Springdale was like any other medium-sized community anywhere in the United States. It had a Main Street, a Central Park, and a Memorial Cemetery. It had a John F. Kennedy high school, a Martin Luther King boulevard, and a Harry S. Truman municipal library. The older section of town contained well-constructed houses with large porches, and huge oaks spanning the front yards. Each older home was meant to last for a century, or at least, several generations. The newer section of town was overdeveloped by chintzy contractors who built pre-fab units made of el-cheapo plywood and plasterboard, meant to last only as long as the mortgage.
On the whole, Springdale was like Anywhere, USA.
When Fred and Donna moved into town they thought that they had found the ideal place in which to live. They had recently moved from a small town in the Deep South and were looking forward to making a go of it in a new section of the country. They were a very attractive couple. They looked like the Homecoming King and Queen of the local high school. They were both in their late twenties. Both were in robust health. They had perfect weight, perfect blood pressure, and no problems with high cholesterol
When friends asked how they maintained their tip-top shape, they would always answer, "We eat the right foods, get plenty fresh air, and walk the , straight and narrow path."
If nothing else, it was a good line.
Fred stood about five feet eight, as did Donna. When they walked down the street together people often thought that they were related simply because their heights were so similar. They had met in their sophomore year of high school in their small Southern town and had been together ever since.
He had been attracted to her outgoing personality, whereas she had been attracted to his gentlemanly manners. In an age when most males had forgotten how to hold a door open for a woman, Fred was always there to act chivalrous, be courteous, or say the proper thing at the proper moment. He was the last of a dying breed: the Southern Gentleman.
Donna was very pretty. She had the face of an All- American Girl. Perfect mouth, teeth, and nose. No need for orthodontic work or rhinoplasty-ever. She had bright blue eyes, buoyant brown hair, and a fair complexion which tanned easily.
She was trim-not petite-and stood as straight as an arrow. She was in remarkably good physical shape, which came from exercising regularly and eating properly. From all of her exercises she had developed a wasp-like waist with a firm little tummy. Fred frequently teased her that he could encircle her waist with his large hands and touch his fingertips.
She had an especially pleasing belly-button situated exactly midway between her pacifier and her satisfies Whenever she giggled it would spasmodically wink in and out as if it had a life of its own. Its elongated shape added to her mouthwatering sensuality.
Donna also had long, shapely legs that seemed to go on forever. They were firm all the way from her ankles to her crotch her girlfriends frequently commented about how attractive they were. It was no secret that they longed to have a pair as lovely. She kept them sleek and smooth by bathing and shaving them regularly. There was nothing she liked better after a hard day of exercising or jogging than to relax in a hot bath and massage her calves and thighs.
Her hips and breasts were curvaceous and symmetrical. Not too large, not too small-just right. She had what could only be described as "perky" titties. They were firm, slightly uptilted, and very succulent looking. They were the kind that men wanted to lick for hours at a time and women secretly coveted.
Because she had perfect posture and such a tiny waist she looked terrific in any piece of clothing. In fact, she was a knockout-all fit and trim and bubbling with sexuality. When she wore a bikini, she could give a hard-on to a eunuch. Yet, like so many truly lovely women, she was totally unaware of her own attractiveness.
Fred might have been partly to blame for her naivete because he was the kind of man who wanted "voluptuous" rather than "pretty". He never gave her the kinds of compliments that could build her self-confidence and self-esteem. It just wasn't in his nature to say, "My, but you look lovely today!", or, "You're truly beautiful." His wife could have been a stand-in for Cheryl Tiggs, whereas he was looking for Rachel Welch.
Although the average person on the street couldn't see it, Donna also had one of the prettiest pussies anywhere. It was oval-shaped and pouted outward nicely from beneath her firm incurving stomach. Whenever she was alone in the bathroom she would admire it for a moment or two in the mirror before taking a shower or reclining in the tub.
She liked to wash it carefully with soap and then rinse it gently with the best hair conditioner available. She thought nothing of spending thirty or forty dollars for a bottle. She found that regular lathering softened the pubic hair and made it nice to touch. She had heard that as women got older their pubic hair became bristly. Yuck! She didn't want that to happen. Like skin care, a woman needed to be concerned about her pubic hair at an early age.
She didn't know why she liked to pet her pussy, she just did. It especially felt delicious when she was relaxing in a nice warm bath. Then she would spread her thighs as wide as possible, reach down to her little triangle of fur, and spread the vaginal lips. She liked to feel the warm water rush into her vagina, and then rush back out of her innermost sanctuary whenever she squeezed her thighs together.
Donna was one of those rare women who took the time to trim away any unsightly pubic hairs.
Like most people she had one or two hairs which grew abnormally long-as if they were on steroids or something. To correct this she would sit on the toilet, spread her legs wide apart, and place a handheld mirror between them. She would then go to work with her little thinning shears and snip away those hairs which detracted from an attractive appearance. She liked to have a very nice oval coiffure between her thighs-one that was pretty to look at and fun to stroke. For some reason, it just seemed like the proper thing to do.
One day her friend Jill happened to walk into the bathroom when she was snipping away. "What on earth are you doing?" she asked.
Although somewhat modest, Donna replied without hesitation, "I'm giving my pussy a trim."
"Why?"
"I'm making my pubic region presentable."
Jill looked at her and exclaimed, "For god's sake, Donna! It's not going to be interviewed on 'Meet The Press'!"
"It makes me feel wonderful," Donna replied. "You ought to try it and you'll see."
"Are you sure that wonderful feeling is not due to your stroking it?" Jill asked with a smile.
"Now really! I know the difference between masturbation and a haircut. I'm sincere when I say that it makes me feel marvelous. You've got to try it. For my sake. Please."
Jill was skeptical, hut when a best friend pleads with you to try something new it's best to try what she's raving about. She hoisted her skirt and lowered her panties. She took the trimming shears from Donna and snipped away the unsightly pubic hairs. "I really can't believe I'm doing this," she said.
Donna giggled. "Just wait till you see the results."
Several minutes later, Jill was finished. She held the mirror between her thighs and looked at her auburn bush. "My god, Donna! You're right. It does make me feel more presentable."
"See! I told you."
"It makes me want to walk down the street without any undies and hold my skirt above my waist." She turned to Donna and said, "You should open a pubic hair salon and offer cunt coiffures. Your slogan could be 'Cunts-R-Us'."
Donna laughed. "My business wouldn't catch on until a celebrity paid a visit or two and spread the word. I would need someone like Connie Chung as a client. She could do wonders for a place like that."
Jill giggled. "Yea, I could just see her interrupting her news broadcast and saying, 'By the way folks, I had my twat trimmed at Cunts-R-Us today. Just look at the results. Aren't they marvelous?'"
Jill and Donna became the closest of friends and were soon exchanging pointers on how to improve their cutting techniques about the proper lotions, mousses, and jells to use. Because of her cunt discussions with Jill, Donna's curiosity about the genital region increased. She was starting to lose her inhibitions about discussing sex, but she still had a long way to go.
Whenever Donna walked down the street, men would rum their heads and stare. Not because she resembled the proverbial voluptuous centerfold, but rather because she was everyone's ideal of the All-American girl, sexy without knowing if, and beautiful, yet naive. She had all the right equipment, but none of the brash ego of those who flaunt it.
Many men who watched her sashay her tight little ass, or bounce her pert little breasts, also hungered to get her into the sack and fuck the living daylights out of her. It was not uncommon for male sales clerks to rub their crotches after she made a purchase and went on her way. And it certainly wasn't out of the ordinary for her to cause a twitching penis amongst construction workers.
However, she had never really had the living daylights fucked out of her because she was married to Fred, one of the most inexperienced-and hence, lousiest-lovers imaginable. His problem lay in the fact that he had married Donna at a very early age. He never had the experience of sewing his wild oats in any female other than his wife. Therefore, he never gained the experience necessary to fuck like a pro.
He was in great physical shape and worked continually on developing his pecs, delts, and biceps. Unfortunately, he spent very little time developing his lower back. This was a tragic oversight because that group of muscles was related to sexual stamina and endurance. If a man wanted a jackhammer dick, he had to have a powerful sacroiliac.
Somehow Fred had wound up with the prettiest girl in his high school graduating class, and everyone wondered what he had that was so special. A schoolmate of his once made the comment, "Either he has a dick the size of a horse, or he hypnotized that pretty little babe into marrying him."
No one could imagine Fred ever opening a book, so that ruled out the possibility of him being a hypnotist. Therefore, the rumor spread that he was hung like stud horse and could screw all night long in a variety of acrobatic positions.
Of course, that wasn't true either. He was no acrobat and had only the standard six-inch model penis with the regular pecan-size nuts dangling between his legs. He had wound up with Donna simply because he was the first man who happened to ask for her hand in marriage. That's it! That's all! In this regard, other men could take lessons from him.
He was also one of the hardest working men around. Whether it be in the oil fields, or in one of the numerous chemical plants where he managed to secure a job, he certainly put in a day's work for a day's wages. The poor fellow always came home at night covered with perspiration and worn to a frazzle. Many nights he simply plopped down on the couch and fell asleep-often to the consternation of Donna. After all, she was a sexually vibrant woman who wanted more from her man than the sound of snoring on the pillow next to hers. And her recent activities with Jill had only heightened her sexual awareness.
They were childless, but not because they hadn't been trying. He made love to his wife as often as possible- sometimes three or four times a month. And she went out of her way to insure conception. In this regard she was extremely old-fashioned. Furthermore, she never took birth control pills and always assumed the missionary position and spread her lovely legs only as wide apart as propriety would permit.
She yearned to try different positions. Jill had told her of the wondrous thrills which could be achieved in a doggy-position, or in a scissors-lock. And there were all those television shows that talked endlessly about sex: "Geraldo," "Donahue," and "Oprah." She would love to be booked on one of those syndicated shows and talk about her coiffured cunt, but Jill warned her that even Geraldo wasn't ready for that topic.
Donna wanted to be more assertive and aggressive during sexual intercourse, but kept her intentions to herself. After all, in her small Southern town a girl was raised to believe that the man of the household knew best about matters of sex, and that a woman shouldn't be too wanton in the bedroom.
Well, Fred didn't know diddly squat about sex. Although he was slightly older than his wife, sex was just as much a novelty to him as it was to her. They were virgins when they first got married and both were about as naive as a couple Thanksgiving Day turkeys being led to slaughter.
Fred never encouraged Donna to try any different positions. Primarily because he didn't know any, but also because he worried that she might become one of those liberated types of women. His buddies said that once a woman got on top during sexual intercourse, she would start thinking that she was the boss of cock. Within a matter of days she would take over the house and start barking orders as if she wore the pants in the household. Several of Fred's pals swore that they had lost control of their women because they allowed them to experiment with new positions.
Well, he wasn't about ready to allow that to happen. No sir. He was the man, and a man's home was his castle.
That philosophy might have been appropriate forty years ago, but things had changed radically in society and in the bedroom. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his woman in line. Donna was making increasing suggestions of late for a little experimentation. Things might have remained on the back burner, or could have been resolved, if they had remained in their small Southern town.
But as fate would have it, they moved next door to Pam and Keith.
To say that Pam was "stacked" would be an understatement. The woman was a walking advertisement for sex in every way, shape, and form. When Fred first looked over the fence and saw her he couldn't believe that a female with that much sexuality radiating from her pores actually existed. She could have been a brunette model for the cover of an X-rated Sci-Fi comic book. Suddenly, all of his old- fashioned small town attitudes about sex started to wane. When he saw the sumptuous globes of her glorious ass pointed in his direction, fantasies that he had never entertained before started occupying most of his waking moments. Yea! She could get on top. Anytime she wanted. As many times as she wanted.
Fred looked at her working in the garden and stood absolutely motionless. Women as good-looking as her didn't really exist. No way. And her white blouse did nothing to hide her ample breasts nor her large nipples beneath. Her tan shorts were so snug that she appeared to have been poured into them. He blushed with surprise when he recognized the cleft of her vagina pressed against the material. It was clearly discernible.
Although Donna was incredibly attractive, she didn't radiate sex the way that Pam did. Pam, on the other hand, could have been a centerfold for the glossiest and dirtiest girlie magazine in existence. She looked like the type who wouldn't hesitate to star in a porno flick-and the more fucking involved, the more she'd probably like it.
He watched her squat down in front of her petunias. Her pubis pressed outward against the crotch of her shorts. It appeared to be yearning to burst free. Indeed, she looked good enough to eat. He had heard that men sometimes did that to women, but he had never attempted such a thing during his marriage to Donna, For some reason, his wife seemed like too fine of a woman to do that with, whereas Pam looked sultry, exotic, and Cajun. Any woman with a body like that obviously knew a lot more about sex than either he or Donna. He just wondered how much?
Like Donna she had very long and shapely legs, and a narrow, flat waist. But her breasts were larger and her ass was fuller-more rounded, more womanly. She didn't look like she exercised or jogged to achieve her physique. Her figure was either natural, or she fucked a lot to maintain it. Genetics had been kind to her.
She was evenly tanned on her arms, face, and legs, and from what he could tell her copper tan covered her entire body. He bet that she was one of those women who sunbathed in the nude and exposed her titties to the warming rays of the sun for an overall healthy effect. He had heard it rumored that women who exposed their breasts to the sun had especially tasty nipples. He wondered.
Fred could just imagine feasting for hours on those melons of hers. They were the size of succulent ripe cantaloupes standing out proud and firm, whereas Donna's were the size of grapefruit. There was nothing wrong with his wife's titties. In fact, they too were marvels of creation. However, like most men he wanted a little variety. After all, a man may own a Cadillac, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't like to take a Corvette for a drive.
Besides, deep down, Fred had always longed for a big- breasted woman. Dolly Parton was his ideal. A man could really get down to business with tits like those.
Pam saw Fred looking at her and waved. She got up from her garden and walked towards the fence. She stepped close and said with a. smile, "So, you're our new neighbors, eh?"
He was so taken with her alluring beauty that he was unable to speak. Her dark, olive complexion seemed extremely sensual.
When he didn't reply in response to her question, it was left for Donna to step over and say, "Why yes. We just moved in today. I'm Donna, and this is my husband, Fred."
Pam seemed a bit amused by the husband's inability to speak. She went through this all the time with men. She flashed her brightest smile, one which was meant to travel to a man's heart via his balls, and said in a husky whisper, "Hi Fred. Welcome to the neighborhood." For an added effect, she licked her lips sensually and left them covered with a thin film of glistening moisture.
He cleared his throat and replied, "Thank you. I hope to see more of you." He didn't mean the remark to be a double entendre, it just came out that way.
"I don't know how we can avoid it, being neighbors and all." She inhaled seductively and tilted her head coquettishly. She could tell that Fred didn't know the first thing about fucking. The way he stuttered when he spoke to her, the way he fidgeted in her presence, and the way he seemed to be perspiring more than normal, all belied the fact that he may be a good provider but a poor lover. Of course, in time and with the proper instruction, any man could be turned into a maestro of passion.
Pam couldn't figure out how Fred wound up with a savory little piece like Donna. The blonde had every attribute that she admired in a woman. Perfect posture, a very thin waist, and an overall physical symmetry.
She had been watching the trim little blonde walk back and forth to the car for several days. She longed to get between those firm shapely thighs and taste her nectar. She obviously tasted as sweet as dew-covered honeysuckle on a summer morn.
Pam decided to start up a conversation by saying, "Sure is a hot day for moving in, isn't it?"
Donna smiled and replied, "Oh, it's not so hot. We're used to it. We're from the Deep South where the temperatures usually hit ninety this time of year as does the humidity."
Just then she over Pam's shoulders and saw a large black man step from the side of the house. Because she came from a small town in the South, every black-and especially every black male-was suspect of something. Everyone knew that black males were always up to no good.
She whispered to Pam, "Psst! There's a nigger in your back yard."
Pam looked at Donna and asked, "What was that?"
"I said, 'There's a nigger in your back yard.' Right over there. Behind you. Do you want me to sneak inside and call the police?"
Pam laughed. "I hardly think that will be necessary. That's my husband, Keith."
Donna's eyes became as round as saucers. She couldn't believe that a lovely white woman had married a negro. No way. Pam had to be on drugs or something to accept a negro's hand in matrimony. It was unthinkable that anyone would marry a darkie. Things like that just didn't look right on the Society Pages.
Pam could see that Donna was having a great deal of difficulty accepting the idea of an interracial marriage. She almost burst out laughing. She thought that such silly fears had been discarded long ago. But apparently not. Here was a lovely little blonde who was going out of her mind with the idea of living next door to a mixed couple.
Pam decided to play this game for what it was worth. She called out, "Keith, darling. I want you to come over here and meet our new neighbors."
Donna's eyes rounded with surprise. She didn't want anything to do with Keith. She had no intention of speaking to him-ever. After all, a white woman's reputation could be ruined.
Keith stepped over and said, "Hello. It's nice to meet you." He extended a handshake, but she didn't take it.
At first, she didn't know what to say. She had never been introduced to a negro who was married to a white woman. And there wasn't anything in the etiquette books about this.
He dropped his hand. He had run into these types of bitches all his life. Sbe was just one more white cunt who believed in racial superiority. So be it. They were a dime a dozen in America. He prepared to go on his way. He had better things to do than spend time with a racist.
Donna had to admit that for a black man Keith was extremely handsome. In fact, she was surprised to find herself attracted to him. He stood over six feet four and weighed about two hundred and twenty-pounds. His shoulders were broad, his hips were narrow, and his stomach was flat as an ironing board. If he weren't black, he would be her ideal of a perfect physique.
Because she was into physical fitness she sized-up the visual aspects of his body. His upper arms and delts were magnificent. His forearms were powerfully built and covered with protruding veins. Even his quadriceps and calves seemed chiseled upon an Adonis.
She decided to be friendly by saying, "Hi. I'm Donna."
Her voice was seductive, causing him to look at her more closely. He liked what he saw. This was a very, very pretty lady. Words like "scintillating" and "sexy" could describe his wife, but the word "pretty" was appropriate for Donna. She had that legendary peaches and cream complexion which belonged to an earlier era before suntans and beaches. Usually women who didn't have a tan looked pale and sickly. But not this woman. She was as healthy and as vibrant as a kudzu vine in June.
He would love to see what her body looked like without clothes. He was quite sure that she would rate a ten on a scale of ten.
Pam realized that their was some interesting chemistry going on. First Fred was unable to speak, now her Keith was struck with the same affliction. She smiled as a devious idea popped into her mind. "Hey! I've got an idea. Why don't we have a get together this afternoon over here by our pool. It would give us a chance to sit around, chit-chat, and get to know each other better."
"I...I...I don't think so," Donna stuttered. She wasn't quite ready to sit in mixed company- especially with a big, handsome negro.
"Aw come on!" Pam exclaimed. "It would do y'all good," she said with a Southern drawl, hoping to sound especially friendly. "C'mon over and sit a spell with us. We could sit by the pool and keep cool. Bring your bathing suit."
Now Donna was really worried. The last thing she wanted to do was to expose her body to a negro's gaze. Everybody knew what animal passions they had around an exposed white woman. "Oh, I don't think so, Pam. Thank you for the invitation."
Pam realized that it was going to be a hard sell, so she asked Donna's husband, "Fred! Why don't you two come on over this afternoon for a little party? Huh? What do you say? Don't you think that would he a good idea?"
Fred, who was always a gentleman, said, "Sure. That sounds nice. In fact, it sounds terrific." He turned to his wife and asked, "Donna, why don't we take them up on their offer? It sounds all right with me."
"Oh, do you really think we should, Fred? I mean, we're new in the neighborhood and all. We don't want to impose ourselves on our new neighbors."
"Imposition, hell!" Pam exclaimed. "You're our guests. We'd be delighted to have you. We'll have some drinks, listen to some music, and talk."
"Oh, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way to buy anything," Donna said.
"Nonsense," Pam replied with a smile. "We give parries all the time. It won't take Keith any time at all to make some drinks. I won't take 'no' for an answer. Now you both be over here at five o'clock sharp. Do you understand me?"
"We'll be there," Fred replied, his eyes gazing at Pam's incredibly scintillating figure. He couldn't wait to see her in a skimpy bathing suit so that he could survey the lines of her body even more closely. Mmm. She was one great looking piece of ass.
Donna blushed deeply. She realized that she was in a precarious position. So, she agreed. She shook her head and said, "Sure. We'll be there."
She hurried off to the house, not sure what to think. But she was slightly angered by her husband's obvious sexual interest in the next door neighbor.
Meanwhile, he watched Pam's ass shake from side to side as she too walked away. He was thinking of doing her doggy- style. Ah! To ram it into her from behind would be one the premier joys of my life.
CHAPTER TWO
Donna and Fred were in their bedroom. She was looking through the dresser for something to wear. She turned and said to her husband, "Fred, I think you really overstepped yourself when you agreed to this invitation. I have no intention of staying very long over at Pam and Keith's. Just the very idea of sitting in the presence of a negro is one of the more downgrading things I've had to do in my life."
"Oh honey!" he replied. "This is the 1990's-not the Deep South of the 1950's anymore. When are you going to wake up?"
"What do you mean?"
"So what if she's married to a black man? That's her choice to make, isn't it? It takes two to tango, and it's obvious that he's not holding her in bondage to marriage. Let them be."
"Oh Fred!" she exclaimed. "Can't you see that it isn't decent for a white woman to marry someone of a different race. The races shouldn't be mixed. Especially black and white."
"Who are we to say what should be done? If they love each other, so what? I don't see anything wrong."
"My word! Aren't you aware that if our white ancestors had mixed the races our civilization would have gone down the tubes long ago?"
Fred chuckled. "Donna, it's too much for one person to worry about the outcome of civilization. Furthermore, I don't think that one mixed couple is about ready to spell the doom of us all."
She looked over and said, "I swear. You're too good to be true. Why couldn't I have married a regular Georgia good old boy?"
"Because you married me."
She turned back and looked in her dresser again. "What am I going to weat to this little get-together?"
"Wear a bathing suit, silly. It's a pool party. Isn't that what Pam said?"
"I can't very well wear a bathing suit when I'll be in the presence of a negro."
"Why not? You used to wear them at your father's country club when black waiters and waitresses would bring you mint juleps."
"That was different. It wasn't like this. We weren't meeting blacks on equal terms. They knew their place in the South."
He crossed the room and stood close to her. "When are you going to wake up and realize that this is a new age? The sooner you discard those silly little provincial beliefs the better off we will all be. You're too pretty to be prejudices. Now, just wear a bathing suit-the same as Pam is going to wear- and things will work out. All right?"
"I don't think I have anything except this skimpy bikini. And I haven't worn it for a couple of years. I may have to go out and buy something."
"That's asinine! Just wear the bikini you have. This is only a pool party being given by our neighbors, for crying out loud! What could they possibly gripe about?"
"They might not think highly of us," she said as she bit her lower lip.
"Oh really, Donna! They're going to see us in all kinds of situations and conditions that others aren't, simply because they happen to be neighbors. You don't need to go out and spend two hundred dollars on a swimsuit for a fifteen minute get-together."
"Very well. I suppose that you're right."
She retrieved her swimsuit and retired to the bathroom to put it on. Several minutes later she came back out, stood in front of the full-length mirror, and assessed herself. She called out to her husband, "Fred! This thing is a little bit too tight." She ran her hands along her firm little tummy and said, "I don't remember it being so revealing."
He looked over. Indeed, the suit was too tight. It had either shrunk a little bit, or she had put on a couple of pounds in just the right spots. Maybe it was because she had firmed up in those right spots. Whatever the case, it fit her like a surgical glove.
Her flawless white skin glowed. The suit accentuated her curves and made her look that much more appealing. And the bottom half seemed to cup her pussy.
He had always had an inkling to get between those magnificent thighs of hers and eat her out the way that he heard about in some porno magazines. But of course, Donna was too prim and proper to allow anything like that. He had tried several times, but had always been pushed away. But tonight, she really did look good enough to eat. He would love to set her in the middle of the dining room table, spread her thighs, and lap away.
He realized that if Keith got a good look at her, he would feel the same way. But then, hopefully his Pam would be wearing something equally as revealing.
Donna's nipples pressed hard against the material of the swimsuit. They looked like little fingers poking outward from her full and slightly uptilted breasts. Her tummy curved inward until right above the pubis, where it rounded outward slightly. And the bikini bottoms were just tight enough so that he could discern the slit of her pussy.
Mmmm. That's where he would like to stick his nose and lap away for hours.
"Do I look all right, honey? Is this okay?"
"Darling, you look absolutely great." He wanted to tell her that she looked scrumptious, but checked himself.
She turned to the side and said, "Oh, I don't know. This bikini looks a little bit too revealing. I mean, my god! My breasts look utterly exposed in this thing."
He saw what she was talking about. There wasn't a millimeter of space to spare in either cup. Her titties filled them completely. They weren't as large as Pam's, but they were real beauties nevertheless. To assuage her fears he said, "Aw, don't worry about it. You look fine. Underwear ads are more revealing."
This was partly true, but underwear wasn't as sexually tantalizing as swimsuits.
Donna bent over and grabbed her little tote bag.
In this position, Fred could see the outline of her firm womanly ass through the material of the swimsuit. Mmm. He'd love to corn-hole her. Just once. That's all he wanted. If she would only relinquish her Southern propriety, which so restricted his sexual fulfillment, their marriage would be wonderful.
Pam, on the other hand, seemed to have no sexual restrictions. That woman oozed sensuality. He hoped that she and Donna would become friends. Maybe they could start discussing sexual matters. Maybe then Donna would open up and be a little more experimental. After all, Pam was married to a black man, and it was rumored that once a white woman experienced black meat, she became a sexual tigress.
Fred was stimulated by the thought of Keith sliding his dark meat into Pam. Why was that image so exciting? What was it about interracial sex that caused his penis to twitch? Maybe it was because Donna was so hostile to the thought of mixing the races that he found the idea appealing.
He looked again at the lovely rear end of his wife. He fantasized what it would look like stuffed with a long, stiff, black cock. Perhaps the one which belonged to Keith.
Suddenly, he developed an erection. He couldn't believe it! The mental image of his wife having interracial sex with the black neighbor stirred his hormones to the boiling point.
He reached down between his legs and felt his crotch. It was ready for action. His hard-on was like steel.
Just then, Donna stood up, turned around, and saw what her husband was doing. "Oh Fred! Come now! Really! We don't have time for sex before the pool party.
"I'm sorry. It's just that you look very sexy in your bikini."
She was taken aback by his compliment. The ones he gave her were few and far between. She could only think to say, "Thank you."
"I thought that we might be able to have ourselves a quickie before we paid our neighbors a visit." He didn't tell her that he was thinking of sex during the pool party and that the idea of a wife-swap had titillated his organ.
She seemed to be genuinely touched by his offer. "I'm sorry, darling. Not now. She walked over and kissed him on the cheek. "Let's plan on it when we get back, okay?"
"Okay," he replied in agreement, wishing that it was Pam who was making the offer.
As his wife turned and stepped into the bathroom, he realized that she truly was a lovely looking woman. He enjoyed his marriage immensely-it's just that it needed spicing up a little. Things had become too routine and too bland.
At long last, he was in the mood for a little sexual experimentation himself.
CHAPTER THREE
Keith Stepped into the shower stall and turned on the water. There wasn't anything he liked better than a nice warm relaxing shower after a hard day's work. The only thing better was having sex with Pam.
As the warm water began splashing against his chest he started to think. He realized that he was the luckiest man alive. He was married to a woman who had a magnificent body, and wasn't afraid to use it. Not in the slightest. In fact, she had such an insatiable sexual hunger that she frequently wore him out trying to quench it.
He began laughing as he lathered beneath his arms. Who would have believed that he would someday marry a white woman? Shit! No one from the old neighborhood, that's for sure. That was something that only Hollywood blacks did, like Sammy Davis Jr., and Sidney Poitier. Moreover, who would have believed that he would be deliriously happy with his marriage? He once swore that he'd remain single forever and never take a marriage vow.
"Ha!" he laughed aloud. "It just goes to show that you can't foretell the future."
He thought of how giving Pam was. The only thing she asked in return was plenty of sex, and that was something he was always willing to provide for a pretty lady-white or black.
He had really lucked out. Most white women were ball- busters. Some of them weren't happy unless they had a man's nuts in a vise and his dick in a bear trap. Yet, there was a lot of irony about them. The lovely ones seemed to be born with chastity belts, whereas the ugly ones seemed to born wirh their legs at a 180 degree angle.
He bet that new neighbor had a hang-up about sex. Blondes who looked that wholesome usually did. Too bad, because she would be a choice little fuck. He found the idea of screwing her immensely appealing. It had been a long time since he had nailed a blonde. But then, Pam always took care of all of his sexual needs.
As he began lathering the soap over his massive black body, he heard the door to the bathroom open. He had a hunch that it might be his wife. It was time for her afternoon fuck and he hadn't given her one yet.
He saw the silhouette of her body through the sliding glass door and waited for her customary entrance.
She was still wearing a terry-cloth robe when she opened the partition to the shower and asked, "Taking a shower, huh. Can I join you?"
"Of course," he replied. "Feel free to jump in anytime."
Pam removed her robe and placed it on the clothes hook. She stepped into the shower and said jokingly, "Oh my! There's a darkie in my bathtub! Oh dear me! What should I do! What should I do!"
He teased her by saying, "Spread your thighs and open wide; I'm here to give you a big surprise."
She looked down and saw his massive erection which was sticking upward at a sixty degree angle. "Is that for me, or did you grow that for our new neighbor?" she asked as she reached down and caressed it.
Keith smiled. "It's for you. But I have to be honest. I was thinking of her just before you came in here."
"I don't blame you," Pam said, as she let the warm water splash against her large breasts. "She's very pretty. Sort of like the All-American Girl type, wouldn't you say?"
"You're telling me," he replied. "I didn't think that girls like that existed anymore. I thought they went out with the poodle skirt of the fifties."
Pam turned around and faced him as she got completely under the spray. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, looked into his eyes, and said with a husky and sensual voice, "You'd like to get her into the sack, wouldn't you?"
He looked at his wife's magnificent body and replied, "You know it. But I wouldn't risk losing anyone as lovely and as wonderful as you."
She laughed as she planted a kiss on his ebony cheek. "That's very sweet, but did you realize that she referred to you as a 'nigger' when she first saw you?
He winced at the mention of the word. It was one of the ugliest terms in any language. He rubbed the soap between his thighs and lathered his testicles. "It doesn't surprise me. I suspected as much when she wouldn't shake my hand. Too bad. It just goes to show you that some white folks- including some white women-have a long way to go before they overcome their superiority complex."
Pam reached for his erection and asked, "I hope that you don't think I'm a racist."
"Hardly," he laughed. "Any woman who goes after dark meat like you, suffers from nymphomania, not racism."
She reached between his thighs and weighed his enormous testicles. She loved the way that they felt in her hands. They were like round billiard balls appropriately located beneath a mighty cue stick. "Are you implying that I fuck a lot?" she asked, teasingly.
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" he said with a smile.
"Well, I hope that you aren't complaining," she said as she stroked his manhood.
He leaned forward and kissed her fully on the lips. He loved this woman with all his heart. "The last thing that I would ever complain about is your unbridled passion. You're the best woman in the world, and the best lover of all time."
She hugged him tightly beneath the spray and said, "That doesn't mean that you wouldn't like a little variety, does it?"
He smiled. "Just exactly what do you have in mind?"
Pam took the head of his penis and lovingly stroked it. She then placed it in the cleft of her vagina and began working it up and down. "That little blonde neighbor of ours looks like she needs a lesson in black-and-white integration, wouldn't you say?" With her right hand she spread her cuntal lips wide and with her left she aimed the black spear at her very core.
"I suppose so, but you're the one that's going to have to be the instigator of any swapping plan." He looked down at the sight of black flesh plunging into white. The thought of doing this same thing with the new neighbor excited him. He really did want to spear that shapely blonde.
"Leave it to me, honey," Pam said as she spread her thighs on either side of his and slowly lowered her body down the length of his shaft. "I think I know how I'm going to accomplish it."
"How's that?" he asked as he wormed into her.
"You got a look at that husband of hers, didn't you?"
"Yea. So what?"
"Well, he practically had his tongue hanging out when he was looking at me."
"That's understandable. You're a terrific looking broad."
"No, no, it wasn't like that. It was more like the poor fellow was starving for sex."
"So, are you're saying that it's time for both of us to have a little extramarital affair?"
"Yes. Your birthday's coming up next week and I thought that this would be a good present."
"Holy shit! Talk about a birthday gift. I couldn't even purchase something like that at Nieman-Marcus."
"They seem like the perfect couple for us."
As Keith slid his way into her he said, "Imagine, my wife is going to seduce a white man. Will miracles never cease?"
She giggled and replied, "I'm only doing it so that you can get a crack at that lovely little blonde. I want to see what she looks like with a twelve inch black cock shoved up her tight little cunt."
"She'll probably die," he said.
"I doubt that. Any woman can handle a big dick if she allows her vagina time to adjust. I managed, didn't I?"
"I don't mean that," Keith said. "She sounds a like a tacist. How do you know that she'll agree to having sex with me?"
"You leave that to me. I'll work out those details before she comes over here. But I don't think I'll have much trouble with her. I'd say that she's very curious about your dark meat"
"Are you serious?" he laughed.
"Hey! I bet she's over there right now wondering if what they say about black men is true. I bet it's driving her nuts trying to guess how long your dick is."
"Pam, either you're an outstanding detective, or you have an incredibly dirty mind."
As she shoved her pelvis back and forth in time with his thrusts, she said, "Probably the latter. Ever since I first met you at that jazz festival I think of nothing but black cocks entering white cunts -especially mine." She paused for a second before asking, "Remember the first time that we did it, darling?"
"How could I forget? You were the most beautiful white chick that I had ever laid eyes upon. I thought that you had jumped right off of the pages of "Penthouse" or "Playboy". And to think, you were attracted to me."
"Hey! You were the most attractive man there, black or white."
"Hell!" he teased. "You were just in the market for black cock."
"I admit that I liked it, but I didn't love it until I had yours."
He jabbed a couple of lengthy strokes into and out of her vagina before asking, "Do you love me, or just my twelve inch penis?"
She made undulating circles with her hips, rotating her cunt upon his cock. "At first, it was just this magnificent organ which is presently providing me with such exquisite pleasure, but now it's everything about you." She kissed the tip of his broad black nose for emphasis.
"Such as?"
She giggled and said, "I also love your coconut-sized balls and the large amount of sperm that they contain."
Keith began banging away with powerful strokes. "Why you!" he exclaimed with a smile as he thrust into and out of her. "I could say that I only love your tight white cunt and your lovely white tits."
"As much as you use them, I think that you do." She stuck het tongue out and crossed her eyes to show that she was kidding.
The time for conversation had ceased. Serious fucking in a shower stall required mental effort and concentration. He held her rightly and began pounding into her furiously- just the way she liked it. He loved the way she screwed her pelvis around in large circles. Before he met her, he never knew that a woman could do that with her body. So many of them were about as agile as a wet tuna.
Pam said that she didn't know anything about sex until she started dating black athletes. They had such well- developed muscles that she decided to develop hers. And the most important muscles on a woman are those related to the pelvic region.
In only a matter of a few months, she was a bona fide sexual acrobat with one of the most limber pelvises in Springdale. In time she wanted more than just another physically fit black track star. She wanted a well-hung black stud who could match her sexual calisthenics.
She had found her Prince Charming in Keith. He was the best hung lover she had ever had, and the one with the most intelligence and gentleness. She had it all! A great provider, a great friend, and a great lover. She loved him dearly and would do anything to keep him happy-including some things he didn't even expect.
Keith saw that her orgasm was rapidly approaching. She was clutching him tighter and with more urgency. She had molded her flesh to his torso so that there wasn't any space separating them.
He decided to increase his tempo. His lunges were lifting her bodily off of the floor.
"Unnh! Unnh!" she gasped. "Just a little harder and a...unnh! Little deeper!" she advised.
He did as she asked, driving all the way up info her until he was knocking the air out of her lungs.
"Unnnnnnh!" she moaned as she thrust her hips forward with a mighty shove to meet his.
The time had come. He squeezed the last fraction of his penis into her and held it in place.
That did it!
They achieved their umpteenth thousandth orgasm during the course of their long and magnificent relationship. She was happy. He was happy. The afternoon fuck was out of the way. Now it was time to get ready for the evening fuck.
CHAPTER FOUR
Liz and Bart Smith also lived next door to Pain and Keith, and they had been spying on the mixed-race couple for quite some time.
Ironically, they had been married for ten years, but their marriage was virtually sexless. There was a reason for this. Bart was a bit on the chubby side. In fact, one could say that he'd eaten one too many cupcakes and had become a large one himself.
But his wife was nothing to brag about either.
Liz could have been a stand-in for Babe-the-Blue Ox of Paul Bunyan fame. She was just as large as Pam, but everywhere that the lovely brunette had beauty, Liz resembled a Holstein heifer. She had broad shoulders, a thick waist, and manly hips. She looked as if she could stop a Mack Truck dead in its tracks.
Many men were afraid of her-including her husband. The only reason that Bart had married her in the first place was because she insisted on it. One day she grabbed him by the collar, shook him several times, and said, "You're gonna marry me, do ya here?"
"Sure. Sure. That sounds fine with me," he replied with fear and anxiety. The poor fellow was eating a bag of potato chips at the time and never really forgave her for smashing them. ;, Liz also talked tough. The words "shit" and "fuck" rolled off her tongue with ease. She could say "motherfucker" as smoothly as a seven year veteran of the United States Navy. Her friends guessed that she married Bart because she loved having someone to boss around. She could frequently be heard saying such things as, "Pick up some milk at the store, ass-hole." Or, "Get off your fat ass and mow the lawn, dickhead." Or, "Hey fuckface! Bring in the mail."
Pam and Keith frequently overheard these rantings and ravings and would fall down laughing.
They couldn't believe that anyone would remain married to a woman like that- especially a wimp. They watched Liz beat Bart over the head with the morning newspaper, lock him out of the house for hours at a time, and slap stickers on his back without him knowing it. He would go off to school wearing a bumper sticker which might read "Kick me!"; or, "I'm a dork!"; or, "Idiot on sidewalk: Move over!"
The poor fellow had no self-esteem at all. Whatever little amount he had at the beginning of the marriage, was whittled away by the bitch he was married to. Night after night he would retreat to the security of his bedroom (he had his own) and fantasize about getting out of the relationship. But, of course, he wouldn't. He was too much of a wimp.
People wondered whether this was the result of the marriage, or just part of his character. Those who knew him best blamed it on his profession. He was a geographer who taught classes at the local college.
Geography was known throughout the academic world as the discipline with the" highest percentage of boneheads and losers. Anyone who pursued a career in it for any length of time eventually turned into a bonehead or loser himself. It was just the nature of things.
Bart passed the time alone in his room, either looking at pictures in the "The National Geographic
Magazine", or looking out his window and watching Pam sunbathe in the nude. Since his room overlooked her backyard he was frequently given an appreciative view of her lovely body for hours at a time. In fact, she was a study in geography herself. Her tits resembled twin mountain peaks. Her ass resembled sugarloaf hills. And her slit was as straight as the Suez Canal. If it weren't for her afternoon sunbathing, he might have forgotten what a white female looked like without clothes. After all, Liz had long ago ceased getting undressed in front of him, and the only nude pictures in the "National Geographic" were of New Guinea tribal women stirring cannibal soup.
He would frequently eat corn puffs and beat off while watching her stretch out on a beach towel. He especially liked to watch her do calisthenics. When she bent over to touch her toes, or did deep squats with her little barbell, his heart would practically stop. Once or twice he swallowed a corn puff whole and nearly choked to death before he could dislodge it.
Pam and Keith were almost always in the nude sometime during the week. If they weren't sunbathing on the patio, they would be skinny-dipping in their heated swimming pool, playing with each other's genitals, or, eating at the picnic table in their birthday suits.
Strangely enough, Bart found the sight of a nude interracial couple to be quite erotic. Perhaps it was the contrast in skin color which he found appealing. Or maybe it was simply the taboo aspect of interracial sex which titillated his hormones. Whichever the case, he would sit at his window and whack-off for. hours at a time.
And Pam provided him with some great whack-off material. For instance, she occasionally put her husband's penis in a hot dog bun and would then eat the bread. Or, she would stand on her head and split her thighs and serve her husband cherries from her crotch. She always seemed to be coming up with new and interesting sexual variations.
Bart had a habit of talking to himself whenever he watched the proceedings in his neighbor's yard. If he saw Pam bend over he would say something like, "Come on, honey. Just a little lower. Come on now. I want to see all of that pretty brunette pussy." And since she frequently made love with her husband on top of the picnic table, it wasn't uncommon for Bart to would cheer them on by saying, "Go! Go! Go!"
Although he always spoke aloud he spoke softly enough so as not to be overheard. After all, he-didn't want his neighbors to know about his watchful habits.
He would frequently reach down around his large belly and unzip himself. Beating off while spying on Pam had become an all-consuming hobby which occupied a considerable portion of his afternoons and evenings. In fact, he beat-off so much that his dick had developed a calloused skin.
Yet he wasn't the only member of the household that liked to spy and masturbate. His wife, Li:, also liked to look out at Pam's nude body. And like her husband, she would unzip her jeans and ruh her hands against her pubic region. And also like her husband, she talked to herself and made comments about what she saw in the neighbor's yard.
She thought of Pam as the ideal woman. She was large and beautiful, and those breasts were magnificent works of art She thought that they should have been carved on Mt. Rushmore instead of the faces of a bunch of ugly men. Yuck! She detested that gentler with a passion. The only one she had any respect tor was Pam's husband-and that was primarily because he kept Pam happy with his B-52 sized dick.
This got her to thinking about her own husband, Bart. She said aloud, "Has that fuckhead put the trash out like I demanded.' If he hasn't, I'll fry his nuts and smash 'em like pecans in a vise!"
She had married Bart for the simple reason that he was a relatively bright graduate student, whereas she was only a mediocre undergraduate. Long ago she realized that people didn't get ahead in academia and in life by studying, but rather by having the proper connections. And he provided her with the right connections at the right time.
She had stayed with him through the years because he landed a cushy job as an overly paid geography instructor. She could just sit around the house all day long and fuck- off, while the hubby brought home the paycheck. And as king as she wanted to fleece him, she could.
She never had to worry about him leaving her. He was too much of a wimp to do that. And she never had to worn- about another woman raking him away. He was a fat and ugly geographer.
She chuckled aloud when she thought about geography. "My god! What a sfupid-assed discipline. It's the only field of learning in all of academia where the professors are all social misfits, and the students are all boneheads."
Over the years she had met some of her husband's students. The boys resembled Alfred E. Newman of "Mad Magazine" fame, and the girls, Ma Kettle. To say the least, geography was not a subject which attracted the best and the brightest.
"Oh hell! I shouldn't laugh," she said to herself "After all, my fuckhead husband makes a good living at it for doing virtually nothing."
Again she chuckled aloud and mimicked his voice, '"Now class! Can you name the capital of South Dakota?' Damn! To think that he makes a living asking college students to answer second grade questions. Only in America! Only in America!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Pam Was Sitting beside the pool wearing only a very scant bikini. She saw Donna and Fred approach and said, "Well, there you are, darling. I thought you'd never get here."
"Hello," said Donna, doing her best to be polite.
Pam couldn't get over her attractiveness. She could have been a model if she wanted to. New York agencies would pay a small fortune for a lovely body like that attached to an innocent face- complete with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a beautiful smile. She was the very image of purity and wholesomeness. Well, before the evening would end, Pam would find out how innocent this savory looking morsel really was.
She got up and shook Donna's hand, and then turned and kissed Fred on the cheek. "Welcome to our backyard. It's nice to have you here." She was immediately struck by how small he was compared to her Keith. Fie seemed more like a boy than a man.
Just then, Keith stepped out onto the patio, waved at the guests, and walked over to greet them. He shook Fred's hand, and then leaned forward and planted a kiss on Donna's pink cheek.
She was utterly flabbergasted! In her entire life she had never had any intimate contact with a negro. None! Never! How dare he! He had taken advantage of her when she wasn't expecting it. Her honor her been sullied. It was a good thing that the only witness to the incident was her husband. And he was too busy looking at Pam to take any notice of what had happened to her.
She decided not to display her outrage. She didn't want to start things off badly with her new neighbors. Not with a thirty year mortgage. Besides, she and her husband were living in a different part of the country now. Maybe that's the way they did things in Springdale. Or, maybe Keith was so used to kissing white women that he thought nothing of it. After all, he had married one.
As her outrage subsided, she began to concentrate on the kiss itself. She realized that she had experienced something of a delicious thrill when his lips had touched her cheek. A little electric jolt had spread outward from the point of contact to numerous areas of her body. Her fingers, her toes, and even her tummy were all tingling.
Maybe it was Keith's tremendous size which so impressed her. He was so large compared to her Fred. He seemed to stand as tall as a skyscraper, or a redwood, towering over everyone else in the backyard. And he was big, having big muscles, and big arms, and big shoulders. His legs were big. His hands were big. His feet were big. She blushed when she began wondering if he were big everywhere.
Pam saw the rosy color rise on Donna's cheeks and knew what she was thinking about. She smiled. Every woman was alike. They were always curious about the size of her husband's penis.
She didn't waste any time in implementing her plan. She took Fred by the arm and sat him at the picnic table. She then sat next to him. This arrangement would insure that Keith and Donna would be required to sit together, or at least stand and become better acquainted.
Donna watched the voluptuous brunette stroll to the other side of the yard with Fred. She seemed ill-at-ease without the comforting reassurance of his presence. She especially didn't like the idea of spending time with a black man alone. But she had no choice. This was a social get- together and she had to make the best the situation.
Keith realized that she was nervous in his presence, so didn't immediately approach her. Instead, he busied himself making the drinks. He wanted to make certain that hers was extra strong.
Meanwhile, things were proceeding apace at the picnic table.
"So, Fred, how do you like my little swimsuit?" Pam asked as she removed her wraparound towel.
He looked down and saw that the swimsuit was nothing more than a G-string. Nearly her entire, incredibly gorgeous body was exposed to his view.
My god! he thought. What a truly magnificent creature!
She saw that he was admiring her tits and occasionally glancing down to the space between her shapely thighs. She asked him again, "How do you like my swimsuit?"
For some odd reason, he couldn't respond. He didn't know what to say. Words were failing him.
Since he didn't immediately respond to her question, she spoke his thoughts aloud. "Yes. My breasts are rather large, aren't they? I wear a 38-C cup."
He gulped. The direction of his gaze had been detected. He didn't quite know how to respond, so he simply said, "Er...yea...you really do have ... uh large ... breasts."
She smiled seductively and said, "Frankly, I think my Keith likes your wife's a little more than he likes mine. Just look at him over there. Why, he's staring at her breasts as if he'd never seen tits before."
Fred turned and saw that Keith was gazing down Donna's cleavage as he offered her a drink. His wife seemed uncomfortable with the attention, but then, she never liked being stared at by anyone.
Fred didn't know what to think of the situation. If this were the Old South, he'd probably be obligated to go over and shoot a black man fot looking that lecherously at a married white woman. But this was a new age, and a new town. Besides, why should he be angry at Keith for ogling Donna, when he himself was ogling Pam?
At that very instant Pam whispered in his ear, "Keith's probably interested in Donna because she offers a little variety-if you know what I mean?"
Fred's eyes lit with curiosity as he turned to face the beautiful brunette. Was she hinting at something, which he would love to participate in? A little wife-swap perhaps. Hmmm. The night would be interesting. He decided to let things proceed apace to see what would happen.
Meanwhile, across the yard, Donna was having a great deal of difficulty adjusting to the fact that she was virtually alone with a negro. She felt nervousness along with fear.
Keith was playing it cool. He would have to work slowly and methodically, remaining suave the whole time. "So, tell me about yourself," he asked. "How old are you?"
"Come now," she replied with a smile. "A woman isn't supposed to give away her age."
"A beautiful woman like you can't be more than twenty-five."
"Well, you're wrong. I am. By a few years anyway."
"I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "I've made it a habit to gage a person's age by his or her skin. But yours is so beautiful that I can't tell a thing."
She relaxed a little and said, "I try to avoid the sun as much as possible. Too many ultraviolet rays can age a person's skin prematurely."
"As you can see," he replied, "I don't need to worry about the sun." He pointed to his muscular forearm.
She caught the gist of the joke and chuckled. "Yes, I see what you mean."
Long ago, Keith had learned that the first giggle or chuckle was the most important moment. It set the tone for everything which happened during the course of a conversation. "How about another martini?" he asked.
"I'm really not a heavy drinker."
"Oh c'mon. Be social. Another isn't going to hurt you."
"Well. Okay. I guess so." She always worried about doing the right thing, socially. After all, she had grown up in the upper middle class where social status meant everything.
While Keith poured another drink, she looked over and saw her husband talking to the voluptuous Pam. It was incredible how good the two of them were getting along. It was almost as if they had been lifelong friends. Pam even had her hand on his shoulder and seemed to be massaging it with her fingers. Donna thought that the brunette was being overly intimate for a simple conversation.
Keith handed her another martini and she began to sip. She reclined in a lawn chair and he sat across from her. She looked over at Keith and noticed his face. She hadn't seen him this close before so she let her eyes linger on his chiseled cheeks, the authoritative eyes, and the angular jaw. Even the flaring nostrils suggested something of unearthly manliness that her Fred lacked.
But most impressive, was the physique of the man. He was so large and muscular that he resembled a Mr. America or a Mr. Universe. She was struck by the fact that he didn't have any fat. He seemed to be composed of only skin, tendons, and muscle. And his dark sheen highlighted the muscles that much more.
She was also impressed by his large chest. It was magnificent. It appeared to have been sculpted onto black marble by a Greek sculptor for all posterity to admire. She looked lower and noticed that through the terry-cloth pullover his abdomen was a washboard of muscles, so well- developed that she yearned to reach over and feel the horizontal lines with her fingertips.
Her Fred had tried to develop a muscular abdomen, but he never managed to acquire the washboard look of Keith's. Fred was in shape, but nothing like the black man sitting across from her.
She looked a little bit lower and realized that Keith must possess some incredible sexual equipment. The testicles filled the entire bathing trunks as if he had a pair of coconuts in there. And from the suggestive outline of the penis, it looked as if a huge Polish sausage had been doubled in half and stuffed in hi.s briefs.
Wow! she thought. I wonder how Pam takes that thing into her body! He's enormous! And he's still in the flaccid state. Imagine how large he must be when he's erect. Holy smoke!
For some strange reason, she started to feel a slight tingle between her thighs. Down there between her vaginal lips, a droplet of moisture was starting to ooze from her cunt. She couldn't believe herself. How could she possible be turned on by a black man.' She tried to subdue her feelings. They weren't normal for a transplanted Southern belle.
Donna finished her martini quickly, but Keith immediately poured another.
"Ah!" he said. "I knew you'd like my martinis. Here. Have another. The party's just beginning."
There was something suggestive in his tone of voice, but she let the remark pass. She again looked over at Pam and Fred, both of whom were having a very good time. Too good of time. They were both chuckling and occasionally whispering in each other's ear.
Fred was feeling quite giddy. He let his eyes wander freely over Pam's body now-from her high forehead, to her sexy ankles, and always stopped to admire the big tits. He couldn't get enough of them nor her olive complexion.
She kept asking, "So tell me, Fred. Whose titties do you like better? Mine or your wife's?"
To be courteous he would say, "I think yours are absolutely adorable. Of course, I love my wife's, but wow! You've got some beauties."
"Would you like to seem them without this bathing suit?" she teased.
"Shit! Would I ever. I'd give anything."
"Sweet man. Maybe in a little while I can give you a little show. We'll all go skinny-dipping. The four of us. What do you think of that?"
"That sounds nice. But I don't think Donna will go for it."
"Maybe she will, Fred. You can never tell about women."
He could tell something about them. Pam had placed her hand on his thigh and was playing with the tiny hairs on his leg. She seemed to have no inhibitions about touching him, whatsoever. Maybe there really was going to be a wife-swap!
Halfway through the third martini, Donna was starting to get light-headed. She was feeling good, but her mental faculties were slightly out of sync. They weren't working at the same acuteness that she was used to.
Nevertheless, the alcohol had served to relax her. She yawned and stretched her hands above her head. She closed her eyes for only a second, but soon felt a hand on her thighs. She looked down and noticed that Keith's palms were sliding up and down her legs. And incredibly, they occasionally slid between them. She wanted to protest, but for some odd reason it felt absolutely delicious.
Things really became interesting when he whispered in her ear, "You know, I'd love to see what you look like completely nude. Have you ever gone skinny-dipping before? Why don't we try it, huh?"
She should have been shocked by this request, but instead she laughed. "Me? Go skinny-dipping. You must be joking. I couldn't possibly do something like that."
"Aw come on. Loosen up a little. We're neighbors. You might as well enjoy the pool."
"My goodness. No."
"Donna, I bet that you have the prettiest titties this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Anybody ever tell you that?"
She blushed deeply. She realized that she was discussing a very intimate subject with a black man. "No. I bet there's a lot of women with breasts prettier than mine."
He smiled broadly and said, "Well, there's only one way to tell. Why don't we have a titty comparison contest between you and Pam?"
"Oh Keith! Really. I couldn't possibly."
He snapped his fingers, thus indicating to Pam that the secret word had been passed. She turned her head and shouted, "Did someone suggest a titty-comparison contest?"
Donna bit her lower lip. She couldn't believe that she'd been overheard. She worried that Pam would kill her for discussing such an intimate subject with her husband.
Instead, Pam exclaimed, "Why not! I'll put my titties up against anybody's anyday. C'mon Donna. Let's show these men."
The blonde was flabbergasted. She didn't know what to say. Now she knew that she had drunk too much. Things like this weren't supposed to happen.
"C'mon!" Pam repeated. "Let's show these men exactly what kind of equipment we've got."
"I really don't think I should," said Donna.
"C'mon." Pam was already standing up and removing one strap.
Fred, sympathized with his wife, but wasn't about ready to stop the proceedings. No way. No how. If it meant that she had to remove her bikini top and appear nude, well so be it. She needed a little loosening up anyway. The experience would do her good.
Pam's straps dropped down from her lovely shoulders. And inch by inch the tops of her magnificent breasts were revealed. Slowly the aureola appeared, and then the nipples themselves. She lowered her top as provocatively and as seductively as possible, making sure that Fred had the best seat in the house.
When the breasts were completely revealed, Keith poked Fred in the ribs and asked, "What do you think? Nice pair, eh?"
Fred gulped. They were everything that he could have ever hoped for. Large. Firm. Without any sag whatsoever. Just yearning to be touched, begging to be licked, hungering to be sucked. Moreover, they had no suntan lines. Just as he had suspected, she was unafraid to sunbathe in the nude.
He especially liked the large aureola and nipples. They were appropriate on her large breasts and seemed to be staring him right in the eyes. They looked like headlights- large brown headlights.
He was surprised to hear Keith say, "Go ahead. Touch them. They're real. Honest."
Fred's heart was in his throat. His stomach was all butterflies and quivery. There was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to feel those breasts. But how could he? His wife was standing only a few feet away. He looked at her, and then back at Pam. And then from Pam, back to his wife.
Donna appeared to be slightly drunk and was having some trouble standing on her feet. This was so unlike her. She very seldom drank too much at a party or a social gathering. As a matter of fact, she could hold liquor better than he could.
He looked back at Pam and noticed that she was smiling and luring him on-as were the breasts-as were the nipples.
He again looked at his wife, seeking some sort of approval, but she had a glazed, tipsy expression on her face which was a mixture of happiness and being stoned.
He turned his attention back to Pam's breasts. He noticed that she had moved het hand up to the left nipple and was gently tweaking it. He decided to go ahead feel the type of breast which he had been dreaming about since puberty.
The breasts were drawing him closer, as if they contained a tractor beam. The nipples were casting a magic spell on him, as if they were a pair of ruby eyes. In a happy trance, he lifted his arms, extended his hands, and gently squeezed.
She giggled at the first contact. "Ooo! You have nice hands. I like that."
He felt like a schoolboy. He never realized that another woman's breast flesh could be so tantalizing. He squeezed again, and again, and again. He pretended that he was playing with firm bread dough. He was kneading, petting, and stroking-satisfying a lifetime fantasy.
"You like them, don't you?" she asked.
He could only nod his head in agreement.
"You can play with them all you want," she said. She then turned to Donna and said with a smile. "Okay. It's your turn next. C'mon, let's see those titties."
Donna felt a combination of shame and exhilaration. The alcohol had numbed her senses. If she were still living in her small Southern town she would have walked away in anger from the scene in front of her. But things were different here. Her husband was behaving differently than he had ever before. And the black man didn't seem like such a bad fellow. He just seemed like a normal man. Albeit, a very large and very handsome one.
Her hand drifted to her shoulder and lingered for a moment or two. Should she, or shouldn't she? She knew that she shouldn't remove her top, but for some reason the game seemed harmless. Besides, her husband should be the one to complain, bur he was too busy feeling up Pam.
Donna was sure that things wouldn't get out of hand. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
She lowered her straps, and just as Pam had done, seductively wiggled her titties out of the confines of the swimming suit. The two grapefruit sized breasts plopped free, and the perky little nipples sprang to life for everyone to see.
Pam looked at them and said, "Goodness. Those are pretty little things. They're just the right size for playing with." She turned to Fred and asked, "Do you play with them often, honey?"
The word "honey" mildly shocked him. No one other than his wife had ever called him that. Of course, he had never played with another woman's breasts, either. He smiled and said, "Yea. I guess so. Sure I play with them.
Keith immediately reached forward and began fingering the underside of the right one. He moved his fingertip from the base of the breast to the aureola, to the nipple, and then trailed his finger back under to the initial spot of contact.
Donna didn't know how to respond. She gulped loudly and almost swallowed her tongue. Here was a black man fondling her beautiful white breasts. But he handled them with such finesse and such expertise that it didn't seem the least bit inappropriate. In fact, he was so agile and adept with his hands that she soon relaxed completely.
Donna noticed that her nipples had hardened into little diamond peaks and were straining outward with erotic anticipation. Her titties were sending sexual alarms throughout her body, coursing all the way down to her tummy, causing it to move in and out in excited little tremors, and then down further to that private chamber between her thighs.
She couldn't get over the fact that she had lived in Springdale for only a matter of a couple of days, and yet here she was exposing herself to a black man and his spouse. Things were certainly a lot different here than they were in her small Southern town.
Meanwhile, Fred started to bounce Pam's breasts as if they were bean hags, while Keith continued fondling Donna's. The degree of each man's sexual experience was quite evident by the way that they handled each woman's tits.
Keith was using his black hands like a masterful masseuse would, with soothing finesse, working to stimulate the entire body. Whereas Fred merely saw tits as appendages that should be bounced around for several hours.
When Pam heard Donna sigh with a loud audible, "Ahhhhh!" she knew that another phase of her plan could be implemented.
CHAPTER SIX
Pam Suggested, "Okay, boy.. It's rime for you to remove your terrytops. Fair is fair. Everybody has to be topless."
In a matter of moments, everyone was.
With all four of them nude from the waist up, Pam made another suggestion. "Let's put on a little music and dance beside the pool. How about it?"
"That sounds great," replied Fred, still happy as a schoolboy. "Let's do that."
"However, there's only one rule," Pam replied.
"What's that?" asked Donna with a slight amount of concern in her voice.
"You can't dance with your spouse. Agreed."
Keith immediately said, "Agreed."
Fred and Donna looked at each other, but didn't say anything. After all, he was hungry for voluptuous Pam, and Donna was beginning to lose her inhibitions about standing topless in the presence of a black man.
Pam walked over and turned on the stereo. A soft melody with a distinctive sexual beat started drifting through the night air. She returned to Fred's side and wrapped her arms around his waist. She delicately mashed her breasts against his chest, wiggling her nipples against his chest hair in the process. "Mmm. I just love the feel of a hairy chest," she said. "As you can see, Keith doesn't have much."
Fred looked over and noted that she was correct: her husband didn't have very much chest hair. But he was covered with so many muscles that it really didn't matter. His manliness couldn't be questioned.
Fred loved the feel of Pam's large, firm breasts against his chest. They reminded him of warm water balloons having a little hard cherry in the middle. There was something exciting about having another woman's naked breasts rubbing against his flesh. He had never experienced anything like it before, and he came to the conclusion that variety truly did heighten the sexual experience.
Meanwhile, Donna sauntered over and stood directly in front of Keith. She looked up and saw his magnificently handsome black face and was eroticized by the presence of his chiseled muscular body. She had always appreciated muscles on a man, and Keith was a fine example of musculature and manhood combined together.
She stepped forward, just close enough to keep her nipples an inch or so away from his chest. But he took the initiative, stepping forward to mash his chest against her breasts.
"Oooh!" she gasped. Her rock-hard nipples tickled against his manly flesh, flashing a sexual charge downward to the base of her tummy.
He looked down and savored her delightful breasts, and then down lower to the bikini bottom that she wore. He knew that in only a matter of hours he would be plugging away at that sweet little blonde-haired cunt of hers with his mighty black shaft.
He chuckled to himself. Here was this little lady from the Deep South who was dancing topless for the first time in her life, and pressing her lovely white breasts against the flesh of a black man for the first time as well. Soon she would lower her last remaining defenses and thrill to the experience of her first black fuck. He couldn't wait to see her eyes round into blue little orbs of surprise when he shot a load of sperm into her tight little cunt. After all, the one thing that he never compromised on was withdrawing at the moment of release.
Donna figured that the best policy was: When in Rome do as the Romans do. She danced demurely, not sure what to do with her hands, so she kept them at her side. She was wearing only the briefest of bikini bottoms and trying very hard to stay a respectable distance away from Keith's well- packed briefs.
She looked over and saw that Pam and Fred were dancing closely and erotically. He had lowered his hand downward so that his palm cupped her shapely buttocks. And she, in turn, had her hands cupped around his. They were giggling laughing, and having a good time.
Pam whispered in his ear, "I can tell that you're enjoying this dance."
"How's that?" he asked.
"Because your pecker is getting stiff."
"I'm sorry," he said, apologizing and trying to pull away.
"Don't be. I like it stiff. In fact, it's got to be stiff for what we have in store later." She drew him even closer to her body and began grinding her pelvis against his with unmistakable sexual interest. "Do you like that?" she asked.
"That's a foolish question, silly girl. There isn't a man on this planet who wouldn't."
"I bet you wouldn't say that if you were dancing with our other neighbor."
"Why? Is she a dog?"
"Yep. A real ugly bow-wow."
"Remind me not to attend any of her pool parties," he replied.
"You're a very good dancer. What else are you good at?" she asked suggestively while fitting her crotch more snuggly against his.
"I'm good at a lot of things, but I feel that there's always room for improvement."
"Isn't that interesting," she said teasingly. "I'm good at a lot of things too. I bet there's a few things that we could do together."
He broke into a broad grin. "I'm very sure of it," he replied as he experimentally thrust his pelvis forward, testing to see if there would be a like response.
He was glad to feel that there was.
On the other side of the pool Donna was still dancing with Keith. She felt his hands on her back and on her shoulder blades, hugging her closer to him. And then, the large hands drifted down to her lower back.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "You have a magnificent body, Donna. You should display more of it."
She merely replied, "Thank you. I'm glad that you like it. I try to keep it in shape by eating the right foods, getting plenty of fresh air, and walking the straight and narrow path."
"Good for you. I'm glad that there's women like you doing the right thing all the time."
She giggled. "I'm not sure that dancing topless is the right thing."
"Oh nonsense. This is the 1990's, not the Deep South of the 1950's anymore."
She smiled. "You know, my husband said those exact same words to me before we came out here. Isn't that a coincidence?"
He decided to place some extra emphasis on the statement. "It's more than a coincidence, Donna. I think that it's prophetic."
She stopped her dancing and looked up into his eyes. "Do you really think so? Truly?"
He narrowed his eyes and looked at her levelly. He said in his best soothsayer voice, "I sense that you're a very special person, sent for a very special purpose. I sense that many things will be revealed to you tonight, provided that you allow events to unfold as they should."
He bent down and kissed her fully on the lips. He didn't want her asking too many questions about his mysterious soothsayer routine. Talking was the worst possible way to spend time with a beautiful woman. If she wanted to talk about cosmic meanings, she could do it later with her legs spread wide. They could discuss the cosmic meaning of interracial fucking.
She felt the large lips touch hers. She hadn't been kissed by another man other than her husband since her wedding day. And she had never been kissed by a man of another race.
Mmmm. She relaxed and enjoyed it. The taste of his lips was exotic, and made her hunger to taste him elsewhere.
She kept wondering why she was behaving this way. Was she on the way to becoming a slut? She had always wanted to experiment sexually, but she had never contemplated any scenario like this.
And yet, it was thrilling! It was exciting! Something naughty was taking place in the backyard and she didn't want to stop it and walk away. Besides, Keith said that the universe would be revealed to her tonight. That was reason enough to stay.
He had lowered his hands to her shapely buttocks and was squeezing her lower torso against his. He sensed that the time was right to begin pressing home the point.
Uh oh! She could feel it. His penis was beginning to distend and grow hard against her lower belly. Right there beneath her abdomen and above her vagina. Right on ground zero of her clitoris. If she kept dancing close ro him, she would definitely get turned-on and possibly lose all control of her sensibilities. A penis burrowing against her clit always turned her into a wanton woman.
Compounding the problem was the fact that she had one of the most sensitive clits in existence. All she had to do was touch it with her finger and she could bring herself off. And here she was, having her pubic region manipulated by another man's penis. Worse yet-by a negro's hardening shaft.
And yet, she wasn't afraid of him anymore. She wanted it touched. And she was starting to want much more.
At that moment, Pam looked over and realized that the time had come to proceed to the next stage of the plan. She shouted, "Okay. Now that we've had a display of our upper bodies, lets have a little inspection of the lower half. Come on. It's time to go all the way and discard those last vestiges of clothing."
Donna's mind was a blur. Was this the way the universe would unfold itself to her.' Surely the simple act of disrobing wasn't a cosmic event. But then, maybe it was! After all, Adam and Eve even got their nudity mentioned in the Bible!
She turned and watched Pam lower the bottom half of her bikini down her long legs. The brunette beauty seemed to be taking an extremely long time. But then, Donna noticed that everything seemed to be occurring in slow motion. Even when Pam kicked the bikini away with her exit it seemed like an NFL Slo-Mo replay. And when she saw Pam standing before her completely nude, it seemed perfectly natural and appropriate.
Fred looked at the brunette and exclaimed, "Wow! You really do have an all-over sun-tan."
She giggled and said, "It takes a lot of hours lying in this back yard on a beach towel to get my body like this." She turned around slowly so that he could see all of her.
He feasted his eyes on her nudity. She had a darker complexion than his wife and it was thrilling to note the differences in the size of the breasts and the shape of the hips. Even the shape of the belly was different-equally erotic, but in a different way.
Keith stepped over and put an arm around her. He said, "She is one magnificent looking creature, isn't she?" With his right hand wrapped around her shoulders, he pointed with his left and said, "Look at these breasts and this firm, flat tummy. And look at this. Her vagina is just gorgeous, don't you think?"
Fred was shaking his head approvingly. It was like Keith was presenting her at a slave auction, with each individual part highlighted and commented upon for a higher bid.
Fred was most impressed by her symmetry. For a large woman this was truly amazing. Most had bodies which were not symmetrical-something sagged somewhere. It could be a breast, both breasts, or the ass. But not on Pam. Not in the slightest.
Remarkably, she didn't seem to mind the auction block type of presentation. She relished it. After a while, she smiled and said, "Come on, Donna. It's time for you to display your wares."
Donna hesitated a second, and then slowly slipped her hand beneath the bikini bottom and began drawing them down ever so slightly. She looked up at her husband, and then over at Pam. Rut she couldn't bring herself to look at the black visage of Keith. For some reason, she knew that she would be extremely turned on if she saw him watching her.
She closed her eyes and drew the panties down her firm thighs. Inch by scrumptious inch, until they got to her kneecaps, where they fell on their own. She felt a rush of cool air against her coiffured bush, and the rustle of her tiny pubic hairs.
Fred walked over and held her the same way that Keith had held Pam. "Well, here she is. Here's my little darling."
She managed a slight smile, but didn't know if it was appropriate.
Pam whistled and said, "Mmm. You've got a lovely body. You truly do keep in remarkably good shape."
The comment made her day. She had worked so hard trying to get her body into superb condition. At long last it was appreciated by someone. Maybe there was something good to say about nudity after all.
Keith looked at her naked body as well. He normally didn't like white women who didn't have a tan, but her skin was even and blemish free. Nothing marred her beauty. She looked like the girl next door who was displaying her nakedness for the very first time. Sort of like Eve stepping out of the Garden of Eden. And she had the cutest little pussy that he had ever seen.
Pam looked at it and asked, "Donna. Do you give your pussy a haircut?"
She blushed. "Yes. I like to keep it looking neat."
"Why didn't I ever think of that!" Pam exclaimed. "That's a terrific idea."
Donna started feeling better about her nudity. In fact, she was very proud of the lovely little bush between her thighs. She started speaking about it in detail. "I like to trim it every other day to keep away any unsightly hairs. I also wash it with the best conditioner that I can buy to keep it soft."
Keith realized that this was a clue. He immediately stepped forward and said, "Really? Can I touch it?"
Donna, who was always ready to present her coiffured cuts for appraisal, thrust her pubis forward and said, "Sure. Have a feel." After all, she was very proud of her pussy.
Keith stepped close, lowered his hand, and slowly petted the inside of her thigh. "Hmm. You also very smooth legs. I like that on a woman."
Waves of pleasure were rippling through her body, emanating outward from the point of contact.
Fred looked over and couldn't believe how erotic the sight was of a black man feeling between his wife's shapely white thighs. He watched the black hand move upward and gently cup the beautiful little blonde patch. It rubbed over and along the Mound of Venus, softly touching it, gently stroking it, and feeling it.
Pam cuddled close to Fred and whispered in his ear, "It's exciting watching another man touch your wife, isn't it?"
"Yes," he replied with a noticeable shortness of breath. "I never knew that it could be like this."
While the black index finger tickled below, the thumb slipped along the crease of the pussy. As if commenting about the handling of a new automobile, Keith said, "It's got a real nice feel to it, all right."
"Thank you," she replied.
He could feel her inner recesses were already moist with feminine secretions, proving that she was excited by the proceedings. He ran his index finger along its length and dipped his forefinger into her liquid depths.
The alcohol had gotten to Donna. She was feeling good about everything taking place around her. Her nipples were as hard as diamonds and her breath was coming in short little gasps. With each passing moment she was becoming more sexually aroused.
She hated to admit it, but she had never been this turned on with Fred. Perhaps it was because marriage inhibited true sexual liberation and fulfillment. Maybe it was only outside the confines of matrimony that a woman could have her physical needs satisfied. Maybe that's what the great hedonistic and pagan civilizations of the ancient world had learned. Maybe that's why adultery persisted alongside matrimony, and prostitutes were always within walking distance of an altar.
Her mind was beginning to accept the inevitable. She relaxed her body and enjoyed the physical sensations of having a masterful hand probe at her sensitive groin.
Mmmm! It felt delicious.
Pam saw that Donna was almost ready for her initiation into interracial sex. But she was an expert on these types of situations and was aware that one shouldn't push matters. A woman's sexual gratification should not be rushed. Too many men forced matters, and as a consequence wound up with cruel frigid bitches who faked orgasms and merely dallied in the mechanics of sex.
"C'mon everybody," she called. "Let's sit down at the picnic table. Oh! And Donna, I want you to sit next to me." She knew that the men would become sexually excited by the vision of two naked honeys sitting directly across from them.
Donna didn't want the manual inspection of her pussy to cease because she was enjoying it so. But she figured that it was probably a good thing. After all, she needed a few moments to relax and catch her breath. She reluctantly followed Keith to the picnic table.
She sat across from Keith while Pam sat across from Fred. The table had a glass tabletop so everyone could see each other's genitals. Fred was having the time of his life surveying Pam's body. And she was providing him with an excellent view of her entire crotch. In fact, she sat so that her pubic region was thrust forward slightly. And to make sure that everything was clearly visible, she spread her tan thighs slightly.
Fred didn't know whether to watch her lovely cunt or gaze at her beautiful tits, which hung out nicely over the tabletop and jiggled delightfully when she laughed, giggled, or moved her arm.
Keith, in turn, admired Donna's succulent little body. He couldn't get over the tiny waist. He wondered if one could see the outline of a dick in her belly when she was being reamed. He would have to check that out once he slid his massive pole into her.
He looked lower and savored the sight of her pretty pussy. She was keeping her thighs close together in a meek attempt to keep it hidden. Bur he could see enough to make him salivate.
He had to admit that he liked the coiffured look. He would have to talk Pam into getting hers trimmed. Maybe later the women would oblige with a demonstration. It would certainly be an erotic sight. The lovely blonde, crotched over, sitting between the brunette's thighs, snipping away on her curly pubic hairs.
With that salacious thought in mind, it wasn't long before he began developing an erection. The organ rose to half-mast, and then three-quarters, and then above the level of his lap.
Donna looked over and watched it rise. She couldn't believe its size. It was already as large as a rolling pin and growing larger by the minute. His huge appendage just kept growing and growing and growing. Her blue eyes locked on the black tube of flesh, hypnotized by its enormity. When it was fully erect it looked like a Saturn V rocket standing up on a launch pad ready for blast-off. It was as big around as her wrist and nearly one foot in length. It looked like it contained a quart of blood and could squirt a pint of sperm.
Pam realized that she would have to draw Fred into the conversation to keep up his self-confidence. She frequently had to do this whenever Keith developed an erection in the presence of other men. After all, most were intimidated by such a monstrous piece of manhood.
In order to make certain that Fred also developed an erection, she reached down between her thighs and began petting her pussy. He watched her hand with keen interest and smiled. Within only a matter of seconds his organ began to rise. Of course, it was nothing compared with Keith's, but it wasn't a tadpole either.
When it was fully distended Pam smiled, blew him several kisses, and suggestively winked. She leaned over and whispered in Donna's ear, "Look. The boys have sprouted something from their gardens."
Donna smiled and said, "Yes. I can see."
Pam said to her, "You know, I don't think my husband's erection is for me. I think it has your name written on it."
Donna giggled. She was feeling brazenly wanton. She realized that something extraordinary was going to take place, and it was quite apparent that she would be the centerpiece in a wife-swapping event.
Her suspicions were confined when Pam whispered, "Have you ever had a black dick burrowing into you, Donna?"
"No," she replied softly, almost ashamed to admit that she hadn't participated in the joys of interracial sex before.
"It's just like a white one, except that it's a little darker in color, a little harder, and lasts a lot longer."
Donna's tongue was nearly stuck in her throat. Her heart was beating rapidly. Her pulse was racing. She didn't know what to say or what to do. She only knew that she wanted sex with someone- anyone-as soon as possible. The mouth of het vagina had long since opened wide and was yearning to be filled with something long and hard.
Keith reached under the table and began petting her thighs. He understood the amount of frustration she must feel. The poor girl had to shed the remaining vestiges of bigotry before she could cross the threshold into a new and glorious world of sexual abandonment with a member of another race. It was truly akin to a leap of faith.
Pam also understood the dilemma that her new neighbor was going through. After all, she had once had to do the same herself. She knew how tough it was to shed old vestiges of prejudice. Yet it had to be done.
She decided that now was the time to leave Donna and Keith alone. She got up, walked around the table, and tapped Fred on the shoulder. She led him by the hand to a nearby loveseat. She told him to sit, and then she sat on his lap. She smiled when she saw the look on his face. All men got that dopey look on their face when they realized that they were going to have sex with a beautiful woman. They always looked like little boys ready to open a surprise package.
She grabbed his cock and began to lovingly massage it. "Do you have a name for this fine piece of anatomy?" she asked.
"A name? What do you mean?"
"Keith calls his 'Peter'."
Fred caught on to her little joke and said, "Well then, I guess I call mine 'Dick'."
She looked down and pretended to talk to it. "Hello, Dick. We haven't met before, but you look like a nice fellow. Would you like to be my friend?"
Pre-ejaculatory semen was beginning to ooze out of the tip. Pam noticed it and said, "Aw! The poor little fellow seems to be crying. Is he in pain?"
"He's positively throbbing with it," Fred replied with bated brearh.
"The poor darling needs some loving. Here, let me bend down and give it a kiss."
Donna looked over and even in her inebriated state couldn't believe what she was seeing. Another woman had her lips wrapped around her husband's dick! She felt a sudden rush of jealousy mixed with anger and realized that two could play at this game. She got up from the picnic table, headed around to Keith, and sat her lovely body down on his strong lap. She prepared to reach for his cock, but was surprised to see that it was standing so tall it poked her in the underside of her left breast.
She couldn't believe it! She had no idea that a penis could grow so long. And there was no way that she could wrap just one hand around it as Pam was doing with Fred. She had to utilize both hands in order to properly massage the throbbing black organ.
Keith whispered in her ear and joked, "It takes two hands to handle a whopper, doesn't it?" She smiled. She was having fun.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Earlier in the evening, Bart had positioned himself by his bedroom window with his ever-present bag of corn curls. When he saw Fred and Donna first arrive he said, "Ooo my! What kind of a little blonde dish do we have here? She certainly looks like the wholesome type. What's she doing at Pam and Keith's?"
He pulled out his trusty binoculars and surveyed the blonde closely. He couldn't get over how pretty she was. She seemed so innocent. She seemed so sweet.
For the first twenty minutes or so, she faced away from him, so all he got to look at was her backside. But that was enough. She was one of those rare type of women who had a lovely back. It was free of love handles, any noticeable tilt toward the left or right, and was as firm as her little tummy.
A lot could be said for a woman's back. Its beautiful aspects were frequently overlooked by men. Probably because men were always preoccupied with the frontal equipment. Yet, over the years, he had been able to detect a beautiful woman by the appearance of her backside. Once he got a good look at her shoulder blades and spinal column, he could predict with accuracy what her breasts, stomach, and pelvic region would look like.
There was no real trick to it. A woman with a shapely back frequently stood straight and erect. As a result, her posture was generally perfect, like that of Grace Kelly. And if the posture was good, and the woman was in good physical shape, then breasts usually remained uptilted and savory. Whereas if the posture was poor, the breasts usually hung down prematurely. Poor posture also led to the development of fat guts-perhaps the ugliest and most unsightly attribute a woman could acquire.
Bart realized that he wasn't one who should talk about other's posture. His was about as bad as they came. His back resembled a question mark and his gut was similar to that of a beached whale. It was so large that he had to reach around it in order to hold his penis to take a leak.
After a while, he noticed that Pam and the blonde had removed their bikini tops. "Oh yea! Now we're getting somewhere," he said. "Let's see those titties."
He was treated to an appreciative view of two of the most gorgeous sets of knockers on any women anywhere. They were certainly as good as those depicted in his girlie magazines.
"Mmmm. I just love large nipples on gorgeous women," he said as he grabbed a cupcake. He stuffed it into his mouth and reached down and unzipped himself. He wanted to be ready. After all, beating off while spying on Pam was his hobby.
He was surprised to see both women remove their bikini bottoms. They stood bare-assed naked in front of the men as if displaying themselves for a wife-swap.
"Wow!" he exclaimed as he grabbed some pretzels. "I'd always heard about these things, but I'd never seen one. I thought that they were a thing of the past. Wow! Wow! Wow!"
When Keith walked over and began pointing to Pam's titties, as if pointing out the good points on a used car, Bart nearly swallowed his tongue.
"Holy shit! This is going to be the best beat-off
I've ever had! It's shaping up to be better than a porno movie."
He reached for several bags of corn puffs and pork rinds, and said, "It's going to be a great evening."
Meanwhile, Liz was also peeking out her window. She too had noticed that Pam and Keith had a pair of visitors.
"Wow!" she said aloud. "Who's that gorgeous looking blonde? She looks like a living, breathing angel."
For years she had known that she had latent lesbian tendencies. This was proven by her intense arousal whenever she saw Pam's nude body. No man ever set her hormones aflame like that. Never! Regardless of the size of his penis or the color of his skin!
But the little blonde dish standing on the patio had awakened some new, deeper passions which she never knew existed before. Her eyes focused on the trim little tummy and the shapely derriere. They were the best that she'd ever seen.
Suddenly, beads of perspiration began to form on her forehead, and a nervous quivering ran up and down her spine. Her head started to feel light-as if she were experiencing oxygen depletion. Her stomach started to flutter-as if she were experiencing stage fright. But most importantly, her vagina started to throb like it had never throbbed before. The sight of the beautiful blonde had caused her to reach a plateau of sexual arousal akin to the climax stage of a spontaneous orgasm. She felt better than when she beat Bart over the head with a newspaper.
Liz couldn't stand the thought of remaining in her clothes one moment longer She quickly disrobed, throwing everything helter-skelter across her room. When she was completely nude she rushed to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and sought out her vibrator.
"Oh fuck! Oh shit! oh piss!" she screamed in desperation. "Where is it? Where's my little friend? I've got to have it? I remember putting it back in here this morning. I know I did."
The dresser drawers were yanked out-one after the other-and their contents dumped out. After a frantic search of several minutes, she found it buried beneath a pile of bras. With her room in complete disarray and her clothing scattered everywhere-on the bed, on the floor, on the lamps--she checked to make sure that the batteries were charged. After all, there's nothing worse than a vibrator that won't vibrate.
"Thank god you're all right,' she said as if talking to a child.
With the treasured object in hand, she dashed back to the window and positioned herself in the chair for the best view possible. She kissed the tip of the vibrator, spread her thighs, and lowered it between them.
"Ah!" she moaned. "It's going to be a great evening."
Although she didn't know it, at that very moment, Bart was also discarding his clothing and positioning himself for a good view of the proceedings. Hence, husband and wife stood at adjoining windows in the timeless tradition of sexually starved voyeurs watching other participants in the game of love. Their eyes were open wide, and their breath came in short little gasps, as each worked at his or her crotch at the same time.
Some people truly were made for each other.
Remarkably, neither Bart no Liz believed that their masturbation secret had been discovered. However, nothing could be further from the truth. Pam had witnessed their ritual dozens of times. She thought that they looked positively repulsive peeking out from behind the window, working their hands furiously at their groins. But she never said anything. She figured that the more sperm which was spilled, and the more exhausted they got, the less likely they were to produce ugly children.
Hence, Pam saw herself as benefiting the entire human species.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Keith realized that the time had come to get down to business. His dick was throbbing with passion and needed release. His balls were beginning to boil and roll.
Donna noticed that his massive body was completely relaxed. She looked at him and again admired his dark rippling muscles. She knew what was coming. She knew what was expected of her. She waited patiently and tried not to show her nervous excitement.
He reached down and touched her shapely calf with his calloused fingers. However, instead of bringing his hand upward toward her very core, he felt his way downward to her small ankle, slowly, knowingly, and teasingly. He stroked it gently and appreciatively as one might an art object. He knew that if a man wanted a woman to become a seething sexual inferno, many small fires had to be ignited in various distant points of her body. A woman's earlobe needed as much attention as her nipple. Her eyebrow needed to be stroked and admired just as much as her tummy. Pam said it best: "A man who pays attention to detail, is a man who never fails to get tail."
Keith lightly touched Donna's Achilles tendon with just enough pressure to acknowledge its existence. He then ran his palm along the smooth backside of her calf. He liked its shape. It was dainty compared to Pam's, but nevertheless it was extremely erotic. He made small circles on her skin with his forefinger, gently massaging the flesh.
She felt the gentle scraping of his fingers through her entire being. Her mind, body, and spirit were becoming sexually fine-tuned. She had no idea that this kind of foreplay could be so sensual. Why hadn't she learned this before? Why hadn't her husband ever taken the time to do this? Why didn't they teach this in school? It was a fuck of a lot better and more useful than geography and social studies.
She watched his extended finger make tiny circles, and began to think of it as if it were an animal. She giggled aloud at the thought.
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
"Your forefinger reminds me of A little black snake."
"That's a good analogy. You can think of it as doing preliminary scouting for the big black snake which resides between my legs."
She smiled, knowing that she would soon get to know it intimately.
"You have such a lovely complexion," he said.
"Thank you," she replied.
"I didn't know white women could have such lovely skin."
"Any woman can have beautiful skin so long as she cares for it. Skin will never age as long as you don't overexpose it to the sun."
"I know. You mentioned that before."
"I'm sorry for repeating myself."
"Don't be. I admire your knowledge on the subject. I'm just very curious why you don't have a pale complexion?" He moved his finger from her calf to the back of her knee. As before, he moved his finger with an expert's finesse.
"Paleness is the result of improper nutrition, or an imbalanced diet, or illness. As long as a person eats right and stays fit, skin will have a healthy appearance."
"That's very interesting," he said. However, discussing skin vitality was not what he had in mind for the evening. His nails moved back down to her calves again, where he began massaging them with slightly more pressure than before.
He was amazed at how smooth her flesh was. This was one of the things he liked most about blondes. Hair could be removed without leaving any stubble. Although Pam had equally smooth and beautiful legs, she occasionally had rough calves if she didn't shave them regularly.
"I like what you're doing," she said. "It feels nice. No man has ever taken this much time with me before."
"A woman like you deserves to be handled with loving tenderness," he replied.
"Mmmm. Where did you learn this technique?"
"I suppose I could be a lying braggart and say that I learned it on my own. But that isn't the truth. Most everything I know about sex, I learned from Pam. She took the macho out of me, and put the lover in. She sanded my rough edges down and left me with a fine finish."
"Mmmm. I think that it's nice that she taught you to consider a woman's needs."
"A woman's needs are no different than a man's. We differ only in the amount of time we need for them to be fulfilled." He moved his hand back up past her knee, then onto her thigh."
"Mmmm. You're so wise."
While gently massaging her thigh he said, "I still can't get over how gorgeous your skin is."
"Mmmm. I appreciate these compliments, but don't you think that Pam has attractive skin?"
"Of course I do. It's just that the contrast between yours and mine is more stark than between mine and hers. She's more of a Cajun, whereas you're more of a Southern belle."
She relaxed and allowed the hand to roam freely over her long leg. She wanted him to take his time- as long as he needed. As far as she was concerned, they were the only two people on the planet and they had all the time in the world.
She watched his hand move to the mid-point of her inner thigh. A smile crossed her face when she thought about the irony of the situation. She was the descendant of a slave owner and yet she was lying nude beside the descendant of a slave. Her husband had been right. It was best to leave the past behind. This was a new age. Things had changed.
She saw the hand move from her inner thigh to a spot just below the juncture of her legs. She was sure that he would proceed onward.
But instead, he let it rest there for a moment before saying, "I especially like this expanse of skin right here."
She looked down and saw his black hand only inches from her pubis, preparing to claim possession of that prize. She opened her legs slightly to welcome his fingers up as far as they would go. Her thigh began to tremble-almost invisibly. And she began to perspire slightly from the sweet anticipation. A sweet muskiness wafted from her cunt and scented the air.
She watched him inhale and saw the wide nostrils flare. Coincidentally, at that very instant her vaginal lips flared as well.
His fingernails nails had reached close to the juncture of her legs. They slid off the smooth skin of her inner thigh and onto the soft pubis itself. His large hand was now centered at the very core of her being. He wiggled his forefinger back and forth, lightly touching the pubic hair covering her Mound of Venus.
He held her close and whispered in her ear, "I admire your expertise with scissors. You have to be very gentle around this region of your body," he said as he pushed his middle finger downward through the little forest of fur, and lightly touched the opening of her cunt.
"I've always been very careful," she said, holding her breath, almost delirious with rapture.
"I want you to continue being careful in the future," he said as he touched one of her outer lips.
"Why?"
"Because I intend to invite you and your husband to many, many pool parties."
"What if I don't accept your invitations?" she said, trying to sound serious, but failing miserably.
He slid his finger upward along her cuntal slit and then spread the outer lips, exposing the clitoris. He flicked his finger expertly against it. "I get the distinct impression that you'll come running from now on."
She inhaled quickly and replied, "If nothing else, I'll...cum." She had to calm herself, because she was on the verge of an orgasmic release.
He was happy to see that she had a sense of humor. He decided to press forward with his carnal mission.
She watched in fascination as the large black fingers came together and tweaked the clitoris. "Oh my!" she cried out in shock and joy from the sensation.
"You like that, huh?" he asked as he did it again. "Oh yea," she swooned.
He nibbled on her earlobe and said softly, "I'll soon be giving you much better thrills than that."
She was wet and open in an instant. Her mouth had opened automatically and taken in a huge gasp of air. She knew that if he kept scraping and playing with her clit that she would achieve an explosive orgasm right there on the spot.
However, he moved his hand away. He knew that she was at a critical stage and didn't want to take her over the top just yet. He was meticulously calculating her seduction.
She was briefly frustrated. She wanted to grab his hand with both of hers and pull it back. She almost begged him. But she could only sit and watch it move away. She realized that he knew what he was doing. He was in command. All she could do was sit on his lap and wait for his next move.
He rose to his feet, towering above her like a skyscraper. "Shall we try the pool?" he asked.
"Anything you say," she replied.
"Anything I say?" he asked.
"Yes. I'll do anything."
He decided to tease her. "All right. Let's go out in the middle of the street and fuck on the center-line. We can wave at cars as they pass by. C'mon."
She looked at him and said with a grin, "All right."
He guessed that she was either so drunk from alcohol that she couldn't think straight, or so turned on from sexual foreplay that she meant what she said.
He refrained from leading her out into the middle of the street and giving the neighborhood a gander at interracial sex. He didn't think that Springdale was quite ready for blacks balling blondes in the middle of their roadways. Although he had to admit that it was a tempting idea.
Instead, he took her by the hand and walked with her to the pool. "Have you ever screwed in the water before?"
She shook her head. She was afraid to admit that it was one of her long-time fantasies. She frequently dreamed that she was a mermaid-like creature swimming in a warm sea of porpoise-like men who had large scaly penises. During the course of a given dream she would imagine herself being taken hundreds of times by the sea creatures-sometimes two, three, and four at a time. Invariably, she would wake-up covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
She never mentioned the dream to Fred, knowing that he would consider it sick and perverse. Yet she persisted in having it. Moreover, she didn't want it to stop.
Her husband never understood why she sometimes slept with a stuffed dolphin.
Keith broke her train of thought by saying, "I think that you'll find this experience most rewarding. It's one of the best turn-ons there is. Every American family should have a full-sized swimming pool in their backyard so that they can screw until the wee hours of the morning. It sure beats watching television."
He stepped down the concrete steps at the shallow end of the pool and carefully led her, step by step, into the pristine blue water. She shivered slightly as the water came up to her ankles, and then to her knees, and then to her thighs.
Once she realized that the pool was heated, she relaxed and moved with ease alongside him, ever aware of the black body beside her and the mission that they were here to perform.
When little waves were lapping at her already moist and open vagina, she sighed, "Mmmm. The water feels nice."
"Yes. I can't think of anything nicer than a heated swimming pool. It was the first thing that I had installed when we purchased this place."
It suddenly struck her that she didn't know what either he or Pam did for a living. Well, she wasn't about to ask him now. She might find out that he was a butcher, or that he operated a funeral parlor. Learning about such occupations would be a definite turn-off. She let the question remain unasked. She didn't want anything to bring her down from her extremely aroused state.
She looked over and saw that little waves were also lapping at his loose and hanging balls. She couldn't get over how large they were in comparison to her husband's.
Keith saw where she was looking and said, "Yes. I know I've got a big scrotum. So what?"
She decided to tease him. "Aren't you a little testy about the size of your testes?"
He smiled at her joke. "You don't think that they're too big?"
She looked down and watched them bob along the surface of the water for a minute or two. "They remind me of the ones I've seen on bulls grazing in a field. But they're not really too big-considering the size of the penis and the man which they're attached to. The poor things must work overtime just to achieve ejaculation."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because of the simple physics involved. They must pump a load of sperm through a foot-long dick, and goodness knows how many yards of tubing before they can blast it into a woman. Ounce for ounce, they must be as powerful as rocket engines."
He liked her analogy. "Every other woman thinks that they're too big-even Pam."
"Why should she complain? The bigger the balls; the bigger the load of sperm. I've always wished that Fred was better equipped because I love to feel semen being squirted into me. It makes me feel like a woman."
"I'll remember that later."
"Please do," she said with a smile."
They wadded together out to the four-foot marker at the middle of the pool and turned and faced each other. The warm water was now up to her rib cage.
He put his wet hands on her shoulders and slowly slid them forward toward each other across her shoulder blades. He ran his palms up and down her backside, wanting to make her feel loved and comfortable in his presence.
She felt the water trickle down her back and down the crevasse of her spine until it dripped into the water of the pool. The skin of her back and shoulders was tingling as he slowly drew her toward him.
Her mouth came open automatically as it neared his. She looked into his dark eyes for a second as his head came downward. She saw his black face encompass one-quarter, and then one-half, and then four-fifths of her field of vision. She had never noticed this feeling of being overwhelmed by Fred, because he was so similar in height to her. She felt good being dominated.
She felt Keith's lips join hers. They were still tart and cool with the taste of liquor and she savored them. They flowed over hers and claimed her mouth as his. His tongue came out-tentatively at first- testing her. And then it was urgently licking and probing. It laid claim to every square millimeter of her gums and teeth.
She was surprised to learn that it was much longer than her husband's. It slid far back into her throat. For a moment she thought that she was being kissed by a lizard.
To make certain that he understood her willingness to cooperate, she rounded her lips and began sucking on his intruding appendage. She was sending her own type of signal to him.
She felt his hands slide upward from her back to her shoulders. He gently gripped them and carefully pushed her away, breaking the kiss. Her back now rested against the smooth side of the warm pool. She noticed that the place was specially designed, perhaps custom-built for underwater sexual intercourse.
She wondered if this is where he fucked Pam. How many times had the lovely brunette been speared in this special place? And in what position? She found the mental image extremely sensual and erotic.
Donna noticed that her nipples were glowing in the light which came from the base of the pool. It gave them a brighter pink appearance and made them look that much more appetizing.
She searched Keith's face as he looked at her naked breasts. She noticed a strange mixture of animalistic lust and scholarly admiration.
"Ah! You have truly magnificent tits," he said.
She giggled. "Thank you, but personally I think your wife has lovelier ones."
"Well, they may be larger, but they're not as exquisite. Yours are like a painting."
"I hope not a Salvadore Dali," she teased.
"No. More like a Rembrandt, finely detailed and symmetrical." He admired her strawberry-colored aureolae, which stood out on a field of cream-colored flesh.
He moved her slightly now so that her body came deeper into the water. The warm liquid inched upward until it touched the very bottom of her nipples. He positioned her so that one-half of each was sticking out of the water, while the other half remained submerged.
She saw what he had done and said, "You really know how to turn a woman on, don't you?"
"I've had a lot of experience with my wife. She showed me this trick."
"I envy her."
"And I envy your husband," he replied. He bent forward and surrounded her left breast with his mouth.
"Ahhhh!" she moaned as she encircled his head with her arms. She felt the heat of his tongue mixed with the warmth of the water from the pool. He rotated his tongue around the small appendage, mixing warm and hot. The sensation was delicious. She alternately felt chilled and heated at the same time.
He moved his tongue above and below her nipple, touching it, swirling around it, and flicking it. And then he moved to the other, doing the same. The firm little buds hardened until she thought that they would burst from sexual excitement.
His hands had left her arms and had scraped down against her ribs. He loved the way that they were outlined faintly beneath her white flesh. Ribs could he seen only on women who were devoid of fat. Women who were overweight usually had ribs which were deeply buried.
He gently scraped her sides with his fingertips.
"That tickles," she giggled.
"Not as much as what I'm going to do to you in a few minutes," he replied with a knowing smile.
"And just what might that be?" she teased.
"If you don't have an idea, then you have a worse sex life than I imagined."
She watched him step very close to her. She felt a sudden rush of warm water around her pelvis. She put her small white hand against his immense black chest to keep him at a slight distance. She wanted to watch him take her.
She looked down through the rippling water and saw that he was huge and beautiful. She extended her hand and took the black protruding shaft into her palm. It felt different than her husband's. Of course it was larger, but it also had more veins and seemed to be harder. "Ah what do we have here?" she giggled like a schoolgirl. "It looks like a black submarine."
"That's right, and it's looking for a home port. Do you know of any around here?"
She surrounded the dark flesh with her fingers. She closed her eyes and shut off all of her senses except for those emanating from her palm. The object therein gave her a tremendous feeling of power, satisfaction, and warmth.
Ironically, she felt comforted while holding the pulsing appendage, in much the same way that a child does when holding a personal blanket. But she began to worry if she could actually take it into her. Could her vagina stretch wide enough to accept him? Would she be overcome with pain during the penetration? Would she be able to produce enough vaginal secretion for him to slide easily into and out of her love hole?
She was still pondering these important questions when she felt his hands on her back again. They were warm and wet against the exposed flesh. They slid downward into the water, and curved themselves around her firm and shapely buttocks.
"Mmm. You have a wonderful ass," he said. He couldn't stand a sagging rear end on a woman, nor could he tolerate a flabby one either. The buttocks were some of the easiest muscles to keep in shape, yet many women who did aerobics and exercised regularly neglected them. That was unfortunate, for shapely buttocks were truly an alluring feature on a female.
Donna wiggled hers back and forth sensually, gratefully acknowledging his compliment. She then tilted her pelvis forward slightly so that her pussy was only inches from his cock. Never before had it been so hungry to be filled. Never before had she yearned so desperately for penetration.
He saw the need written on her face and the burning desire in her eyes. He couldn't keep his passion quelled any longer. He slowly lifted her body, raising her slightly out of the water as if she didn't weighed more than a feather.
Her eyes looked upward into the sparkling clear night above her. She saw the stars and the moon and the constellations.
Yes! she thought excitedly. The universe is being unveiled to me. And it's in the form of a big black cock!
She looked lower and saw the serrated outline of the tops of the trees. She looked over Keith's powerful shoulders and saw her discarded bikini bottoms by the edge of the pool and his martini glass on the picnic table. She wanted to remember these images. They would be the ones she would recall later.
She felt her smooth white thighs being spread wide apart by his huge black hands. They were insistent and demanding that they open wide for him. She willingly spread them- wider than she ever had for sex. When she felt the tendons at the juncture of her legs strain, she knew that she couldn't open herself any more.
He looked at her and smiled. He placed his hand on her outer lips, and gently stroked her inner ones.
"Ahhh," she moaned
He slid his hands back under her buttocks, so that her body weight was resting on his forearms and wrists. He began to draw her to him, slowly. Her body was being lifted up and directed towards his pelvis.
She felt her wet legs begin their long journey around the sides of his muscular thighs and then back to circle his power-packed buttocks. She knew instinctively what to do. She locked her ankles behind him, scissoring him in the fleshy ring formed by her legs.
She felt the initial hard contact of his dark muscular male flesh against her white smooth female flesh. She felt the spongy head of his penis nuzzle against her slit. She felt it work up and down, seeking out a place in which to take refuge. She watched in hypnotic fascination as it sought out her entrance.
She smiled and asked, "Are you having difficulty finding the hole?"
"I know where it is. I'm just teasing you a little."
"I've had enough teasing. I'm ready for some relief," she sighed softly.
"Then aim yourself in my direction and I'll slip it in."
She aided him by tilting her pelvis so that the penis slipped between her labia. She gently twitched the lower half of her body back and forth, trying to get more of him into her.
He looked down and saw her vaginal lips attempting to wrap themselves around the head of his cock. He then glanced at her face and saw that it was a mask of iron concentration and unbridled lust.
He decided to tease her. "Maybe we ought to do this another time, huh? What do you say?"
"Oh dear god, no! Please don't say that," she pleaded desperately.
"Hey!" he said consolingly. "I was just kidding. I have no intention of stopping."
"Don't ever stop. Don't ever stop," she replied.
She felt her vagina spreading and widening to accommodate the width and strength of his enormous rod. She felt first the water rush in, and then the water being forced out as he wormed the first inch into her private chamber. Then her eyes again closed and she concentrated on nothing except the overwhelming immensity of the man slowly driving up inside of her.
A new man! A different man! Her first black man!
She felt the first inch squeak inside, and then another, followed by another.
"Ummm. I knew you'd be tight," he said, "but nothing like this."
She didn't reply. She was too delirious experiencing the sensation of another inch moving up her vagina.
Slowly, smoothly, triumphantly, he worked his way into her. She silently reveled as the inches slid inward, upward, and onward into her liquid depths. She couldn't believe how long he was taking to get into her. The experience seemed to go on forever. She thrilled that he was taking his time and marveled at the tremendous length and girth of his shaft. There seemed to be end to it, filling places which she didn't even know were hollow.
She was grateful that she had felt no pain. His prolonged foreplay had stimulated her to such an extent that she could have taken a bowling ball into her.
"Ohhh!" she moaned in ecstasy.
Another inch, and another inch, and another inch, moved into her. Burrowing, worming, spreading.
"Ooooo!" she sighed while straining her body against him. She was attempting to assist his forward journey as much as possible. His penis was hard, yet cushiony. Powerful, yet yielding. Fearsome, yet loving.
"Oooo!" she moaned again.
Never had sex been like this. Never had she dreamed that a physical experience could be this glorious. Maybe this is what the flower children of the sixties meant when they said that something was "mind blowing."
"Ummph!" she grunted, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. At long last he was all the way inside of her. His black pelvis was grinding against her white one.
She was very proud of herself. She had managed a fantastic accomplishment. She had been able to contain every tiny fraction of the mighty organ and her vaginal muscles were sucking on it avidly.
She looked down at his dark body cradling her white one. They were now locked together in the warm, clear water. She was immersed in it almost up to her shoulders. Her ivory breasts were mashed against his ebony chest. Her calves were welded around his torso. Delicious sensations of pleasure were emanating from her nipples as they ground against his pectorals.
"Ahhh!" she sighed in exquisite rapture.
He began to move her lower body slowly and deliberately back and forth against himself. Even though he had buried all of his dick in her sheath, he wanted to feel more of her. He wanted to push himself into her womb. He wanted his black prick to travel all the way to her heart. He wanted be part of her, feel what she was feeling at that very instant, and know what it meant to have a tight cunt filled with a big cock.
It was the age-old yearning of all men. They had subjugated women wince antiquity, but they wanted them, needed them, and secretly desired their mysterious and unique ability to recreate life. Men could only fight and fuck, but in reality everything in the universe belonged to the female of the species.
Donna sighed. She reached up with her arms and encircled his neck. "Hello stranger," she said with a smile. "Do you live around these parts?"
Their eyes met again. Hers blue; his dark brown. Their lips came together and their tongues explored a wetness and a warmth totally different from the pool around them.
Now he began moving her in a wide rotating motion, carefully and not too rapidly. She leaned back a little and rested her shoulders against the side of the pool. Her tiny white hands clutched his muscular black arms, and she could feel each of the smooth flowing efforts his biceps, triceps, and deltoids made in pulling her back and forth, to and fro, up and down around his groin.
Suddenly, she discovered that she was quite buoyant in the water, and that there was no need for her to continue circling his body with her legs. With a sense of wonderment, she unlocked her ankles, and saw her toes float by themselves in the water just above the surface of the pool.
He felt the movement, and looked behind him. He smiled and said, "You didn't know you could do that, did you?"
"I've never done it in a pool before."
He took one step to the right, and then another- never breaking the rhythm of his arms or the movement of her body. Now her breasts were above the surface of the water as were her knees. He looked at them and admired them. There was something very sexy about kneecaps when they were bent and the skin was tightly stretched over them. Knees, like calves, were an under-appreciated part of a woman's anatomy.
Keith began moving faster now-breathing deeper, harder, louder. His hands were beginning to dig gently into the flesh of her buttocks, holding them possessively.
She was in a state of blissful happiness. She had never known such pure physical pleasure. If she would have died at that very moment, she would have passed away eternally happy. No woman could expect more from a man, nor a penis, than this.
She was astounded to find that the dick inside of her had again begun to swell. This was an entirely new thrill. Fred had never managed to do this. Yet, Keith's was becoming wider and wider-extending in range; extending in scope.
It was beginning to push up against the very back of her vagina, against the cervix itself. At first it felt slightly painful, and then uncomfortable, and then incredibly exciting. She could feel it now with exactly the same sensitivity, the same intensity that he could. She knew that the man inside of her was swelling to the very point of explosion.
She could feel the hard veins around the pulsing shaft, like scaffolding around a monumental structure. She could sense his blood flowing through them, rushing onward to other destinations in his magnificent body. And beneath the veins she could imagine the sperm tubes preparing themselves to ejaculate.
She looked at his face and saw that it was exquisitely flushed. His dark hair was tossed and gleaming. His deep brown eyes had turned jet black. The planes of his face had tightened and lifted, revealing his cheekbones and making his jawline appear that much more angular.
She imagined that he looked younger and-if possible-a thousand times stronger than earlier in the day. The act of sex seemed to increase the virility of a man. Maybe that's why male virgins always looked like dorks.
Reflections of light from the pool and moonlight from above danced across his chiseled ebony face. He was alternately black and silver. Donna knew that at that instant, he had to be the handsomest man she had ever seen.
He began to move into her more and more quickly, more and more powerfully, and more and more urgently. Waves began to form between their two bodies, and ripple up to the surface.
"Umph! Umph! Umph!" he moaned as he plunged into her.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" she responded with each masterful plunge.
"Umph!"
"Ah!"
"Umph!"
"Ah!"
Soon the entire pool was churning from end to end. The once placid surface was sloshing about in turbulent waves. Gallons of water were spilling over the sides and cascading onto the sidewalk.
Donna's knees were moving through the water like pistons. She suddenly caught her breath. Her orgasm was rapidly approaching. She became aware that each time he drove into her, great masses of water were being forced against her exposed clitoris.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"
"Umph! Umph! Umph!"
The repeated stimulation of her clit was maddening. She was moving, uncontrollably, ecstatically, as rapidly as he, toward the first double orgasm of her life.
"Are you ready?" he gasped.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she screamed. "Oh fuck! yes!"
Suddenly, the waves between their bodies grew, and shot to the surface, and exploded there in huge bubbles, spraying both their shoulders and faces with warm water.
She felt her vagina contract around his penis, and then spasm against his flesh as rapidly as the bubbles had exploded on the pool's surface between them.
At the same moment, he lifted back his godlike head, and gave out an animal cry so loud that it seemed to echo back to them in all directions from the surrounding yard.
"Arrrrghhhhhhhhh!"
She felt oodles of semen flood into her an instant later-more than she thought a man could manufacture in a year's time. It flowed into her, and then gushed out. She expected to see splotches of sperm rise to the surface and form a layer like an oil slick. Instead she learned that sperm was heavier than water and tended to sink. Nevertheless, she had felt his seed baptize her innermost recesses, just as he had promised.
She felt ecstatic. She felt sated. She felt fucked.
CHAPTER NINE
While Donna and Keith were balling in the pool, Pam was preparing to go at it with Fred. She really didn't mind the prospect of screwing him. After all, he wasn't such a bad looking fellow. At least he was in fairly good physical shape for a modern day white male.
She didn't understand how a race which had conquered much of the world, and had done so much technologically, had allowed so many of its males to turn into little round dumplings.
Take the fellow that lived next door. That Bart guy. Now there was a sad case if she ever saw one. It was pathetic the way he allowed that bitch wife of his to overrun him. He was the apotheosis of wimpdom and probably a shoe-in for the Wimp Hall of Fame. And it was sad to see him beat- off so much. Nearly every hour on the hour. Didn't geography instructors have anything better to do than play with themselves?
She would see him whenever she sunbathed. He tried to hide inconspicuously behind the curtain or the dresser, but his ever-present bag of corn puffs always gave him away. And if they didn't, then the fist moving up and down in front of his pants did. Whack! Whack! Whack! He was always at it.
She couldn't figure out how he could eat junk food and masturbate at the same time. Well, at least he had a talent of some sort.
Thank goodness Fred didn't look like a wimp. He just looked like he needed several extensive lessons in sex education. Fortunately he had come to the right place. After all, Pam had forgotten more about sex, than most women ever leam.
She was a true-blue child of the seventies. She had grown up in the immediate aftermath of the sexual revolution. She was fortunate to have missed the early Free Love period and to have come of age during the Cosmopolitan era. She was a product of her age, wanting to enjoy every aspect of sex while she still her figure and her looks.
With that thought in mind, she reached between Fred's legs and searched for his testicles. When she found them she had to stifle a laugh. They were so small compared to Keith's. But then she had to keep in mind that most men weren't as well endowed as her husband.
She began to play with them, rolling them in her palms and tickling their underside. "Do you like what I'm doing?" she asked.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" he moaned. "That feels great. Really."
She gently tugged, pulled, and fondled. "Just think," she said. "You only moved into your house several days ago and already you've got a beautiful neighbor playing with your balls. That's pretty remarkable, don't you think?"
"Yea. Ah! Ah! Ah! I should send it in to the 'Reader's Digest'. Maybe they'll publish it in their 'Life in the United States' column."
She laughed. "I like your sense of humor. You're all right for a white guy."
He looked at her tits and replied, "And you're all right for a white girl."
She saw where he was staring and said, "You're a real tit man, aren't you?"
"Yea, I am. I'm been this way ever since I was a teenager."
"I swear!" she exclaimed. "What is it with you guys from the South? Every one I've met has a hang-up about huge tits. Could you please explain it?"
He thought for a moment before replying, "I can't. I don't know. My wife's breasts are beautiful, but for some reason I want them to be a little larger."
"But she has absolutely gorgeous breasts!" Pam exclaimed. "A million women would give anything to have equipment like hers."
"I know it. I should be ashamed of myself for wanting larger models."
"What if I were to say to you that I preferred dicks which were bigger than yours. How would you feel about that?" She squeezed his scrotum especially hard, as if indicating her displeasure with his philosophy.
"You haven't had my dick in you yet, so how do you know if you want a larger model? Size isn't everything with penises, you know."
She scraped her fingernail against the base of his left testicle and said, "Nor is it with breasts either, so there. Appreciate your wife. She's a pretty little thing."
"Yes she is," he replied. He reflected for a moment and said, "You know, I just can't believe that she's participating in this wife-swap."
"Why's that?" Pam asked, now playing with his scrotum more gently.
"Before we came over here, she was adamant about not wanting to sit with Keith because he's black. And now look. She's over there in the pool with him -and they're both completely nude. I suppose that proves that women have fickle minds."
"It could also mean that she's finally meeting a man of another race on a one-to-one basis, rather than with a fixed prejudice about what an entire group of humanity is like. She's finally allowing her mind to open up to new experiences."
Fred looked down and watched the hand lovingly caress his reproductive organ. He then looked up into Pam's brown eyes and said, "I, myself, had to abandon group-think a long time. When I was a kid growing up in the South I always heard that blacks were inferior, or some such bullshit. Yet, I came to know so many decent and intelligent ones that I could never swallow the crap."
She looked at him with an expression of deep understanding on her lovely face. "I'm glad to see that you've overcome some of your prejudices. Many men-and women-never do. They retain them throughout their lives, never relinquishing them to the scrape heap of history. Now, tell me, do you mind the fact that I'm married to a black man?"
"No. As I said to my wife, that's your decision. Love has to be color-blind. If it isn't, it's not love, it's social status."
"What a beautiful thought," she said, somewhat surprised. "For expressing it, I think that you deserve a special round of attention."
She got down on her knees and faced his groin. She reached up with her hands and spread his legs apart. She put her hand around his penis, leaned forward a little, and looked up at him. "This is what I do for men who have wonderful philosophies."
She moved her face closer to the head of his shaft. She was only a couple of inches away, when she paused, looked up at him, and smiled. "Does your wife do this for you, Fred?"
"I wish."
She laughed. "I get the feeling that after she spends an evening with my husband she'll be doing this for you all the time."
He didn't exactly understand what she meant, but didn't care. He was too busy watching the beautiful brunette lean forward and concentrate her attention on his sexual organ. When her face was only several inches away from it, he felt her cooling breath blowing on his glans, and then on the neck, and then lower onto the base of the shaft.
She went up and down, down and up, for approximately a minute, before she stuck her tongue out and flicked it against the very tip. She then opened her mouth wide and lowered her head. She began to suck avidly.
She was like a starved child with a banana popsicle in her mouth. Apparently she wanted to suck every last droplet of sperm out of it.
"Easy does it, babe. There's ho need to rush."
"Mmmph!" she said.
She slowed her oral ministrations and established a regular rhythm of sucking, nibbling, and licking. All the while, she kept her left hand on his scrotum, cradling his balls. She handled them as if they were precious jewels.
Occasionally she would extend her fingernails and lightly scratch his wrinkly sac. This was a well-practiced technique which always caused the sperm to rise in her Keith.
Fred was in seventh heaven. The sight of the beautiful brunette mouthing his organ was perhaps the most erotic sight he had ever seen. Her long hair flowed down her back and shrouded her face as she administered to his urgent need. She was so giving, loving, and expert at her oral skill that he was overwhelmed. In only a matter of moments he was ready to release his sperm.
She noticed that his testes had tightened and that his organ had swelled slightly. She quickly removed her mouth from the shaft. She reached out with her hand and grabbed the neck of the penis. With her thumb she pressed down hard on area beneath the crown.
"Ow!" Fred said. "What are you doing?"
"I'm making sure that you won't-ejaculate."
He looked at her with a confused expression and said, "But ... but ... but that's the whole idea, isn't it?"
"Hardly. The idea is for the two of us to have a mutual orgasm. I don't want you wasting your sperm on a blow job."
"Oh," he said. "I never thought it was a waste."
She smiled and said, "You really do have a lot to learn, don't you?"
He took this as a slight affront and replied, "Donna likes me just the way I am."
Pam chuckled. "She'll like you a whole lot better when I get through with you. Now, lie down on the ground. It's time that you have a women run the show."
"You mean, woman-on-top?"
"That's right. It's obvious that you've only screwed in a missionary position."
"I'm not sure I like this."
"Believe me, you will."
"Why's that?" he asked, getting down on the lawn.
"Because I'm going to keep you harder for a longer period of time than you've ever been in your life. You're going to learn to hold off until the woman is completely satisfied, or you're going to die trying."
"Cheese!" he said as he lay back. "What is this- fuck school?"
"Yes," she replied with a smile, squatting down to straddle him. "And it's your first day of class. Now, aim that stiff cute fellow right here."
"Ahhh!" he moaned as he felt her warm wetness enclose his erection.
As she felt the penis burrow into her she looked down and said, "You've got to learn that sex has many different dimensions. There are the simple mechanics of sex-which you're obviously aware of-and then there is the art of sex, which I will teach you. They are not one and the same."
"Ahhh!" he moaned again. "At long last, I've found a teacher who I really want to listen to."
Meanwhile, over in the swimming pool, Keith and Donna stood in the water still clinging to each other. All the while she remained cradled in his arms. Slowly they relaxed as the waves in the pool, and the waves in their bodies, diminished.
Keith backed up slightly and allowed his once mighty organ to plop out of her vagina.
"Goodbye dear friend," she said, reaching down with her hand to give it a tender, loving squeeze. It had performed wonderfully.
"Well, how did you like it?" he asked.
"I now know what they mean by 'a royal fuck'," she replied. "Maybe what they say is true."
"That black meat is best?" he asked, teasingly.
"Not only that, but that the older a women gets, the more she learns to enjoy sex."
"I'm going to have to look you up when you're fifty."
"I'm not going anywhere," she said with a tender smile. "I like it here. I want to remain living in this very neighborhood-preferably right next door to you for the remainder of my life. " She gave him another deep kiss and nibbled on his tongue.
"Mmm! Mmm!" he said. "I'm gonna like having you as a neighbor."
"I'll always try to be a good one," she said, teasingly, and then turned to prepare to get out of the pool. But.., She stopped dead in her tracks.
There, in front of her very eyes, she saw her husband engaged in sex with Pam. Donna was shocked to her very core. Fred was laying on his back and the brunette was riding him like a horse.
"Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!" Pam kept grunting as she worked her way up and down his stiff penis. She was squatted over him with her long beautiful legs spread wide. She was rocking back and forth while balancing herself on her hands and feet. She was obviously enjoying herself because she was smiling broadly and licking her lips while she worked.
Keith came up behind Donna and patted her on the ass with the palm of his hand. "I see that Pam and Fred have found something to do to occupy their time."
"I can't believe it," Donna replied. "I just can't believe it."
"Why not? Your husband should enjoy the same freedom as you. That's what the sixties and the sexual revolution was all about."
"I don't mean that," she chuckled, slightly. "I'm referring to the fact that he's allowing a woman on top. He would never allow me to do it. Never. Your wife either hypnotized him, or he's drunk."
Keith stepped immediately behind her and positioned his dark penis between the cheeks of her pink ass. "Do you mean to say that you two have only been doing the missionary position all these years?"
"Well...yes. But don't blame me. I always wanted to experiment, but he wouldn't allow it."
His hand came around to her flat little tummy and pulled her back tightly against his body. He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Let's just watch them for a while, okay?"
"Do you think we should ?" she asked, sheepishly.
"Ah, you're such an innocent little lamb chop. You think that sex should only be experienced behind closed doors with four deadbolts in place. Well, that's where you're wrong."
"Why?"
"Because sex is meant to be seen. It's normal. There's nothing wrong with having intercourse in public, or in front of the in-laws, or in front of the children. How do you think the human species evolved? Only during the past five hundred years has the myth of sexual privacy developed."
"Explain yourself."
"You don't think that your poor serf ancestors in northern Europe, or my poor tribal forebears in western Africa, lived in three bedroom houses, do you? Hardly! They lived in one room shacks with a batch of offspring running around and several relatives hanging out, and everyone was humping and pumping away without any regard to 'privacy'."
She giggled. She had never thought of history that way. He was right. She relaxed and wiggled her ass against his pelvis. "So, you're saying that my distant great-grandmother was screwing in front of her children?"
"Probably. She couldn't very well send them outside when it was forty-below and say, 'Stay away for two hours. Then you can return.'"
She laughed so loudly that Pam heard her. "Uh oh," Donna said. She worried that the lovely brunette would be angry, but instead Pam simply waved and smiled as she rode up and down on Fred's cock.
Keith waved back at her, and Donna-not knowing what else to do-did the same.
"You see," he said to her. "You were making a big deal out of nothing. Pam doesn't mind." He returned both hands to her smooth belly and began to sensually rub his palms up and down the entire plain of the flat abdomen-from her ribs to her pubic hair. "I willing to bet that your so innocent, you've never tried a doggy position, have you?"
She was ashamed to say, "No. I haven't."
"Well, it's time for you to have another lesson in fucking from your new neighbor. Just bend forward a little so I can slide in."
She was surprised when she felt his erection. "Do you mean to say that you're hard again? Already?"
"Um huh," he replied while drawing her pelvis back and upward slightly so that she was in a more appropriate position for intercourse.
She felt the head of his penis touch her opening and said, "Wow! I didn't know that a man could go again so soon. Fred usually needs two hours before he's rejuvenated."
"Since you're such a pretty little thing, I'm surprised that he doesn't have his dick buried in you all of the time."
"Well, he doesn't have one in me now," she said as she leaned over, hoisted her ass, and spread her legs. She wanted the entry to be easy and without difficulty.
He began to slowly work the head of his cock into her. As he slid forward he said, "You know, when I first saw you I wondered how tight you were."
"Now you know," she teased.
"I also wondered if you were a natural blonde."
"Obviously," she replied as she wiggled her pelvis upon his rod.
"And I was also curious to know if I could feel my penis burrowing into you through your tiny waist."
"I don't know about that, but your welcome to feel all you want. Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"That you won't withdraw when you ejaculate. I loved it when I felt you splash me last time."
He kissed her on the back of the head. "Your wish is my command, dear lady."
She loved the sensation of being screwed from behind. It was totally different than the missionary position. And the warm water of the pool, occasion-' ally splashing against her groin, heightened the experience.
She rested her chin on her crossed forearms and watched Pam screw Fred. She was surprised to learn that the longer she looked at the brunette, the more beautiful she appeared. She wondered what it would be like to make it with another woman. Earlier in the day she believed that she'd never sit next to a negro, much less fuck him twice in a swimming pool. Now that she'd broken through that silly taboo, she yearned to topple others which were equally ridiculous. Why shouldn't she try it-just once-to see what it would be like? Maybe she could talk Pam into it. Maybe she would enjoy the taste of pussy as much as she enjoyed the feel of big black cock.
Keith was looking down at Donna's backside and watching the water splash over her ivory skin. He loved the way her lower back was shaped, incurving and with sinewy muscles beneath the flesh. He also liked the little dimples situated where her kidneys were. "Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" he asked.
She misunderstood his question and said, "That's what you're doing now, isn't it?"
"I don't mean vaginal intercourse."
"Oh?" she said, somewhat confused, before exclaiming, "Oh! You mean that!"
"Yes. A genuine butt-fuck, or as they call it on the West Coast, 'A San Francisco treat'."
"You made that up," she laughed.
"So what if I did? It's a good line."
"There's many things that I want to experience, but I don't think that's one of them."
He whispered in her ear, "Earlier today you didn't think that you would enjoy an evening with me, right?"
She gulped and answered, "Yes. I admit it. I was prejudiced."
"Do you admit that prejudice is stupid?"
"Yes."
"Then it's also stupid to regard anal sex as taboo. Now, I'm going to withdraw from your cunt and put my dick in your ass, and I won't take 'no' for an answer. Do you understand?"
She was suddenly quite fearful. She had barely gotten used to his mammoth penis buried in her vagina. How was she supposed to grow accustomed to it in her virgin ass-hole? Surely she would be ripped in half from the experience. She looked over her shoulder and pleaded, "Please don't. Let's continue to make love like we're doing now. I don't want to have anal sex. Please."
Even as she was pleading, she knew it was too late. He was already withdrawing from her vagina and holding her in place for an assault on her rectum. She knew it was going to hurt. She knew she was going to bleed. She'd probably see a red cloud rise from between her legs and discolor the entire pool. She braced herself for the assault.
He tapped her on the shoulder and said, "You're going to have to relax. Your so tense that I couldn't get a Q-tip into you."
"I don't want to do it."
"Will you just do as I say. Everything will be fine."
"Do you ever do this with your wife, or is this just a fantasy that I've been chosen to fulfill?"
He sensed the sarcasm in her voice. "Pam and I have been performing anally for years. To tell you the truth, she's the one who turned me on to it, not vice versa."
That news made Donna relax. "Really?" she asked, somewhat surprised.
"Yes. Before I knew what I was doing, I thought of anal intercourse like you-ugly and painful. But there's a lot of techniques that can heighten the experience tremendously. And there are sexual sensations which can only be achieved through rear entry."
She was thinking. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all. "Well, I'll agree only under one condition."
"What's that?"
"That you stop if I say that it's becoming too painful."
"You mean like if you scream loud enough to wake up the dead."
She laughed. "Yes. That'll be your cue to halt."
"Agreed."
At long last she wiggled her ass back for her introduction to sodomy. He reached down and spread the white cheeks of her ass. He always like to check out a woman's sphincter before shoving his dick in.
"My goodness," he exclaimed. "You have a very pretty ass-hole."
"Do you say that to all the women, or only the ones who you invite for a buttruck?"
He chuckled. "I'm not kidding. It looks like a little rosebud and there's no unsightly discoloration around it whatsoever. I admire that in a female."
"I'll have to put it on my resume."
"Pam's is also pretty, but it's darker than yours-in the same manner that her nipples are darker than yours."
"We should make a scientific study of women to see if those things correlate," she teased. "Maybe we could get a government agency to fund us."
Keith was having fun with her. She had loosened up considerably in the past few minutes. He quickly took the initiative by placing his penis at her anal entrance and gently pressing.
She did feel a slight bit of pain as the sphincter muscle expanded in an unaccustomed fashion in order to allow him entry. She bit her lower lip and decided to concentrate on the up and down movements of Pam instead of what was happening in her posterior. Maybe by looking elsewhere, she could avoid the pain of the here and now.
Incredibly, Donna saw that Fred was still going at it with Pam. He was still hard and buried deeply in the lovely brunette. Donna didn't understand how he could hold off for so long, until she realized that the woman-on-top position allowed the female to control events. Hence, it wasn't Fred who was holding back, it was Pam.
Surprisingly enough, Donna had noticed that the warm water of the swimming pool, and Keith's expertise had kept the pain of anal entry to a minimum.
"Are you hurting?" he asked, somewhat concerned.
"No. Not really. It's...not bad, actually."
"Well, wait until I push another couple of inches into you, then tell me." He did as he promised, slowly and purposely, working in and out with little strokes.
She gritted her teeth, but she didn't mind it. When he had one-half of his shaft up her rectum she said, "It's different. Personally, I don't think that it's as good as vaginal intercourse-but that's only an opinion."
"Just give it a chance. Wait a while."
He began moving his rod into and out of her with increasing gusto. He couldn't get over how tight she was in her rear-even tighter than she was up front. She definitely had a virgin ass.
Each time he drove in, her asscheeks would shake a little and the muscles in her back would ripple. Because she was so firm, her body didn't shake like gelatin, but rather with nice little waves.
"Ohh!" she moaned.
That was music to his ears. It meant that he had crossed over the threshold. It meant that she was no longer experiencing pain. From now on it would be purely pleasurable for both of them.
He began his jackhammer rhythm. However, he was careful not to become to wild. After all, he didn't want her little virginal hole to ache too much from her first coupling.
In only a matter of moments it was over. He felt triumphant--she felt exhilarated. He had shot another load into her body. She had taken it into a different hole.
They slowly crawled over to the pool steps and sat. He leaned back, and she rested her head on his shoulder. They were just sitting there, exhausted, when Pam stepped over and said, "Well, it looks like you two had fun."
Donna looked up into her eyes and smiled, "Yes. We did."
"Did you enjoy the dark meat?"
Donna made sure that Fred couldn't overhear her say, "You were right. Variety does make a difference. Really."
Pam squatted down and spread her thighs wide so that Donna could see up between them to all of the pubic area. "And your hubby wasn't too bad either."
"Mmm. I'm glad."
Pam stepped into the pool and stood beside the blonde. She leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "There's only one thing that we have to do before we call it an evening."
Donna knew what Pam was referring to.
CHAPTER TEN
Pam took Donna to the far side of the pool so that they could be alone. She turned the blonde toward her and said, "Earlier in the evening I asked you if you had ever made love with a black man, and you said, 'No'. Now I'm asking, "Have you ever made love with a woman?
Donna had been expecting the question all evening. She had anticipated that it would eventually arise. She looked deeply into her friend's eyes and softly replied, "No."
Pam leaned close to her and lightly pressed her nose against Donna's. She gently wiggled it back and forth Eskimo fashion, and said, "You cute little thing. You've got a real treat in store for you."
She brought her cheek against the blonde's and whispered in her ear, "I think that you've got the most beautiful body I've ever seen. I've been turned on by it ever since I first saw you."
Donna was feeling giddy. The brunette was standing so close that her breasts were starting to mash into hers. Their nipples were starting to poke into each other. The plains of their bellies were beginning to slide against each other.
Pam had reached down between them, and with the palm of her hand began to lightly stroke the blonde's pubic, mound.
"Mmmm," moaned Donna. "That feels so good."
"I'm glad," Pam replied. She kissed her on the cheek, and then on the chin, and then fully on the lips.
It was another new thrill for the blonde. It was similar to being kissed by a man, except softer, gentler, more knowing. She soon noticed that three of her erogenous zones were being stimulated at the same time. Her lips, her nipples, and her clitoris. And soon a fourth was added when Pam reached behind with her other hand and touched the anus.
"Mmmm," moaned Pam. "I wonder if you taste as good as you look. I think that it's time to find out."
She removed her lips from Donna's and kissed her way downward. First the tip of the chin, and then beneath the chin to the neck, and from there to the tendons of her throat.
From there she proceeded to the top of her cleavage. And from there to the upper slope of the fair-skinned breasts-first the left and then the right. And from there to the aureola-first the right and then the left. And from there to the nipples themselves-kissing, sucking, licking- first the left and then the right. And then she lightly bit into the strawberry nipples with her front teeth, making sure not to harm, but being sure to titillate.
Donna began to shiver and moan. Even though she was standing in the warm water of the heated pool, delicious little goose bumps were welling on her flesh.
Pam placed both hands on the buttocks and pressed the blonde insistently against her pelvis. She began grinding her pubic mound against that of Donna's.
"Ohhh!" moaned Donna. "Ohhh! That feels so good."
Pam gave the right nipple one last flick with her tongue before continuing the trail of kisses downward. She kept her tongue extended as she lathered her way beneath the underside of the breast. The flesh was so marvelous here. So perfect. She ran her tongue along the juncture of the breast and the chest, following the crescent line for its entire length. She kissed the very top of the abdomen, and then the center of it, and then the belly button itself.
Once there, she put her tongue into the crater and washed it with her lingual appendage.
"Ohhh!" moaned Donna as her tummy and navel began to move in and out involuntarily, yet deliciously.
The region from the navel to the upper thighs was the real reason for a woman's existence. And Donna's was about as beautiful as they came.
Pam leaned back slightly and looked as the water from the pool lapped at the blonde pubic mound in front of her. Little droplets of water beaded on the hair. She thought that Donna's mid-section was a wonder of creation. Everything from her firm little tummy to the middle of her thighs accentuated the glorious space between her legs.
No wonder men were so attracted to this region of a woman's body. No wonder they developed erections whenever they gazed at it. No wonder hard-ons sprang to life. No doubt most men fantasized about a woman like this.
"Oh, you're so beautiful," said Pam as she moved her face closer to the blonde garden of delight. In the same way that Donna had earlier exalted the wonders of Keith's dick, now Pam exalted the beauty of Donna's snatch-over and over and over again.
Donna tilted her pelvis forward slightly, so that Pam might have a better, more appreciative view of her object of lust. And yet Donna herself was extremely aware of her own beauty. The compliments which had been paid to her, had heightened her self-esteem, and made her realize that she wanted this lifestyle. As she felt Pam's tongue dip into her moist recesses, she realized that she would never go back to the old ways. From now on she was a hedonist-a true-blue uninhibited enjoyer of sex.
With her hands she reached between her thighs and spread her cuntal lips, making it easier for Pam to find access to the entire gash.
"Ohhh!" she moaned as the lips of the brunette encircled the clitoris and began to suck on the little nub.
Pam licked her way down the slit to the vaginal opening itself, and then lower to the midway point between the anus and the cuntal hole. And once there, she flicked her tongue around the very middle of the perineum, licking this smooth bottommost point of Donna's upper body.
The blonde couldn't help herself. Her entire body shook and she sighed, "Ahhh!" She had achieved her first orgasm from a woman. She knew now that there was no turning back to her former puritanical ways.
To celebrate, she sat down on one of the steps in the pool, leaned back on her elbows, and spread her long legs wide apart. She broke into a broad smile and said, "Come and get it, Pam. It's all yours."
Both Keith and Fred saw what was taking place in the pool. They looked at each other and smiled. They immediately got to their feet and rushed forward, diving headfirst into the water, and swimming hurriedly to where the women were.
Fred came up behind Pam and bit her on the ass.
"Ow!" she said, momentarily stopping her lingual tasting of Donna's cunt. She turned and saw that he had placed his hands on her outthrust ass and was positioning himself for anal intercourse. She smiled and said, "Good for you." She arched her back so that he could have an easier time with entry.
Keith, meanwhile, had stepped in front of Donna. He looked at her and said, "Here doll. Have a black lollipop to suck on."
"That's no lollipop," she said, teasingly. "That's a black dick. I know one when I see one."
"My goodness, you're smart," he said. "You must have scored very highly on the SAT test."
"I suppose those initials stand for 'Sucking and
Tonguing'."
"How about a blow job, Donna?"
"I don't know how."
Keith didn't believe that he had heard correctly "Do you mean to tell me that a lovely woman like yourself has never given her husband a blow job?"
She looked down and said, "I'm sorry. Fred and I have never really experienced much."
"My word, darling!" exclaimed Pam between tongue flicks. "Didn't you know that there was a sexual revolution which took place in this country about thirty years ago. Surely you've heard about it ?"
"I'm from a small town. News travels slow to the rural areas of America."
Keith smiled and looked lovingly into her eyes. "Wouldn't you say that it's about time that you learned how to give head?"
She giggled like a child, "Is that what it's called? 'Giving head'?"
"There are many names, my dear. But you can learn them after you learn how to use your mouth and your lips on my flesh. Now, bend down and give it a soft kiss."
She looked at it and admired the satiny crown. The black skin was drawn tightly over it. She knew that only a few scant fractions of a millimeter below the skin, the lifeblood of this man pulsed. With that thought in mind, she lowered her head slowly. She licked her lips, moistening them, readying them. She closed her eyes, wanting the sensations of touch and taste to override that of sight.
He watched her face turn downward in supplication to his throbbing shaft, and the buoyant blonde hair flow down to frame her face.
She inhaled deeply and smelled his musky scent.
He watched her and asked, "Do I smell different than your husband?"
"Yes. Mmmm. You smell more of the forest and the earth."
"That's all those cotton fields my ancestors worked in for you folks," he joked, half-seriously.
She touched the tip of her white nose to the tip of his black shaft. She lovingly nudged the different-colored appendages together several times.
He found this very erotic. Pam had never done this to him before-and she usually thought of everything.
Donna let the shaft slip down to the space between her nose and her upper lip. She gently planted a kiss on his pee hole.
"Hey! That's right. You're a natural at this. Are you sure that you've never given your hubby a blow job?"
"No. Never."
He turned and asked Fred, who was watching, "Has she?"
"She's telling the truth," he replied. "She's never done that with me."
"Maybe it's instinctive with the female gentler," Keith said. "Maybe women have a blow job gene which surfaces when they need to use it."
"That's silly," Donna laughed.
"Not really. Babies instinctively know how to suck on their mother's nipples, don't they?"
"That's different."
"No it isn't. Just pretend that my dick's a big dark nipple that contains a warm liquid drink if you suck on it long enough. Go on. Wrap those lovely pink lips around my shaft and nurse me like an infant would."
She placed both lips upon the organ and began to oval her mouth.
"Yes. That's it!" he exclaimed. "Indeed, you are a natural."
"Mmmmph!" she replied with her mouth stuffed. "Don't worry about answering me, just do as I say."
"Mmmmph!"
"Now extend your tongue and moisten that part of the shaft which is already in your mouth." She did as she was told.
"That's very good. Gently bite into the flesh with your front teeth. But remember-not too hard."
She bit into him several times and removed her mouth. "How was that?" she asked.
"Good. Except that a well experienced fellatrix never takes her mouth off of the penis. Keep your lips on the organ at all times."
"Wait a minute. I have to catch my breath sometime."
"You learn to breathe through your nose, silly."
"Like me," said Pam from between Donna's widespread thighs.
Keith pointed to his wife and said, "See. She's learned how to eat and talk at the same time. That's what you've got to do."
Within only a matter of moments, the two couples had a foursome going. Fred was drilling into Pam's olive- complexioned rear end. Pam was lapping away at Donna's blonde-fringed hole. Donna was avidly sucking on Keith's black cock. And Keith was alternately playing with Pam's and Donna's breasts, feeling and comparing, stroking and tweaking.
They all fucked and sucked, and sucked and fucked, until they literally wore themselves out.
In the end, they all admitted that they had learned a great deal from the experience.
Keith had learned that extramarital sex had heightened his appreciation for his wife. He had enjoyed using Donna's blonde and fair-skinned little body, but Pam was still the woman for him. Without her, he would be nothing. Donna however, was a nice treat. He would enjoy screwing her regularly in the future, for they had all agreed to spend Fridays and Saturdays having pool parties together.
Fred had learned that a woman should be allowed to experiment sexually. If she didn't, she ran the risk of becoming bored, and having her marriage become stale. He loved his wife with all his heart, and nothing could replace her. Still, he found Pam to be a scrumptious sexual tigress, which he hoped his wife would increasingly emulate. From the looks of things, it appeared that Pam would be a willing teacher.
Pam had learned that not all white guys were dorks. Even though Fred could never replace her Keith, he was nice, fun, and a pleasant sexual partner. And his smaller size and body mass meant that she could attempt a few positions that she couldn't with Keith because he was so large. Most importantly, Fred would come in handy when she needed both of her holes filled. It would be nice to have two penises burrowing into her at the same time instead of one.
Donna, of course, had learned the most of all. She had finally learned that racial prejudice was ridiculous. Since she had now opened up to the full range of sexual experience, she realized that black men could just as easily fill her needs as whites. Still, she wasn't about ready to invite the local pro basketball team over to ball her. After all, now in the 1990's there were too many venereal diseases floating around for the Era of Free Love to return. She would have to be satisfied with Keith. But what a lucky break to live next door to a handsome black man with a twelve-inch dick, a six- inch tongue, and a beautiful bisexual wife.
She had also learned not to limit the act of love to men. Pam had provided her with a thrill which she never dreamed possible. Whenever she saw the lovely brunette, or thought of her, her vagina would ooze a droplet of moisture and her labia would twitch with anticipation.
There was little doubt that from now on she would be a sexually satisfied woman and that Springdale would always be her home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As Donna and Fred left the fun proceedings of the pool party, they noticed that an ambulance had pulled up in front of the house located on the other side of Pam and Keith's. A couple of paramedics were having a hard time carrying a stretcher from the house. Apparently the individual on it was extremely obese. In fact, the body weighed so much that one of the paramedics called over to Fred and asked, "Could you lend a hand here? We've got ourselves a whale."
"Sure. Sure," Fred replied, rushing over to be of assistance. He got at one end of the stretcher and asked, "What happened?"
"The guy has a serious concussion. He's unconscious."
"I'm sorry," said Fred, fearing the worst.
"Don't worry. He's gonna be all right. His condition is stable. We got here just in time."
"Any indication as to what happened?"
The medic who was standing next to him whispered, "Apparently he got so sexually excited that he started to go after his wife."
"His wife?" asked Fred with a puzzled expression.
"Yea. They hadn't had sex for something like ten years, so he came barging into her bedroom and demanded that she put out."
That indeed is what happened. Poor Bart had been watching the pool party from his bedroom window. He couldn't believe how much sexual action was taking place at one time before his eyes. On one side of the yard Pam was going at it with a blonde fellow, while in the pool itself Keith was going at it with the beautiful blonde woman. It was too difficult to focus on any one scene. He moved his binoculars back and forth, from one couple to the other, checking out mouths, breasts, buttocks, cunts, dicks, balls, tummies, thighs, and legs. He was listening to pants, grunts, sighs, swoons, and exaltations of ejaculatory release.
He would chant, "C'mon little blonde guy. Fuck that brunette. Fuck her good." Or, "C'mon Pam. Ride him! Ride him!" Or, his attention would be diverted to the pool and he would cry out, "Oh blonde babe with the tiny waist, spread 'em just a little wider. A little wider, please!"
Bart was literally drooling. Slobber was trickling from out of the comers of his mouth and dripping down his chin. His heart was beating at a galloping pace and his pulse was racing furiously.
Back and forth he would move his binoculars, faster and faster, trying to capture all of the action, not wanting to miss anything. He didn't even notice that he had knocked his bag of com puffs into his crotch, spilling crumbs over his entire groin area. As a result, he ground them into his pecker with his palm as he masturbated. It was slightly itchy, but he continued pounding away undeterred.
Finally, when he witnessed the foursome having an orgy on the steps of the pool he got up and started pacing his room in circles. "I've had it! I want sex with someone other than my right hand."
He stormed out of his bedroom and knocked on his wife's door. When there was no answer he barged in. He saw her sitting in a large chair facing the window.
She hadn't heard him enter because she had a Walkman on her ears, listening to some music.
"Liz! Liz!" he called.
He rushed over to her and saw that she too was completely nude and watching the orgy. And incredibly, she was giving chants the same way that he did. "Come on, bitch! Come on. Stick it to that tiny blonde. Come on! Make her cum and cum and cum."
Bart stepped closer, but nearly tripped. He looked down and saw dozens of batteries scattered on the floor around the bedroom. "What's going on here?" he asked, loudly.
She suddenly turned around and saw him. "Why you dirty son-of-a-bitch!" she shouted. "How dare you disturb me when I'm busy."
"Busy? Doing what? Beating off?"
"Yea! Just like you, fuckface."
For the first time in his life he was angry. She had derided his favorite pastime. "Listen bitch, it's time that we had a little talk."
"About what, fatso?"
"I want sex, and I want it now."
She smiled wickedly and said, "The only way that you'll get to use my cunt is if you win the lottery. And even then it'll cost you every fucking cent. But even if you paid me a million bucks I wouldn't want to make love with a man who had an orange-colored pecker."
He didn't know what she was talking about. He looked down and saw that, sure enough, his penis was colored a sickly orange.
"You were beating off while you were eating junk food again, weren't you?" she asked. "Shit! What a dork I married!"
He started to feel a rush of guilt about his appearance when he noticed that she had a huge black vibrator sticking out of her cunt. And it was still operating! He pointed to it and shouted, "And what about you? What's that, huh? A new kind of tampon ?"
She decided to turn the argument against him by saying, "When your husband only possesses a three-inch penis, you make the best of a bad situation."
That did it. He used all his energy to get his fat body into motion. He jumped her and knocked her onto the bed.
It was a foolish move. Not because he hurt her, but because she was ten times stronger than him.
She reached behind her and grabbed the base of a brass lamp. Using it like a baseball bat, she swung it down on his head.
Kapow! Kapow! Kapow!
He was knocked out cold. For the rest of the evening he would dream of beating off in giant sacks of corn puffs.
Because Liz was a real bitch, she didn't call the medics until the orgy at Pam and Keith's was over.
However, Bart finally got the last laugh. While recuperating in the hospital the next day, he learned that she too had been admitted for treatment. Apparently she had had too good of an affair with her vibrator. The mechanical object had gotten lodged far up her rectum. She needed minor surgery to have it removed.
She had been overly turned on by the sight of a beautiful blonde with a coiffured cunt.
