go."
"That's a lot of crap!" Pat said. "You're still having to wait for him to make the first open move. Okay, you can be sure he gets a nice look at your legs, or you can walk sexy for him and tease him, but what about just seeing a guy and walking over to him and asking him to go to bed with you?"
"I've never done that."
"That's what I want to do. I don't like playing a tease until the poor guy works up enough courage to come over and introduce himself to me. I just want to walk up and ask him to slip his cock into me. That's why I do it at the parties. I get a real charge out of finally being able to just put the make on a guy, talk the way I want to talk, and lay it all on the line-right up front!"
"Sounds like it would be fun," Sandy mused.
"Why don't you pick out a guy here and walk right up to him and lay it on the line."
"Why should I? When things get rolling I can fuck anyone I want to."
"It's not the same. Being a quiet little rabbit waiting for the right wolf to come along is okay, but it's not like being a she-wolf."
"Hmmmmmmmm," Sandy murmured as she looked down at the floor deep in thought.
"Go ahead," Pat said, coaxing Sandy on. "Pick out a man you haven't met and start talking about it. You make the first move and come on strong. I bet it'll do your head good."
"But what difference would it make? If I see a man I like, I can tell him I want him without going up and making a conversation out of it."
"It's not the same."
"Well, okay," Sandy said as she looked around the room.
"No fair just going up and making small talk," Pat said. "You have to walk right up and start talking strong sex and let him know you want some of his cock."
Sandy laughed a nervous little giggle, then looked around the room for a likely fellow. She saw a well-tanned man standing on the other side of the room. He'd just arrived. Sandy walked toward him with Pat following a few steps behind. Pat wanted to stay within earshot to be sure Sandy made the right approach.
Sandy walked up to the man and said, "I want you to fuck me."
The fellow looked at her, sizing her up. His eyes paused on her breasts, round, smooth orbs that were thrust out in front of her. Then he looked her right in the eyes and said, "Sure. Right now?"
"No, a little later, when everyone's here."
Pat walked around behind the man so Sandy could see her over his shoulder. Pat cleared her throat and made a circular gesture with her hand that told Sandy she should keep up the line of conversation.
"Uh, how do you like to fuck?" she asked. Pat nodded vigorously as a way of silent applause for this question.
"Any way is okay with me," the smiling man said. "How do you like it?"
Sandy paused for a second, then said, "Good and fast. The longer it lasts, the better I like it."
Sandy was getting the hang of it. As she looked squarely at the man and talked in plain words about her sexual preferences, she experienced a strange feeling of exhilaration. She had been to many parties and had never been shy about granting her favors or in letting a man know that she was ready for him, but this was the first time in her life that she'd ever just openly talked about intercourse.
"Sometimes I just like to have my pussy eaten," she said, getting the hang of it.
"You let me know what you want," the man said, "and I'll take care of your action. But if you want me to eat your cunt, you'll have to suck me off while I'm doing it. Do you like to suck cock?"
"Love it," she replied.
"How about having a man come in your mouth?"
"If that's what he wants, then that's what I'll give him. I know that a lot of men like to have their cocks sucked, but don't want to waste their cum by shooting it into a woman's mouth. They liked to get sucked and then, when they're almost ready to shoot the works, they put it in my cunt and blow their wad there."
The man smiled at her approvingly. She had tantalized him with her forward approach and honest talk.
"I like to shoot my first load into a woman's mouth, and then fuck. That way I can last longer while I'm in her pussy. You said you like to have your fucking last a long time, so we'll do it that way. We'll eat each other and I'll shoot a load into your mouth. Then I'll be able to make it last longer when I get into your pussy."
Sandy's vagina was growing wet. The talk had excited her and she felt the moisture building inside her and seeping out onto the lips of her vagina.
She smiled at the man and said, "See you later, then."
The man smiled back and walked away. Pat came over to Sally, an I-told-you-so look in her eye.
"Well?" Pat asked with a superior tone in her voice.
"Gee, that was fun. I'm all turned on already! God! my pussy is just aching for him. It was easier than I thought it would be."
"Why would it be hard?"
"I just thought that talking, well, dirty to a man would be hard to do, but it was a lot of fun. We were just being honest about what we both wanted."
"I told you it was fun."
"It never bothered me to let a man I wanted fuck me, but I always let him know what I wanted subtly. You know, by pushing his hand down onto my cunt if I wanted him to fingerfuck me, or by sucking him off and getting my pussy near his face if I wanted him to eat me. But I never just came right out ahead of time and told a strange man what I wanted from him."
"Do it some more," Pat said. "You'll really enjoy it."
"Maybe that's wrong," Sandy said with a frown.
"Why?"
"If I get used to doing it at parties, what's to stop me from starting to talk to strange men like that out on the streets? I mean, what if one day I forget myself and walk right up to a sexy-looking man and ask him to fuck me?"
"So? What would be wrong with that?"
Sandy thought about it for a moment, then said, "Nothing, I guess!"
Pat laughed and so did Sandy. It seemed that Sandy, for all her worldly experience, had made a great discovery. She now felt somehow sexually equal to men. She'd always cast herself in the role of the apparently passive female. Now, through this exhilarating discovery, she would be able to don the costume of the predator and express her desires to men, just as they were free to express themselves to her.
Sally was thinking to herself when the room echoed with a loud shout.
"Speedy!" the hostess cried as she opened the front door.
A short, thin little fellow with a bald head roared into the room shouting and waving his arms, "Hey, everybody! Speedy is here! Ya-hoooooo!"
He tore around the living room at a full run, smiling and leaping into the air. Many of the women called out to him and cheered his antics. He threw off his clothing as he ran around the room shouting and prancing.
"Yahoooooo!" he cried.
Within seconds he was naked and dashing around the room, leaping onto chairs and tables, crawling between the spread legs of standing women, somersaulting on the floor, and finally, with an incredible movement, he sprung from the couch, did a flip in mid-air and landed on his feet in the middle of the room.
"Who wants a fuck?" he shouted at the top of his lusty voice.
Every woman in the room cried out an affirmative answer and Speedy grinned a broad, little boy's grin and moved quickly to a body builder's position and flexed his muscles. His skinny little frame rippled with small, but well-defined muscles.
Then he howled like Tarzan and raced around the room again. All present were in stitches as the comical little guy pranced and cavorted about the room.
Speedy was the owner of a popular restaurant, and it was not often that he could take time from his duties to make it to a group sex bash. When he did, however, he really let his hair down. He was the talk of the group for weeks after any party he attended. No one, but no one, enjoyed himself as much as Speedy.
"Okay, girls, line up!" he said.
The women were eager to play Speedy's fun game, and they lined up, one behind another, for Speedy's inspection. He assumed an arrogant posture and looked at the first woman in the line. His face became a disdainful scowl, then, as though giving her a break, he said, "Okay, but only once for you."
He motioned the giggling woman to one side of the room and inspected the second. She too, went to the same side of the room. Then he quickly made his way down the line, ordering each woman to the same side. When he had at last approved all of the women present, he turned to the men in the room and said, "You can all go home."
"Come on, Speedy," one of the men said, "give us a break. You can't have them all!"
"I don't want them all. You guys can have one."
"Which one?"
"Hey, Sylvia, come on in!" Speedy called. He had left his date standing at the door in his flamboyant entrance.
The men watched as Sylvia walked into the room. What a knockout she was. A delicately sculptured face with high cheeks and emerald-green eyes. She was not only sexy, she was aristocratic.
Though still fully clothed, her figure was quite apparent. She had the sort of body a truly beautiful woman must have. Not a girlish figure, not a heavily curved figure, not a sweater-girl figure, but the totally feminine, mature figure of a magnificent, receptive woman.
"Speedy, it's a deal!" one of the men yelled.
"Bullshit," cried one of the women on the other side of the room. "We get Speedy and she gets all of you? No deal."
"Hey, what'sa matter with you?" Speedy said in mock indignation. "You think I can't handle all your action?"
The women broke up in laughter at Speedy's bravado. The little guy had a winning charm about him, and his sense of humor and vital energy won him friends wherever he went. One of the women went over and put her arm around his waist and rubbed his bald head with her other hand. She was several inches taller than he, and she pulled him down onto her full breast, as though consoling a disappointed little boy. Speedy went along with the gag, but added his own flourish by taking a big mouthful of her breast.
"Speedy! In front of all these people?" she asked.
Hey," Speedy called, lifting his mouth from her tit, "anybody here never seen anybody suck a tit?"
Then he paused for a moment and turned back to the woman and said, "Quit your bitchin'. These are all friends."
"In that case I guess it's all right. Have all of my tit you want, you sexy little son-of-a-bitch."
"Excuse me folks," he mumbled as he went back to mouthing the woman's tit.
Sylvia, Speedy's beautiful companion, peeled off her clothing to the delight of the men present. She walked over to the bar and fixed herself a drink. She had just finished making it when a tall blond fellow walked over to her and spoke.
"You're very beautiful."
"Thanks," she said lifting the glass to her lips.
"I haven't seen you at any of the parties before. Are you new to this scene?"
"Hell no, I'm not new. But I'm from out of town. I'm an old friend of Speedy's and he thought I might like seeing what the action is like here."
"Glad he did."
"Why isn't anyone making love?" she asked.
"It's just about time for things to get rolling. We like to talk for a while first and wait for everyone to get here."
"It's not like that back home. Where I'm from, the action starts right away."
"You impatient?"
"I like to do what I came to do."
"Why don't we find ourselves a nice spot on the rug and see if we can't get the party rolling. It doesn't take long once things start," he said.
"I see a nice spot on the rug right over there," Sylvia said as she pointed at the middle of the floor.
"You really do want the party to get going, don't you?"
"I hate a dull orgy."
"I like your style," the man said as he led the way to the middle of the floor.
They sat down on the rug and Sylvia finished her drink and set the glass aside. Then she leaned over and put her hand on the back of the man's head and pulled his mouth to hers. They wrapped in a long, tender kiss. Their open mouths met and their tongues met and caressed. They lay back, stretching out on the soft rug, continuing their consuming kiss. They were on their sides, pressed against one another from head to foot. The man, Jack, felt Sylvia's warm breasts squeezing against his chest. Her belly was flat against his, and his growing penis was flat against her leg.
They moved as they kissed, feeling one another and rolling their bodies around. They rubbed and squeezed against each other as their mouths met in a long, wet kiss. Around them the others were still chatting and Speedy was pulling off some more antics.
It was not long, however, before the conversation slowed and several of the others took note of Jack and Sylvia. Sylvia had thrown her long leg over Jack's hip, and his penis was now between her legs. He moved back and forth, sliding his phallus along her vagina, not yet slipping it in. She helped him by slowly moving her hips in unision.
His stiff penis slid back and forth along the furry crevice, stimulating both of them as they continued to kiss and caress one another.
"Hey, Sylvia!" Speedy called out. "What'sa-matter, can't you wait?"
Sylvia didn't stop what she was doing. She ignored the boisterous little fellow and continued to concentrate on the feeling of Jack's phallus between her legs. Back and forth they moved, tantalizing each other and building up to a white-hot peak of sensual expression.
The conversation had dulled a little. Some of the people were just standing in the room watching Jack and Sylvia. Before long, hands were reaching out and landing on soft buttocks. The party had started.
Speedy cracked a few more jokes, then calmed down and started to chat quietly with a young blonde. All over the room couples sought each other out and started to caress or kiss.
Jack and Sylvia were ahead of the rest, and they seemed to be only a few seconds away from actual coitus when Sylvia pulled back from the hot kiss and said, "I fuck better if you eat me first. Lick my cunt for a while and I'll make it worth your while later on."
Jack smiled at her and said, "Lay back and spread those legs, .baby. I'm going to eat your pussy as long as you want me to."
"Shall I suck your cock while you're eating me?"
"No, I'm about to come already. Just let me eat your pussy for a while. I'll get my kicks when we get down to the fucking."
"Go ahead, then."
Jack started to mouth his way toward her breasts. His searching lips found the buds of her nipples and he stimulated them before sliding down a little more to start licking her belly. He took large, mouthing sucks on her flesh as he slowly slid lower and lower. He was on top of her, sliding down toward the fine hair on her crotch. Her pubic hair was tickling his chest, rasping against him and telling him that his goal was not far off. Again he slid down, this time until her muff was tickling his chin.
Sylvia spread her legs again, this time wide open. In just a few seconds she'd feel him between her legs, licking and working around. Jack made the last move, now he was between her legs. He caught the rich scent of fine perfume. Then he reached down and put his arms under and around her thighs.
He nibbled at the fleshy meat of her thighs before he ran his tongue up the slit of her vagina. It was a slight, teasing little lick, but he felt her take in a sharp breath as his tongue passed over her clitoris.
Then he lapped up and down a little, taking the salty taste of her juices into his mouth. His tongue suddenly made a deep penetration and he felt her firm thighs close around his head.
"Oh, baby," Sylvia moaned. "Eat me!"
Jack needed no more coaxing. He suddenly dove down onto her and started mouthing with true zeal. His tongue flashed in and out of his mouth, like a whip that lashed at her clitoris. She loved every heavy stroke and started to buck up and down to increase the feeling within her.
Jack's head was caught between her firm thighs and his arms were wrapped around them as he labored between her thighs. She was really loving it, and her voice cried out her congratulations for his excellent technique.
Around them some people still watched, enjoying the visual show that was going on in front of them. Pat, the woman who enjoyed talking to men, now sat back with Jimmy on the couch. She was watching Jack and Sylvia go at it.
"Do you think we'd look that sexy if we got down on the floor?"
"Probably even better," Jimmy answered. "Why would we look better?"
"Because you'd be sucking my cock."
She reached over and took a firm grip on his stiff prick and said, "What are we waiting for?"
The two got down onto the rug and lay next to Jack and Sylvia. Pat rolled onto her back and spread her legs. Jimmy got on top, leaving his long, hard penis pointing down at her mouth. Then he reached down with his fingers and opened her vagina before going down to take the first good lick.
His tongue slid along her flesh just as her hot mouth closed around his phallus. He felt the ring of her hot lips close around the head of his protuberance. She had taken him into her wet mouth and was just holding on. Suddenly her tongue leapt up and flicked out on the sensitive skin. He lowered himself, eating her vaginal depths and driving his penis into her mouth. His meat slid along her tongue and to the back of her throat.
The living room was now filled with couples in the early phase of sexual fulfillment. The room was quiet except for the occasional outburst of an ecstatic voice and the constant music from the stereo. Various grunts and moans rolled on the edge of audibility, and the rustling hiss of flesh moving against flesh added its own dimension of reality to the sounds one heard.
Jack and Sylvia, and Jimmy and Pat were in the middle of the room enjoying the delights of oral sex. All around them couples touched and fondled. Some liked to snatch little glimpses of visual stimulation.
These people occasionally looked away from what they were doing to watch the activities of the others. Eyes watched intently as breasts were squeezed, buttocks rubbed, penises sucked, and vaginas eaten with gusto.
Speedy and his blonde friend, Jean, were in an apparently awkward position. Speedy sat on a comfortable armchair with Jean sitting sideways on his lap, her feet draped over one arm of the chair as she rested her back on the other.
Speedy was kissing her and running his hand feverishly between her thighs.
"Hey, baby, you want Speedy to fingerfuck you?" he asked.
"Anything you want," the receptive little bundle answered.
He reached down a little more and dipped his finger into her. She leaned forward and started to kiss him as he shot his stiff finger into her tender flesh.
"Hmmmmmm! That feels good," she whispered.
"You just relax and let Speedy take care of you. I'll show you what's good!"
"Anything you want. Any way you want it."
Speedy went back to her mouth, kissing her and letting his tongue go in and out of her open lips. She clenched her wet lips around his tongue and started sucking it as it slid in and out of her mouth. He moved his tongue in and out with the same rhythm he'd have used were it his stiff penis. In and out his tongue went. In and out his finger went. He was penetrating her in two places and using the same movements.
It was not long before Jean got the idea and asked, "Maybe you'd rather have your cock in my mouth."
"You bet!" Speedy said.
Jean got up and sat down on the floor in front of the chair. Speedy spread his legs and the little blonde put her head on his legs. She licked him for a while, then went up to the hardness that shot up like a pole from the hairy mat on his crotch.
She closed her eyes and started to rub the head of his penis on her lips. She didn't take him into her mouth, but started tickling him by rubbing lightly along the tight skin with her soft lips. She flipped her tongue out every now and then to moisten her lips. Back and forth she moved, circling the pulsing head with her soft, gentle lips. She moved in a slow, easy motion that seemed to be on the very verge of breaking into a fast, wild spin.
Her lips spread a little and now she was taking a bit more of his penis, but still not sucking. Her spread lips were around its tip, going around and around while the excitable little character in the chair smiled and groaned.
"Baby, you're going to make me come! Keep that up!" he said.
Jean knew that this would happen. She knew that a girl could make an excitable man blow his rocks just by tickling the end of his penis with her lips. She could just as easily have taken his swollen tool into her mouth, but this was something different, and he seemed to be enjoying it.
She held his stiffness in her hand as she brushed her lips against it. Now she started to move his penis with her hand as well as circle around it with her head. This increased the friction and made it a faster, harder sensation. Speedy lay back on the plush armchair and let Jean play this unique game with his prick.
It was really starting to feel good. She knew just where to brush her lips. He was alive with buzzing vibrations even though she was just playing with the head. She was going faster and faster, whipping the head of his penis around her lips.
It was getting better and better. So good. So very good.
"Baby, I'm gonna come!" he moaned.
Jean then reached up with her other hand and tickled his balls. That was all the poor little guy could take. She played lightly on his balls for a few seconds, then he just let loose with his load.
Jean felt his penis swell in her hand. She felt the spit of the first gob of cum. That was when she opened her mouth wide and, for the first time, took him honestly into her mouth.
She went down hard and fast as his cum started to spurt out of the head of his awakened penis. She continued tickling his balls as she went down and sucked up the cream that poured Out.
Speedy shot his wad into her mouth. The curvy little blonde sucked hard on his steel member and tickled his balls to make it a good orgasm for him. He thrust his hips, shoving his penis in and out of her clinging lips as his cum splashed out.
Jack and Sylvia had finished their preliminaries and he was just about ready to mount Sylvia when Speedy's load started to shoot into Jean's mouth. Jack looked up for an instant and caught a glimpse of Jean's heavy sucking before he turned his attention back to Sylvia.
She was spread wide open under him, her knees high in the air. Her gaping vagina was just waiting for him to slip into it.
"Put me in," he said.
He was on top of her, the head of his hard penis right at the lips of her vagina. She reached down and guided his meat into her depths. He felt it meet the slimy opening and he leaned forward just a little to wedge his penis i in place. Then he paused for just a second to let her get her hand out of the way. She moved quickly, wrapping her arms around him. "Go ahead, push your cock into me," she said. Jack did this, leaning in a little. He met with some resistance, but did not let that slow him down. As her tight opening resisted, he countered by pushing even harder. There was a split second when he was no longer going in, and then ; the resistance ended and she opened up for him. ; He suddenly gushed into her, easing his way through the smooth tunnel deep into her insides.
"Oooohh!" she groaned as she felt his penis going in all the way. It hurt just a little. Her vagina burned a little when he pushed his way into her, but this slight pain was quickly replaced by a feeling of sensual pleasure.
Jack drew back and poised for another shove into her burning flesh. She moved her buttocks a little to give him a better path and she braced herself mentally for the second rush of power. Jack gave it to her, moving his loins with well-aimed precision. His penis made its way into her again and she hugged him and whispered in his ear.
"Fuck me hard," she pleaded.
Jack started up a murderous rhythm. He didn't even let her have a chance to get used to the feeling of his penis in her. As soon as she voiced her request, he started pounding her in-sides. Wham! Wham! Wham!
"Oh, God!" she cried. "That's it. That's it! Harder! Harder! Tear me apart!"
Jack obeyed her plea and he sent his penis into her with hard, vicious strokes that made their bellies slap together like applauding hands. Hard and fast. Phallus slamming into the tight, clinging tunnel inside her. Her voice wailing out thanks and begging for more.
Some of the others in the room paused for a moment to see what was going on. They watched as Jack sailed into her with harsh, demanding strokes.
"Ride 'em cowboy!" Speedy shouted. "Yeeee-haaaa!"
"Oooh, I'm getting ready to come," Jack hissed at Sylvia.
"Not so fast. Please not now!"
"I can't hold back," he cried as his strokes grew heavier and erratic.
"No! No!"
"Come with me!" he begged
"God, I'll try!" she said as she closed her eyes and concentrated on whipping her own orgasm into high gear.
Jack's buttocks pumped up and down on her with huge motions. He was just a few jabs away from giving her his cum.
"Are you ready?" he gasped.
"Okay, now!" she called.
Jack made a few more harsh jabs and suddenly let the flow erupt. Sylvia had caught up with him and she writhed in the ecstasy of her own orgasm as Jack's semen poured into her clutching vagina.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she groaned as his rod shot into her.
Jack pounded viciously as his fluid gushed forth. She'd opened wider, letting every bit of his penis go into her as she came. Over and over again his round buttocks rose and slammed down again.
Her vagina was sloppy with his cum and her own juices. Jack suddenly felt the friction grow weaker as his cum lubricated her inner recesses. The faint tingling made by the walls of her vagina was almost gone now, and his penis seemed to be sliding in and out of a puddle of thick cream. He sloshed around inside her, giving her more and more of his hot wetness.
She came right along with him, easily matching his strokes with the snapping thrusts of her hips. She jerked up and down under him, bucking and writhing as he pounded and squirted.
"So gooooooood! she cried.
Jack's buttocks started to wind around and around as the last droplets of cream oozed into her vagina.
When it was over, he lay on top of her for a few moments, then rolled over. For the first time he realized that the whole room was filled with copulating, sucking, groping couples. He looked around and smiled when he saw what was going on. In every corner there were people taking their pleasures.
"You know what?" he asked.
"Huh?" Sylvia murmured.
"I think the party's started!"
She snickered and curled up next to him.
"Want me to lick your cock?" she asked.
"Sure."
Sylvia got down and put his slimy penis into her mouth. It was covered with a thick coating of cum and her own juices. She sucked and licked him, tasting her own liquids as she did so. Her lips worked and her tongue licked and massaged his meat. When she'd cleaned him off with her mouth, she got back up next to him and spoke softly.
"Do you want to fuck again, or would you rather find someone else?"
"I really like the way you fuck, but I like to switch partners at parties. How about you?"
"Switching is fine. I like to try out a couple of men."
Jack got up and looked around the room. He saw another couple who'd just finished their first orgasm of the evening. He walked over to hem and said, "You two want to swap?"
"Sure," the man said.
"Oh, Jack! Sure, come on down and let me have some of your cock," the woman said.
In a few seconds Jack had settled in with a new partner, and Sylvia lay on the rug stroking her new lover's meat.
In another corner of the room, an exhausted fellow was just sitting in a chair watching another man copulate with his wife. He'd had a good session with another woman, and he'd decided to catch his breath and watch his wife enjoy herself.
She was flat on her back, legs wrapped around her partner's waist. Her eyes were closed and her mouth opened as he assaulted her vagina with his penis. Her husband really enjoyed watching other men do this to her. He really thought she was quite a sexy woman, and it was especially tantalizing to him to watch her "take cock" from another man. He watched on, studying her form as she let her partner plow his meat into her. Her husband looked at her meaty thighs, and traced the lines of her legs down around to the firm cheeks of her buttocks.
She really looked like she was enjoying herslf. The man on top of her grunted and groaned as he worked over her. Her full breasts were squeezed out to her sides by the man's weight, and her firm belly was undulating with heavily taken breaths.
Then she and her partner changed position, this time she was on top and squatting down onto his penis. She leaned forward and let the man continue to jam into her. This new position gave her husband an idea.
He got down onto the floor and looked up at her ass. He had a plain view of the man's prick going in and out of his wife's vagina. The rod was a fat one, one he knew she'd be enjoying. Her smooth cheeks were spread wide, showing him her hole as well as her gaping vagina.
The stiff rod went in and out of her, shiny from her ample vaginal juices. Her husband felt his penis getting harder and harder. He began masturbating as he watched the man's penis slithering into his wife.
They were really copulating now, going at it hard and fast. Her husband's hand fairly flew over his own body. He was trying to catch up so he could come when they did. He barely made it.
He saw their rhythm getting faster and heavier, then their voices told him that they were enjoying an orgasm. He stared at the genitals in front of him and masturbated frantically. Just as they ended their orgasm, he started his. Little globs of cum shot out of his penis head.
He'd watched other men copulate with his wife plenty of times, but he'd never really taken a good look at another man's penis actually sliding in and out of his wife's flesh. It was really exciting to get down and watch her "take cock."
He made a mental note to ask his wife to get on top like that more often. He knew she'd like to hear that he'd reached a climax by watching her sexual activities with another man. He'd tell her, and let her know that it excited him. She was a ready woman who loved him and would do anything to make him happy.
All around the room now men and women were lying next to each other. The first great wave of sexual pleasure had swept over them and they were resting a little. Some, however, took no rest and started their second performance without a pause. Some swapped partners, and others were content to sit back for a while, have a cigarette, and watch those who were still having fun.
Speedy had told the little blonde to get into the chair and throw her legs over the arms. She'd done this, scooting down so her vagina was right at the cushion's front edge. Speedy then knelt down in front of her and slipped his stiff penis into her.
He revelled in his sexual labor, and as he slowly plowed into her, he sang out an aria in a fine, though not quite professional, tenor. His head was thrown back in song as he humped the blonde's tightness. She giggled and laughed as Speedy's arms waved and moved in dramatic gestures to accompany his song.
"Hey, Speedy!" the hostess called out, "you auditioning for the Met?"
"The Met never had an act like this!" he answered.
Then he went back to singing and sex. The blonde was taking all of his penis, and despite the humor of his antics, she was getting ready to come.
"Speedy, baby, I'm going to come!" she said
I as she leaned back, closed her eyes and grabbed the cushion.
"Go ahead, my lovely child!" he said as he paused in his singing.
Those who were not busy, watched as Speedy's buttocks pumped his penis into her. He was the center of attention, and that suited him fine. The little blonde didn't care who was watching. All she cared about was getting more strokes of stiff manhood into her juicy depths.
"Oh, Speedy!" she groaned.
"Hang on baby, I'm going for the high note in a few seconds!"
The others laughed again and Speedy went back into his operatic tune. The flowing melody dipped, then arched into a thunderous high note which he pulled off quite well for an amateur. As he held the long, melodious note, he jabbed sharply into her flesh and his voice quivered with his sharp movements.
"You're making me come!" she shouted. "Speeeeeedy!!!"
He held the high note a little longer, then ended his singing spree with a sharp cut. When he'd ended his song, he made a few sharp jabs, and he, too, joined her in the frolicking orgasm.
From somewhere in the room, one of the revelers started to clap his hands, applauding the fine singing, and the orgasmic show now going on in front of them. The others quickly joined in and then some of them started to shout out cheers and bravos.
Speedy pumped his buttocks widly. He became a blur as the guests watched him and the blonde. She was screaming now, ablaze with the roaring sensations within her. Speedy's penis fairly flew in and out of her. It was no longer a series of strokes, but a constant sensation of movement.
His cum gushed into her, sending her into an even deeper orgasm. He was in earnest labor, giving her all he had. He loved being the center of attention, and this was his big chance. While the others applauded and cheered, he gave her a climax like she'd never had before.
Her fingers dug into the cushion and her toes curled and uncurled with tension as Speedy roared in and out of her slippery flesh.
He polished off the last of their orgasm with a few dramatic jabs. The guests clapped and cheered this finale. Then Speedy jumped to his feet, turned to the applauding people and took deep, gracious bows. He signaled to his partner to join him, but she waved him away with a limp hand.
"Bravo! Bravo!" a man's voice cried.
"Encore! More! More! Encore!" a woman shouted.
"Author!" cried one wag.
Speedy bowed again, and then pranced out of the room like a ballerina going off stage. He came back for a few curtain calls, then went to the bar for a drink. The applause subsided and others joined Speedy for a drink.
The exhausted little blonde still sat in the plush armchair, her legs thrown over the sides and her head leaning on one shoulder. She was totally exhausted and couldn't move.
One of the men looked at her dripping vagina and got a hard-on. Without even asking her if she wanted more, he got down onto his knees and slipped his penis into her. Her chasm was almost a puddle from the cum already in her, but the fellow didn't mind it in the least.
"Oh, God!" she whispered. "Are you going to fuck me?"
"I'm already fucking you," he said. "But you don't have to move. I'll get my rocks off in your cunt in just a little while. You just lie back and hold still. I'll do all the work. You don't have to come with me. All I want to do is use your pussy for a while."
"Okay, go ahead," she said closing her eyes. "As long as I don't have to do anything I guess it's okay if you just use my cunt for a while."
Speedy was walking back from the bar and he saw the second man dipping his penis into the blonde's vagina.
"I'm a tough act to follow," he said as he clapped the man on the shoulder in a spirit of helpful camaraderie.
"Not trying to match your act, Speedy. I just like to fuck women who don't move around very much. And she doesn't look like she could move if she wanted to."
"You got the right cunt if you want one that'll hold still for you. Nobody moves after I've given them the Speedy Special!"
The man turned his attention back to the job at hand. He was up on his knees, and he looked down and watched his penis going in and out of her depths. He saw the lips of her juicy flesh pull in and out with the pressure of his sliding phallus.
His penis was disappearing into her vaginal softness as she lay back with her legs thrown over the sides of the armchair. She had her eyes closed and she did not move as the man eased in and out of her.
He watched intently as his steel length went in and out. He was taking slow strokes, getting most of his pleasure from watching his own penis go in and out. The shaft of his thickness was wet from the sloshing juices within her.
Even though there was plenty of lubrication, she was still tight enough for him to get plenty of friction. Her fleshy thighs were open and he started to rub the yielding softness as he watched his lance slide in and out.
While he took his fill of her femininity, the others were either drinking, talking, or starting the second round of sexual pleasures. Pat was again going around the room talking openly to the men, but this time she was joined by Sandy.
The man heard snatches of conversation as he sweated over the petite blond. His tempo increased a little as the stimulation of her muscles on his penis as well as the sight of his rod entering her spread vagina had excited him and now he was pumping for the climax that was coming.
He looked up and saw that she was still sitting back with her eyes closed, apparently thinking about something else while he used her flesh. This was fine with him. In fact, he rather enjoyed it.
While her thoughts were a million miles away, he was dipping his swollen member into her yielding recesses.
Again he looked down and saw his penis entering her. The lips of her vagina were spread and juicy. This last look did it. He started to come in her pussy.
He squeezed the flesh of her thighs as he came. Still the exhausted girl did not move. He was splashing his liquid into her and she held perfectly still for him, just the way he wanted it.
She felt him coming, and had been aroused by his sexuality, but she knew that he wanted her to lie still, so she did this, letting his river of cum spurt into her womb.
The hostess was now going around the room with a large tray of elegant hors d'oeuvres. The guests, those who were not busily launched into the second round of sexual exploration, accepted these tasty treats with thanks.
Some of the couples stood around and chatted while others fucked or indulged in erotic fore-play. The atmosphere was loose and at ease.
"I gotta go," Speedy said in a loud voice.
The hostess was shocked and said, "Why?"
"'Cause nobody wants to fuck!"
"Speedy!" she said putting down the tray. "You can't go."
"Nobody wants my cock," he said.
"I'll show you how wrong you are. Sandy, would you pass around the hors d'oeuvres for me? I'm going to help Speedy feel at home."
She dropped to her knees and took his stiffness into her mouth. Speedy stood in front of her, a drink in one hand and hors d'oeuvres in the other and said, "That's more like it!"
CHAPTER FIVE
There has been much discussion about the influences various age groups have had on one another in the group sex phenomenon.
The pattern seems to have been one of a younger group, i.e. people in their late teens and early twenties, influencing the attitudes and outlooks of their elders. Along with the political and social upheaval of the 60's came a concurrent sexual revolution.
Young men and women fled from the binding structures of the culture they were born into and set out to construct one more suited to the realities of their lives. Communal living, and its logical counterpart, group sex, were a part of this revolution. Before long, talk of group sex became commonplace, much of it catching the interested ears of people older than the revolutionary youths.
It is interesting to note that group sex, among all the ideas and customs espoused by the psychedelic revolution, has been the only one to capture the imaginations of nearly all adult age groups. We might conclude from this that the desire to participate in group sex activities had lain dormant in the minds of the entire nation, and that the carefree spark of the young was all it took to ignite the fuel which had been waiting.
There had been one growing cult of group sex activity in this country prior to the 1960's, and this was the wife-swapping craze that hit the country in the 1950's. This custom is certainly a part of group sex as practiced today, but in the 1950's it usually took the form of the various couples meeting to decide who would have intercourse with whom, and then a parting so each couple could have sex in the dark privacy of separate bedrooms.
The group sex which is sweeping the nation today is one wherein the participants copulate openly, in full view of one another, and without shame or misgivings.
Communal living-again a rediscovery-has taken many forms in our country. Some groups band together out of economic necessity. Others join together and leave a city to establish agrarian communes. Even others are established because of some common interest such as political action. The reasons for formation of a communal living situation are quite varied, but with the free-thinking, revolutionary atmosphere that is common to most such units, one can usually count on some form of group sex being common.
The communes which have received, the greatest amount, of publicity, and indeed those which have captured the imagination of today's youth, are the agrarian communes. The members of these communes are city people who are usually in their twenties. They have been shocked and repelled by the ugliness, the hate, the danger, and the confusion found, in our cities. They have left to carve out a new, pastoral life style. Many of them are from wealthy families, yet they go to live a life in which they are minimal consumers, a life that gives them the simple needs of existence and little more.
The following case history gives us a glimpse at the attitudes which are found on such, a commune. From it we can see how the idea of group sex fits so easily into their lives.
CASE HISTORY
The New Dawn Commune had been spawned as an idea by a group of radical youths living in San Francisco. The promises of the drug culture had not been kept, nor had they seen much productive results from their political activities. Their lives had grown somehow empty of joy, and the daily living in the crowded city made them feel under constant oppression.
The cities, they said, were culturally bankrupt, sad vestiges of a dying capitalist system. They were alienated by everything they saw. There was nothing in the city that seemed to give meaning to their lives or which gave them a sense of personal worth.
It had been two years ago that they left the city in a caravan of trucks and buses, striking out to find something they were sure would give direction and fulfillment to their lives. It was a brave move, one that took the entirety of their personal resources.
After six weeks of wandering the caravan ground to a halt. Their goal, a few hundred acres of farmland, had been found deep in the Southwest.
The first year was hard. Many of them had never endured long hours of physical labor. They lived in teepees that first year, foraging and hunting for food as best they could. Crops were planted and work on the commune's living quarters begun.
They worked hard that year, tilling and building from sunrise to sunset, demanding the most from their bodies and minds. The young men and women worked side-by-side, sharing labor equally and always helping one another when needed.
The second year was easier, but by no means easy. They dug irrigation ditches, cleared land, and added new rooms to the adobe complex they lived in. Children were born, and young mothers nursed the hungry infants with their large breasts.
Just over forty had set out from San Francisco. Some had left, and a few more had joined them. They were, for the most part, the same adventurous young men and women who had struck out on their own, leaving everything familiar to them and armed only with their enthusiasm and dedication.
It was spring, the very beginning of the third year. They had plowed their furrows and were in the fields planting. Sheila, a strong, high-cheeked girl knelt in the field, a pouch of seeds draped over her shoulder. She carefully dropped them into evenly spaced holes and covered them with dirt.
From New York originally, Sheila had migrated to San Francisco when the cult of hip arose to shake the youth of America out of the doldroms it had known in the 50's. She was the daughter of an immensely wealthy corporate attorney. Her parents had lavished gifts, clothing and cars on her, but little else. There was a gnawing emptiness in her life that had been filled only since her arrival at New Dawn.
She'd grown strong over the past two years. The physical demands of living on the commune had leaned out her frame, ridding her of the baby fat that had hung around her for too many years. Her skin was tanned and fresh looking. Her long black hair hung in braids and her braless breasts bulged and rolled against her blue shirt.
"How's it going?" a strapping young man asked.
"Oh, hi, Chico," she said, squinting against the sun.
Standing next to her was Chico O'Brien, a muscular, lean young man born to an Irish father and Chicano mother. His mother's dark features dominated Chico's features everywhere except in his eyes. There he had two bright emerald green eyes that always seemed to be on the verge of laughter. He was tall and angular. His shoulder-length hair was tied behind his head with a strip of leather. Naked from the waist up, he stood over Sheila and smiled down at her as they spoke.
"What're you planting here?" he asked.
"Chick peas. We're going to need lots of them."
"You want some help?"
"Sure."
Chico got down and started planting the next furrow.
"Did you hear about Jesus Joe?"
"No, what's he doing?"
Jesus Joe was a fellow who lived near the commune. He'd surrounded himself with a group of lost youngsters who believed that he spoke for God, and was their salvation.
"You know this trip he's been on about graven images?" Chico asked.
"Yah, he's really down on them."
"It got worse. After a while he wouldn't let and the kids staying with him keep photographs."
"Maybe that's a graven image, too," Sheila said as she popped a seed into a hole.
"Maybe, but he got really heavy about it. The other day he almost killed himself. He was driving the pickup truck and closed his eyes going past a Coca-Cola billboard. Said it was a graven image."
"Oh, wow!"
"But then yesterday he came home and started tearing all the labels off. the canned goods because the pictures were graven images. Now they don't know what's in the cans."
"What happened then?"
"Some of his Jesus freaks got together and decided maybe he needed to get some help."
"So what happened?"
"Oh, the doctors say he'll be okay in a couple of months. Seems he flips out regularly and they have a big file on him at the funny farm."
"Far fucking out!" Sheila said.
They worked in silence for a while, then the serenity of the fields was broken by a loud metallic clanging.
"Is it time for supper already?" Sheila asked.
"Yeah. Come on," Chico said, standing and stretching.
Their co-workers stood and started to walk toward the adobe compound. Shovels were cleaned and leaned against walls and the conversation picked up as they all made their way to the large, circular room which served as their communal dining room and meeting place.
They met in the circle and held hands. One of them offered a simple prayer and then said, "Let's eat!"
They lined up and filled their plates with lots of good food and went back to the circle, or went outside to watch the setting sun as they ate.
Sheila and Chico sat outside and they were soon joined by The Dutchman. The Dutchman sat down next to them, almost spilling his plate of food in the process. He was a bearded blond who, though thin, was on the muscular side.
"How's it going, Chico?" he asked in a surprisingly high voice. It seemed the sort of voice which, once awakened in song, might do a good job with "Danny Boy."
"Nothing wrong a little wine or some good grass wouldn't take care of," Chico answered. "I didn't see you around today. Where were you?"
"Crazy Stan and I were making a good run."
"Where'd you go?"
"Out to the mesa. We got some good pinon and a little cedar for the kitchen."
"How was Crazy Stan?"
"Not too bad. He kept to himself most of the time."
"Did he yell at you?"
"Naw, he doesn't yell at me very much. I guess I'm about the only person he can go on a wood run with and not start yelling."
"How come?"
"Guess it's because he knows I'll knock him on his ass if he starts laying any of his paranoid trips on me," The Dutchman said as he scooped up a forkful of rice.
"You're a violence freak," Sheila said.
"No, I'm not. I just don't dig getting heavy vibes laid on me by some cat who isn't together."
They ate in silence and watched the sun sliding lower and lower on the horizon. It was a soft orange disc now, splashing rays of light on the clouds.
When they were finished, The Dutchman said, "Hey, we stopped at the gas station and I met some freaks who laid some grass on me. Want to go do a couple of numbers?"
"Dutchman, you're a man after my own heart. To show you how much I appreciate it, I'll share my wine with you," Chico said., "There's gonna be a party," The Dutchman sang as he got to his feet. "How about you, Sheila, want to go do a couple with us?"
"Sure."
The three went to the kitchen and washed and stacked their plates. They went to The Dutchman's simple room. He'd built it himself, a small, yet cozy little room which was part of the commune's growing complex of quarters.
It was getting darker now, and The Dutchman lit a kerosene lamp. In a little while it would start to get chilly and a fire would join the lamp in giving light, but for now the only light was the darkening sky through the small windows and the lamp.
"Go get your wine, Chico," The Dutchman said.
"For sure. I'm going to bring Helene back. I promised her I'd ball her tonight."
Chico left the room and got his wine as well as Helene. She was a tiny little brunette whose stiff posture seemed to be a way of stretching out the last inch of height from her small frame. Though short and small-boned, she was well endowed.
When they got back to The Dutchman's room, Sheila had already rolled the joints of marijuana. She had great hands, and her joints were almost as smooth as factory-made cigarettes.
The Dutchman looked at the half-gallon of wine and smiled. There was a picture of an old gentleman on the label who'd obviously been one of his wine's greatest enthusiasts. The old gentleman's name was held in great reverence around the commune, and his family's product touted as the greatest cheap wine ever squeezed from a grape.
"Ah, the Papa!" The Dutchman cried as he eyed the label.
"Nothing but the best for my friends," Chico said as he cranked off the cap with a flourish.
The two girls watched as the men drank. The bottle was passed to them, and the girls joined the fellows with great gulps of the smooth vino.
"Light up a number," Sheila insisted.
Chico did the honors, lighting up a joint and taking a deep drag which he kept in his lungs as he passed it to Sheila. She followed Chico's lead, and, in turn, passed it to Helene.
The distinctive aroma of the marijuana soon filled the tiny room as the joint was passed from hand to hand. All four were taking huge hits on the smoldering joint, filling their lungs with the potent smoke.
They washed their throats with more swigs from Papa's wine.
"Uh, this is some good shit!" Chico said as the grass started to take hold.
"You stoned already?" Sheila asked.
"Getting there," Chico answered.
"Mellloowww!" The Dutchman said as he leaned back and blew out the smoke that had been hovering in his lungs.
"How come you guys are...." Helene said.
"Are what?"
"I didn't say anything," she said. "Wait a minute! Yes I did! Oh, shit! What was I say-ling?"
"You're zonked," The Dutchman said. "It's the wine."
"It's the grass."
"Dutchman, light a fire," Sheila said.
"No problem," he responded as he got up. He looked around the room, then lit a match. "Oh, no ... I got to put wood in the fireplace first." He blew out the match and stacked wood in the fireplace. Chico went to his aid, and together they somehow got the fire going.
The kindling blazed in a bright yellow flame, but soon died and the rich, constant heat of larger logs replaced it.
"You know what we need at New Dawn?" Chico said.
"What?"
"Ostriches."
"Huh?"
"Yah, ostriches are groovy. You can ride them like horses, you can make out-of-sight things with their feathers, and, man, just a couple of eggs and you'd have breakfast for everyone!"
"Makes sense," Sheila said. "We got to see about getting some ostriches up here."
"Good idea."
The room lapsed into silence again as they pondered the great insight Chico had just shared with them. The fire crackled and glowed. The lamp cast a soft light, and they were filled with a rich sense of well-being.
"Hey, Chico," Helene said. "Are you going to ball me tonight?"
"For sure."
"Okay, just don't get Joo drunk or you'll change your mind."
"I won't change my mind."
"Do ostriches eat pheasants?" The Dutchman asked.
"Huh?"
"Well I was thinking maybe some pheasant! would be cool. I dig the way they fan out their tails. But it wouldn't be cool if ostriches eat pheasants."
"You mean peacocks."
"Yah, peacocks! Do ostriches eat peacocks?"
No one knew, so they filed this important question away for later consideration.
"Chico, are you sure you're going to ball me?" Helene asked.
"Don't worry about it."
"I'm going to take my clothes off so I'll be ready when you want to ball," Helene said.
She stood up and took her clothing off, revealing her charms. Her body was elegantly proportioned, though short, not an inch over five-feet tall. She still wore a bandana around her hair, and a beaded necklace and a silver bracelet decorated her smooth young flesh.
"We can ball any time you're ready," she said as she looked at Chico.
"Hey, Chico," The Dutchman said, "why don't you ball the chick and get it over with? I hate to have details like that hanging around. It's too much like the city to have appointments and things you're thinking about doing."
Chico thought about it and said, "You fucker, you just want me to ball her so you two can smoke all the dope and drink all the wine while I'm doing it."
"Man, you always get paranoid on grass. How come?"
"Shit, I don't know," Chico said with a grin. "Ball her."
Chico thought about it and said, "Okay, but only if you two ball at the same time."
"How about it?" The Dutchman said as he turned to Sheila.
"Sure."
Chico, The Dutchman and Sheila got up and started to disrobe. Helene sat in the chair and grinned from ear to ear as she watched Chico getting ready to fuck her. In a few seconds they were all naked.
"How in the fuck are all of us going to fit in that small bed?" Chico asked.
"Let me take care of this," The Dutchman answered. "Okay, girls, get down on the bed side-by-side."
The girls giggled a little and did as they were told.
"Now spread your legs."
Again they obeyed.
"See, Chico, all we gotta do is get on top of them and slip our cocks in."
"I'm an ostrich," Chico said.
"Huh?"
"I like to stick my head in a hole!" he said as he got down and started to lick Helene's pussy.
She started to squirm around on the bed as Chico's tongue flashed around the lips of her: cunt.
"You an ostrich?" Sheila asked. The Dutchman looked down at her spread legs and said, "I'm a double ostrich."
"What do you mean?"
"I like to stick my head and my cock in' holes!"
He got down on top of Sheila so his penis was pointing down at her mouth and his face was' just inches away from her furry crotch. He felt her hand squeezing his rod, and he lowered himself down, putting his kissing lips against hen crotch.
They were squeezed tightly on the narrow bed, Chico eating out Helene's vagina, and The Dutchman and Sheila doing it sixty-nine right next to them. The sound of the crackling fire was joined by the heavy sound of sucking and licking mouths.
They were so close to each other that they rubbed against each other as their mouths went to work.
"Chico, turn around so I can suck you off," Helene said.
He got up and climbed clumsily onto the bed. He and Helene started doing it sixty-nine right next to The Dutchman and Sheila, who were doing the same.
It was The Dutchman who first turned around and got on top of his woman and started to fornicate. While Chico and Helene still ate each other, The Dutchman and Sheila were pressed next to them immersed intently in their love-making.
Sheila had to spread her legs a little more, and her thigh was pressed against Chico as he ate Helene's vagina. He felt the smooth skin of her thigh rubbing against his side. Her groans of pleasure made him think that it was high time he stopped eating Helene and started giving her some old-fashioned lovemaking.
He lifted his working mouth and got off, letting his penis pop out of her sucking lips. He made his way around, and got on top of her, guiding his firm shaft into the pocket of her wet aromatic crotch flesh.
Helene had a tight little vagina and Chico had to push several times before the head of his large penis split her lips and poked into the dark cavern. He jabbed in straight as an arrow.
While The Dutchman and Sheila thrashed feverishly next to them, Chico and Helene were just starting to experience the thrills of open sex. His rod was in her now, hard and swollen. She moved her tight little buttocks a bit, adjusting her vagina so it would be at just the right angle to receive his penetrations.
Chico stirred her channel a little as The Dutchman and Sheila frolicked at full throttle! next to them. When he was good and ready he started to send his penis in and out of Helene's tight chasm.
She loosened up just a little, and the motion! of his penis had smeared her juices around so his staff went in and out without trouble. She squirmed under him and held him close with her arms.
Chico felt her fingernails digging lightly into his back. She was getting aroused and he knew that she was really enjoying this. She'd been hot to have some of his penis for a couple of days now. They'd had sex many times before, but this time she really seemed to be ready for his action.
He plowed into her tight depths with growing firmness. His swollen penis was spreading her wide, and she called out her approval of this gratifying sensation.
"Oh, Chico! Chico, baby!"
Next to them The Dutchman and Sheila were! in a whirl of sexual expression. She'd wrapped! her legs around him and locked them at the ankles. Her vagina was a totally vulnerable target for the jabbing penetrations of his stiff phallus.
The Dutchman and Sheila were wrapped in a long, passionate kiss as they thrashed about in sexual abandon.
The Dutchman's mouth was locked against Sheila's and their tongues wrapped and entwined as his penis pounded into her spread flesh. He was going to blow his cream into her any second and his kiss grew harder. He pressed down on her lips with his and flipped his tongue around the inside of her mouth.
The small bed rattled and groaned as the two couples fornicated, each with their own idea of what the perfect rhythm was. Chico's strokes were fast and sharp, while The Dutchman's were long, hard jabs that took a somewhat slower pace.
Together the four of them meshed together with total abandon. They rubbed and jostled against one another on the small bed, and each could hear the harsh breathing of the others.
It was The Dutchman who first released his seed. The bed suddenly convulsed as his buttocks bore down on Sheila's crotch. She still had her legs wrapped high around him, and now she pulled him into her with her legs, helping him make hard, surging strokes. She felt him spewing his cum into her vagina and she came along with him.
Chico and Helene heard the ruckus next to them and it excited them to the edge of their own climax. The Dutchman had just finished spilling his semen into Sheila's tunnel when Chico's strokes changed in rhythm and his breath came in heavy bursts.
The Dutchman lay on top of Sheila, stirring her vagina with his satisfied rod while Chico and Helene worked to achieve their own climax. It came in a few seconds.
The tiny girl under Chico's weight started to buck up and down, showing surprising strength for a girl her size. She flipped her hips up and down as he came in her cushiony depths. She cried in glee as he splashed into her tight love opening.
At last they'd all had a good climax. Chico lay on top of Helene while The Dutchman got up and took a swig of Papa's wine. He brought the bottle back to the bed and handed it to Sheila who took a drink and passed it on to Chico and Helene.
When they'd all gotten their wind back, they sat up and had another joint of the good marijuana. The half-gallon bottle of wine was over half-empty now, and the room was once again filled with the distinctive odor of grass.
"You happy now?" Chico asked Helene.
"For sure."
"I'm still horny," The Dutchman said.
"Hell, you were the one who had to be talked into fucking."
"I don't give a shit, I'm still horny."
"Do you want to fuck me again?" Shiela asked.
"I could dig it, but I could really dig fucking Helene. How about it?"
Helene looked at him and said, "Sure."
Chico and Sheila moved off the bed and let The Dutchman and tiny Helene have a go at it on their own.
"Get up on your knees," The Dutchman said. "I want to fuck you dog fashion."
Helene shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of cooperative compliance and got up on her hands and knees on the bed and spread her legs just a bit. The Dutchman got on the bed and approached her from behind.
His firm penis led the way as he inched toward her vagina. Helene just knelt on her hands and knees, her head bowed low and her buttocks sticking high into the air as she waited for the feel of The Dutchman's rod against the lips of her downy flesh.
She felt him arrive as the head of his thick penis pressed against her warmth. She arched her back a little to give him an easier entrance, then she dug her hands into the bed and braced herself for his shove.
He started to press his staff into her, sliding it a little way into her softness. She helped by backing up and leaning into his penis. She knew that she was tight, and that it sometimes took a couple of good shoves to get a man's stiff shaft into her. She was a good partner. She always wanted to do her share to make it a really good time. Now she was exhibiting this admirable trait by grinding her buttocks around and around while The Dutchman kept up the pressure.
The movements of her round little cheeks combined with his pressure, slowly worked his rod into her wet mass. She sucked in a sharp, hissing breath as his meat broke through the tight entrance and oozed into her moist vagina.
"Unnnghhh!" she moaned as he slipped into her tight chasm.
She felt his thighs against the back of hers, and the pressure of his abdomen against her buttocks as he ran his steel rod all the way into her.
The Dutchman reached around in front and grabbed both her full breasts. They were hanging down, drooping under her as he cupped them. He started to squeeze them as he ran his penis in and out of her fleshy depths.
Chico and Sheila watched with interest as the rhythm grew into a long series of honest shoves that pushed his full rod into her clutching vagina.
She was braced hard on the bed, the heels of her hands digging into the bed to keep her from being shoved face first by his strong thrusts. Her back swayed nicely and the round little cheeks of her shapely buttocks were poised high in the air as The Dutchman walloped her with his penis. Her head was down low and her breath came in great sucks as The Dutchman let her have it. His hands were still holding her ample breasts as he banged his solid staff into her.
Chico's penis was getting hard as he watched the action on the bed. Sheila was watching too, and she seemed to be getting excited by it all.
"You want to get it on?" Chico asked Sheila.
"Sure."
"Let's wait until they finish so we can use the bed."
Sheila smiled and nodded. Then she reached out and wrapped her hand around Chico's growing lance. They turned their attention back to The Dutchman and Helene.
The two on the bed were going at it full tilt now. Helene's little buttocks flew around and around and The Dutchman's penis sailed through the clinging tube of her wet tunnel. He was starting to grunt and heave as the pleasure of her tight vagina started to whip up a feeling of imminent orgasm.
"I'm going to come any second now," The Dutchman warned.
"I'm ready!" Helene called back.
She lifted her head and arched her back a little more as she waited for him to spill his juices into her waiting cup. She was really trying her best to help him. She wanted to have a good orgasm, and she was going to join him with her own just as soon as his strokes told her that he was about to release his cum into her.
Without warning he let loose of her breasts and put his hands on her waist and started to pull her into him as he shot his shaft into her yielding flesh. Helene realized that this was it. This was the moment of orgasm and she snapped her little buttocks around and around, adding as much friction as she could to The Dutchman's strokes.
"Baby, I'm almost there!" he called.
"Go ahead! I'm right with you!!"
The Dutchman really let loose when he heard this. She was on the verge and so was he. In a few more giant shoves they'd be coming together, two young people sharing the glories of a wild orgasm while friends watched on.
Chico and Sheila were impatient to begin their lovemaking as they waited for the bed to be vacated, but not so much in a hurry that they did not enjoy the sight of the lovemaking going on in front of them. They were both well stimulated by the sight of the gratifying action that was taking place a few feet away from them. What a beating The Dutchman was giving Helene's vagina! His buttocks bore down with wicked snaps that must have hurt the tiny girl who stoutly braced herself against the force of his mighty shoves.
The Dutchman started to come. Chico and Sheila watched with staring eyes as he let loose a flood of semen into Helen's tight depths. They watched intently as she writhed and moved, joining with her own climax. Her vital little buttocks flew around and around as The Dutchman filled her vagina with his thick white cream.
Sheila was so excited that she just had to do something. She moved over and put her mouth around Chico's penis. He was surprised by the sudden hot suction on his staff. He looked down to see Sheila's head bobbing up and down in his lap. She was taking his stiff rod into her mouth and loving it. Chico let her taste his steel flesh. It felt good and it gave him a little something extra to excite him while he watched The Dutchman spill his cum into Helene's vagina.
The Dutchman's orgasm was ebbing now, slowly unwinding into spasms that were further and further apart. His strokes were slower now, not quite as harsh as those which had led up to the start of his immense climax.
Sheila held Chico's penis in her mouth. It was so good to suck on it. Her eyes were closed and all she was aware of was the feeling of the soft bulbous head of his staff in her mouth. The thick head caressed her tongue and the hard shaft resisted the pressure of her clenched lips. Her jaws were spread wide open as she sucked him off. She ran her tongue over the head of his penis and felt him move a little in response. She loved the taste of him. Let him watch what was happening on the bed, she'd have fun sucking his rod. It would make him good and ready for her hungry vagina when they finally got on the bed. Besides, she liked it so much that she'd have willingly foregone having coitus just to have some more time to suck. She didn't care if he blew his cream into her mouth. That was fine with her. It was as though the member in her mouth was the only thing in the universe. Her mouth and his fat penis. Together.
The Dutchman and Helene had finished off their joyous bout and were standing arm in arm next to the bed.
"Come on," Chico said as he lifted her mouth off his penis.
She seemed a little disappointed that she couldn't suck him anymore, but it was okay either way.
She got down onto the bed and spread her legs and watched Chico kneel in front of her. He eased down onto her and she reached down and guided his penis into her. He shoved as he got down on her. His rod went in easily. She was dripping with excitement, and his staff met a puddle of natural juices.
She smiled and closed her eyes as Chico's penis went into her vagina. He started to dip his lance into her with even, well-measured strokes.
The Dutchman and Helene now watched. They sipped from the wine bottle, but observed the proper protocol by not lighting up another joint. They'd wait until their friends were through making love before another strong joint was lit.
Chico's buttocks went up and down and Sheila's spread legs moved wider. A few more strokes and she brought her knees up. Then it was not long before she wrapped her nice legs around Chico's waist and started to bounce her up and down in unison with his firm jabs.
The Dutchman and Helene were more than satisfied. They'd filled their need for sex, but they were not disinterested in what they were watching. Even though they'd made love twice they still enjoyed the show.
Helene grinned a little as Chico started to stir Sheila's tunnel with his rod. He kept it in all the way and wound around and around. Sheila's thighs were squeezing Chico, pressing him tighter and tighter. The fleshy thighs bulged and moved as she kept her legs wrapped around him and tensed her muscles with each of his strokes.
"Chico, baby, you feel so good," Sheila murmured.
"Love your pussy," he whispered. "Please, a little faster. Make it hurt!" she begged.
He complied with eagerness. His buttocks started to go in and out at a much faster pace. His penis was slamming into her and her legs squeezed him even tighter. Now it was really feeling good.
Her eyes were closed and she concentrated on the feeling of his rod sliding into her flesh. Her clitoris tingled with each of his strokes. Her vagina, spread wide by his fat penis was getting a good workout now.
The first love session and the taste of Chico's rod a little earlier had her good and excited. She started to come while Chico was still a long way from releasing his cum. She started to howl and moan as he went into her. She came over and over again.
She kept coming and coming as Chico's penis split the lips of her vagina. In and out it ran, sloshing into her wetness, then retreating, then returning.
"Aaahhh. Ohhh!" she cried. "Hurry, baby! Please come with me!"
Chico knew that she was coming and that she would continue to do so until he joined her in the final explosion of a united orgasm. He bore down, hurrying his pace with moving around to get the head of his stiff rod rubbing along the walls of her pulsing flesh.
This felt better and he kept it up. His staff started to tingle with excitement. Just a few more strokes now. Sheila wailed and cried under him, her meaty legs pulled him in as fast as they could.
The bed creaked and moaned as Chico's movements grew more violent. He was pumping hard and fast. His breath roared from him and sweat covered his body. Sheila rubbed his back, sliding her hands along the film of sweat swirling it around.
"Please, come!" she begged.
Her head was snapping from side to side now. She'd been coming for a long time and couldn't stop begging for Chico to join her. She was beside herself with excitement as orgasm after orgasm shot through her. She didn't know if she could keep it up until Chico came. She prayed that he would hurry and spill his cum into her before the wonderful excitement escaped her.
"Almost there!" Chico said as he felt his penis tingling and a familiar buzzing start in his testicles.
"Yes! Please do it!" she moaned.
The Dutchman and Helene watched in fascination as Chico's buttocks finally pumped out the erratic rhythm and heavy shoves that signaled the arrival of his climax.
Sheila went wild. She'd made it with him. She was still coming when he started. This helped her renew her orgasm and the two of them writhed and convulsed on the bed as the grip of pleasure took hold of their bodies.
Chico really let her have it, dumping a full load of frantic sperm into her gaping vaginal abyss.
The Dutchman and Helene passed the wine between themselves as Chico and Sheila slowed down. It had been a grand show!
When it was over, Chico and Shiela lay on the bed, unable to move. They were handed a burning joint and they both took deep, satisfying drags.
"Wonder what all those poor fuckers in the city are doing tonight?" Chico mumbled as he let out the acrid smoke.
CHAPTER SIX
CASE HISTORY
A man recently admitted that he liked sex with his wife and her lesbian girlfriend. "I stripped myself naked and joined in on the activities, and neither of the girls seemed to mind."
The wife said proudly, "I can climax easily. I mean, like when I'm going down on a fellow."
Most people seek sexual fulfillment, and today's mate-swapping swingers try many methods to reach the realms of exotic sexual satisfaction. One man freely admitted to a particular interest in training his wife in animal relationships. A wife confessed, "I like to put my hands on a big one. I like men with big cocks!"
One husband told his wife, "I want to watch you and Melvin do it together." He didn't mind that the head between his wife's thighs belonged to his friend.
The Stanleys, a rich, middle-aged couple, recently hired a new maid and chauffeur. Said the maid, a voluptuous, young thing, "I spent that first night in their bedroom. Don, the new chauffeur, was there, too. I sucked him while the Stanleys watched. Then, I sucked old man Stanley, while Don fucked me. Mrs. Stanley and I did some girl-to-girl stuff, if you know what I mean. Then I had old Stanley inside me, while his wife watched. We just kept popping one time after the other, all night long. Don taught me how to blow him hard, and to put my fingers on the base of his cock as it slid back from my vagina during intercourse. The feel of a wet, hard penis on my fingers was a thrill!"
Mrs. Stanley took to Don. She was an older woman who liked sex with young stuff. She was an experienced, sex-hungry woman who liked to feed her lusts from the bodies of younger men. She confessed, "I enjoy it most when I'm making it with boys. It's marvelous to feel a hard, young peter working inside you. And Don's a truly good tongue and finger expert."
The maid continued, "I straddled old Stanley, almost screaming in joy as his big cock entered me to the hilt. I luxuriated in the slow rhythm as I moved my loins above him, crying out in lust as I felt the head of his cock stab deep within me. When I could stand it no longer, I got off him. I turned around and grabbed his peter and began rubbing its head against my belly. He caught one of my tits between his lips and sucked it-"
After that, old Stanley sucked her, sucked deeply at her clitoris, moving his strong lips back and forth. She clutched his head and pushed his nose deeper into her nest. His swift tongue wouldn't, or couldn't, stop.
Quite out of control, he licked the dripping wetness of her. His tongue kept pushing deeper and deeper. She arched back and begged, "Make me come! Oh, make me come!"
His tongue was again on her clitoris, and she doubled up in her ecstasy. "Now, screw me!" she cried. "Screw me in the ass-any place!"
They fell to the floor and did it dog style. Neither of them missed a stroke as they churned together in ecstasy until the wild, explosive climax came.
The maid confessed, "I like my partner to start slow with his mouth on my genitals until I reach a few orgasms. Then, when he enters me, it becomes quite explosive, and I get full of love juices which flow out of me."
That first night of sex ended with old Stanley rubbing oil all over the maid's body. Then they had intercourse again, and the maid declared it was sensational. "Don held my arms and legs, while Mrs. Stanley applied a vibrator to my ass. I am told I screamed in ecstasy. Old Stanley kissed me and continued fucking until my vagina was mushy and white with foam."
The Judsons and the Ballards got together one night. Marge Judson was aroused by watching her husband and Selma Ballard get together. "We were all naked in the bedroom," she started out. "John laid his head on Selma's leg and began to work on her, kissing and sucking. She took his big, stiff thing and put it into her mouth and began to suck it like it was a lollipop. I'd never done that, but I decided right then I'd try it soon."
Marge and Ben Ballard danced naked around the room, his erection pressing into her. Soon, he laid her on the floor, and she let him go the limit. After the first round, he led her into the bathroom, and they got under the shower. "I rubbed lather into the hair on his belly and held his penis tight, working on its head. Then he put it in me, and it felt good-good!" she exclaimed. "Then he bent down and began kissing me on my vulva, using his tongue. He darted it in and out, and then began to suck me. Later, he screwed me again. And then my husband fucked me, and I must have come a dozen times."
Thus read the revelations of men and women who perform frenzied acts of sex with more than one partner. Oral sex, and sex, everything goes in these group orgies. Everything from subtle variations to advanced techniques are tried. One man says of his wife, "She doesn't dislike the taste of semen and describes it as thick and warm. She'll take a deep breath and force my penis down her throat. She'll have me coming in about thirty strokes."
A friend describes his experience with the above man's wife: "Her clit throbbed in response as I enclosed it with my lips. For a short time, I did nothing more than suck it gently. And then, she simply went wild!"
He further explained that later, she got him on his belly and licked around his asshole. "A sensitive person goes absolutely crazy!" he exclaimed.
Nelda Heffner let her young husband talk her into attending a swap party. It was her first time, of course, and she didn't know what to do or how to do it. She'd never been screwed by anybody but her husband, Clyde. She'd never even before had another man's penis in her hand, much less in her mouth. When Bob Sanders, her partner, got her off in a dark bedroom, she was frightened. She told him she really wanted to participate, but didn't know how. He was patient and understanding. He got her on the bed and started necking. They had their clothes on, so he told her to unzip his pants and take his penis out. She did, and it was hard and sort of moist because they were both excited. It was about the size of her husband, Clyde's, and that one point of familiarity gave her courage. When Bob told her to take it in her mouth, she was afraid it would make her sick, repel her, that its odor would make her gag.
It didn't, and she learned that evening that going down on a man could give both parties worlds of pleasure.
Pretty Jen Ross, who is possessed of a sleekly rounded body and gorgeous eyes, considers herself a lucky girl, especially at swap parties.
But she's lucky in an odd way.
"I'm a good luck charm, a regular rabbit's foot, for the man who chooses me," she said recently. "But I'm the unluckiest girl in the world when it comes to myself."
She explained that if she was hot to pop, she'd draw a guy who'd take hours to get his rocks off. If she wore a new dress, she'd be sure to get come sprayed all over it.
"On the other hand, if we venture from the house, my date's sure to run into good luck. Once, we went to the racetrack, and my partner hit the Daily Double!
"And just last week, a fellow took me to an expensive restaurant and didn't have to pay a cent. It turned out we were the hundredth-thousandth couple to enter the place, and everything was on the house.
"I was happy for him, but it didn't do a bit of good. He was a lousy lay.
"I'm to be paired off with a handsome guy tonight, and my husband says he's got a cock like an over-sexed donkey. But I'm afraid he'll turn out to have less than a year-old baby boy. That's the way my luck turns out!"
A recent new Gallup survey discloses some startling facts about husbands and wives, about their attitudes toward each other. Just how do American women feel about the men they married? Have their husbands lived up to expectations? And how do American men feel about the women they married? Were their hopes justified?
These questions have been explored in a nationwide survey made by the Gallup organization. Both men and women were interviewed and asked to tell in their own words where their marriage succeeded, where it failed or was disappointing, and how they felt their mates had let them down.
Some facts are reassuring, especially to the women. Nine out often American husbands said they would marry the same girl if they had to choose all over again.
But the women told a slightly different story. Twenty-five percent of them would look for another husband if they were starting out again.
Why are wives less satisfied with their marriages than husbands are?
The answers probably are many. Women seem to be more eager to please, and they work harder than men to win a mate, hold him, and make him happy. Do they succeed, then, at the cost of making their husbands more pleased with them than they are with their mates? Or are husbands less aware of the human needs at home, too taken up with the outside demands of their occupations or professions?
The Gallup report delved into all these aspects of marriage success and failure.
Only fifty-eight percent of the wives felt that their husbands lived up to their social expectations. "He's a party pooper! He never wants to go anywhere!" was the common cry.
"He's overly concerned with business, and I have to force social life on him," the wife of a banker, married fifteen years, complained. "He goes fishing and hunting often and leaves me home with the children. We don't go out together much anymore."
Another wife complained, "My husband thinks it's extravagant to go out now and then for a meal."
But eighty-two percent of these wives found their mates faithful and devoted. Eighty-eight percent were satisfied with their husband's appearance, or, at least, were not critical of it.
"I'm hard to get along with at times, but my husband's always patient with me," the wife of an executive in Kansas City said.
A few wives found no fault at all with their mates. One wife said, "My husband's a wonderful man and lover. I consider myself the luckiest woman I know. He's a good father to our two children."
"I love my husband. He's everything I could want," another woman declared. "Good father, good husband, good worker. He's handsome and intelligent, and I love him more now than I did the day I married him."
One wife said weepily, "The days my husband is away are blank days, and nothing is much fun if he's not along."
An accountant's wife in Indiana, married sixteen years, was less flattering about her mate. "He's become too fat and sloppy," she complained. "Nothing I say about his weight seems to bother him."
One-third of the wives interviewed felt a lack of mutual interests and shared attitudes in their marriages. One wife said her husband felt that sex was the most important relationship, and the only necessary one between husband and wife. "He has not developed a need for companionship," she sighed. "The only time we share anything in common is when we go to bed."
The wife of a decorator in St. Louis complained that her husband enjoyed a way of life and a circle of friends completely different from hers. "I have to make the adjustments all of the time!"
Twenty-nine percent of the wives said their husbands didn't carry their share in dealing with the children. "I wish Bert would spend a little less time and energy on his work and a little more on understanding and helping our children," a minister's wife complained. "He doesn't even understand how children can be selfish and cruel in normal, pardonable ways."
One-fourth of the women claimed that their husbands weren't as bright and alert as they should be. A few said their husbands hadn't lived up to their expectations as a wage earner, but the most said they were satisfied with their station in life, their financial situation.
When husbands were asked questions similar to those answered by their wives, the responses were often quite different. Most of them stated that their wives answered their social needs. A few, however, were dissatisfied, and were vocal about it.
"My wife's a loner. She doesn't like to entertain, and she doesn't care for country club activities. She refuses to learn to play golf and cares nothing about going to dances or nightclubs."
Ninety-four percent of the husbands said their wives lived up to their expectations in looks, and almost as many acknowledged their wives' devotion. "She's wonderful to me in every respect. And she's a loving and devoted mother. No one else would have tolerated all my faults over the years," said the manager of an appliance store, married twenty-four years.
Eighty-six percent of the husbands expressed satisfaction with their sex lives. (Only sixty-nine percent of the women were satisfied sexually.) "Would you marry your wife again if you had it to do over?" the interviewer asked each man. Ninety percent of the husbands said yes. A few said yes, with reservations.
"I like a change now and then," one Texas businessman said. "Because I like sex with another woman doesn't mean I don't love my wife."
When asked what he'd think if his wife felt the same way, he studied the question a moment, then said, "Say, now, I've heard about those swinging swap parties, and they sound great! If I could only coax Julie to participate!"
Bob Griffin had a little different situation. His wife was enjoying extra-marital activities. How long, before he discovered it, he didn't know. He was thirty-six, and he'd recently become suspicious that his thirty-two-year-old wife was having an affair with a neighbor, Bill Boutz. One night, he climbed upon the roof of an adjoining building, adjusted his binoculars, and settled down to watch. He wasn't star-gazing.
His binoculars were trained on his neighbor's bedroom window.
In the bedroom, the lights were dim, but he saw his wife go into the bathroom, then come back naked. Bill Boutz was undressing in the bedroom.
Bob's wife got on the bed and lay on her side. Bill Boutz went in from the back, and she drew her legs up into almost a fetal position. She raised her right leg and swung it up and out into a wide vee.
Boutz's hand found her breasts. He held them tight and drove his cock deep into her. He moved his ass, then increased his tempo. He must have been short-triggered, for he evidently came in a few seconds, panting and snorting as he writhed and slammed against the girl's buttocks.
He withdrew abruptly, rolled over, and lay flat on his back. His flabby chest and belly heaved as he noisily gulped in lungfuls of air.
Suddenly, another woman entered the bedroom. Boutz's wife! Quickly, she got naked, fell upon Bob's wife, and began playing with her wet nest between her legs. She gripped both thighs and spread the girl's legs wide apart. Her hungry mouth came on target, and her lips sucked flesh. Bob's wife writhed.
Bob could stand it no longer. He got off the roof and hurried to his neighbor's house, entering without knocking. He hurried to the bedroom.
Boutz was still groaning, his cock hard. The two women were a mass of arms and legs, caught together in a web of pleasure. Bob caught Bill Boutz's hard pecker and squeezed, feeling his own organ grown hard as steel. It had been a long time since he'd had wild sex. He'd forgotten how intense he could get.
Boutz raised up and began nibbling his chest. He sucked Bob's nipples, then his head slid down until his lips reached the tilted erection. He gobbled like a starved animal, while Bob writhed and quivered. Desperately, he wanted to do the same for Bill, trade him thrill for thrill, but this was too good to break away from. Bill mouthed his hard erection, and pretty soon, Bob lost his load.
Now, the two women were relaxing in each other's arms. Bob rested a few minutes, then reached over and caressed the Boutz woman's ass, his stiff fingers probing her asshole. She groaned and rolled onto her back. Bob was on her in a second, sliding his hard cock against her slit, forcing entrance. He went in quick and deep, and she moaned in quick agony at the largeness of his meat. He fucked her in exquisite pleasure, and she fucked him back. It was wonderful, but it was soon over, and with a small, sucking sound, he pulled his cock from the woman's snatch.
He lay there, exhausted, and watched Bill Boutz stick it to his wife.
"You're fucking me where I itch!" his wife said to Bill.
"You're a wild one!" he answered.
"Shut up and fuck!" she ordered.
She was panting and thrusting up wickedly, clinging to Bill, moaning in genuine pleasure, moving sinuously.
He kissed her, and she rewarded him with renewed wiggling enticing him, stimulating him. Bob could tell that Bill was very excited. His face flushed, and his body was stiff. He jolted her with every stroke, hammering and bucking. She rode out the storm, then just sort of wilted.
Bill had given her a good fuck.
The two couples committed adultery twelve times in the next month.
CASE HISTORY
Suburbia has been called a fucking paradise. But here there is an outbreak of emotional ills among its many commuters and their families.
One attractive blonde mother said, "We're so insular. We're missing all the good things of life, the basics like exciting sex."
A neighbor added, "Everybody has firm ideas about who they like and who they should shun. We have parties and get-togethers to which all kinds of different people come. But I'm only happy when I'm in a group of people like myself."
Suburbia is well groomed, manicured, and expensive-and overtaxed. But something else is wrong with suburbia, too. People are in competition with their neighbors and themselves. They say they've moved out to the suburbs to make better lives for themselves, but they have to keep proving this by buying more and better cars, houses, and gadgets. As a result, they are constantly under a terrific strain.
And what's their release from strain? The answer will be obvious a little later.
One young psychiatrist put it this way: "I was amazed when I began practicing in suburbia at how much more opportunity there was for sexual encounters. With the husband away from home at work in a distinctly different place, suburban wives get involved in a lot more affairs than do their city sisters. Another possible reason for this is that in the city, people are apt to go to theaters, movies, and restaurants, whereas in suburbia it's more of a party and country-club life, with more opportunities for sexual affairs;"
And these affairs offer a release from strain. The doctor added, "I really was surprised when I first came here, at how easy it is to conduct an affair in suburbia."
According to our most recent census, suburbia accounts for two-thirds of the decade's twenty-eight-million-plus population increase. So sex, in and out of wedlock, is not a passive thing. Maybe the leafy dream of living on the outskirts of our central cities has turned into a nightmare.
And maybe not. There are many good things about suburbia as a way of life, though it is not all just one lovely, continuous picnic, as some believe. Suburbia has its problems, and they can be summed up in one graphic word: pressures.
The Journal of the American Medical Association recently stated that suburban people were far ahead in heart diseases, ulcers, and high blood pressure-all psychosomatic illnesses, tension diseases. Moreover, women had more of these illnesses than had men.
Further, it was learned that these illnesses revolved around two human preoccupations: love and money.
These, of course, are not suburban problems exclusively. But, in suburbia, they take on peculiarly local coloring, for they blend with another pressure which is uniquely suburban, conformity.
Take love and marriage, and one may see this tendency for the major pressures to interlock. Marriage in suburbia is subject to some very special strains, and experts agree that the heaviest strain, especially in the beginning, descends upon the wife. Wives have more responsibilities in the suburban community than their husbands. They must run their homes, see that their children get involved in certain activities, transport them to and from school, and somehow find friends in the community. All of this, of course, is much easier for the apartment dweller, who has doormen, elevator men, janitors and other servicemen to lift some of the burden. Men still spend a large part of their time working in a city environment.
The suburban housewife is probably separated from the support of her mother, who lives in another area. She is exiled from many of her childhood women friends. She is separated for the greater part of the day, and sometimes into the night, from her husband. Subconsciously, she feels he is in a different world. She either becomes jealous or resorts to self-pity for her own lonely, over-encumbered life. Or both.
This is the nub of suburbia's marital difficulties. The psychological separation creates an emotional gap between husband and wife which can lead to both bickering and extra marital adventures. Sex between partners goes stale. As one housewife put it, "Everything was all right, until the kids started to school. Then I got bored, and the merry-go-round began. I got out and around, and I heard other wives talk. And, after that, Bill and I just started fighting about everything."
One wife admitted she missed her city job and found her life lonely and boring, until she'd had an affair with the TV fix-it man. Another took on the electric meter reader man. Still another became so lonely and fed up with suburban life that she set fire to her home and caused several thousand dollars damage.
Myrtle Cleaver found another solution. She'd become lonely and bored, like all the rest, and sex between her and her husband had become something of a routine, though she still loved Gus. There were many outstanding things about him, and though sex wasn't very thrilling of late, she had sense enough to know it was as much her fault as his.
Gus and she had been pretty good friends with Kate and Henry, their next-door neighbors. Myrtle and Kate were close enough that they confided a lot in each other. One afternoon, Myrtle said she was so hot she could hardly bear it, but that Gus didn't satisfy her any more sexually. Kate pouted and admitted that it was the same way with her and Henry.
"Hank would be shocked at what you've just said," Kate told Myrtle. "He thinks you're some kind of sex goddess, or something. He's always envying Gus, saying what a cute ass you've got!"
Myrtle had thought Hank looked pretty sexy.
She'd recently read a book about mate swapping, something Gus had brought home and left lying around. At first, she'd thought it immoral and downright silly. But now, she didn't know. She wanted to tell Kate about it, but she didn't know how.
Kate gave her an opening when she said, "It's too bad Hank can't sleep with you and I take over the bed with Gus!" Kate was only joking, of course, but it occurred to Myrtle that it might be a pretty good arrangement, temporarily.
"Kate," she said, "I've got a book you ought to read. Gus brought it home, and it's about wife swapping-"
"God, let me see it!" Kate said anxiously. "Go home and get it!"
Myrtle went home and got the book, and the two women spent the rest of the afternoon reading it. In the end, they both agreed that it might be a good experiment to try, providing their husbands would agree to it.
Myrtle approached Gus that night. "Hell, yes!" he exclaimed. "I've been waiting for a long time to get a piece of Kate's pussy!"
Myrtle admitted that she wouldn't mind trying Hank out. "The only thing, I'd want us to do it in different rooms. I think I'd get jealous otherwise."
"All right," Gus said. "We'll fuck separately."
Kate had a little difficulty with Hank, however. He admitted he'd like to find out what Myrtle was like in bed. But he didn't know. It didn't seem right. He'd thought a great deal of Gus but he didn't know how he'd feel if he knew Gus had fucked his wife.
The next day, Myrtle and Kate got together. That evening, after work, so did Gus and Hank. They all four finally agreed to try a swap fuck party that night.
They held the party at Gus and Myrtle's house.
Immediately, Myrtle led Hank off to the bedroom. She wanted to work on him before he got cold feet. Standing nearly nude before him, she said, "I'm tired of fucking Gus. It's the same old routine."
Hank had come out of the bathroom, naked. His ample cock was getting hard. He ambled up to Myrtle and shook it at her. "Maybe this will give you the thrill you need!"
Myrtle's brown hair was down to her shoulders. She wore only her panties, and nothing else. She was studying the reflection of her large breasts in the mirror. She had dark, spike-like nipples.
"I can hardly wait to get my hands on those tits," Hank said. "I wish Kate had big tits." He grabbed both bulbous boobies in his hands and played with them.
Myrtle said, "Ooooh, that feels good!"
He pulled her panties off and said, "Hell, you excite me, baby! And I know what you need!" He grinned and pushed her onto the bed. "You need daddy to eat your cunt a little!"
"Ooooh, Hank!"
She let him lick up and down her slit. Then his head came up, and his lips clamped to hers. She felt his cock flatten against her belly as his tongue stroked in and out of her mouth. She writhed, rubbing her erect nipples against his hairy chest. Little darts of delight traveled through them and on to other parts of her body. Her cunt was getting warmer and was moistening.
Hank ran his hands over her buttocks. He stroked a thick finger up and down her crack, teasing her asshole. Nothing turned Myrtle on like having her anus petted.
"Oh, Hank, fuck me!" she cried.
He bent over her. "Grab my cock," he ordered. "Now, guide it in!"
She gripped his cock and arched herself, trying to drive her tit into his mouth as he plunged in. He licked the nipple briefly, then hunched into her.
She gasped and lifted her thighs onto his shoulders. His cock sank deeper into her slit. She quivered with excitement and wiggled to give him greater pleasure. He kneaded her breasts as he stoked his cock in and out of her cunt.
His cock was big and full, going in and out of her slit, finding her throbby little clit. His fingers pinched her tingling nipples, and pulsations of pure pleasure traveled up and down her body, colliding somewhere deep inside and exploding into warmer waves which radiated outward. Her mouth lolled open, and his tongue stabbed into it.
She felt his cock throbbing in her. It was nearly a month since she'd been fucked, and she was primed to enjoy all the meat she could get. Hank was giving her pure wonderful hell!
She rocked and writhed, causing his cock to slip out once. He quickly got it back in and centered his head on her clit. That set off her climax and luscious, warm tremors went all through her.
"Oh, Christ-oooh, Jesus!" she cried.
He kept pumping into her wet, throbbing cunt until he was satisfied and fell slack upon her. She felt his juices draining into her and running down her legs.
She opened her eyes and gazed dreamily up at him, feeling his prick, still hard, in her snatch. She drew back, and he let his big pecker slip out with a splash.
"Baby, you've got the hottest cunt in the world!" he told her.
She giggled and told him, "And you've got the best cock I ever had stuck in me!"
They dressed, and just as they went to the living room, Kate and Gus emerged from the other bedroom.
"How did it go?" Hank asked.
"Oh, he was filthy!" Kate laughed. "He gave me a vigorous, hard-prick screw!"
Gus hugged Kate to him. "We'll all have to try this again soon," he said.
Much of the strain was lessened. And both parties agreed to go by a different set of rules for being good neighbors. They'd be careful, mind their own business, and go their own ways, which would include private swap parties. What they did was nobody's business but theirs.
Unfortunately, that isn't often easy to do in suburbia. One neighbor may suspect hankie-pan-kie and tell another. And so, a rumor, sometimes based on a few facts, will be passed along. Such was the case with Myrtle and Gus and Kate and Henry.
Several other women, trapped and lost, with a useless feeling, living a dull and dreary existence, approached them and asked about swap parties. Suburban people are joiners, and so it wasn't long until a swinging group was organized.
There was more than one reason for the popularity of the swap party. The chief one, however, was that it cost no money, except for those couples who had to hire a baby sitter on those nights that the club met. The local country club had a thousand dollar entrance fee, plus a fifty dollar monthly minimum for food and drinks, and a lot of people to join it. Many of the wives organized literary and sewing groups, which gave a boost to their faltering egos.
But in Time-payment Paradise, nothing boosted people so much as did the swap club. A big prick or a good, hot cunt were the only things needed to keep up with the Jonses! It gave both men and women the feeling for the first time that they were living like country squires.
It was a sport, better than baseball or any elaborate TV program. It was better than any game in which you were required to score a number of points. And it cut down on a wife and husband's squabbling over clothes. Few clothes were really needed for successful swap parties.
For instance, one of the men said this: "Yesterday was Betty's birthday. We had a nice dinner with a couple of friends."
"And what did you give her?" his friend asked.
"Oh, I let Pete give her a sample of his nine-inch dick. She'd been complaining about my six-inch nubbin which she'd felt for ten years."
News gets around. Some people thought that these suburban games were amusing and funny. Suburban ministers, on the other hand, have begun to show serious concern about the aspect of their parishioners' lives. They have begun to speak out against preoccupation with material things, which, they say, is causing a neglect of deeper values.
"What's material about fucking?" one gentleman asked his wife, after church. "I bet that preacher hasn't had himself one good piece of ass in his whole life!"
One psychologist says suburban people are not running away from anything, as several authorities have accused. "They're coming to a way of life that is maturing them, pointing a way to greater personal freedom and happiness."
Let us hope that he is right.
CASE HISTORY
Judson LaRue was a thirty-six-year-old pianist, mechanic, and self-styled preacher. As a preacher, he had had his share of sex from his various female disciples, and perhaps that is what decided him to turn entirely to religion for his fulfillment.
He boldly set about organizing a new religion, which he called, "The Church of the Snake," snake symbolizing the devil and the male sex organ. Instead of worshipping God, LaRue and his followers would worship Satan.
His venture was successful. He boasts of a following of over two thousand.
His home, located in a quiet section of Chicago, became his church. It contains thirteen rooms, and at one time, was a brothel. All rooms are decorated with the phallic symbol.
Visitors, must arrive in pairs, a man and a woman. The huge front door is painted black, and a sign reads: Danger. No trespassing. The door is guarded by a large, fierce dog. At night, the dog sleeps with LaRue and his blonde wife, whom he calls Lisa.
Lisa LaRue is one of the foremost disciples of her husband's church. "Stan has kept religion going for thousands of years," she claims, '"It's about time the forces of evil got all the respect they deserve."
LaRue often runs an obscure ad in the newspaper. It reads something like this: Are you seeking soul satisfaction? Are you broadminded and have unusual interests? If so, write Box 746.
It's the usual pitch, of course, for the swap party. And 'swapping' is the major ritual of LaRue's church.
As the 'high priest,' LaRue thinks it proper that he wear a distinctive costume. Instead of the usual clergyman's garb, he wears a red velvet cape and a devil's hood, complete with horns.
He wears nothing under his robe, and his greeting to all female followers is a short session with him enveloped in his cape. He smiles and says, "I just get them in the mood for the big deal."
Scattered throughout his unholy sancturay are bizarre candleholders, made in the form of the penis. A nude woman decorates the altar, which is nothing more than the mantel over the fireplace.
LaRue urges his followers to indulge themselves fully in all the sexual sins. "The sexual sins are actually virtues," he explains. "They lead to physical and mental gratification."
"How can somebody be good to his fellowmen if he doesn't share his body?" his wife adds. A typical night goes something like this: A man and a woman arrive together. LaRue meets them at the black door and calls off the dog after they've indentified themselves. Immediately, he takes the woman over and strips her, while his wife, Lisa, does the same to the man.
LaRue is reputed to have one of the world's largest cocks, and often, he is not able to penetrate his lady follower. But he heats her up by rubbing against her under his cape until her pussy throbs and is all wet and juicy, just right to receive some man of a more normal size.
He fools with her until his next pair of guests arrive, then he turns her over to some ready and willing man already present.
The living room floor becomes the scene of action. There are bedrooms, of course, but nobody seems interested in them. Privacy would have spoiled the fun. The living room floor becomes a veritable sea of wiggling, spasming flesh.
LaRue now has some woman face-downward over the arm of the sofa. He is poking his huge pecker into her cunt from the rear.
He rams it in and out, cursing her as he hunches.
She is sobbing as her legs kick impotently. In exquisite pain, she hammers her fists against the floor.
The rage which has welled up in the preacher bursts into savage action, and he pumps her with all he has, which is too much.
Some other man sees and rushes up to LaRue. He grabs the preacher by the shoulders and spins him away from the sobbing woman.
Taken by surprise, and with his cock standing out like a telephone pole before him, LaRue glares, then goes on to find another juicy female pussy.
The man helps the girl to her feet. She says her bottom aches, and she can hardly stand on her feet. She comes into her rescuer's arms, sobbing.
"Oh, darling," she moans. "Thank goodness you came up."
"Let's lie in the far corner," he says, ushering her quickly across the room.
They lie together, and she doesn't want to delay for a moment the joining of their bodies.
The man doesn't want to delay, either, so he gets over her. She has his erect penis in her hands, and he is toying with the lips of her cunt.
"You didn't like LaRue's big dick, did you?" the man asks.
"It hurt," she said.
"Don't talk, darling."
He split her thighs wide, and she took his cock deeply into her slick, snug cunt. It was exciting when she began to twist and pump up and down.
"Ooooh, I love to screw you!" she cried, jiggling her tits in his face.
He grasped her quivering titties and fucked her deep, his prick stroking to the very bottom of her wiggling, hot hole.
"Ooooh, darling," she cried, "screw me-oh, screw me!"
He growled and did his best.
In return for this kind of action, the other tidbits of devilish wisdom, LaRue expected his followers to support his 'church' with financial donations.
And, unlike the practice of most religions, those who didn't contribute both sex and money were asked not to return.
Mae Watkins, another of LaRue's clients, claims she learned to be a woman from nineteen men.
She had married at eighteen and thought she loved her young husband, Dan. But sex with him was no good. He'd no more than get in her until he was finished, and she'd lie in misery the rest of the night. In four years of marriage, he'd brought her to a climax only one time. They'd consulted their family doctor with no satisfaction. So when Dan learned of Judson LaRue's 'religion' and wanted to join, Mae readily agreed.
She didn't know why, but it took her forever to get ready for Dan. However, just looking at several of the men at LaRue's house caused her juices to flow, and she'd feel wet between the legs.
The first time LaRue took her under his cape, she was scared. She didn't know anyone had a cock as big as his. She'd never seen any but Dan's, and it was miscroscopic in comparison to what Preacher LaRue had. Of course, he couldn't get it in her rather small hole, and he only tried once. After that, he just rubbed, rubbed against her until she was fit to be tied.
The man who rescued her from LaRue was big in size, but his cock wasn't much bigger than Dan's and it didn't scare her. She wanted it in her bad.
He got her on the floor, and the moment he entered her, she floated away in ecstasy. He knew how to use what he had, and he made her feel better than Dan had ever made her feel.
He was pumping her fast, and she gasped and said, "Slow down, will you?"
He slowed, but he kept thrusting steadily between her uplifted legs. She sighed sweetly, then cried out, "Oh, gimme all of it!"
"Okay, honey," he said, and both hands went up to capture her breasts.
Mae forced herself to untense. No reason to act like a child. She felt his prick swelling inside her. He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. He nuzzled her hair as he fucked it to her.
His nice prong brought her to a wonderful climax. Her heart pounded, and her blood surged through her body and throbbed in her temples. She knew now what a good fuck was like.
"Oh, Jesus Christ!" the man cried, then began shooting his thick, white semen into her. He filled her completely, and the stuff began running out of her throbbing pussy.
She, too, erupted suddenly, unable to keep it back. It was a crazy, wild sensation that flooded her, jerking her body, flinging her into uncontrollable spasms.
She'd hoped this experience would make it better with Dan. But it didn't. If anything, Dan performed worse the next time they did it together.
So back to Preacher LaRue's 'church' they both went.
Mae got screwed by nineteen men, all of them thrilling her to various degrees, all of them better than her husband was.
During that time, Dan had learned some tricks from the various women partners. It was Lisa LaRue, though, who really taught him how to throw it to a woman.
After giving it to nineteen strange men, Mae, once more, spread her legs for Dan.
Mae smiled mysteriously as she lay back and let Dan have his way. She knew a couple of tricks she intended to try. He smiled back and came over to the bed, putting his hand on her naked thighs. She gasped as he suddenly slid around in front of her and grasped her ass. He was so slick and smooth she could hardly believe it was her husband. He grinned from ear to ear as he came a little closer, pushing her legs apart. She reached for him, smiling, pulled his face close and kissed him.
Almost instantly, she felt his prick being buried inside her, and she gasped again, feeling invaded. She gulped for breath.
He was up her a mile, and now he was feeding it to her smoothly. Mae closed her eyes contentedly, breathing harder because his lance was surging now, supple and exciting. She began to writhe under his treatment, and her flesh was hot.
He whispered, "Enjoying it, darling?"
"Oh, yes, yes!" she cried. She began moaning as Dan shot into her, and then she spasmed to a wonderful climax. A long time later, Dan withdrew his long sausage from her, kissed her softly, and sighed.
"Jesus, man, I didn't know you could be so good!"
"You, too," she said. "I guess nineteen men have taught me how to do it!"
"I learned a few things from those women, also," Dan told her. "But, come on, mamma, let's do it again!"
"Okay." Mae grabbed his now hard cock and guided it in. Dan reared and let himself down on her heavily.
They rocked together and rolled, and Mae could hardly breathe for a minute. Dan slowed, and their bodies fused and undulated.
"Dan, darling," Mae said, "I think we've found LaRue's religion. And I'm all for quitting his old church!"
Dan laughed.
Dottie Boone was ready to take her husband to court to seek a divorce.
"We haven't had sexual relations since we got married," she told a friend.
"How long have you been married?" the friend asked.
"Sixteen years!" replied Mrs. Boone.
Dottie Boone, thirty-six, complained that she was willing, but that her forty-year-old husband wasn't.
"I try my best," she said, "but I can't get Matt interested. I've visited doctors. I have wanted children, and for sixteen years, I've hoped. I've always been dissatisfied with the state of affairs which existed. Here I am, thirty-six, and still a virgin!"
Luckily, Dottie Boone's friend knew about LaRue and his 'religion.' "Maybe the 'church' can help," she said.
Dottie thought it was worth a try, so she talked it over with' Matt, who was reluctant to try it, evidently being a strange kind of man who didn't crave sex.
Dottie went alone one night to LaRue's house. Being alone, she wasn't admitted, of course. She told her friend, who was able to arrange for an interview with the head of the Satanic 'church."
She told LaRue that she'd never had a sex life, not even during the first days of her honeymoon. LaRue asked for an interview with her husband.
After days of coaxing, Dottie was finally able to get Matt to go to 'church.' LaRue talked with him, and Matt at first denied there had been no intimacy in his married life.
LaRue summed it up, "So far as evidence goes, there's been no sexual intercourse, no love, no affection, no kindness or consideration. I'm quite satisfied there's been no sexual intercourse between husband and wife. Whether Matt Boone is capable of normal relations with another woman, I know not. But I'm going to let Lisa find out!"
Lisa stripped Matt and rolled him on the floor that night. But, try as she would, she couldn't get his cock to rise. She fingered it, skinned it back, pumped it, and nothing happened. It lay as limp as a deflated balloon.
Once, she took it into her mouth, and she thought it was coming to life. The moment she removed her lips, it died.
LaRue went over to see how the two were getting along. Accidentally, he let his cape part, and his huge cock poked out into Matt Boone's face. Matt grabbed it and squeezed, and suddenly, his own cock rose to match Judson La-Rue's in hardness and size.
After that, Lisa LaRue's job was easy. Matt retained his erection and screwed her twice. Later, he said, "She was my first piece of ass. I didn't know ass felt so good."
That same night, after she'd serviced two other fellows, he screwed his own wife. "Let's go home, honey," he said, after he'd shot his wad. "I want more of this in our own bed."
Many a man has found that swapping has awakened his sexual powers to new heights. Often, after a few extra-marital experiences, a man or woman has returned to his or her mate with renewed vigor in the marriage bed. "The casualness of the swap party dissolves inhibitions and provides expression," explained one participant. "Often, married couples are good friends, but not good mates."
One psychologist says, "Our greatest problem with our feelings comes in communication. The error in communicating is not asking for what you want, hoping the partner will comply with your secret wish anyhow. The error in receiving ideas is not asking for what you want, hoping the partner will comply with your secret wish anyhow. The error in receiving ideas is pretending to ignore a message. Women, because of old ideas about sex, are often prone to do this. A healthy relationship does not always have to be an agreeing relationship. If you're not in the mood for sex momentarily, say so the next time!"
Even with scientific interest in outer space, nothing is researched more than the human personality. Why is one person confident and full of physical vitality, while another isn't? One group of behavioral scientists says that if you sleep on your side, curled up like a cat, you're probably a lonely person. The flat-on-the-back sleeper is happy with himself and his accomplishments. The side-sleeper is a complex person who is apt to look at life negatively. The bed hog is expressing feelings of aggression against his mate.
A husband-wife psychological team at the University of Illinois says that men who prefer women with big bosoms tend to be more social than those who prefer gals with smaller ones. Guys who like gals with long legs are usually rather passive and seldom drink. Interest in women with shorter legs indicates also an interest in social activities.
And women with fat knees had better cover them up. There's no sense in telling the world she's addle-headed.
During the Depression, one often heard talk about the "forgotten man." He was the fellow without one single dime to jingle against the other. Today, we have a new "forgotten man" and, oddly enough, he makes up the most part of the male population. He's the married man, the most taken-for-granted creature in world history.
Most people know that when the poet sings "love makes the world go round," he really means SEX. Freud discovered that interesting fact more than sixty years ago. Modern advertising agencies have worked it into the ground. Everything from cosmetics to detergents are advertised by sexy girls on television, and a normal male is kept in a state of semi-heat during his entire adult life span.
Browse through any bookstore, and you will find that almost every important person's sex life has been carefully considered. Helen Gurley Brown has given us the intimate secrets of sex and the single girl. Betty Friedman has become the high priestess of the feminine mystique. Doctor Albert Ellis has explained sex and the single man. On the offbeat side, there are books about homosexuals and lesbians. Only the poor married man has been left out. Is it fair?
"Once a man is married, his sex life is taken care of for good," say the experts. It's as if all perfectly natural sex urges have been patted on the head and told to be good little boys. The fact that husbands sometimes stray, even in the happiest marriages, has been ignored.
Once in a while, one will come upon a mildly controversial article, usually in a woman's magazine, on the 'problem' of the restless husband. These articles always conclude that a straying husband always comes home, like Bo Peep's sheep, wagging his tail behind him.
The advice usually is just to give the adventurous husband a little rope, but not too much. These writers, usually women, take a highly tolerant attitude.
Or, so it seems on the surface. But scratch deep enough, and you will find them insulting.
The adulterous wife is never mentioned in the same tone as that used about straying husbands. Wives don't "run around" the way husbands do. They aren't "lured away" by conniving blonde secretaries.
No, indeed! The unhappy and unfaithful wife is always driven into some handsome man's arms because her husband has neglected her, has inept sex techniques, or an expanding waistline. Wives have "meaningful affairs" that somehow make them better wives and mothers in the end. Husbands are expected to understand this, and to forgive and forget.
But the husband who is having an affair becomes the object of scorn. If the girl is younger than he is, then he is dubbed "a silly old fool."
It would be great if all married couples lived happily ever after. It would be wonderful if they loved, honored, and obeyed their marriage vows. However, the truth is that many husbands and wives do stray. By modern standards, the wife gets by with it somewhat better than her spouse does.
What the adultery-minded husband needs is more respect. Sex will rear its pretty head no matter what happens, so why should the husband be made to look like the villain, or a fool? In a society in which everybody else's sex drives are analyzed and understood, why should the married man be snubbed?
There are a lot of statistics concerning the wayward husband, but not much sympathy. There are reams of reasons why he climbs into the sack with another woman. There are reports on the age when he first gets restless, on his social, educations, ethnic, and financial condition, and lots of remedies have been prescribed, but nobody seems to understand that sex is not like a smog, that you can't control it with even the best of modern technology. Therefore, since extra-marital sex is inevitable, shouldn't life be made easier for the married man?
In cases where swapping is mutual, the problem has been solved, to the satisfaction and greater happiness of both parties. If husband and wife don't think swapping immoral or antisocial, if they don't see anything wrong with sex with another partner, if they can enjoy it without regrets, and keep it private, then the public isn't outraged, and all is well.
There are no statistics on how many trips to Reno have been avoided by the successful swap party, on how many men have avoided poverty through heavy alimony, but if the figures could be rounded up, they would be enormous.
In many ways, a married man who decides to have a little fun is like a tenderfoot in the desert. He's lost. He knows he wants to go somewhere, but he's not sure of the direction. If the wife goes along, the trip is better. Life would be made better for all concerned if the wife would cooperate. Contrary to general opinion, very few married men seek an affair, or ditch their wives permanently. Usually, what happens is that he sneaks around and bungles the job, and the wife, outraged by his actions, seeks a divorce.
What would the average wife say or do if her husband confessed openly, "Honey, I love you, and all that, but I crave a piece of somebody else's nookie?"
Could she realize his need for change, for adventure? Or would she consider his desires a reflection on herself?
The wise wife might gain a lot by merely saying, "Okay, dear. However, if you play it that way, expect me to do it also."
Imagination is the key to success. Yet, too many men use worn-out excuses and techniques. They say, "Big convention next week-don't call me at the office. I'll be in an important meeting-What's my new secretary like? Well, nothing special."
If wives and husbands would cooperate, some people suggest, they might revise and revitalize the entire process of fooling around. They could do it together in private swap parties, among intimate friends, and gone forever would be the job of hiding telltale signs of lipstick on one's collar, or hiding motel keys.
"Somebody ought to write a new code for husband and wife relationships," is the way one swapper put it during a recent interview.
