IN HER BOOK, PSYCHOANALYSIS OF SEXUAL LIFE, DR. VITALI NEGRI WRITES: "IT MUST BE acknowledged that illicit union, no matter how gratifying, is accompanied by fear of detection and loss of reputation, while legitimate marriage makes mating a publicly respected procedure. In legalized marriage, love may or may not be present, and sense satisfaction may or may not be attained, but there is no secret to guard, unless it be unhappiness ... "And such a secret was so often the thing that gave Dan and Sharon a comfortable life. A husband and wife sex team, they brought sensuality where it was lacking-for a price. Then they made the mistake of picking on swap artists Frank and Betty and the fireworks began.
CHAPTER ONE
RINSING THE SOAP FROM HIS MUSCULAR BODY, not sure that his stiffly thrusting arousal was caused by thoughts of his own lovely wife in the adjoining bedroom, or the exciting wife of another man across the hall in another luxurious apartment, Dan McKay turned the spray of water off and stepped from the shower stall.
He dried quickly, remained naked, and entered the bedroom. Seeing his beautifully stacked young wife, knowing that the sight of her lovely nakedness would've caused him to have an erection even if he hadn't been thinking about another man's wife, Dan. crossed the bedroom and sat down on the side of the bed.
Sharon was silting before the dressing table mirror brushing her silky blonde hair. "I won't be long, honey. Are you sure that you're satisfied with the way I behaved this evening?"
"You did just fine," Dan said, meaning it, admiring the way his sexy wife's lush buttocks pressed against the leather-covered bench. At twenty-five Sharon was just as firm as she'd been the first time he'd screwed her three years be tore.
"How did you make out with Betty?" Sharon asked, not stopping the slow movements of the brush through her hair. "Floyd put his hand on my knee once while Betty had you out in the kitchen."
Dan chuckled and swung around until he was stretched out on the bed on his back. He clasped his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. "I patted her fanny a couple of times and managed to find out that the rather small tits she had aren't fakes. How old did you say she was?"
"Thirty-five," Sharon said. "She thinks that you look younger than twenty-eight. Floyd's forty-two, she told me, and I doubt that he's much of a man. I didn't see any poking evidence, anyhow."
"As an ex-pro I imagine you'll be able to figure a way to get next to him," Dan said not unkindly, wondering if he'd ever really get used to the idea of marrying-and being married to-an ex-call girl.
"Need I remind you that I'm still peddling my ass?" Sharon asked, not raising her voice. "We both are, for that matter, and sometimes I kind of wish that we could live like other married couples."
Again Dan chuckled. "Like some of these swappers, maybe? Hell, that's about all we do, you know, and any time you want to call it quits, just tell me, baby. You knew what you were getting into, damn it."
Sharon didn't answer. Dan realized that he'd almost been holding his breath. What if Sharon did decide to leave him? One of the times he made such cracks about her whoring, she just might change her mind about what she called her love for him-
"We're just making a profit from our swapping, Sharon. Or we usually do. Because the husbands and wives don't talk to each other about us and compare notes really means that they're cheating far more than the swappers. Betty and Floyd Denning are wealthy, you can bet your bottom dollar on that, and I hey can afford to pay for the pleasures they'll get."
"Since you brought up the subject of money, Dan, I'll ask, how do we stand now?"
Dan opened his eyes. Sharon had put down the brush and had swung around on the bench. Her blue eyes were focused upon his erection. Dan looked at her large jutting breasts, the small pink tips, the golden tinge of her lovely flesh, the long and shapely legs, the blonde mound of womanhood. He slowly lifted his eyes to her beautiful face.
"We have a little over a thousand in the bank, Sharon. That, a couple of hundred in my billfold, along with the apartment rent paid for three days less than a month, and-"
"I have about a hundred," Sharon said after Dan's words had trailed off. She shifted her gaze to his eyes and smiled. "We were lucky to get this ritzy apartment without a lease. Don't worry, Dan. I think Floyd will shell out with some expensive gifts and I can always come up with some story to get at least a little cash. Besides, Betty seems to be ripe for your big dick."
Dan wriggled his hips and made his stiff manhood sway back and forth. "Come to bed," he said. "I think I'll be able to slip the blocks to Betty Denning for a profit, but right now I'll settle for you."
"I'll try and give my best professional performance," Sharon said teasingly, getting to her feet. She swayed her truly magnificent body forward and stopped beside the bed. "I suppose I should be thankful that you married me."
"That goes for me, too," Dan said, removing his hands from behind his head. "Betty told me to drop around any time, by the way. I thought I'd try and start the action tomorrow."
"Let's stop the talk about our neighbors," Sharon said, quickly stretching out beside Dan. "You just said the nicest thing you've said to me in a long time and then practically in the next breath you start talking about the dark-haired pussy across the hall."
Dan didn't say anything as Sharon's fingers grasped his thrusting and throbbing hardness and began to caress gently. He'd never told her that he loved her, not even when he told her that he'd marry her, but in the beginning she'd often used the word. He guessed that what he felt for Sharon was something akin to love-he had married her when it hadn't really been necessary-but how could any man admit to loving a whore? Or, for that matter, admit to loving a wife he allowed other men to use?
"Let's put it in," Sharon whispered. "It's almost midnight and the martinis made me kind of sleepy."
Sharon removed her fingers from Dan's stiff shaft as he sat upright. Then she turned over on her back and parted her sleek thighs so that Dan could get into position for the penetration.
His knees between his young wife's beautiful legs, his fingers caressing her smooth and warm rounded hips, Dan gazed at the inviting aperture surrounded by a silky soft mat of short blonde hair.
"I'm really not in all that much of a hurry and not all that sleepy," Sharon whispered. "I just thought you wanted to make it fairly fast, honey."
Dan lifted his face, his eyes meeting Sharon's. "Always thinking of me," he said teasingly. He walked his hands along the sheet-covered mattress until his face was suspended over her beautiful face, her moistly parted lips. "I think a hell of a lot of you, baby. You know that and I don't know what I'd do without you."
"I understand," Sharon said, putting her smooth arms around his neck, her eyes telling him that she really did understand. "We're both what we are, nothing we do or say will change that, and all I can do is keep on assuring you that I'll stay with you as long as you want me."
Moistening his lips with his tongue, moving his hands to Sharon's thrusting breasts-feeling the nipples harden against his palms-Dan lowered his mouth to Sharon's parted lips. He slipped his tongue back and forth across her perfect teeth and then she met his darting tongue with her own.
She turned on fast, as she always did with him, and as they kissed passionately he squeezed and kneaded her large mounds of taut-tipped flesh in the manner he knew she liked. He began to lose himself in the glory of having sex with his gorgeous young wife, aware that only with her was he able to completely do so, dimly thinking as he usually did how with all other women he was able to somehow keep himself mentally aloof and detached.
Dan soon broke the tongue-probing kiss, anxious to get to the upright breasts, the very sensitive nipples. He took one of them in his mouth and jabbed to and around with his tongue, bringing the nipple to a harder erection, then nibbled and nipped at the stiff smoothness with his lips and teeth.
Sharon's hands had already gone to his head, her fingers running through his short black hair, and she guided his mouth and tongue to her other thrusting tit. It seemed to Dan that he could feel that stiff spike throbbing against his lips and teeth. He enjoyed the soft little moans already spilling from her lips, the delectable scent of her freshly-bathed naked flesh equally as enjoyable.
Finally he trailed downward, rather regretfully leaving the quivering breasts he loved to worship, yet soon finding just as much pleasure lavishing his attentions around and to the surprisingly shallow belly button.
Sharon's stomach was almost flat, just rounding out enough to be excitingly attractive, and Dan lingered there on that golden skin for almost a full minute. By that time Sharon's hips were slowly writhing and Dan's hands had lovingly molded her warm sides and settled upon her sleek hips.
When lie felt his heated wile's fingers leave his head, Dan knew that she was getting somewhat impatient. He didn't have to look to know that she was fondling her own breasts, toying with the hard nipples, maybe even rolling her head back and forth on the sheet-covered mattress.
Trailing downward, skirting his eventual goal, Dan kissed and tongued Sharon's velvety inner thighs. She moved her long and shapely golden legs helpfully, lifting and parting her knees, lifting her firmly rounded buttocks upward several inches, indicating that she was more than ready for the intimate caress.
Dan moved one hand to the blonde target first, using his fingers to prepare the way, then slowly exhaled his breath as he replaced his fingers with his mouth. This brought a little gasp from above-and fingers to his scalp.
Delving with his tongue, finding the most sensitive spot with practiced ease, thrilling to the strange sense of power that he always experienced when giving such erotic pleasure, Dan slipped his hands under and around and clasped Sharon's very firm and very smooth buttocks.
She'd already lurched to his expertly applied greediness, her fingernails digging into his scalp-his bobbing scalp now-and he liked the way her smooth thighs clamped against his cheeks from time to time.
All too soon Dan felt the tell-tale quivering begin. But he was doing some quivering by that time himself, his tremendously hard manhood seemingly begging for the immersion, and Sharon's fingers were removed at the same time he started lifting his head.
Sharon's blue eyes were blazing with passion. Her fingers were right there to do the guiding and she clamped her upper teeth over her full lower lip as he slowly started the entry. He was big, larger than most men, but he knew that now that he had her juices flowing she could take him without any pain.
Still, because he did think a hell of a lot of her he pushed slowly and carefully, slipping his smooth hardness into the moist and quivering hot flesh an inch at a time, stopping now and then to make sure that she was adjusting to the engulfment with her usual ease.
When he was all the way in, buried to the hilt, feeling her silky hairs against his, he lowered his muscular chest to her spiked mounds and mashed his opened mouth to hers. She returned the passionate kiss eagerly, keeping her lower body still as he was doing his, their many sexual experiences having told them both that to delay at this point meant a happy prolongation in the wondrous pleasure that was soon to follow.
Dan broke the feverish kiss and smiled. "You're still the best piece I've ever had, baby."
Sharon smiled happily. "Why thank you!" Then she moaned quite loudly. "Oh, darling, I'm so hot, so hot!"
Dan had braced on his hands and arms. "I guess we'd better do something about that," he said, moving his hands down to her rounded hips. Then it was his turn to make a loud sound, a gasping groan as she expertly twitched her inner muscles.
He buried his face in her silky soft sweet-smelling blonde hair, slipped his hands under and gripped her wriggling buttocks, and started his strokes in rhythmic tune with her inner and outer movements. Soon, as he expected, she ceased the inner contractions, and speeded her squirming outward motions. He quickly picked up the faster tempo, matching her thrust for thrust, knowing that she was going to make it very soon, not yet sure whether or not her spasms would trigger his blasting finish.
"I'm getting there, darling! Oh, it feels so good, so good! Why is it always so much better with you?"
Dan didn't answer. He just kept on matching her ever faster pace. Next she'd probably be talking about love, whispering words about her love for him, and once he admitted that he even sometimes felt a kind of love for her it would mean that he could no longer live with her the way they'd been living.
"I love you so much, Dan! Oh, I love you so very much!"
Dan lifted his face from her blonde hair and glued his mouth to her mouth. Sharon began to dart her tongue in rhythm with the in and out thrusts of his hard flesh. He felt the shuddering spasms begin for her, felt the throbbing expansion that meant that lie could join her if he wished.
"Let it go, Dan! Slam it to me and let it go!"
Dan obeyed Sharon's urgent request. He slammed it to her faster and faster, using his hands to tilt her feverishly thrashing body to even a better angle, and spilled forth his passion in jerking and jolting spurts of gushing ecstasy. And even after the perfect blending they remained plastered together for many happy minutes.
Across the hall in the larger and more luxuriously furnished apartment Betty and Floyd Denning were having one last drink before going to bed. They were still in the living room, sitting on one of several couches, and they'd been talking about their new neighbors.
They had agreed that Dan and Sharon McKay had both been very evasive as to their source of income; just as they'd agreed that the very attractive young couple would be a very welcome addition to their not so secret swapping club.
Betty wanted Dan and Floyd wanted Sharon, there hadn't been any doubts at all about that, and they hadn't argued about the fact that it might not be very wise to be too bold and take unnecessary chances. Betty was sure that she could have Dan at just about any time, but she had her doubts about the handsome and strong-looking young man being willing to exchange his beautiful young wife; Floyd had even more doubts about Sharon's going for him, and at one point in the discussion had even half-heartedly suggested that maybe they should scratch the evening off as a total loss.
Not, he'd hastened to assure his very sexy wife, that he minded if she made it with Dan. It was just that the beautiful young wife from across the hall had behaved too much like a lady for him to get his hopes up very much. And, he'd added with a smile, he wasn't all that anxious to get his nose bashed in by the handsome young husband.
They both finished their drinks at the same time. Betty, always eager for just about any kind of sexual activities, and even more so than usual because of being around Dan, wondered if she could get her somewhat jaded husband up long enough to give her a degree of relief.
Floyd, able to sense Betty's thoughts and desires because of the many years they'd been married, briefly considered getting on the telephone and calling one or more of their swinging friends. Male or female, it wouldn't really make all that much difference to Betty, but he quickly rejected the idea because of the late hour.
Or early hour, he thought, glancing at the large clock on the wall. Half past twelve wasn't exactly the right time to be calling anybody, even for a sex party. Then he thought of the maid and general all-around "employee" they'd assigned a room for use whenever she wanted to sleep in.
"Did Thelma go home right after dinner, Betty? I don't remember seeing her since then."
Betty smiled and patted Floyd's knee. "You were too busy ogling Sharon's lovely legs and tantalizing titties to notice the chocolate beauty even if she'd been around." Betty moved her fingers to her husband's lap and squeezed his limp penis. "If you don't mind I'll see what I can do before we call on Thelma for help. I kind of hate to wake her up at this hour."
"Then she is in her room?" Floyd asked, watching as his wife slipped his zipper down.
"I'm not sure," Betty said, lifting her husband's limp manhood from his shorts and trousers. "I think she is, but I got to thinking about Dan and Sharon just before you got home and Thelma was the only one handy so we had a rather fast and furious session. The dear isn't quite as insatiable as I am, you know, and she told me that her damn stepbrother banged the hell out of her last night."
Floyd pushed forward and moved with Betty's skillful fingers. He was already about half hard-, he was glad to see and feel. "Didn't her stepfather get in on the fun?"
"Thelma said that he wasn't home last night," Betty said, staring at her moving fingers. Then, after about thirty seconds: "You're losing what you had, honey. Maybe we'd better check and see if Thelma's in her room, after all."
"I have a rather important meeting to attend at ten o'clock this morning," Floyd said after hesitating several seconds. He used his foot to shove the low cocktail table away from the couch while putting one arm around Betty's shoulders at the same time. "If we get things going too hot around here I just might be too pooped to get there on time." He chuckled. "Mostly kidding, of course, but you know how I sometimes get."
"When was the last time you were able to go on and on and on?" Betty asked teasingly. "Three or four mouths ago? Besides, we should be that lucky!"
Floyd met Betty's glowing dark eyes. He could remember when he'd practically had her begging him to stop screwing her. But that had been years ago before her sex drive had increased and his had slowly but surely decreased. He had no right to be angry, though. Not with her or with fate. He'd had his day and now it was her turn.
Betty's dark eyes and pretty face suddenly registered genuine concern. "You know that I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Floyd. I know that you're a man, a real man, but no one man could hope to take care of an overly-sexed bitch like me."
"Don't try and con me," Floyd said, watching as Betty removed her fingers from his now totally useless manhood. "We both know that I'm just a jerk, with a jaded sexual appetite. Without plenty of fancy frills I'm usually the nothing I am right now so-" he smiled, "-don't be calling my lovely and loving wife a bitch just to try and build up my ego or some damn thing."
Betty planted a wet kiss on her husband's mouth. She did love him, she guessed-for what they'd once meant to each other if for nothing else-and it wasn't her fault that he'd become so jaded. He'd started them on the swapping kick, encouraged her to experiment and experience the more erotic uninhibited acts or acrobatics, and if she really wanted to be cruel she could blame him for her obsession with all things sexual.
Floyd had been returning the kiss, they'd both been using their tongues, and he'd shoved one hand up under her short skirt. The garment was so tight, though, that his fingers couldn't get above her fleshy lower thigh. Betty broke the kiss and saw that her husband was about half erect again.
"Let's go to the bedroom," she said, slipping from his grasp and getting to her feet. "Maybe the mirrors will help."
Floyd looked up and met Betty's eyes. "You do understand that it had nothing to do with your body, don't you? You're still just as beautifully stacked as you ever were, Betty." He forced a little chuckle. "But we've been over that bit many times, haven't we?"
"We can at least still communicate with words," Betty said, smiling. "That's more than many married couples can do." She sobered. "Look, honey, if you aren't in the mood for anything it'll be all right. If I can't sleep I can always get my trusty vibrator and-"
"I'll turn the lights out," Floyd interrupted. "Mentally I'm about as ready as I've ever been and since we can communicate I'll admit that that's partly due to the golden blonde beauty across the hall."
"And I'll admit that I'm hot partly because of the handsome young husband across the hall," Belly said. She laughed and winked. "Now that we have that settled I'll run along and check and sec if Thelma's in her room just in case she is needed."
Floyd watched as Betty did practically run from the large living room. Despite the tight black skirt her full buttocks managed to jiggle provocatively. Or there'd been a time when the sight would've incited him to complete arousal, Floyd thought, glancing down at his limpness. He sighed and got to his feet, automatically tugging his zipper into place at the same time.
Maybe if he concentrated on possible pleasures with the beautiful young wife of another man he'd ogled most of the evening he could get it up long enough to at least enable Betty to reach one climax while he was embedded. Part of sex had to do with the mind, anyhow, and he'd always had a very vivid imagination.
Floyd went around and turned all the lights out except the one near the bar. There he poured a hooker of Scotch, downed it, then poured another. But he only stared at the full shot glass for several minutes, suddenly hoping that Thelma was in her room, remembering the thrilling pleasures he'd shared with the young and attractive brown maid and his very white wife.
Betty quietly opened the door leading to Thelma's room. The light from the hallway enabled her to see that the dusky beauty was there on the bed, the dark brown skin contrasting sharply with the white bottom sheet. Because the top sheet was rumpled at the foot of the bed, apparently kicked there by restless feet and legs, and the youngster-only several months over twenty-was on her back, her long shapely legs spread wide.
Mentally debating with herself, then deciding that she'd give it a damned good try with Floyd first, Betty started to pull the door closed.
"I'm not asleep."
Thelma's face had been in the shadows, out of (he beam of light from the hallway. Betty pushed the door inward and stepped aside enough to enable her to see the girl's pretty features.
"I figured that you might need me," Thelma said, smiling broadly, her full lips and white teeth glistening. "I took several pecks at the young couple and I've been thinking how I'd like to jazz it up with either one of them myself. Or both of them at the same time!"
"Floyd and I feel that we're going to have to be very cautious with that young couple," Betty said, experiencing the usual surge of excitement, both mentally and physically, as she thought about what would soon be happening.
"If you aren't too tired-" Betty let her words trail off as she saw the long brown lovely legs swing from the bed. She'd known that Thelma wasn't too tired before the dusky sexpot acted-and then spoke:
"Tired! I'm never too tired for sex! And for a threesome I doubt if I could resist at least giving it a try if J had one foot right on the edge of my own grave!" Thelma laughed low in her throat and got to her feet. "That doesn't really make much sense, does it?"
"As much as anything else around here," Betty said, suddenly almost hating her husband for helping turn her into what she'd become.
CHAPTER TWO
THE WALLS OF THE LARGE BEDROOM HAD COST the Dcnnings a pretty penny. They'd had mirrors fastened onto the original expensive paneling, extending from the very soft and very thick carpet all the way up to the tastefully decorated ceiling. Directly over the bed, also fastened securely and at considerable expense, there was a mirror several feet larger than the huge bed.
Six persons could stretch out side by side on the enormous mattress without even touching, if they so wished to waste the large sexual playing field, and at several of the wilder parties, as many as eight had taken advantage of the bouncy firmness at the same time.
When Floyd Denning entered the mirrored bedroom, feeling the effects of the second straight shot of Scotch in what he considered to be just the right degree, the naked young maid was helping his wife disrobe. This undressing process had progressed to the point where Betty Denning was wearing only brief pink panties and an equally brief pink brassiere.
Betty was very proud of her breasts. And rightly so, Floyd thought. The twin mounds were high and firm, on the smaller side and yet large enough for anybody to enjoy fondling and feasting upon, and Betty was walking proof that smaller breasts were less apt to sag with time. Actually, Betty still had the figure of a very young girl. A robust female body from the waist down, true, but her white flesh was as smooth and wrinkle-free as any female of any age Floyd had ever seen or had.
The skimpy bra was removed and tossed aside-by Betty-Floyd let his gaze drop down and remain upon the kneeling brown girl. Thelma Washington's lush flesh was very dark brown, the color and her fine features causing Floyd to believe that there'd been at least one male or female Caucasian grandparent, and aside from her truly beautiful body he liked her for her carefree attitude pertaining to everything having to do with sex.
She somehow made him think of the South Sea Island girls he'd read about. The way they'd lived and loved before they'd been taught about sin by the pleasure-haters-and she'd told enough about her background to cause him to sometimes wonder how the girl had ever managed to retain her sense of beauty where all things having to do with sex was concerned.
She'd been broken in by her stepfather at a very tender age, been used and abused in all manner of ways by the tough youngsters, and oldsters, in a rough and tough neighborhood shortly afterward, and yet to her all the various erotic activities had been, and had remained, fun-filled and pleasurable.
Many girls under the same circumstances, Floyd knew, would've turned against men and sex, and yet Thelma still liked all men, including her stepfather and her horny older stepbrother, and had added all the various acts of Lesbianism to her seemingly never-ending search for sexual pleasures. And, what was even more important-to Floyd and to Betty-the giving was just as important to Thelma as the receiving.
Thelma's fingers were already hooked under the narrow waistband of Betty's brief panties, her brown cheek resting against Betty's white thighs. Floyd knew that they were stalling while waiting for him; just as he knew that they sensed his presence even before Betty glanced at him and smiled, then wriggled her full hips and buttocks as Thelma quickly peeled the thin obstacle down to the dark red carpet.
Betty stepped out of the panties, playfully kicked them aside, and then just as playfully backed away from Thelma's clutching fingers. Floyd walked over and perched his behind on a straight-backed chair, enjoying the many reflections in the mirrors, as Betty scampered for the giant bed and Thelma got to her feet and scampered in hot pursuit.
This was all part of the routine the two dazzling females had developed over a period of several months; a part of their erotic performance to see if they could excite Floyd enough so that his manhood would become hard enough for him to join the action without being touched.
So far he hadn't failed. Or his maleness hadn't. On those few occasions when he'd remained mentally excited for a second session there'd been plenty of stimulating help from skillful fingers and eager lips, of course, but he'd discovered long before that even in exercising complete sexual freedom many habits were formed and carried out without any real logical reason.
Watching as Thelma sucked upon Betty's nipples, one elongated tip and then the other, her beautiful brown buttocks lifted high, Floyd felt his manhood beginning to respond. He'd never seen Betty kiss Thelma on the mouth; nor any other female below the waist. He and Betty had discussed her fear of getting hooked on the gay stuff if she ever went the whole route-and the first time he'd seen her kiss one of the swapping wives on the mouth, he'd felt that it was only a matter of time before his hot wife did give way to her curiosity and go all the way.
Strangely enough, this didn't worry Floyd very much. Most of the female sex club members had given way to their curiosity or whatever, and despite all the stories he'd read and heard concerning the matter, he didn't know of one wife being ruined for her husband or for any other man by such an experience.
He did know of several women who never missed an opportunity to bestow the intimate kisses and caresses upon another woman, but the husbands he'd talked to about it had no complaints-and he'd never been able to detect any difference with the many bisexual wives he'd had.
By this time Thelma had trailed her parted lips and darting tongue down to Betty's quivering belly. Glancing in the mirror above the bed, really trying to see all the exciting action at the same time-no matter if he had discovered long before that it was an impossibility-Floyd saw that Betty was also observing the reflected action from the various angles.
Thelma quickly skirted around the dark triangle, her long brown fingers clasping Betty's slowly writhing hips, her blazing black eyes lifting just long enough to see that Floyd hadn't started to undress before she started kissing Betty's rounded thighs.
Floyd's passion had been soaring, causing him to have an almost complete erection, but he wasn't in any hurry. He knew that Thelma first liked for Betty to turn over on her stomach, which his heated wife was suddenly doing with the equally heated colored girl's help, and only then did he get to his feet.
He'd always been fascinated by Thelma's rather unusual desire to kiss and caress buttocks, and he moved forward for a closer view. There wasn't any doubt about the truth that Thelma was enjoying herself tremendously; just as there wasn't any doubt about Betty's receiving thrilling enjoyment from the strange form of erotic worship.
His writhing wife's fingers were clutching the sheet-covered mattress, she was surging her lovely bottom upward to the jabbing caress, moaning and gasping out unintelligible words all the while, and at this point Floyd began coming out of his clothes. By the time he'd completed that task, stumbling around a great deal while so doing, Betty had flipped over on her back and Thelma's face was buried at the juncture of the white thighs.
"Save some of that for me!" Betty said excitedly, gazing at Floyd's total arousal, but not stopping her lurching movements to Thelma's lavish attentions or ceasing her clutching at Thelma's curly black hair. "Geezus! I've already make it once and I'm just about to make it again!" Betty arched her body, tensed, and dug her fingernails into Thelma's bobbing scalp. "Oh, Awww-"
Floyd quickly climbed onto the bed and positioned himself directly behind Thelma's eagerly uplifted sleek brown buttocks. Betty was temporarily lax, her passion-filmed dark eyes flicking from reflection to reflection in the many mirrors, her fingers still holding the willing Thelma firmly in place.
One of Thelma's hands slipped out from underneath Betty's buttocks and she reached back to help with the guiding. This was standard procedure, as Floyd had discovered that he didn't particularly care for the far more snug harbor so willingly offered and preferred to take advantage of the eager willingness only as a last resort.
Which just might turn out to be the case during the present session, he thought, going along with the smooth and strangely cool fingers. Because he could already sense that he'd had just the right amount of liquor to enable him to retain his hardness for a considerable length of time-and maybe enough to turn it into something of a problem as far as reaching his own blasting climax was concerned.
Floyd wasn't a giant among men. He was tall and lean, almost skinny, and his organ was about average, but he knew that he didn't have any reason for embarrassment because of his size. He'd discovered fairly early in life that how a man performed-and understood a woman's desires-was usually of far greater importance than simply depending upon bulk and jamming that bulk to give pleasure.
He entered slowly and Thelma's engulfing warmth was just as sensational as always, clamping to and around his hardness as he shoved and slipped it deeper and deeper. He was gripping the full and satiny hips with his fingers and was unable to suppress a little groan when the very hot moist inner flesh began to quiver as he started his slow and rhythmic thrusts.
Betty began squirming once again under Thelma's renewed stimulating delving, returned her fingers to the curly black hair, and while glancing into the many mirrors told Floyd that she got a big bang out of observing the reflected motions.
Floyd looked and also got a big bang out of the many views, but he didn't say anything, knowing that Betty was only talking to try and slow down her own rush to fulfillment. He'd had to do much the same in his younger days or years, concentrating on prolonging the pleasure as most young men had to do, but Betty was among the very few women he'd ever known to faithfully follow such a routine.
And that had only started shortly before she'd reached the age of thirty. Before that, especially between twenty-two and around twenty-eight, she'd had one hell of a time reaching a climax without deliberately concentrating upon doing so. She'd been rather cold most of the time, really, and he'd used that as an excuse to seek out and screw other willing women.
Then, seeming to prove the so-called authorities right about females not reaching their sexual peak until around twenty-nine, Betty had slowly but surely blossomed into what had to be considered at least a border-line nympho. They'd met another married couple at about that time, however, who'd introduced them to a group of swinging swappers, and they'd adjusted to their new way of married life easily enough.
They had at first, at least. Lately it seemed more and more as if Betty was turning into some kind of a kooky sex-nut, and he had to have more and more of the fancy frills to be able to perform. Unless he could get at a completely new attractive female, like the stacked beauty in the apartment across the hall, and when he could do that it seemed that somehow the clock or calendar was turned back to his younger years-
"Shift, Floyd!" Betty suddenly exclaimed loudly, almost shouting. "I'm just about there and I want you inside me! Hurry!"
Floyd did hurry. As did Thelma. He pulled out and back, using his hands to help the lovely brown girl roll away, and he knew that Thelma didn't mind. Even though he'd felt the telltale shuddering beginning deep within the core of her femininity. Thelma was basically a giver, after all, and she also knew that in a very short time he'd once again be coupling his body with hers.
Lowering and pushing into the quivering, ready flesh, at the same time reaching down and grabbing his wife's already racing hips, Floyd immediately began to lash himself quite furiously. He also glued his opened mouth to Betty's and jabbed his tongue deep. She sucked at his tongue feverishly-and he felt Thelma as that totally uninhibited sexpot got in on the act.
The brown beauty was busily exploring his swiftly moving buttocks in the manner she'd previously done with Betty. Floyd had been expecting the delightful sensation. had oven been looking forward to it, but even so he experienced his usual shock at the idea that anybody could possibly find the slightest degree of pleasure in doing such a thing.
Betty suddenly ripped her mouth away from Floyd's. Her dark eyes were glittering, her pretty face was contorted with passion, and she slowed the wild movements of her body in the way she always did when balanced on the very brink. Floyd quickly adjusted to the slower pace, feeling the spasms begin for her, aware that Thelma was playing it safe by stopping her thrill-producing activities and getting on her back beside them.
Not, Floyd thought rather dimly, that he would've climaxed if Thelma hadn't stopped. He seemed to have an erection that was going to last and last, because Betty was trembling and rippling through a whole series of spasmodic releases and he didn't feel as if he had advanced any closer to the end than when he'd first shoved into Thelma.
"You'd better rest before giving it to Thelma again, Floyd."
Realizing that his wife had been limp for quite some time, stopping the movements that he'd already slowed to what consisted of little more than an inch or so of jerking motions now and then, Floyd lifted his face from where he'd buried it in Betty's pleasant-smelling black hair.
He saw that Betty's eyelids were lowered. He removed his hands from Betty's very smooth ass and looked over to see Thelma's broad smile. "Miss Betty's right, Mister Floyd. Even my bull-like stepbrother would need some rest after what you just went through and he's a lot younger than you are. I've heard of men having heart attacks and dying right in the saddle and I wouldn't want anything like that to happen to you."
"That just might be the ideal way to go," Floyd said, smiling, knowing that it would be rather foolish on his part to remind the brown girl that it was really quite ridiculous for her to call her employers Miss and Mister under the circumstances.
Thelma had been born and raised in the South, as had Betty, and Floyd didn't think that he'd ever really get used to some of the Southern ways. Not that many things hadn't changed during the many years since he'd moved down from the North, but where sex was concerned he doubted that there'd be any real change for another hundred years or so. And he could understand that easily enough. In his own way he was just as inconsistent in some matters as anybody else. He certainly didn't like to even think about Betty being intimate with a male member of any other race.
While thinking these thoughts, along with wondering about the strange ways of life and sex, Floyd Denning had been removing himself from his wife. He wasn't really tired, he guessed that he could thank the liquor he'd consumed for that, but he was sure that he was in for a very long session.
Most females seemed to find it somehow insulting when a man stopped the action while still having an erection-and he didn't really go for the idea himself. In a way that was a sign of failure, though not quite as bad as failing to overcome limpness, so he'd just kind of coast along and say to hell with the ten o'clock meeting if it turned out that he didn't feel like making it.
After all, he was a big wheel in the company, as well as being the son-in-law of the owner, and Betty's father was quite a swinger, too. The old man would crap right in his pants if he knew about the swapping, but the horny old bastard had probably pronged half of the more attractive female employees.
"How do you want me, Mister Floyd? Like this?"
Floyd was on his hands and knees between his wife and the colored girl. He answered by moving over and getting between Thelma's sleek brown thighs. Her fingers were right there grabbing his slippery hardness, her curly black mound lifting for the penetration.
He glanced over and saw that his wife's eyes were still closed. He knew that she'd soon be watching with excited avidity, though. And that she'd probably be telling him to save his blistering finish for her. Sometimes he doubted that she could really be satisfied even if she had ten long-lasting men like him-with ten sensuous gals like Thelma tossed in or on for good measure.
"What's the matter, Mister Floyd? Do you want me to turn over on my stomach now?"
"He does not! I don't want him to give it to you like that right now, anyway! What is wrong, Floyd?"
"Not a thing," Floyd said, realizing that he'd been kind of poised there between Thelma's trembling thighs for maybe a full minute. He made contact with the hot moist flesh, then waited for Thelma to remove her fingers before slowly pushing his stiffness into the quiveringly tight channel. All cunts were so basically the same and yet at the same time so vastly different, he thought, groaning with pleasure.
When he was all the way in, still braced on his hands and arms, Thelma's long legs wrapped around his waist. The young girl had better inward muscular control than any female he'd ever encountered-or entered. Her snapping ability was really quite fantastic.
Not that Betty wasn't very good at it. But Thelma could go on and on, seemingly never getting tired, and as he gazed into her blazing black eyes-and experienced the glory of being milked like crazy without the brown girl making an outward movement he knew that it he hadn't become so jaded his passion would already be spilling forth.
Floyd looked and saw that Betty, two or three feet away, had faced them by rolling over on her side and propping on an elbow. He grinned and told her not to worry. She moved her opened mouth over to be kissed. Soon she was sucking on his tongue. Being worked on in two places like that, and in such similar ways, inflamed his senses. He began his in and out movements, lowered his chest against Thelma's jutting stiff-spiked titties, keeping his tongue in Betty's mouth all the while, and shoved his right hand between Betty's upper thighs.
Betty opened to him, he quickly found and began stimulating the slippery protrusion with his finger, and Thelma began to use outer and well as inner motions. In fact, Thelma began to bounce her brown butt very energetically and Floyd heard the soft little moans and gasping sounds there near his ear.
Floyd had never kissed Thelma. For several reasons, he guessed. Partly because she was colored and he didn't think that Betty would approve; partly because he wasn't all that sure that he wanted to get that intimate with the girl; and partly because of her strange habit of delving just any damn place with her eager tongue.
It was, he knew, a rather strange relationship that he and his sexy wife shared with the sexy brown girl. There was a kind of segregation even there on the huge bed while the three of them were seeking and finding sexual pleasure.
It was crazy, really, but no crazier than many other things having to do with human sexual behavior. He could write a book a foot thick about the strange things he'd witnessed even at the more mild swinging swapping parties.
"I'm coming, Mister Floyd! I'm blasting off to glory!"
For almost a full minute just about all Floyd could do was hold on. In the process of riding out the storm as the passionate brown girl blasted off to glory, which consisted of grabbing the wildly racing hips his fingers and jabbing the best he could to add to her pleasure as much as he could without being bucked off, Betty pulled her mouth away from his and got on her knees so that she could have a better view.
Then, as Thelma shuddered violently for several seconds and then went limp, Betty flopped over on her back and urgently begged Floyd to take her. Floyd, surprised that he seemed dangerously near his own climax, quickly left Thelma and moved over and plunged his slippery prick into Betty's hot pussy.
Once again Floyd had to hold on tightly to keep from being bucked off. And once again Thelma managed to get her eager tongue in on the act. How the hot-assed girl was able to do that, Floyd wasn't sure, but when Betty shuddered just as violently as Thelma had shuddered shortly before-and went just as limp-he still hadn't spasmed.
In fact, he was afraid that he was about to lose his erection. Betty and Thelma both sensed this and both told him what to do. Betty with words, and Thelma with words and by getting on her belly.
Rather wearily, partly because he was getting tired and sleepy, partly because the effects of the liquor were wearing off, Floyd pulled out of his wife and crawled over to the all-purpose maid. He drove himself into the very tight aperture, reached up and under and grabbed the firm brown hard-tipped mounds, jabbed to the clasping heat about thirty times in that many seconds, and shot forth into a blissfully throbbing release. Staring into the darkness, listening to her sleeping husband breathing softly, Betty Denning patiently waited for sleep to overcome her. Men were lucky in that way, she thought. Plenty of sex made them sleepy. While she, and several women had told her that the same was true of them, was usually wide awake for an hour or so even if the sexual activities had been very satisfying.
But she didn't really mind. She always enjoyed thinking about the wondrous joys she'd just experienced, as well as the many wondrous joys there'd be in the future, and she could spend the next hour or so contemplating possible pleasures with Dan McKay. Sharon?
Betty smiled to herself. It would be rather wonderful if it turned out that Sharon McKay went for the delightful gay thrills. If the young beauty assumed the aggressive role, of course. Because she had never put her mouth on any female like that. Despite the truth that she'd been tempted to give it a try several times.
The aggressive women seemed to get so much pleasure out of it. And she had enjoyed kissing several women on the mouth. The feminine lips had been so smooth and soft. She'd placed her lips and tongue on female nipples several times, too. It had felt so strange to feel the tips harden inside her mouth. Again Betty smiled to herself. Some had been hard even before she'd started kissing and tonguing them. As hers were most of the time without even being touched.
She felt Floyd turn over on his side and could see that he'd faced away from her. The poor dear had really been tired. He'd practically gone to sleep right there on and in Thelma. She and Thelma had washed him and then when she'd come out of the bathroom the maid had gone to her own private room and bath. Was that lovely brown creature sleeping? And had she really been tempted by that beautiful brown female flesh?
A little involuntary shiver raced up and down Betty's naked spine. She'd better not get started thinking about that subject. She wasn't queer, she just enjoyed having queer women give her pleasure. Not, she guessed, that Thelma and the many switch-hitting wives could truthfully be called or even considered queer. Not as long as they enjoyed men just as much as she did. And that was certainly saying a mouthful!
Betty lowered her eyelids. Maybe she'd better not think. As if she could really keep from thinking! But she did get a little worried about herself at times. Always so hot, so itchy for just about any kind of sex. Except for a couple of things that Thelma seemingly enjoyed doing so much. That crazy tongue jabbing bit even with men was more than a little disgusting, really, and the other-the eagerly offered buttocks was just too damn painful for her.
Not that she'd tried it all that much. Twice, actually. With Floyd one time as an experiment, and he'd had enough sense or compassion to stop when she'd yelled bloody murder. But another man, one of the husbands they'd later kicked out of the club for being so rough with so many of the wives, had screwed her like that until he'd finished. The couple of minutes had seemed like two hours and the damn doctor had laughed when she'd gone for help the next day.
Maybe the doctor had been right about her just being unusually tender there, and maybe his wife did go for that painful act, but by diddly-damn she didn't want any more of it! What if some really big man forced himself in like that? Or tired. Hell, she'd never be able to walk again-not to mention not being able to sit down!
Fortunately, though, she'd seldom encountered one of the swapping husbands who even hinted that he was interested in that form of sex-and the present fifteen or so male members of the club were very kind and considerate with all the wives. Some of them were willing to get rather rough if the females wanted it that way, of course, but the members always somehow managed to get rid of the sado-masochist characters who sometimes joined.
Some of the club members were real friends. She and Floyd liked them for reasons other than sex-or for reasons beyond the sexual pleasures involved-and it would be a special treat for them all if Dan and Sharon could be brought into the group.
But she and Floyd would have to take it easy with the very attractive young couple, Betty reminded herself. They'd already agreed to that, knowing from experience that some married couples could be seduced or whatever into switching with one other couple but then would balk at promiscuous swapping.
Betty sighed. She was getting way ahead of herself, that was for sure. She hadn't even made it with Dan yet, she might've even been mistaken about the young husband's intentions. He could've just been flirting-just flattering her because she was older, for that matter-and Sharon certainly hadn't given any signs of needing or wanting any more sex than her strong-looking husband could provide.
Sighing once again, turning over on her side away from her wearily sleeping husband, Betty began to tease herself with an erotic fantasy concerning Dan McKay. Soon, in Betty's imagination, Sharon willingly got in on the torrid action-and then Thelma was joining the entangling flesh-and soon after that Betty was fingering herself to and through a melting release.
Betty Denning finally drifted off to sleep while sucking her thumb.
CHAPTER THREE
DAN MCKAY DIDN'T HAVE ANY REAL PLAN. HE'D always operated that way, kind of playing it by ear as he went along-adjusting his talk and actions to each individual female-and he hadn't really given much thought as to how he was going to get into Betty Denning's pocketbook or purse.
That would be figured out after he got into her pants, the latter really more important to him right at the moment, and he still didn't think that was going to be very difficult. Not that he wanted to take any chances on coming on too strong too fast. Even if the attractive woman was showing a great deal of white, smooth-looking flesh-
"I am glad that you decided to come over, Dan. It gets rather boring sitting around all day. Where does Sharon do her shopping?"
Dan chuckled and lifted his eyes from the bare white legs and one firm-looking upper white thigh. The dark eyes seemed to be registering amusement. Or was there a hint of desire lurking just below the surface?
"Sometimes I think that Sharon makes all the shoos in the city, Betty." Dan chuckled again. "I'm not about to go traipsing in and out of stores with any woman. Not even my beautiful wife!"
"I guess all men are just alike in some ways," Betty said, smiling. "I know that I can't get Floyd to go traipsing through stores with me." Betty lowered her eyes. "Sharon is very beautiful, Dan. Just as beautiful as any young woman that I've seen in a long, long time."
"Thank you," Dan said, deciding that he'd pass up the possible opening about men being alike in some ways. It could've been a straight and logical remark, just a part of the rather forced chit-chat they'd been exchanging the two or three minutes he'd been in the apartment, and it wouldn't be wise to try and snow Betty with words about beauty.
The woman was certainly stacked and her face was really quite pretty, but compared to Sharon-well, there simply wasn't any comparison, so it would be silly and stupid to make some glib statement that would undoubtedly do more harm than good.
"I'm usually dressed by this time," Betty said, not meeting Dan's eyes. "I slept rather late this morning."
"Don't let me keep you from lunch or anything," Dan said, failing to lift his own eyes before getting caught staring at her upper thigh. The flare of her rounded hip, actually, and if she hadn't had her legs crossed he would've been able to see her hairs. He grinned. "I had breakfast less than an hour ago and it's shortly after twelve now so you can tell that I wasn't in any hurry to get up, either."
"I've had my usual poached egg and toast," Betty said, slowly covering her dazzling thigh with the red terrycloth robe. "And coffee. Would you like some, Dan?"
Again Dan decided not to be too hasty and jump at what he was almost a double meaning. "I just had some," he said, seeing Betty's eyes go to the archway opening onto the hall that he knew led to the rest of the rooms in the large apartment.
He turned his face and looked, wondering why he hadn't seen the maid before. The young colored girl was wearing a curve-hugging white uniform and a broad smile on her very pretty face. Then he realized that he had seen her, in the building and wearing street clothes, and he'd thought that she could've passed for a white girl if her skin hadn't been such a dark brown. He still thought so.
"Could I get you something before I go, Miss Betty?"
"No, thanks, Thelma. Will you be back in time for dinner?"
"Oh, yes," the girl said, glancing at Dan. "I'll be back by four o'clock for sure."
"All right, Thelma. Oh! This is Mister McKay, Thelma. I-we hope to be seeing a lot of him and his beautiful young wife. They're our new neighbors across the hall. Dan, this is the best maid in the entire South."
Dan smiled. "Hello, Thelma."
"I'm very happy to meet you, Mister McKay."
The girl quickly turned and Dan watched until the long shapely brown legs and jiggling white-covered buttocks had disappeared from his view. He couldn't keep from wondering if Floyd Denning was getting any of the brown stuff; just as he couldn't keep from feeling a little surge of excitement as he thought about the possibilities of getting into the young girl himself.
"Thelma's really a jewel," Betty said. "We've had her for several months now and she's just like one of the family. She's like a third member of our household, I mean, and Floyd likes her just as much as I do. Sharon told me that you might get a servant later."
"When we get settled," Dan said, seeing that the robe had parted at the top. Purposely, he suspected, admiring the white slopes, the rather shallow valley. "I doubt that we could find a jewel like your Thelma, though. In the looks department, at any rate."
"She had a very beautiful body," Betty said. "I've seen her in the nude several times and she's really-well, fantastic might be a good descriptive word. Or fabulous."
"You must have to keep a close eye on Floyd," Dan said, deciding that he might as well begin to see how things were going to work out. Or how fast. He had the feeling that Betty was ready-and was ready for sex at just about any time-but he was in her apartment and it was better to allow her to most of the leading.
"Floyd isn't quite the man he used to be," Betty said, her dark eyes boldly meeting Dan's eyes. "Sometimes I think-but maybe I'd better keep my big mouth shut!" She laughed low in her throat, "I have a habit of speaking rather bluntly at times and I wouldn't want to embarrass or shock you on your very first visit."
"I think that adults should be able to discuss anything without fear of shocking or embarrassing," Dan said, seeing that the robe had slipped off the exciting upper thigh again, and that the long crossed leg was swinging rhythmically. He grinned. "Besides, I can't remember the last time I was embarrassed or shocked because of blunt talk or anything else."
"I consider myself quite worldly," Betty said, her eyes going to her own swinging leg, making no effort to pull the red robe back into place. "That's the reason I sometimes feel that I'd almost welcome finding out that Floyd was making out with our lovely maid. My husband has certain problems, you see, and we've been married so long that I do want him to be happy. Do you understand how I could feel that way, Dan"
"I think so," Dan said. "Yes, of course. But that means that you also have certain problems, doesn't it, Betty?"
Betty was sitting on a couch near the outside door and Dan was sitting in a large upholstered chair, also near the door. He sat up straight and slipped to the edge of the seat cushion as Betty leaned her head and shoulders back and closed her eyes.
"I've managed lo adjust in various ways to the problems created for me by my husband's somewhat limited abilities, Dan."
Dan stared at the swinging leg, remembering that several women had told him that they could reach a climax by causing friction in such a manner. He felt his manhood beginning to strain against his shorts and trousers. He hesitated, tempted to stand up and go to the obviously already passionate woman without saying a word, at the same time his somewhat cautious nature stopping him from doing so. There was always the chance that the married woman was trying to hustle him. He'd stumbled into such a situation a couple of times-
"My wife doesn't have to depend upon any of the various forms of self-stimulation, Betty. Not when I'm around, anyhow, and don't you think that it would be better if we used some of that blunt talk you mentioned?"
"You know what I want," Betty said softly. "If you didn't know, or hadn't known right from the start, I doubt that you'd even be here." She opened her eyes and gave out with the little laugh Dan was beginning to expect and to like. Her dark eyes were smoldering. "But maybe you don't want to cheat on your beautiful young wife."
"I did come because I thought you wanted some action," Dan said, getting to his feet. "And it isn't as if what I do with you could possibly cause any harm to Sharon. It might sound like bragging, but I think there's enough to go around."
Betty had sat up and stopped her swinging leg, uncrossed it, and was staring at the bulge in Dan's tan slacks. He wasn't completely aroused as yet, the restraining shorts and trousers tended to prevent his cock from becoming completely hard, but there was plenty to observe.
"I guess we've both just been kind of teasing each other," Betty said, licking at her full red lips. "Just as I guess you've known that I've wanted you-wanted that-since first meeting you last evening. Am I glad that I got acquainted with Sharon and invited you over! You don't go For the rough stuff, do you? I don't like the way-out creppy jazz." She laughed. "Or jazzing!"
The robe had parted all the way. The black hairs on Betty's mound were short, either growing that way or clipped, and Dan was glad. He didn't like long hairs growing around a pussy. The twin mounds above were rather small and high, poking proudly, and he could see that the small pink tips were already hard. He liked what he saw, and was sure that he'd like the way everything felt.
"I'm not a rough man," Dan said, moving forward and stopping about two feet in front of Betty. She didn't lift her eyes from that which seemed to fascinate her. "I'll treat you in any way you wish, Betty." He chuckled. "With the hope that Sharon doesn't find out. I wouldn't want to lose my happy home for a few minutes of-"
"Don't say minutes," Betty interrupted. "If Sharon has gone shopping that should give us a couple of hours for fun and pleasure. Are you a long-lasting man, Dan? So many younger fellows are on and in and out and off like rabbits."
"I've never been called a rabbit," Dan said, wondering what the staring woman would say if she knew that Sharon hadn't gone shopping. He'd lied about that, feeling that if Betty knew that his wife was home the action that seemed to be on the way to being started might've been postponed. He was dangerously near being broke and it might turn out that Sharon couldn't score with Floyd-
"I don't want you to think that I'm a whore," Betty said, again licking her lips. "I might be easy, I am easy as hell, but I'm not a whore."
"I didn't think that you meant to charge me," Dan said, this time wondering what the staring woman would do or say if she knew that he hoped to collect in some way for his services. He waited for several seconds and when Betty still didn't look up, he asked, "Do you want to go to a bedroom, Betty?"
"I want you to sit down beside me," Betty said, leaning back and looking down at her own nakedness. "Maybe I just want to kiss and neck a little and that's all. Would you rape me if I resisted, Dan? Would you take that big thing out and jam it in me even if I didn't want you to? If I told you not to?
Dan hoped that Betty wasn't really going to turn out to be as kooky as she was beginning to sound. He hoped that she was just nervous and yapping in such a manner because of that nervousness, but if she wanted to play some fancy games he'd go along with her. He'd known women who wanted to be chased and taken, simulating rape scenes he'd read that most women secretly or subconsciously dreamed about, and as long as they hadn't wanted the way-out sadistic stuff he'd been willing to go along with their whims or quirks.
Betty looked up at him, smiling, seemingly waiting for him to sit down, answer, or both. He sat down beside her, not touching, turning his butt sideways, and looked at her high and firm-looking breasts. Without touching he could tell that the white skin was smooth. She had the body of a young girl, really-outwardly, anyway-and he hoped that Sharon would be equally as well-preserved in ten years.
"I've never physically raped any females, Betty. Like most men, I've mentally raped my share, but as I told you, I'm really not a rough man. Have you ever been raped?"
"No, but I've had the usual thoughts about how it would be, what I would do if a man wanted me that badly, and I think I'd follow the old saying about trying to relax and enjoy it. The bit goes something like that, anyhow. Is that really as large as it appears to be?"
"Do you really want me to say the obvious?" Dan asked, meeting Betty's glowing dark eyes. He shifted his gaze to the moistly parted lips. "Do you get an extra bang out of stalling, Betty? Or are you hesitating because you don't like to cheat on your husband?"
"Shut up and kiss me," Betty whispered.
CHAPTER FOUR
OBEYING THE WHISPERED INSTRUCTIONS, AT THE same time grabbing a handful of firm thigh, Dan knew immediately that he'd really latched onto a hot-ass fire-cracker. Because Betty grabbed his hand and pushed it between her legs even as she tried to jam her tongue down his throat.
And she was doing a pretty good job of the latter, he thought a little wildly, grunting as she quickly moved her hand to his stiff cock and applied a vise-like grip with her fingers. But she relaxed her grip and fondled his cloth-covered hardness quite gently when he applied a little pressure on the hand she had behind his head.
Dan didn't much care for playing fingers, figuring that was for youngsters or for some place where not much else could be done, but when Betty wriggled and squirmed against the hand he had cupping her soft crotch he inserted his middle finger into the already moist, hot flesh.
She clamped her sleek thighs against his hand. But not for long. Not for more than a second or so, actually, because he expertly found her clitoris within that very short period of time and she parted her legs and hunched to and fro with his skillfully applied caresses.
Determined to let Betty lead the way, knowing that he'd just about have to do so if he expected to hook her for some dough, Dan didn't try to break the opened mouth kiss. He liked it, was enjoying the way she'd started sucking on his tongue, but he thought it was rather silly for her not to want his prick where his finger was. Or in the general vicinity, at least. Although he could quickly prove to her that he had enough sense to ride high and stimulate her hardness with his hardness if that was what she wanted.
Betty suddenly clamped her thighs tightly against Dan's hand and broke the tongue-sucking kiss. Her dark eyes were blazing and she laughed low in her throat. She'd also stopped her squirming and Dan had automatically ceased the movement of his finger, knowing that if she'd wanted to climax in that manner she'd still be hunching in harmony.
"I guess I just wanted to test you, Dan! To see if you were inhibited or not!"
"You could've asked me," Dan said, chuckling, stalling for a little more time, knowing that he had to pick out a course of action and stick with it. He lowered his gaze to the exposed titties. "Very nice, Betty, and I like to suck on those."
"I've never known a man who didn't," Betty said softly, relaxing the grip on his hand. "Is there anything else that you like to do? Maybe with your beautiful young wife?"
"That's my problem," Dan said, pretending embarrassment, deciding that he'd go along with the act he and Sharon had started. Maybe Betty would go for some crap about Sharon being too lady-like or some damn thing to go in for the fancy frills. He had to have some excuse for being so eager to cheat on his beautiful young wife.
"Go on," Betty prompted. "You can talk to me about anything, Dan. I'm not all that much older than you are, of course, but you do act and even look a great deal younger than twenty-eight."
"I've had a rather easy life," Dan said, smiling, removing his finger and hand and then getting to his feet as Betty released his throbbingly erect penis. "So has Sharon, for that matter. She had a very sheltered life until I married her. I guess that's the reason she's so-so backward in our marriage."
Betty's tongue flicked out and around her full lips, leaving them glistening with moisture. "Are you trying to tell me that your wife's inhibited and that as a result you're frustrated, Dan?"
"Yes," Dan lied, moving several inches closer to Betty's face and staring eyes. "I've had women-well, do thrilling things to me and when I hint or say that I think we should be more uninhibited in our sexual activities, Sharon refuses to even discuss it. She thinks the more off-beat acts are animalistic or some damn thing, and that's the main reason I cheat on her."
Dan wasn't surprised when Betty slipped forward on the couch and then dropped to her knees before him. She mumbled something about wanting to see and touch him and he took care of the belt buckle as she eagerly lowered the zipper.
His trousers hit the carpet and she reached in and freed his poking prick. While her fingers fondled she leaned back, seemingly to get a better look, and he resisted the impulse to suggest that they get free of all of his clothes-and her robe-and do things like the adults that they were. It was her show, her apartment, and if she wanted to play around like a couple of kids. Dan failed to suppress a little gasp as Betty's face moved forward and her mouth engulfed him. He thrust into the moist heat, thrilling to that delightful sensation-and to the way her tongue was eagerly seeking and finding the most sensitive places.
He automatically entangled his fingers in her black hair, just as automatically checking his racing passion at the same time, safe in the knowledge that he hadn't lied about his ability to last. She didn't continue to lavish attentions too long, he thought, removing his fingers from her soft hair and managing to quickly unbutton his white boxer-type shorts.
Pushing the shorts down over his hips, allowing them to slip down his muscular thighs and legs to join the trousers around his ankles, Dan began to wonder if the greedy woman intended to finish him that way. One of her hands had gone to his naked ass, the other hand, the gentle fingers, had gone to his heavy sac.
It was, he decided, a damned good thing that he'd had the action with Sharon not so long before. He'd screwed his lovely young wife just minutes before visiting the neighbor woman, as a kind of insurance against possible premature ejaculation-realizing at the time that he was taking a calculated risk, of course-but he hadn't really considered the possibility that Betty would go all the way with her greedy mouth. Not the first time, anyway.
He didn't really have anything to worry about, though. He was good for at least two climaxes during the two hours Betty had mentioned, and he didn't mind reciprocating. In fact, it might be a good idea to make such a suggestion right then. He was willing to try it once with just about any woman, finding a great deal of pleasure in giving that type of pleasure, and it would probably be easier to figure out how to make a financial profit after proving that he was completely uninhibited.
But before Dan could even make up his mind whether or not to say anything, including giving out with a few words of warning about what just might happen within a minute or two, Betty pulled away. Her black eyes were blazing with lust, her cheeks were flushed, and her wet lips trembled as she spoke.
"I think we'd better put that big beauty where it really belongs, Dan! Right here and now, I mean, and then later we can go to the bedroom and take out time."
Watching as the woman slipped the robe from her shoulders and arms, becoming totally naked, Dan decided that the thick carpet would be just as good as a bed. He was throbbingly ready for the embedding, the special pleasure of penetrating new and different female flesh, and he should by good for at least three or four minutes even if the motions were frantic and frenzied.
"Like this," Betty said, lifting her rather wide bottom and sitting down on the couch. She spread her legs, her white thighs, and used her fingers to part the short black hairs. "On your knees, I mean, and bury your hard cock in my hot cunt. Do you mind if I talk like that? I see no harm in it, really, and using such words seems to add to my excitement. Hurry, damn it! I'm already wet enough to make it slip in without too much trouble!"
Dan had been unbuttoning his sport shirt, his eyes on the vaginal lips, the invitingly exposed cunt, and he didn't bother to tell her that he didn't care what words she used. Many women liked to say the so-called forbidden words, and hear them, and if she wanted him to talk while screwing her he would.
While thinking these thoughts, as well as deciding not to take the time to remove his shirt or the trousers and shorts around his ankles, Dan dropped to his knees onto the soft carpet and pushed and wiggled himself between Betty's parted thighs. Her ass was right on the edge of the couch, her eagerly awaiting pussy right there for his equally eager prick-at a perfect height-and he gave her time to do the guiding.
Then, when the head of his rod was in, having slipped inside the moist warmth easily enough, and Betty had removed her fingers, Dan placed his hands on her hips, tugged himself into what he thought would be a comfortable position, and asked her how she wanted it.
"Fast and deep," Betty said. "Slow and shallow. Both ways, all ways, and sometimes I think I'd like for it to go on and on for always! You know?"
"I know," Dan said, meaning it, having thought similar thoughts many times. He pushed in about an inch, his eyes on Betty's face, enjoying the pleasure he could see registering, knowing already that he was going to be able to last through at least one of the passionate woman's climaxes. "Do you want me to use words to add to your excitement or whatever?"
"It isn't necessary," Betty said, closing her eyes and chewing on her lower lip as Dan pushed in two or three more inches. "Mostly I wanted to get your reaction. When I used the words, I mean. Does Sharon use such words? Floyd and I both got the impression that your wife's something of a-well I hate to say prude, but Sharon does seem to be rather old-fashioned. Compared to most young women these days, I mean, and we both agreed last night that she'd probably never even think about stepping out on you."
Not sure what he wanted to say, not yet sure as to the line he wanted to give Betty-and her husband-Dan didn't answer with words. He answered with his body, using his stiff shaft to terminate all the conversation for the next several minutes, bringing gasps and moaning sounds spilling from between Betty's parted lips as he thrust his expanded manhood in and out of her feverish flesh.
She answered him thrust for thrust, taking all of him, clutching at his back and shoulders with her fingers, wrapping her legs around his waist and tilting her lower body until she was practically standing on her head. Or on the back of her neck and shoulders, Dan thought, hoping that the frenzied woman wasn't going to hurt her neck.
But that was her worry. He didn't have any worries right then. She'd blasted into a while series of spasmodic releases, seemingly out of her mind with ecstatic joy, and he was still just as strong as when they'd started. Stronger, actually, as he'd gotten what he'd sometimes called his second wind, aware enough to be thankful for the fact that he had blasted off with Sharon before visiting Betty.
Because Betty was insatiable, there didn't seem to be any doubt about that, and he'd have to take that into consideration when deciding hot to go about prying some dough out of her. Since she seemed to be a real sex-nut his job would probably be more difficult. She was undoubtedly in the habit of taking on all comers, men glad to get a free piece of hot tail, so he'd have to become something really special for her-somebody she'd want again and again.
"Can't you come, Dan?"
"I thought I'd let you call the shots," Dan said, smiling and meeting the passion-filmed dark eyes. He made several more strokes into her moist flesh, against her limpness, and then held himself deep and removed his hands from her damp ass. "Maybe you'd like to try another position, Betty."
"And maybe I'd like to be kissed," Betty said.
Dan kissed her mouth, using his tongue, moving his hands to her taut-tipped titties. He toyed with the swollen nipples until she started wriggling against his stiff maleness. She started screwing her again, spearing into her with fast and deep strokes, thankful for the soft carpet that made it quite comfortable for his knees.
Soon Betty broke the passionate kiss, stopped her wriggling, and told him that she wanted to get on top. Dan pulled out and away, figuring that they'd go to a bedroom, but Betty wanted to continue the heated action right there on the thick carpet.
Dan didn't mind; and he wasn't surprised to find when he finally had all of his clothes off, including his shoes and socks, that Betty wanted to use her greedy mouth some more. She did dry his poking prick, using his shorts for that hasty job, and he watched as she labored with very apparent ecstatic happiness. She was very good at the erotic act.
He was willing to reciprocate, of course. Then or later. But she kept her lovely nakedness well away from him, seemingly temporarily satisfied with the climaxes she'd already experienced. Just as Dan began to feel himself rapidly approaching the very brink, his passion threatening to shoot forth within the next several seconds, Betty ceased her lavish worship.
"Maybe the next time," Betty whispered, quickly straddling his prone body, just as quickly lowering herself until she was impaled upon his throbbing organ.
Braced on her hands and arms, her eyes closed thightly and her pretty features passion-contorted, Betty slowly moved herself up and down upon Dan's thrusting rod. The shift had enabled Dan to keep or regain his control. He wasn't really suffering, having gotten used to such lengthy prolongation years before, but he knew that he couldn't last much longer.
There was one basic difference in being with a woman other than his wife, Dan thought. With Sharon he could-well, he could always just be himself. He didn't have to put on an act. And with females like Betty he had to look upon it as a job. Screwing wasn't supposed to be a battle, a test of strength, a chore to be performed for a profit.
Or for a possible profit, Dan corrected himself, seeing that Betty's eyes were open again. Surprise was registering in the dark depths, or amazement, and he grinned and removed his gripping fingers from her firm buttocks. She had to know that he was just about to come.
"Would you like to try still another position, Betty?"
Betty pushed herself down and held, putting her inner muscles into play. This time Dan closed his eyes. And gritted his teeth.
"Roll me over without breaking contact," Betty whispered, ceasing the inner contractions.
Opening his eyes, Dan managed to do just that. When he was on top, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms encircling his neck, he slipped his hands down and under and grasped her wriggling ass. And then he lashed himself in and out furiously until the hot flood of bliss surged and spurted out of him in gush after gush after gush.
"Sharon's a very lucky young woman, Dan. Maybe if I had a man like you I wouldn't have to break my marriage vows."
A couple of minutes had passed. Dan was resting, listening to their breathing mingling, slowly returning to normal, being careful not to put too much weight on Betty's limp body. He lifted his face from her pleasant-smelling hair and met her glowing eyes.
"There are still some things I want to do that Sharon won't let me do, Betty. Unless you're tired and want me to leave now."
"Leave? Me want you to leave!" Betty raised her hands and cupped Dan's face. "Honey, if I thought it was necessary I'd offer to pay you to stay!"
Dan wondered if the woman, the cheating wife, had guessed or sensed his intentions. "I think I'd be willing to pay you to let me stay," he said, chuckling. "If I could afford it, or course. I'm living on a rather limited income right at the moment, though, and I'm afraid that Sharon and I shouldn't have rented such an expensive apartment."
"What do you do for a living, Dan? If, of course, you don't think I'm getting too personal."
"Nothing if I can possibly help it," Dan said, grinning. "I'm inclined to be more than a little lazy."
"Not in the sex department," Betty said. "You certainly aren't lazy when it comes to sex. I feel that big beauty expanding already."
"I inherited some money, Betty. Sharon gets a check each month from an inheritance, too. We make out just fine most of the time. I'm a fairly good poker player and I usually manage to pick up some ready cash just in the nick of time. When our checks are late or something I usually find a game and win enough to tide us over."
"I like to play poker," Betty said. "I'm not very good at it, but I get pleasure from playing even when I lose."
"Then I just might give you that type of pleasure from time to time," Dan said, glad that he'd mentioned the gambling, wondering why he hadn't thought about working the racket in that manner before.
"I will see you again, Dan? After today, I mean."
"Sure," Dan said. "Even if Sharon doesn't go shopping or some place else I can always get out of the apartment easily enough. Just as long as she doesn't find out, of course. As I said before, I don't want to lose her. She wouldn't cheat on me, that's for sure, and she wouldn't stay with me for a minute if she found out that I was here with you like this. She is kind of prudish. You were right about that. Say, what about your husband? Wouldn't Floyd raise hell if he knew about us?"
Dan, gazing into the dark eyes, could tell that Betty was hesitating about answering, and he wondered if she was making up some kind of a lie. For all he knew, and suddenly he suspected as much, the couple freely allowed each other to find and have other partners. They might even be swappers, it was a fact that Betty was a swinger, and if that were true, he and Sharon had certainly goofed.
"I suppose that Floyd suspects that I have other men," Betty finally said. She laughed low in her throat. "But he's rather old-fashioned when it comes to sex. When it comes to sexual freedom, that is, and-well, you wouldn't stay with Sharon if you found out that she went with other men, would you?"
"No," Dan said, deciding that he'd have Sharon make her play for Floyd the next day. He leaned down and kissed Betty's parted lips. "Shall we postpone the talk and take a shower?"
"And then what?" Betty asked teasingly.
"I'm sure that we'll think of something very exciting and interesting," Dan said, withdrawing his cock. It was half hard, or only half limp, and he knew that it could be stiffly at attention without the help that Betty was sure to want to give.
Betty used his shorts again, saying that she'd rinse them out and have them dry before he left, and Dan got to his feet and then helped Betty stand. She continued to hold onto his hand, leading him across the large living room and into the hallway, but she didn't take him to the bathroom he'd used a couple of times the evening before.
Dan stared at the mirrored walls, the largest bed he'd ever seen, the mirror on the ceiling, and Betty laughed and tugged him into the adjoining bathroom. But he stood in the doorway, gazing around the truly fabulous bedroom while Betty adjusted the spray of water in the shower stall. He suddenly wished that Sharon could see the mirrored bedroom, and that she were going to join him on the huge bed instead of Betty.
He soon forgot his lovely wife when he joined Betty in the stall, however. They took turns soaping ach other, arousing each other with the intimate contact, and by the time they'd rinsed-and had dried themselves-he had an erection that he knew would last and last and last.
Dan picked Betty up and carried her into the bedroom. Then he playfully tossed her onto the huge bed, watching as she bounced upon the sheet-covered mattress, getting a kick out of the reflected nakedness in the many mirrors. When she'd settled down on her back, her arms and legs spread wide, he gave a little leap onto the bed and she came up to meet him.
They played and wrestled around all over the enormous bed, clutching and grabbing, nibbling and nipping, entangling their legs and arms, arousing each other to a feverish pitch with seeking lips and searching fingers. Finally, pinning Betty flat on her back, Dan greedily feasted and sucked upon Betty's firm and hard-tipped titties while Betty used her own hands to force more and more of the rather small mounds of delightful flesh into his mouth.
One and then the other, gasping and moaning all the while, the sounds blending with the faint sounds Dan was making with his mouth, and then she began applying pressure upon Dan's head. Unnecessary pressure, as Dan was more than willing, and he swiftly trailed his parted lips and darting tongue down across her trembling belly and buried his face in the moist warmth.
She lurched upward and dug her fingernails into his scalp. He quickly found her stiffened clit with his tongue, lapped at it gently, then quite furiously, finding pleasure in giving the pleasure, paying no heed to her urgently whispered words about turning so that she could engulf him with her mouth.
There would be time for that, plenty of time, and at the moment he was more interested in making her want him again and again. He knew that he was quite an expert at what he was doing, having been told that often and by many women, and even confirmed and dedicated Lesbians had complimented him upon his skill.
And even Sharon, having been introduced to the gay activities while engaged in what was called the oldest of professions, had told him that he was just as good as any female when it came to understanding how to stimulate a female's most sensitive spot.
So, laboring quite happily, at the same time able to keep himself somewhat aloof and detached, Dan brought Betty to and through several series of shuddering releases. How many, he didn't know-and didn't really care. It was enough that he was giving her tremendous pleasure, that he was seemingly succeeding in his purpose of making her want him again and again.
Because she'd started speaking quite loudly, mostly unintelligible words and comments, but he managed to understand enough to know that she was sure as hell liking what he was so expertly doing. And he had enough sense to know when to stop. When he realized that her nervous system had taken just about all it could-far more than the average woman's nervous system could stand-Dan lifted his face and gazed into Betty's glazed eyes.
"You're really something, Dan! You must practice a hell of a lot. Are you sure that you don't do that to Sharon?"
"Sharon would think that I'd lost my mind," Dan said, positioning himself to stick his throbbing cock into the now very juicy cunt. He chuckled. "I get my practice from willing women like you."
"You're just as good as any woman I've had like that," Betty said, using one hand to guide him. "That's right. Slow and easy. I still like this better than the other. Don't start pumping yet. Let it soak for a few minutes while I catch my breath. Unless you're in a hurry and can't wait."
"I can wait," Dan said, thrilling to the encompassing heat, remaining braced on his hands and arms. "Do you go the whole route with the women, Betty?"
"Not yet," Betty said. She laughed. Then: "Does that mean that I'm going to! Anyway, I guess I have been giving the idea a great deal of thought."
Dan remembered how Sharon had told him about giving way to her curiosity about assuming the aggressive role in the rites of Lesbianism; and how she'd considered herself lucky not to get hooked on that type of sex as so many women did.
"I understand that there are certain dangers involved, Betty. Why try a thing if you really don't have a desire?"
"Because I'm me, I guess," Betty said. "Besides, I've just about decided that it is a desire with me. I've even caught myself wanting to try it with Thelma."
"Thelma? The maid? Is she gay?"
"She's bisexual," Betty said, smiling. "Thelma's anything to everybody. Do you want her? Don't look surprised. And you don't have to answer with words. I felt that big beauty jerk inside me when I asked the question!"
Dan felt as if he'd completely lost control of the situation. If Betty was that free-wheeling in her sex life, and had the sexy colored girl available most of the time, just how the hell could he expect to get money out of the hot-ass woman for his services? There was the gambling he'd mentioned, though-and Sharon should be able to score with Floyd.
"Are you maybe hinting that we should make the threesome scene?" he asked grinning, deciding that maybe the sex was becoming far more important to him than the money.
"We'll discuss it later," Betty said, squirming her buttocks and then squeezing his hardness with her inner muscles. "Slam it to me, honey! Slam that wonderful whanger to me now!"
Dan McKay, excited by thoughts of possessing the beautifully stacked brown girl he'd seen only briefly, obeyed the loudly spoken words and allowed his passion to soar right along with Betty's-joining her in a simultaneous climax that left them both gasping for breath.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHARON MCKAY GLANCED AT THE CLOCK ON THE kitchen wall. Ten after three. She sighed and picked up the cup of coffee. The liquid was lukewarm. She stood up from the table and carried the cup to the sink. A beer would taste better than a hot cup of coffee, she decided. She'd already had three or four cups since Dan had left.
Getting and opening a can of beer, Sharon took several sips, and then wandered into the living room. She'd already bathed and she guessed that she should dress. Maybe Dan would take her out for dinner. She certainly didn't seem to be in the mood for cooking. She'd cleaned the apartment, the place was spotless-and maybe she should've gone out for the afternoon. She flopped down on a couch. Why was she so restless? Nothing unusual had happened-or was happening.
Her thin robe had parted and she placed the cold can against the nipple on her right breast. She felt the nub expand into a hard spike. She did the same thing to the left nipple and the same thing happened. She smiled. It would serve Dan right if she demanded some action just as soon as he returned from across the hall.
She sipped from the can and then stared at her erect nipples. One and then the other, and then she again touched each one in turn with the cold can. Were Betty's nipples very sensitive? As sensitive as hers? Was Dan enjoying sucking on Betty's titties as much as he enjoyed sucking on hers? Was he enjoying all of Betty's body as much as he enjoyed hers?
Sharon sat up straight and finished the beer. She placed the empty can on a table and then lowered her head and shoulders against the couch. Her robe had parted all the way and she looked along the length of her nakedness. Why did she have to love Dan? Everything would be so simple if she didn't love her husband.
Not that she'd leave him. She liked him, too. But the love caused her to be jealous. If she only liked Dan she would be quite happy. It wasn't just the sex that she loved, either. She loved to be with him, enjoyed living with him-and she sure as hell wasn't making much sense with her thoughts right then. But when had she ever? Since meeting Dan? Never, really.
Three years. For three years she'd loved Dan and for those three years she'd been hoping that he'd say that he loved her. Because he did. She was sure of that. Maybe if she hadn't told him about her profession. And how many times had she thought that? Hundreds of times. Maybe thousands. And she was still glad that she hadn't married him under false pretenses. She would've lived with him without marriage.
The whoring was to have been only temporary. Famous last words! But she hadn't been in too deep when she met Dan. She hadn't been connected with a large outfit where she couldn't get out. She'd jumped at the chance to marry Dan. There'd been love on her part right from the beginning. Her first sexual love, she'd called it at the time-in her own mind-but as time passed, as she'd learned to like and love Dan for many things other than sex, she'd thought that for him she could've even done without the sex. Or would.
Crazy? Maybe. Maybe not. She wasn't really sorry that she loved him, though. And she couldn't keep from hoping that something would happen to make him admit his love for her.
She'd been an easy pickup. They'd met in a cocktail lounge, talked, had a few drinks, and she'd gone for him right from the start. Even before they'd gone to bed, she guessed. Which hadn't been very long. An hour or so, actually, and then they'd screwed for two days and two nights. Practically! As well as finding pleasure in all the other delightful ways, of course.
She hadn't been whoring all that long. About six months. Call girl was the term most pros preferred. Why? What difference did it make? Whore, prostitute, call girl-they were all the same. Party girl, some were called, as if that changed anything. They still screwed for a living. Along with other erotic activities.
She'd drifted into the sex business easily enough. Maybe because she didn't have a family had had something to do with that. Although that wasn't fair to all the female orphans who didn't turn to whoring. She'd had a pleasant childhood and girlhood in the Home. She'd gotten a high school education, even if she hadn't been so good in the brain department.
It had been a strict place. She hadn't seen or experienced any of the sexual hanky-panky she'd read and heard about going on in some such places, anyway. She'd learned to play with herself at an early age. Nobody had taught her. She'd just been hot from the time she could remember. She'd discovered how to give herself pleasure without help from anybody. She'd still been depending upon her fingers, and several other objects, when they'd gotten her a job and allowed her to leave the Home.
What was that fellow's name? Her first boss? Not that it made any difference, but she hadn't thought that she would ever forget his name. It was a fact that she'd never forget him. He'd been a big guy. All except his penis. And that organ had been about five inches, maybe shorter than that. The stiff thing had done the job, though.
The jerk had cried afterward. He'd practically raped her. Up to a certain point, anyhow. He'd grabbed her the second afternoon she'd worked, just after the offices had been closed, and while she was in the little room where the female help kept coats and things. There was also a restroom in there-a damned good thing-and maybe she should've reported him.
But it had felt good. So very good. And she hadn't fought him after a certain point. In fact, looking back, being perfectly honest about it, she'd have to admit that he would've probably stopped if she'd really fought him. She'd struggled a little, of course. But when he'd gotten his hand on her panty-covered crotch she'd practically taken over. She'd even helped to get his prick out of his pants.
Her hymen must've been partially ruptured previously, by her fingers or some other object, because there'd been practically no pain and very little bleeding. She'd cleaned herself while he'd done his crying or sobbing-and had babbled on and on about being sorry-and she'd felt sorry for him. Not sorry enough to keep from asking for a raise, though.
That had gotten her five dollars a week extra on her paychecks. And that had lasted for several weeks, until the boss had himself transferred to another city. To get away from her, she'd suspected, because he hadn't really been all that virile or whatever. Once she'd managed to get him up for a second time during their almost daily afternoon sessions, finding pleasure in giving him pleasure with her mouth, but he'd refused to return the favor. The guy had been a stupid drip, really.
She'd gotten her knowledge mostly from reading. The second boss, the one who'd replaced the first, had been very oral. In fact, he'd seemingly preferred if that way. He'd been about forty, older than the big fellow with the little penis, but his penis had been what she'd later found to be about average.
About six inches, give or take a fraction or so, and he'd seen that she'd gotten another five dollar a week raise. She hadn't really thought much about the morals or lack of morals involved. Getting sexual satisfaction had been the most important thing. Even so she'd still had to depend upon her fingers and other objects from time to time-when she was alone in her room.
Then, as time passed, she'd learned how easy it was to get a man. Just as she'd learned, later, that many females gave out with the sexual favors to get a raise in pay and/or better working conditions. Everything in life seemed to evolve around sex, and it had been easy to drift into formal prostitution.
An older woman had gotten her started. Donna Powell had also introduced her to the sexual pleasures possible between two or more women. Her last name had been Jones then-that was the name entered on her birth certificate, anyway-and sometimes she thought it could've just as easily been Smith. Because the people at the Home hadn't really given her much information about her parents or background when she'd gotten old enough to make inquiries.
Donna had been about thirty-two at the time. She'd met the tall and very attractive redhead in a cocktail lounge one evening while in search of a man. In search of a stiff shaft to have and to enjoy, and later she'd even discovered that Donna was capable of helping her along those lines, too. She'd never really cared much for the gadgets some women strapped around themselves, though-preferring the real thing to an inanimate object that reminded her of the many such things that she'd used to give herself a measure of relief.
She'd gone home with Donna willingly enough. In fact, she'd suspected that the greedy-eyed woman was a Lesbian-and she'd been quite anxious to give that form of sex a try. In the passive role, at least, because she couldn't remember ever having any desire to put her mouth on another woman. And when she'd finally done so, with Donna-and later with several other attractive females-it hadn't been what could truthfully be called an earth-shaking event. Not for her, anyhow.
Not that she hadn't enjoyed it. If she hadn't gotten a degree of pleasure while giving such pleasure she would've never continued with Donna-or with other women. She still enjoyed going the whole route with an attractive woman, actually, but sex with men-and mostly with Dan-was far more important to her. And far more satisfying.
One thing she remembered very vividly was how shocked she'd been to find herself kissing another woman on the mouth. That had happened almost as soon as she'd entered Donna's apartment. But her passion had chased away all shock, apprehension, doubts, vague fears, and everything else. She'd actually become the aggressor in the passive role, if that were really possible, and Donna had made some remark about unleashing a sexy wildcat.
The truth, really, because she hadn't allowed Donna to get any rest for hours and hours. The female-or the female tongue-had been so much better, so much wiser, than the few male tongues she'd previously experienced that it was like the difference between day and night. Until she'd encountered her expert husband, of course. Dan, though being all-masculine, if there'd ever been such a being, was in a class by himself when it came to knowing how to please a woman.
She hadn't worked in any offices after meeting Donna.
She'd moved in with the Lesbian, quit her job, and within a couple of days-or nights-she'd voluntarily used her tongue on Donna. She guessed that she'd always be sorry about laughing when Donna had mentioned love. But it had seemed rather ridiculous at the time.
Her emotions or whatever had never been involved even with the many men. And, until she'd met and admitted her love for Dan, she really hadn't been able to comprehend the meaning of the word of term. So, looking at it from all directions, from Donna's viewpoint, she couldn't blame Donna for bringing in another woman for a threesome.
That had been way-out wild, as had the foursomes, the group-sex Lesbianism, and she'd sure as hell been drunk on sex for days and days-and nights. And she really hadn't been surprised to discover that Donna was a professional prostitute. She'd already read somewhere that the vast majority of American whores were bascially gay.
She'd willingly gone along with Donna's suggestion that she earn her keep, her living, and being a call girl-a whore-was really more honest than screwing for petty raises in an office or other places of employment. Besides, she'd known many wives who were practicing little more than legalized prostitution-and not even doing a very good job at that. Which, come to think of it, was the reason for the success in the racket she and Dan had worked since getting married.
Generally speaking, the whoring life had been quite pleasant. She'd gotten all the sex she'd needed, the customers or clients hadn't been difficult to handle-aside from a few creeps with all kinds of weird desires and ideas-and if she hadn't met Dan she would probably still be hustling in that manner.
It was strange that she really hadn't lost her respect for Dan. Because she was still hustling her body while being married to him, with his help and permission, even if they were working the profession in a different fashion. The fact that he'd never told her that he loved her, she guessed-she knew-was the main reason she still respected him.
They'd had a good life together while working the racket, though. They got to travel, they didn't have to keep regular hours, they took long vacations when they had enough money to afford it, and it was exciting to have sex with different partners.
Sharon was suddenly snapped out of her reverie by the realization that she was well on her way toward a climax. While thinking, looking back, and trying not to be jealous because of thoughts now and then about Dan being with Betty, she'd been toying with her very sensitive nipples.
She had each smoothly erect tip clasped between a thumb and forefinger, slowly rolling the hardness back and forth, the stimulating friction causing delightful tingling sensations to ripple down along her belly and into the core of her very being.
Should she? But even as she asked herself the question, her gaze going to the quivering blondeness below, Sharon kept right on with the pleasure-giving manipulations, knowing that she'd progressed just a little too far to stop without being left with a nagging discomfort.
She wasn't ashamed of the act she'd started. She was surprised more than anything else. She'd just had a damned good screwing from Dan not so long before, to enable him to keep himself under control with Betty right at first, and she really hadn't been hot when she'd sat down on the couch.
Hunching down a little lower on the cushion, slowly wriggling her smooth ass on and against the silken robe, in tune with her nipple-caressing fingers and thumbs, Sharon remembered the times she'd spasmed by using that comparatively simple method. That had taken-and would take-many minutes, however, and she did want to be dressed and ready to go out for dinner when Dan returned.
Not that she'd mind if he caught her. Hell, he'd get a big bang out of watching her. He might tease her about being a hot-ass fire-cracker, in a kindly way, but he'd understand.
There'd been times, for one reason or another, when he'd jacked himself off. She'd watched, getting a big bang out of doing so, and sometimes it was very enjoyable to do without a partner.
She'd read about some women being able to reach themselves with their mouths. She sure as hell wasn't limber enough for that, and had never observed such an act being performed, but she'd had a male client or customer one time with that contorting ability.
He'd screwed her first, giving her a damn good romp, and then when she'd told him that it was all right with her if he wanted another piece, he'd put on his exhibition. Because he enjoyed being watched, he'd said. He'd had a rather long neck and a very long prick. Getting on the bed on his shoulders and the back of his neck, he'd lowered his legs back over behind his head until his knees were touching the mattress.
She'd gotten closer for a better view. He'd simply opened his mouth and the head of his cock was right there, inside, and then as he'd progressed with his self-loving or whatever at least three or four more inches had been engulfed. It had been quite a sight, really, and he'd finished himself that way.
The fascinating sight had really turned her on. The guy couldn't get his long penis hard again, not even with her very active help, but he'd given her relief with his mouth and tongue. He'd paid her the regular fee, of course, saying that it was a real pleasure to find a whore with the ability or the willingness to climax. The truth, she guessed, because she knew that most women in the profession concentrated like hell on not making it with a John.
Sharon felt the telltale tremors begin within her moist pussy. She slipped her right hand down along her trembling belly and inserted her middle finger into the quivering flesh. She found the stiff and slippery clitoris, slowly stroked the swollen bud-shaped organ, and forgot everything except the blissful pleasures of the moment-the thrilling moments.
CHAPTER SIX
DAN MCKAY TURNED THE SPRAY OF WATER OFF and stepped from the shower stall. There was a full-length mirror and his dark eyes went to his reflection as he slowly dried himself with a large towel. He liked what he saw, as always, and he didn't think that this could be considered even a mild form of narcissism.
At twenty-eight, his body was in just as good shape as it had been at eighteen, and he'd seen many men his age already growing flabby and developing pot bellies that they'd never be able to lose.
And it certainly wasn't as if he received any actual sexual pleasure from the admiration of his physical attributes. Besides, Dan thought, meeting his dark eyes in the mirror, pausing with the towel pulled tight across his buttocks, he wasn't really standing there admiring his physique.
He was pleased with what he saw, that was for damned sure, but only because his near-perfect physical condition better enabled him to give and receive erotic pleasure. That he had a far more than adequate manhood-hanging limply at the moment-to go with his broad shoulders and muscular chest, arms, and legs, was just another fortunate truth that he deeply appreciated.
Still, Dan thought, continuing with the drying process, he wouldn't have all that many years to take such pride in his body. As always, the thought frightened him somewhat. There would come a time when he'd no longer be able to depend upon his looks and his body to make a living. Not, he had to admit, that Sharon hadn't been making most of the living for them both since their marriage.
But that didn't make him a damn pimp or anything like that. Hell, she liked the sex with other men just as much as he did with the other women. She'd been making her living off men before he'd married her, as he'd been making his living off women, so why should he start worrying about their rather strange and unusual arrangement at this late date?
Because he was letting his emotions enter into their relationship, of course. He was thinking about her confessed or professed love for him more and more all the time. And his love for her? Shit! If he didn't watch it he'd be turning into one of those true-blue nine-to-five husbands who jerked themselves off while dreaming about all the new and strange pussy they were missing!
Dan tossed the towel aside, snapped out the bathroom light, and went into the darkened bedroom. Sharon was already in bed, seemingly asleep, the sheet covering her nakedness. They both habitually slept in the nude when it was comfortable enough, the controlled temperature in the expensive apartment making it that way now, and Dan was careful to crawl under the sheet without disturbing or touching Sharon. But at the same time he welcomed the familiar warmth emanating from her lovely body.
He was tired. Bushed, really. Betty Denning had certainly drained the energy out of him that afternoon. The hot bitch didn't know when to stop. He'd pleased her, though. As well as any man could. Or any ten men. Was the sex-crazy woman with the stacked colored maid right then? The husband? Both?
She'd never really agreed to bring Thelma in for their mutual enjoyment; and he hadn't pressed her on the subject. He'd spent most of his time, when they'd paused for conversation, in giving out with double talk and outright lies. He'd seemed to have snowed her with his line of crap, though. Mostly, he was sure, because all she was really interested in was his prick. And his tongue. She would've probably agreed to pay for his services if he'd had the nerve to be truthful and come right out and make the request.
Realizing that he was staring into the dimness, Dan closed his eyes. He was physically tired, he needed rest and sleep, but mentally he was far from sleep or even being sleepy. Maybe if he got up and went to the kitchen for a beer. But he might wake Sharon up. He carefully turned over on his side, facing away from his lovely wife, deciding that he might as well just stay right there, as quietly as possible, and let his thoughts ramble until his brain got as tired as his body.
Maybe he was just getting kind of tired of the life he and Sharon had been living. Maybe he was even getting a little weary of all the sex. After all, he had been making his living screwing girls and women for quite a few years. Since before he'd reached sixteen, actually, and he'd hate to have to even try and guess the number. Or guess the amount of money he'd made and spent, for that matter.
Raised in the slums of a large city, where screwing was just as natural for most of the kids as eating candy and/or taking a leak, he guessed he'd been a greedy little devil even before puberty. Where sex was concerned, anyhow. He couldn't even remember the first time he'd managed to get the liquid representing manhood to shoot out. Onto the ground or into a girl. It sometimes seemed as if he'd come out of the cunt with his penis rock hard.
That was sure as hell stretching the imagination, but his many sexual experiences had started at a very early age. He'd been a pussy-chaser right from the time he'd first thrilled to slipping his pecker into a hot female box. Maybe, however, if he'd kept his stiff poker out of one particular snapping snatch his life would've been different. His hot young stepmother had invited him to climb aboard, though. In fact, she hadn't been living in the crumby apartment for more than a week before she'd had him on and in at every opportunity.
He still couldn't really understand why his old man had gotten so angry with him. Sometimes it seemed that he could still feel the belt lashing his naked ass. His jerking and jolting ass, really, because the old man had walked in and started using the belt just as he'd been getting his gun.
What a crazy scene that had been. His father yelling for him to get out and stay out-right after he'd hauled his bleeding tail off the frantically wriggling female flesh and the bed-and yet his father's eyes had been focused upon the parted thighs, the eagerly awaiting cunt of the hot young wife and stepmother. He still figured that his father had buried his own stiff rod in the wet hole just as soon as he'd hurried from the bedroom.
He'd been a couple months short of his sixteenth birthday. His mother had hauled ass for parts unknown with a piano player when he'd been five-sometimes he thought he could remember her pretty blue eyes-and his old man had left him with neighbor women while at work. The things he'd seen some of those women do! His father still drove a truck for the sanitation department in that city for all he knew. And his mother just might still be with the piano player his father had mentioned.
His ass had healed quickly enough. He'd holed up with a friend, and that friend's sister when the parents were asleep, for two days and nights. He hadn't gone back to school.
He'd hitchhiked to Chicago. In that windy city he'd made out just fine. He'd allowed quite a few queers to go down on him to get a stake, of course, but that hadn't really changed his basic sex drive in any way.
He'd been repulsed by the idea of touching a male, he still was, but he hadn't rolled the homos like so many young guys did. He'd felt kind of sorry for them, really, only willing to accept their pleasure-giving and their money until he could do better. Better meaning, of course, making arrangements to put his ever-ready prick in a woman where it belonged.
In any female orifice, that was, because he'd already been introduced to all the various methods-including total participation on his part. The latter, the best he could remember, had first taken place when he was fourteen. Not that he'd gone around bragging about that. His tough friends, whether they did it or not, denied using their mouths and tongues-and nobody wanted to be called by the name that went with the game.
It had been kind of rough for the first few weeks in Chicago. He'd automatically kept on the move, fearful that his father might change his mind and get the law to looking for him, but apparently the old man-and his father hadn't really been old-had thought too much of his new bride to give much thought to his son.
Lottie, the bride, the stepmother, had only been twenty-four. Why his father had bothered to marry her, he didn't know. Unless he'd loved her. Whatever the hell that really meant. Lottie had been a slut, a bitch in heat, and he guessed that had helped sour him on the idea of marriage. That, and the way his mother had deserted him and his father. Along with all the cheating wives he'd screwed over the years, of course.
Most of the money he'd gotten from the queers had gone to pay for the kind of sex he really liked. Chicago had been swarming with whores eager to take his money and his eager young body. In that order most of the time, but he'd soon discovered that many of the whores had wanted to "mother" him. This "mothering" didn't keep them from going to bed with him, of course-or some of them from wanting him to pimp for them-but as time passed he'd learned how to have a home most of the time. Or a place to screw, sleep, and eat.
He'd never pimped. And he'd never had a job. He'd sometimes helped clean the rooms and the apartments, learning to cook from the more settled prostitutes, and several had even taught him table manners and some of the other nicer things in life. Many of the whores had been very intelligent, really, and he figured that the time he'd spent with them might even be equivalent to the high school education he'd never finished.
Living with whores had soon turned into a regular way of life for him. That he was being "kept" by the women didn't bother him. He figured that he earned his way by being right there and ready when they needed and wanted him. Some were older, pushing thirty, but most were in their twenties. A few had been in their late teens. Most did their hustling away from where they lived, taking the Johns to hotel rooms. When this wasn't the case, he hadn't stayed around very long.
It hadn't taken him long to discover that most of the whores also had sex with other women, often other whores. This had fascinated him. After the first time he was invited to join, and immediately threw himself head-long onto and into the entangled female bodies, he'd never missed an opportunity to enjoy that kind of way-out fun and pleasure.
Taking care of two females at the same time, one with his mouth and the other with his prick, had become something of a speciality for him. Once he'd lived with two young whores for almost three months, seldom taking either one of them without the other also being there, and those two young gals had called themselves in love with each other.
He'd been almost eighteen then. A good-looking man, everybody had said, and by that time he'd had a fairly large bankroll. He had money in the bank, had good clothes and knew how to wear them, and he'd become something of a pool shark and a very good poker player. He couldn't screw all the time, though sometimes it'd seemed as if he'd tried, so there'd been plenty of time and opportunities to get out and around.
He'd started hanging around cocktail lounges just after his eighteenth birthday. He acted and looked older, he had learned to enjoy drinking in moderation, and he was getting ideas about latching onto some rich female. Besides, he'd decided that it was about time that he drifted away from the whores and their rather narrow little world.
His idea had backfired at first. Discovering so many lonely females around the drinking establishments, some of them real beauties, he'd temporarily forgotten his profit motive. In fact, he'd become something of a big-shot, spending the money he'd so carefully saved, even renting himself a nice little apartment in which to do his entertaining.
That had lasted about three months. Until he'd checked his bank balance one day and discovered that he was practically broke. But he'd enjoyed himself. Maybe more than he ever had in his life. Until he'd met Sharon, of course. And he'd also learned one important fact that was always to come in very handy. Most whores wanted to be treated like ladies, which he'd fortunately had enough sense to do right from the beginning, and most so-called ladies enjoyed being treated like whores.
It was so crazy, in his mind-so twisted-that it took him quite some tome to figure out the screwy set-up. But when he did, and just before he was broke, he'd been able to latch onto a meal ticket. The gal had been more than a meal ticket, really, because she'd financed a trip to New Orleans-where they'd lived high for three or four weeks. At the end of that time she'd been broke, she'd gone back to her husband-as far as he knew-and he'd managed to make a connection with a wealthy widow who'd also enjoyed being treated like a whore.
He'd gotten his practice for his new career with the woman with whom he'd visited New Orleans. She'd been about thirty, though looking much younger, and her husband was quite wealthy and seemingly rather dull. Very dull when it came to sex, because the one basic position had been the limit of his imagination or whatever and it turned out that the gal's erotic fantasies had to do with oral activities.
He'd worked her over with his mouth and tongue, despite her rather feeble protests, and when he'd actually gotten his lips and tongue on her clit she'd practically gone crazy. Over the sensation, him, the lengthy screwing session, and not so long afterward, his prick. Looking back, remembering, it seemed as if that greedy gal had had his cock in her mouth all the way to and during their stay together in the Mardi Gras city.
The wealthy widow had taken him to Houston. She'd had a large estate, with servants, and he'd stayed with her until she'd caught him in bed with the Mexican maid. He hadn't known about the Lesbian relationship between the widow and the maid: and hadn't found out that the widow was jealous until he'd calmly invited her to join in on the fun.
That scene had been similar to the one with his father and stepmother. Except that there hadn't been a belt lashing across his naked ass. The widow's fingernails had done a hell of a lot of damage to his back and shoulders, though. And he'd had to dress and leave with a hard on. But he'd been interrupted during his second session with the hot little maid, so he hadn't actually been aching.
From there, after the jealous widow, he'd kind of bounced from female to female. Earning his way with his mouth and his prick, and the always increasing expertness in the way he used them both, he'd seen a lot of the country-and a great deal of the world. It had been a very pleasant life, really, but he guessed that nobody was ever really satisfied. He did have to take a lot of senseless shit off some of the dames; and from time to time he'd encounter some bitch with habits that were disgusting even to him. And that was saying a hell of a lot when considering just how liberal he was where things of a sexual nature were concerned.
During his travels, when he was twenty-two and the male companion of a woman in Seattle-that was what the libidious gal had sometimes called him even when he was buried to the hilt-he'd had a rather brief conversation with a man that had eventually resulted in the racket he'd started working with Sharon.
The man, he'd had a few beers with the guy in a barroom one rainy afternoon, had been capitalizing on the fact that most husbands covet the wives of other men. The handsome young fellow, who'd said that he was married to a gorgeous young woman, had simply moved into various neighborhoods and allowed his willing young wife to make herself available.
The sexy and sexy-looking wife would flirt and show enough flesh to get a married man interested, playing it in such a manner that the wife or wives didn't know that she was screwing the husband or husbands, and the legal husband remained in the background. After being hooked on the sex (the young wife apparently being an uninhibited sexpot) the cheating husbands gave gifts and money quite freely.
Dan opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. The plan or scheme had remained in the back of his mind for about three years. He'd looked all that time for the right woman, the right partner, and Sharon had worked out perfectly. Just a little too perfectly, he guessed, because his emotions were involved. Should he tell Sharon? Should he wake her up right then and tell her that-well, that he felt a kind of love for her? Or should he run like hell?
"What's wrong, honey? Can't you sleep?"
Dan realized that he'd been moving restlessly. They'd gone out to dinner, at Sharon's request, and then he'd suggested a movie. The show had been rather boring, but he'd enjoyed himself just sitting there holding his wife's hand.
"Maybe I was thinking about Betty," he said, turning over on his back. "I thought you were asleep."
"Maybe I've been thinking about Floyd," Sharon said softly.
"And getting hot?" Dan asked, failing to keep the sudden anger from causing him to raise his voice. He was angry at himself for getting so sentimental, knowing that Sharon was just giving him back tit for tat.
"I masturbated this afternoon not so long before you returned from having your fun with Betty," Sharon said calmly.
"That certainly doesn't mean a damn thing! Hell, you could probably play with yourself all the time a man didn't have it in you and still be hot!"
"You're changing," Sharon said, sitting up in bed, causing the sheet to slip down to Dan's waist. "You're changing more and more all the time, Dan."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know," Sharon said, falling back onto the mattress and the pillow. "Maybe you can tell me. You're always making cracks, seemingly to try and hurt my feelings, and it's almost as if you don't even like me. Are you getting tired of me, Dan? Am I beginning to get on your nerves for some reason?"
"No, I'm not getting tired of you and you aren't getting on my nerves. I'm just not sleepy. I'm sorry that I've been making cracks, I'm sorry that I raised my voice just now, and-and I'm sorry if I've been making you unhappy."
"I'm happy enough," Sharon said, turning over on her side and pressing her warm nakedness against Dan. She trailed her fingers over his almost hairless chest. "I want you to be happy, Dan. That would give me more happiness than anything else."
"Just as soon as we get a good stake we'll take another long vacation," Dan said, feeling his nipples springing to life under Sharon's caressing fingers.
She flicked her tongue against his nearest hard nipple and slipped one hand down along his flat stomach to his manhood. That instrument of lovemaking immediately began to lift against her fingers.
"Let me," Sharon whispered. "Stay right there and let me help you get to sleep, honey."
Dan chuckled. "I should argue when my pecker's as hard as a rock!" He clasped his hands behind his head as Sharon swiftly trailed her parted lips and darting tongue down to his stiff shaft.
She took her time about engulfing him, however, and he only lurched slightly to the moist circle of heat. He knew that she wanted him to last and last, that she was in the mood to finish him in that manner, and he remembered the times she'd told him that he was the only man she could do it to without gagging.
He'd believed her, seeing no reason why she'd lie, at the same time trying not to picture her going even part of the way like that with another man. He'd never seen her doing anything with a man-and she'd never seen him with a woman. Sometimes he wondered what his reaction would be to seeing her with another man; just as he sometimes wondered what she'd do or say if she were to see him with a woman.
It might be interesting to find out some time. Maybe in that way he'd know for sure just how he felt about her. If it turned out that he could watch her having sex with another man without feeling jealousy, then maybe he would stop baiting her with the wisecracks. And if it turned out that he was jealous? Well, he could always leave her.
Suddenly Dan wanted to forget everything, wanted to blot everything completely out of his mind, and he knew one sure way that he could do just that. Sharon, busily and greedily lavishing her moist attentions upon his jutting erection, had scooted her own lower body down toward the foot of the bed.
"Swing around," Dan said softly. "Let's make this a duet."
Sharon heard and quickly obeyed, pivoting without faltering in her rhythmic pleasure-giving motions, and Dan eagerly grabbed her delightfully smooth buttocks and pulled her crotch down into place. Her sleek thighs clamped against his cheeks and he parted his lips and slipped his tongue into the moist warmth, pulling her ever closer as he plunged his tongue in and out of the palpitating tunnel.
Then, as Sharon began to wriggle heatedly against his face, bearing down hard and making little moaning sounds that spilled from around his throbbingly expanded cock, Dan settled his tongue upon her slippery clit and expertly licked her to and through a spasmodic release.
Quite suddenly, surprising them both because of the unusual swiftness, Dan arched upward, driving deep, and shuddered through a spurting climax that triggered-with the help of his again very active tongue-still another series of shattering spasms for Sharon.
"That was wonderful," Sharon said, shortly after they'd broken contact and their breathing had returned to almost normal. "Do-do you think that you'll ever tell me what I want to hear, Dan?"
Dan hesitated. Should he commit himself? Did he want to give up the racket and find some kind of a dull and boring job? Because that was what it would mean if he told his lovely wife what she wanted to hear. Besides, he did want a chance to screw the beautifully stacked colored girl across the hall. And Betty again, for that matter.
"I'm sleepy," Dan said. "Let's talk some other time."
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHARON HADN'T YET MADE UP HER MIND AS TO the line she was going to use on Floyd Denning. It would have to be similar to the bunch of crap she used on all the husbands, of course, but things would have to be worked a little differently since she was the one setting up the meeting.
It was much easier when all she had to do was be around a house or apartment and let the men come to her. She could flirt, show some flesh, let it be known that she was willingly available, and almost before they knew it the men were paying in one way or another for what they'd thought she'd given so freely.
Now she really felt quite foolish standing on the crowded sidewalk waiting for Floyd to come out of the office building. She just might tell him the truth. Or part of the truth. It wasn't as if the man could be stupid. Not and be a big-shot in one of the largest brokerage firms in the South, even if his father-in-law was the owner, founder, or whatever. What the hell excuse could she use for meeting him? That Dan! Sometimes that husband of hers expected the impossible!
Dan was probably already across the hall with Betty Denning. Maybe even screwing the hell out of the older woman by that time. They'd slept late, had brunch together around eleven o'clock, and now it was ten after twelve. Didn't Floyd take his lunch hour at noon? Maybe she was stupidly standing in front of the wrong building. No. She'd even checked in the telephone book to make sure that-
"Well! What a pleasant surprise this is!"
Sharon smiled at Floyd. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed the tall and lean man approaching. Now what? she asked herself. The silly bit she'd considered using about coming downtown without lunch money would never do. Was that a knowing look in his blue eyes? Had he guessed or sensed that she was out to hustle him?
"I'd like to talk to you," Sharon said, keeping the smile plastered on her face. "It's about my husband and your wife, Floyd, and I thought it better that we talk before I make up my mind about what to do."
Floyd's eyes had been slowly taking in the beauty of Sharon's magnificent figure. She was wearing a curve-hugging white knit dress and white spiked heels. Her long and shapely legs were bare, her truly fabulous breasts were thrusting right at him, and the scent of her perfume and flesh had him wanting to sniff at her lovely femaleness like a little puppy. Or like an old dog, for that matter.
"I'm not sure that I understand," Floyd said, failing to think of anything else to say, knowing by the expression in ' Sharon's beautiful blue eyes that he was expected to say something. But what? Had she found out about her husband cheating and meant to get revenge by doing the same thing. He hoped!
"I think that it would be much better if we went to some place more-well, more private, Floyd. Maybe we could talk while you have lunch. I've already eaten, but-"
"I'm not hungry," Floyd said after Sharon left her sentence hanging. Not for food, he thought. "There's a cocktail lounge down the block. We should be able to find an empty booth even at this hour. They don't serve food, I mean, and since I don't have any pressing business this afternoon I think I'd like to have a liquid lunch."
Sharon smiled and took Floyd's arm. "I'm rather thirsty myself. In fact, I just might get a little tight and prove to my husband that I'm not quite as old-fashioned as he thinks!"
They walked to the cocktail lounge, Floyd hoping that he could get just the right amount of liquor into the golden young beauty, Sharon hoping that she could handle things so that she could get the older man into her without appearing to be a cheap slut.
There was an empty booth in the rear of the rather small drinking establishment. Sharon sat down and Floyd hesitated for several seconds and then sat down on the other side. The cute young waitress was right there, smiling and calling Floyd by name-his last name with a Mister tacked on in front-and he ordered a Scotch on the rocks and looked at Sharon questioningly. Sharon said that she'd have the same, then watched as the waitress wriggled her ass toward the front and the bar.
"You seem to know the girl quite well," Sharon said, leaving her bare knees touching Floyd's trousers. He looked very neat in his charcoal business suit, very dignified, but his eyes upon her breasts reminded her of a little boy gazing longingly at a couple of pieces of candy.
"Not quite as well as I hope to soon," Floyd said, grinning, slowly lifting his eyes from Sharon's poking titties. "What was it you said about your husband and my wife, Sharon? What is it that you feel you have to talk about before making up your mind about what to do. That is what you said, isn't it?"
"Practically the exact words," Sharon said, watching as the girl returned with the drinks, then waiting until Floyd had paid and they were alone again. Or as alone as they could be with the other customers in the place. "Did you know-do you know that Betty steps out on you, Floyd?"
"That's the polite way of putting it," Floyd said, already feeling a slight response in and around his loins from just being with the young beauty. He was almost sure that if he could see her nakedness-golden all over?-then he could get a hard on that would remind him of the old days, his younger days when he didn't have to have special sights or acts.
"Then you won't be surprised-you aren't surprised when I tell you that Dan was with Betty yesterday afternoon? And may be in bed with her right at this moment?"
"If Betty has her way right at this moment, Sharon, then she probably has Dan on top of her. Am I speaking too bluntly?"
"I think that maybe you are," Sharon said, sipping at her drink, deciding that she'd better be kind of lady-like until she saw how things were going. She watched as Floyd lowered his eyes and put the glass to his mouth. "What I mean is-well, I was hoping that we could have our talk without being nasty about it. I'm not used to rough talk, rough words, and even if I do what I've just about decided to do I want that understood right now."
"What have you just about decided to do?" Floyd asked, telling himself to take it slow and easy, to follow the lovely girl's lead, and yet almost sure that Sharon wouldn't be there if she didn't mean to go to bed with him. But what was her angle? Why should she want to screw him when there were so many younger men she could have practically crawling at her feet?
Sharon could see the questions in Floyd's eyes, could almost hear them clicking around in his mind. Or so it seemed. She smiled, hoping that she wouldn't goof things up, realizing that she was trying to deal with a man who'd been around just as much as she had. Maybe even more. Should she drop her innocent act? Should she speak bluntly, after all?
"I guess I am gambling with my future," Sharon said, thinking it best to continue with the innocent jazz for at least a little longer, until she could get a better idea as to how Floyd's mind was working. Aside from the truth that his eyes told her that he'd already mentally raped her several times, of course. "That's the reason I'm-well, asking you, almost begging you, not to let Dan or Betty know that I met you like this. Is that too much to ask, Floyd?"
"No," Floyd said, remembering Betty saying that Dan had told her that Sharon didn't go in for the more erotic acts, wondering what Sharon would say or think if she knew that he'd discussed Dan and Dan's various sexual acrobatics with Betty. He laughed despite himself. It was all rather confusing, really, and wouldn't it be funny if the young couple had some kind of a scheme they were trying to work on him and his overly-sexed wife?
"Did I say something funny?" Sharon asked, frowning. "Maybe we'd better just forget the talk and finish this one drink."
Sharon hadn't moved, Floyd didn't really think that she meant to leave, but all the same it was all he could do to keep from reaching over and grabbing her and holding her in the booth. Or taking her by the hand and running as fast as he could to a hotel room and a bed. He was even quite sure that his prick could be hard practically on a moment's notice. How long had it been since that had happened without the fancy frills? Without even being touched?
"Whatever we say or do will be just between the two of us," Floyd said, deciding that he might not tell Betty anything. "The laughing a few moments ago had to do with my thoughts about my marriage. I'm not enough for Betty.
Sharon. She-"
"Maybe we shouldn't talk about Betty," Sharon interrupted, beginning to get a little bored with the whole deal. Why should she keep making such a simple thing so complicated? Floyd wanted her, she wanted as much money as she could get out of him, and to really get started on anything they'd have to get naked and get on a bed. Or some place where they could screw without it being too uncomfortable.
Floyd finished his drink and they slowly put the glass down, his eyes meeting Sharon's all the while. "What do you want from me, Sharon? I know that Betty has been intimate with your husband. We gave each other complete freedom where sex is concerned a long time ago. The idea might be a little too sophisticated for you to understand, since I am willing to give you the benefit of any doubts I might have about your innocence in such matters, but at the same time I find it rather puzzling as to exactly why you're here talking to me. What did you mean when you said that you were gambling with your future?"
"Dan has been cheating on me almost from the time we got married," Sharon said, deciding to get things to rolling without any more delay. "You might think I'm crazy, it even sounds silly to me as I try to put my feelings into words, but I've never wanted to break my marriage vows. You know? They are-well, very important to me, and Dan knows that. He knows that it's against my principles to cheat on him as he cheats on me, I mean, and he depends on my principles to make me remain true to him. See! See how silly it sounds when I put it in words! Just because he's the only man I've ever had he thinks that I'll never get the nerve to go with another man no matter how many women he has!"
"And now you do have the nerve, Sharon?"
"I think so," Sharon said. "Yes, I think I'm finally getting the nerve to-to pay him back, Floyd."
"Why haven't you left him?" Floyd asked, feeling that there was something wrong about the whole deal, at the same time wanting and willing to believe anything if it meant having the beautiful girl.
"I've been planning to for quite some time," Sharon said, mentally thanking Floyd for an idea that just might work. "I've been saving all the money I could, actually, and when I feel that I have enough to swing it I'll go to Nevada and get a divorce." Sharon wondered if she'd goofed. "But since Dan practically bragged about being with Betty, I've decided to cheat on him right away!"
"Then you're offering to go to bed with me, Sharon? You're willing to leave here right now and go to a hotel room with me?"
Sharon didn't say anything. She gave out with what she hoped was a weak little smile that signified rather reluctant determination to get even with a cheating husband and slipped from the booth. When Floyd quickly stood up and took her by the arm, his fingers squeezing quite hard, she reminded herself that she'd better not forget her pretense at being comparatively innocent.
They walked in silence the three blocks to the nearest hotel. Floyd would've preferred a smaller hotel, one where he knew that no questions would be asked about the lack of luggage, but he didn't want to take any chances on Sharon" changing her mind during the delay getting a cab would cause.
Sharon wanted to tell Floyd how she would've worked it, but she didn't think it wise for her to appear so wise in such matters. Then, because of sudden memories of a similar episode in his own past, Floyd told Sharon to wait just outside the entrance to the lobby. She obeyed, figuring correctly that he'd thought of the simplest way to prevent possible questioning by the clerk and/or a house detective.
When Floyd came out shortly, smiling and showing her a key, Sharon pretended to listen carefully as Floyd told her that their room was on the eighth floor, but that she was to take the elevator to the ninth floor, alone, and then walk down the one flight and he'd be waiting. Sharon told Floyd how clever he was, careful not to lay it on too thick and pretending nervousness; and Floyd cautioned himself about not coming on too fast and too fancy with the young beauty who'd said that she'd only had the one man's prick buried in what just about had to be a sweet, sweet pussy.
Inside the richly-furnished hotel room, with an adjoining bath, Sharon suddenly had to remind herself that Floyd wasn't a John. And Floyd, feeling that he'd hesitated a little too long about taking Sharon into his arms and kissing her full and very sweet-looking lips, chuckled nervously and walked over and sat down on the side of the bed.
"Somehow or other you've managed to make me feel like a young and rather stupid kid, Sharon. Why don't you just kind of lead the way and let me follow?"
"Do you promise not to tell anybody what I might do and say while we're in here, Floyd? I don't like the idea of you discussing me and what we do and say with Betty, that's for sure."
"Don't worry," Floyd said, hoping that he could live up to the promise he just about had to make. "I promise, I mean, and I guess you know that I'd promise just about anything right now. Maybe I should get you to promise not to tell Dan anything. That young fellow just might want to break my-"
"Don't worry about that," Sharon interrupted with a smile. "I've had several secrets all the time that my husband didn't know about. Doesn't know about, I should've said."
"What kind of secrets?" Floyd asked, suddenly wondering if the lovely girl was going to give out with some facts about how she'd been with men-maybe about how she'd done all the thrilling things with men other than her husband. Because Betty had said that Dan had said that Sharon was inhibited. Words to that effect, anyhow.
"I'm talking about secrets in my mind," Sharon said, laughing softly. "Secret thoughts that I've never had the .nerve to tell Dan about. Not that I'm really sure that I'd want to do the many things I've thought about, of course. But I have had crazy dreams, wild daydreams that had me thinking that I'd like to try all kinds of things. You know?"
"Sure," Floyd said, feeling his pecker beginning to respond, suddenly sure that he wouldn't have any difficulty in getting hard and staying hard even if the exciting beauty didn't allow him to do anything except climb aboard. "I guess we all have secret desires, Sharon. It's just that some of us have the courage to do something about them. Meaning, of course, that I'm an experienced man and I'll do anything you want me to do."
"Maybe I'll be able to let myself go with you," Sharon said, watching as Floyd got to his feet. "As I've never been able to do with Dan, I mean. Why don't you undress in the bathroom, Floyd? I'll be ready and waiting and you might bring a towel back with you." She laughed. "I am a married women, you know!"
"And practical," Floyd said, grinning and hurrying into the bathroom, deciding that maybe he had looked a little startled when she'd mentioned the towel. But the remark had seemed to be so much out of character. He certainly hadn't thought that far ahead.
Sharon undressed quickly, feeling the usual surge of mental and physical excitement just before having sex. She also deliberately pushed thoughts of her husband far back in her mind, as was her habit, having discovered that if she concentrated only on the physical pleasures then the time spent with just about any partner was very enjoyable.
When Floyd came out of the bathroom, naked and with his manhood already almost completely aroused, Sharon was in the middle of the bed on her back. Sharon had heard him entering and thought it a good idea to close her eyes. But when she didn't feel him getting onto the bed, or climbing between her parted thighs, she looked to see what he was doing.
Floyd was standing beside the bed, staring, admiring, thinking that he'd never seen a more beautiful female body. The golden flesh was dazzling, as was the exciting blondeness, and it had been years since he'd gotten such a tremendously throbbing erection from just observing. He wondered if he should bury his face between her legs right away. Or would that be rushing things a little too swiftly?
Sharon knew that Floyd wanted to go down on her. And she wanted him to, for that matter. But she thought it best that the more erotic activities be postponed until after the initial milder form or forms of intercourse. After all, she was supposed to be inhibited-and it would be better to work up rather slowly to expressing the wish to live the wild daydreams she'd mentioned.
"I'm ready," Sharon whispered, looking at Floyd's stiff shaft. His tool wasn't as large as Dan's, but she'd almost bet the last dollar she hoped to get from Floyd that he knew exactly how to use what he did have to give the utmost pleasure.
"I'm not sure that I really want you to know how long it had been since I've been this ready this quickly," Floyd said, tossing the towel onto the bed, then reluctantly pulling his gaze from the blonde mound of womanhood. He looked at the large titties, jutting majestically even while Sharon was flat on her back, and he tried to reject the idea that he might be falling in love with the golden beauty before he'd even touched her.
But when he was between the parted thighs, the very smooth and very warm flesh, feeling the smooth fingers guiding his stiff prick between the parted short blonde hairs, Floyd knew-or sensed-that he was hooked even before the blissful contact had been made.
And when that contact was being made, when his rigid cock was slowly slipping into the already moist cunt-when his prick was buried in the truly marvelous pussy-Floyd knew right away that he'd do anything necessary to experience the wondrous sensation again and again. Maybe it wasn't love, he thought a little dimly, but by damn he was already willing to give up all other women just so that he'd be hard and ready each and every time Sharon was available.
Sharon soon found that Floyd did indeed know exactly how to use what he had. He started slowly, seemingly temporarily lost in the glory of invading her inner flesh for the very first time, and she remembered that she was supposed to be cheating on her husband for the first time-and having the second man in her life.
That didn't mean that she was supposed to act like a virgin, of course, but it did mean that it wouldn't be wise to start moving like a free-wheeling sexpot right in the beginning. She'd just coast and let him set the pace. But why do that? Hell, Floyd knew that she'd done plenty of screwing before! It was just the other delightful things she meant to do to and with him later where he might be able to tell that she'd been feeding him a bunch of crap.
"That feels wonderful, Floyd, but aren't you going to kiss me on the mouth?"
Floyd was braced on his hands and arms. He had been lost in the glory of what he was doing. He heard Sharon's words, her question, but he didn't answer with words of his own. He answered by mashing his opened mouth to hers, feverishly lashing his tongue, and speeding the tempo of his prick-probing thrusts.
Sharon returned the passionate kiss, putting her own tongue into heated action, and matched him thrust for thrust. He was riding high, making perfect contact with her expanded clitoris, already causing her to be well on the way toward an orgasm. Just in case he didn't know, she wriggled a little faster to inform him of that truth.
Floyd had felt the telltale throbbing. He broke the tongue-probing kiss, removed his fingers from the taut-tipped titties he'd been kneading, and slipped his hands down to the rounded hips. He knew that he could ride out her first climax, being with and in the golden beauty hadn't rejuvenated him that much, but he decided to try and blast off with her. He slipped his hands on around and under, grasping the wonderfully smooth buttocks-the bouncing and writhing ass-and gave her all he had with ever increasing speed.
But Floyd knew almost immediately that he wasn't going to be able to finish with her. That, he thought hazily, was just a little too much to expect, anyway. He should be satisfied with the way he'd been able to perform without all the usual extra stimulations his jaded flesh and mind required. And it was really best that he didn't make it with her the first time. They had the afternoon before them, the wonderful pleasure-filled hours, and there wasn't anything he wouldn't gladly do to and for the gorgeous girl. Not a thing!
Sensing too late that Floyd wasn't going to climax with her, Sharon was unable to check her own mad dash to fulfillment. Most men, during the very first time they were coupled with her, were fairly fast-and she didn't like it because she'd misjudged Floyd's stamina. Not that it really made all that much difference, of course. It was just that she'd always taken pride in her professional duties-and with all men other than her husband she considered her sexual activities as a profession.
She could've held back if she'd known in time. But maybe it was better to melt so quickly with Floyd. It would probably blend in better with the act she'd started; and it was certain to please Floyd to be left embedded hard and strong in her limpness. Most men got a special bang out of making a woman come without coming themselves.
Sharon didn't try to suppress the soft little moans that began spilling from between her parted lips; nor did she try to halt or slow down the wild movements of her heated body. She arched and wrapped her long legs around Floyd's waist, pumping to and around his plunging prick all the while, aware enough not to do too much damage to his back and shoulders with her fingernails as she toppled over the brink and spasmed into fiery ecstasy.
Floyd made a few more thrusts after Sharon had settled back onto the mattress and then he pushed in and held his cock firmly in place. Betty had told him about Dan's huge cock, and even after all of his many experiences with so many females he was still amazed at the ability of most women to adjust themselves to the size of a man. Sharon's wonderful cunt was a little juicy now, of course, but it was still tight, still fitting snugly around his rigid rod.
"You didn't make it," Sharon said. "Don't you like me? Didn't you like the way I did it, Floyd?"
"On the contrary," Floyd said, gazing into the beautiful blue eyes that were still filmed with passion. "You just might be the best piece I've ever had, Sharon. It's just that since I'm older I'm also slower. I'm crazy about you, really, and I'd like to donate to the fund you're building for your trip to Nevada."
"You make me feel almost like a-a whore," Sharon said. "Maybe that's what I am, anyway. Just because I am letting you screw me like this, I mean. Are you going to teach me other things? Since you've promised not to tell anybody what we do I want to try just about everything. But maybe you'd rather get your gun before you start to-"
Sharon let her words trial off as she realized that she might be talking too much, might even be knocking out all the progress she'd made toward collecting some money. She chewed on her lower lip as Floyd started screwing her again. His eyes were still meeting hers, though, and he didn't seem perturbed because of what she'd said. But why didn't he say something? She could tell that he wasn't even close to starting his final drive.
Floyd suddenly stopped his steady strokes and then just as quickly withdrew. It had entered his mind that Sharon might be whoring with him, might be with him only for a possible financial gain, but he didn't really care if that happened to be the case. He could afford to pay, and would willingly do so-
"I just thought we'd try another position while I'm fresh and strong," Floyd said, seeing the puzzled expression in Sharon's blue eyes. "Is that all right with you?"
"Yes," Sharon said, deciding that she'd better at least prepare the way for making a token protest about taking money. "I'm willing to try just about anything as long as you forget what I jokingly said about feeling like a whore. I like you or I wouldn't be with you, but I've been doing fairly well saving money for my divorce without accepting pay for what I'm finding great pleasure in doing. How are we going to do it now?"
"I'd thought about having you sit on my lap," Floyd said, staring at the blonde triangle. "With you facing and straddling me where I could get my mouth on your lovely titties, I mean. And with my prick buried in your lovely pussy, of course! Do you mind if I talk like that?"
"No," Sharon said. "I find it quite exciting. Are we going to use the side of the bed or a chair?"
"I'm afraid that we're going to have to postpone making that decision and using that position for a few minutes," Floyd said, slowly lowering his face toward the hot crevice he'd so recently explored and enjoyed with his stiff shaft. He exhaled his breath from between his parted lips as he got close to the pink outer lips. "Maybe, since you've never experienced this type of pleasure before, my lovely beauty, you'd better kind of brace yourself."
Sharon lurched to the greedy mouth and then to the greedily delving tongue. She also let out a series of little gasps and grabbed Floyd's surprisingly thick sandy hair with her hands, then dug her fingers into his bobbing scalp.
The older man was very good at the intimate act, she thought. Not as good as Dan, of course, but she really didn't want to ever find a man who'd compare favorably with her darling husband in any fashion.
Sharon moaned quite loudly, lifted her eagerly squirming ass off the mattress, and bluntly told Floyd where she wanted him to put his finger.
Floyd heard and quickly obeyed, thinking rather dimly that the luscious and lustful beauty was losing her inhibitions very rapidly. Next she just might be telling him to shift around where she could get his cock in her mouth and her finger in his hole.
But nothing she did would really make her a liar. She had told about having secret thoughts, wild daydreams, and it was only reasonable to assume that if she'd gotten the nerve to do one thing she'd soon have the nerve to try them all.
Sharon, thinking much the same thing, but also willing to gamble because of the truth that her passions were raging out of control, soon spoke the words that Floyd had been expecting.
And when the shift had been made, the circuit closed, they both forgot about money and love and everything else. There wasn't anything in their private little world except the physical sexual pleasures they both craved and both had to have in one way or another.
CHAPTER EIGHT
STARING INTO THE MIRROR OVER THE HUGE BED, seeing her own reflected nakedness-and Dan's muscular nakedness and huge erection-Betty decided that she'd go get Thelma. That dusky young beauty would jump at the chance to try and reduce Dan's big cock to an exhausted state of limpness. Betty closed her eyes. And Dan had been damned anxious to bury his prick in the colored gal for days.
For ten days, actually. Because this was the tenth afternoon since that First time she'd been with Dan. Had it really been nine lengthy sessions? Yes. On Sunday she and Floyd had gone to visit her folks, giving her a rest that she hadn't even admitted to herself that she'd needed. But now-Betty opened her eyes and looked directly at the proudly poking penis-she just about had to admit that she was really quite tired.
Her jaws even ached slightly. She'd gotten on top and bounced like crazy for what must've been almost an hour; then she'd spent just about that much time laboring with her mouth. Still he hadn't come. He'd laughed when she'd stopped. And then he'd closed his eyes and said that he'd take a little nap. Apparently he was sleeping while still having the tremendous hard-on. His eyes were still closed and he hadn't moved or made a sound in ten or fifteen minutes. What a man he was. What a stud!
Betty carefully swung from the bed. They couldn't very well play cards with him in that condition. Besides, she really didn't like to play poker. If she had the nerve, if she didn't think that it might mean driving him away, she'd call a halt to what was little more than a silly farce. But Dan just might take it as an insult if she simply gave him the money-even if she did suspect that he needed the money more than he'd admitted.
That he was getting a little tired of her, of course, was another factor that she had to take into consideration. Not that she couldn't understand that easily enough. She missed going to the swinging parties and balling it with a variety of partners. But Floyd hadn't wanted to go out in the evenings, or have swapping parties in their apartment, so she'd willingly gone along with his wishes. Mainly because she had quite a crush on Dan McKay-in a sexual way, at least-and she wanted to save her energy for him and his delightful dick.
Floyd was obviously very infatuated with Sharon. Maybe even in love with the blonde beauty. It was a fact that he wouldn't talk about her. Other than to say that he was meeting Sharon just about every afternoon, and making a great deal of progress in his campaign to turn the lovely young woman into a swinger, Floyd hadn't really given any information about Sharon McKay.
She wasn't even sure that he'd progressed to the point where they'd gone to bed. When questioned-and Floyd knew that she was very interested in hearing all about Sharon and Sharon's fabulous body-Floyd had just grinned or laughed and said that he was fairly certain that Sharon wasn't gay.
That was a dig at her, of course. He'd been telling her for quite some time that she'd eventually start going down on women. That he was undoubtedly telling the truth, of course-as she had started to think more and more about giving it a try-had caused her not to really press him for more information about his relationship with Sharon. That was the only subject that she couldn't discuss with Floyd without embarrassment on her part.
As for the truth that Floyd hadn't touched her since the night they'd last shared Thelma-well, that didn't mean a thing. He'd gone just as long before without getting aroused around her. So, looking at it from that angle, it could be possible that Tie hadn't yet screwed Sharon. Besides, she'd been so anxious to be fresh and eager for her afternoon sessions with Dan that she'd been glad when her husband hadn't shown any interest in sex. She hadn't even used Thelma's expert services very often, for that matter-and she'd only had to masturbate two or three times.
While thinking these thoughts, and while still naked, Betty had left the mirrored bedroom and gone in search of Thelma. She found the sexy colored maid in the living room. The girl was sitting on a couch, one long brown leg crossed over the other, her pretty face partially hidden by a magazine she held with her long brown fingers.
"Is it an interesting story, Thelma?"
Thelma lowered the magazine and smiled broadly, her black eyes gleaming as she looked at Betty's nakedness. "Yes, Miss Betty. It's about a beautiful young girl knocked up by one man, in love with another, and living with still another because the third one had loaned money to the second. The first one doesn't know that she's with child, of course, but even though he has a wife he-"
"All right," Betty interrupted. "It sound like a very fascinating story, Thelma, but I'm sure that you'll be willing to put off finishing it for what I have in mind. Say, the unfortunate girl you just mentioned reminds me of something very important. You haven't missed taking your pills, have no?"
"Oh, no!"
"Good," Betty said, wishing that she had to take the pill, thinking that if nature hadn't seen fit to foul up her womb she might be a far different person. She almost laughed aloud. Why the hell couldn't she be honest even in her thoughts! She didn't really want to be any different!
"What did you have in mind, Miss Betty?"
Thelma had tossed the magazine aside and gotten to her feet. Betty told herself to go ahead and be completely honest with herself; to go ahead and admit that she wanted to see Dan and Thelma having sex together. She did want to watch, to join, and it really had nothing to do with the fact that Dan had an erection that she hadn't been able to diminish-or that she was afraid that she was thinking far too much of the younger man.
But Betty couldn't quite be honest with herself. Not completely. She did admit to herself that she was going to put her mouth on another female at the first opportunity, but she rejected the idea of going the whole route with the pretty and beautifully stacked colored girl. Some things simply weren't done.
"I've decided to let you have your fun with Dan, Thelma. You've certainly been wanting him badly enough."
"The three of us?" Thelma asked softly. "Just like when we're with Mister Floyd?"
Betty laughed nervously. "We'll just have to wait and find out how it goes, Thelma. Dan might not want to do the things that my husband likes to do-and then again he might not be so prejudiced when it comes to kissing. I think that we'd better just let him kind of call the shots."
"All right," Thelma said. "Anything you say, Miss Betty. Just anything at all will always be perfectly all right with me.
Betty felt a little shudder run up and down her spine.
The lovely brown girl was too wise, the black eyes were far too knowing. Maybe she'd better start thinking about getting rid of Thelma. Even some of her swinging friends would disapprove of the role the colored girl already played-
Dan hadn't been asleep when Betty left. He'd been faking, hoping for what he was sure that Betty had finally decided to do. His hints about giving it a go with Thelma, either alone or with Betty right with them, had been practically ignored. From what Betty had said he'd surmised that the dark-haired sex-nut was afraid of what she might do with or to the colored girl. An unthinkable act, he guessed, even for a Southern white man-so he could well imagine the pain or whatever such thoughts caused a Southern white woman.
He wasn't even sure just how he felt about the matter. He'd been that intimate several times with several attractive colored girls, but he hadn't gone around talking about it. He wasn't ashamed, but he wasn't all that proud, either. Such activities were taboo in many quarters-with anybody-and when the race issue was involved things could get quite touchy.
He didn't like the idea of Sharon knowing that he'd even screw Thelma or any other colored female-and he sure as hell didn't even like to think about the idea of Sharon doing anything with a colored male.
So he was prejudiced. Wasn't everybody? And why should it be wrong to be prejudiced where sex was concerned? It wasn't, really, and using the somewhat derogatory term in relation to any kind of sex was stupid. That would be like saying that he was prejudiced where fat and ugly females were concerned-which he was-and then going on to say that he was prejudiced just because he didn't want anything to do with gay men. And that had nothing to do with fears about being a latent homo, either. He'd proved that he didn't have to worry about that when he'd been a passive kid in Chicago.
Dan had been looking into the mirror over the bed. His pecker was still thrusting straight up. Betty had been becoming more and more amazed at his stamina. At times he'd been tempted to tell her that she was dealing with a professional. Because that was what he was. She'd been engulfing the most important tool of his trade. He'd trained himself to keep his tool hard, of course, but that wasn't the only reason Betty was having such a difficult time in making it limp.
He was tired of Betty. She was becoming boring to him. He'd had her too often and too many times. She'd seemingly put a price on his services, too. She wasn't stupid, so she just about had to know that the poker games were only his way of getting paid. He didn't have to cheat to win, but she'd apparently put a limit on how much she was going to lose. Fifty dollars each day.
When he'd won that amount she'd quit playing. Hell, that wasn't much money. He could probably make that much on a job of some kind. Being bored with Betty wasn't the main problem, though. He wasn't really so tired of her pussy and of her mouth that he couldn't take any more. He could keep on for days and weeks, as he had with boring hot bitches in the past, but that would mean that Sharon would keep on seeing Floyd.
Dan closed his eyes. There it was, he thought. He might as well face everything and get his mind made up one way or the other. Sharon was changing. They'd never had all that much sex together when they were actually working the racket as fast as they'd been going at it with Betty and Floyd, but there'd still been some sex between them. There'd never been excuses by Sharon about being tired, or having a headache, or needing to conserve their strength.
Could it be possible that Sharon was really considering Floyd's offer? Or taking it seriously? She'd told him about the line she'd given the man about saving for a divorce; they'd even jokingly said that they might take a trip to Nevada for some gambling after they'd taken Floyd and Betty for as much money as they could. Or until they'd both gotten sick and tired of the older couple.
Then, after the second afternoon Floyd had taken Sharon to a hotel room, she'd casually announced that the older man had said that he was in love with her. He'd laughed, knowing that husbands had told her that before, and Sharon had surprised him by getting angry. That had also been when she'd told him that Floyd had given her five hundred dollars and offered to go with her to Reno or Las Vegas whenever she was ready.
He'd immediately seen that there might be some really big money involved. Not that he really wanted a divorce, of course-or that he wanted Sharon to even think about marrying Floyd. But Sharon had listened as he'd told her to really hang into the guy for the big stake he'd always wanted-for the big stake they had always wanted, he'd quickly corrected himself-and Sharon had rather coldly said that she'd do her best.
But from that time on she'd changed. She hadn't talked much about Floyd, just saying that everything was going' along fine, and she'd only put another five hundred dollars in the bureau drawer where they kept their money. She could be holding out on him. She'd even kept meeting Floyd the three or four days during her period. They'd just talked, she'd said-and gone for walks in the park. She'd gotten angry again when he'd kiddingly asked if the guy hadn't even requested a hand job.
Yes, Sharon had changed enough so that she had him quite worried. Maybe she was just kind of putting pressure on him, trying to get him to admit his love for her, but it could also be possible that she was really working up to getting a divorce. Maybe she had shifted her love for him to Floyd.
He didn't really believe that, of course! But she just might be planning on hooking the rich man into marriage. Even if he was sure that most of the wealth came from Betty-or from Betty's father-Floyd undoubtedly had plenty salted away. Maybe it was time to move on. They had enough money to move to another apartment, to another city or town, and-
Dan's thoughts were broken off by a soft little giggle. Remembering that he was supposed to be asleep, and knowing that the faint sound hadn't come from Betty, Dan opened his eyes slowly-pretending that he was slowly awakening. But the two females weren't looking at his face. Thelma was staring at his stiff cock and Betty was staring at the brown girl.
Thelma had just finished slipping out of the curve-hugging white dress. Her brief white bra and panties were in sharp contrast with her smooth-looking brown flesh. It seemed to Dan that Betty was just as anxious as he was for the unveiling. She was gazing as if she hadn't seen the girl's body many times before. He remembered that Betty had once told him that she'd been thinking about going down on a female-even the colored maid.
Dan could sense that Betty hadn't yet done so. Maybe he'd help things along, he thought, admiring the large brown breasts as those lovely mounds were freed. The jutting beauties were almost as large as Sharon's. In fact, aside from the different color-dark brown instead of golden-the dusky gal's beautiful body was startlingly similar to his beautiful wife's.
Thelma's black eyes left Dan's thrusting manhood as she leaned over to peel out of the panties. Dan sat upright, sure that the girl had meant to throw herself upon him and quickly engulf his rigid rod with either her mouth or her pussy, and he wasn't ready for that kind of penetration. He just might not last all that long with the fresh stuff and the more he thought about it the more he wanted to see Betty capitulate to her own twisted desires. He should be able to profit in some manner after witnessing an all-out act of Lesbianism by the hot-ass female.
"I thought I'd give you a pleasant surprise," Betty said, shortly after pulling her eyes from Thelma's dark triangle.
Dan had pulled his gaze from the exciting sight just seconds before. "You succeeded," he said, grinning and then looking at Thelma's lovely nakedness again before meeting the girl's blazing black eyes. "I consider myself quite an expert at doing what I understand you enjoy doing to and for Betty, Thelma. Do you have any objections to starting our fun and pleasure in that fashion?"
"Oh, no! I don't have any objections at all, Mister Dan!"
With those rather loud and happy-sounding words, and before Betty could've protested had that been her intention when she opened her mouth to speak, Thelma gave a graceful little leap and landed upon the enormous bed. Dan found that the brown flesh was just as smooth as it looked when he grabbed a hard-tipped tit with one hand and a cheek of the very firm ass with the other hand.
This as he pushed himself up and around the bed, partly to protect himself from the weight of the leaping girl's sleek body, partly to help position that sleek brown nakedness where he could do what he'd said he was going to do-and where he hoped that he could get Betty to do the same thing.
"I wanted to watch as you put it in and gave it to her," Betty said. "Besides, I'm not sure that I approve of you putting your mouth to a colored girl like that, Dan."
"We have plenty of time and I have plenty of strength for you to be able to watch anything and everything," Dan said, not surprised that Betty had been climbing onto the bed even as she spoke. He lowered his face and flicked his tongue to and around one of Thelma's erect nipples. "Besides, I've never heard of the color rubbing off." He winked at Thelma and that broadly smiling gal winked back. "Have you ever heard of anything like that happening, Thelma?"
The pretty colored girl suddenly sobered. She was already holding her shapely body perfectly still. "I like working here for Miss Betty, Mister Dan, and I-well, I wouldn't want anything to happen that she doesn't want to happen."
"Nothing will," Dan said, knowing that Thelma had either guessed or sensed his intentions. She had to know what Betty had been wanting to do, and all he'd be doing would be giving the necessary encouragement. Betty could always fight and run. No, he wouldn't really use force.
Dan was on his hands and knees on one side of Thelma, Betty was positioned the same way on the other side of the naked girl. And Betty, of course, was just as naked-and her dark eyes were focused upon the jutting mound of dark flesh nearest her. Dan smiled when he saw Betty's pink tongue come out and lick around her own full lips. If he handled it right it was going to be fairly easy. Was there really any harm in helping the woman find the nerve to do what she had a desire to do?
"You've admitted to kissing female breasts, Betty. You've even admitted to kissing other women on the mouth. Anything that happens will only be known by the three of us. Right, Thelma?"
The colored girl didn't answer. She'd closed her eyes and Dan felt one of her smooth and warm thighs push out against his. He knew that Thelma was just as hot as Betty always was. Two highly-sexed females, he thought. With him, a highly-sexed male, and if he could just get Betty to become totally uninhibited with Thelma they could really have a blistering threesome scene. Plus, of course, there'd be an opportunity to get some big money from the white women.
He leaned his face down and popped an elongated nipple into his mouth. He sucked, drawing at the smoothly hard spike enough to bring a little gasp from Thelma-and he didn't have to look to know that Betty was doing much the same to the other nipple. He could feel her soft hair brushing against his cheek and the sounds told him that she was already well on the way to losing herself in lustful greediness.
Dan used his hands to explore Thelma's body, unable to resist feeling of the warm nakedness that he meant to have later, but when he had her squirming heatedly-with the help of his and Betty's lavish attentions being bestowed upon her resilient titties-he shifted his hands to Betty's equally as warm, smooth and firm body.
He deliberately fingered the white woman in a teasing manner. He soon had her ass arching up and hunching back. Then he changed his tactics and had her pressing and pushing her soft pussy down against his hand, his fingers, and then against the colored girl's squirming body. Soon he was just as lustfully passionate as the two writhing females. But he didn't allow that to alter the course of action he'd started.
Dan practically had to pry Betty's greedy mouth from Thelma's swollen nipple. When he'd done that, at the same time managing to push himself and Betty a little lower on the bed-and lower on Thelma's exciting nakedness-he glued his mouth to Betty's opened mouth. He held the tongue-probing and then the tongue-sucking kiss until he'd gotten both their faces down in the general vicinity of the colored girl's belly button.
Even that indentation was similar to Sharon's. But Dan thrust thoughts of his wife aside. Just about as easily as he thrust his tongue into the shallow navel. Betty's dark eyes were glittering. She licked her lips and then didn't resist as Dan gently turned her face and moistly parted lips toward Thelma's taut and trembling stomach.
Betty darted her tongue. Dan removed his fingers from her silky hair. He watched as Betty slowly began trailing her parted lips and jabbing tongue lower and lower. Thelma's rounded thighs and already eagerly parted; now her brown butt lifted several inches from the sheet-covered mattress.
Dan had already fingered the very short and very black pubic hairs. They felt and looked like a black mat, a soft carpet, and he was rather sorry that he wasn't going to get a chance to lead the way. Because Betty was trailing right on down, apparently forgetting all about him, her fingers slipping underneath and clasping the uplifted buttocks.
Thelma gasped and lurched even higher as Betty made the final move. Dan pulled his own face and upper body back as soon as he saw that Betty wasn't going to stop. In fact, Betty was going at Thelma's snatch as if she never meant to stop-or couldn't.
"Come up here, Mister Dan! Miss Betty doesn't really need you! Believe me, I can tell!"
Dan decided that he could also tell that Betty didn't need him. Not right then, anyhow. The white woman was really lost in her newly-discovered Lesbian lust. He looked up at Thelma's passion-filmed black eyes. He suddenly doubted that he could last very long, but he didn't think that Thelma would care. He even sensed that the girl wanted to finish him with her mouth while Betty was laboring so greedily-and so happily.
Dan had been shifting his feverish body while the thoughts were flickering through his feverish mind. He straddled Thelma's pretty face, failing to suppress a little groan as her smooth fingers eagerly grasped his throbbingly hard flesh. Then one hand tugged his stiff shaft to her moistly parted lips as the fingers on her other hand gently fondled his hanging sac.
"All the way," Thelma whispered, flicking the tip of her hot tongue against the tip of his hot cock. "Please don't stop, Mister Dan! Please! I really enjoy finishing a man like this!"
Dan forced a little chuckle, feeling rather silly because he was being called Mister under such circumstances. "I can't very well stop anything until you've started, can I?"
The girl answered by opening her mouth wide and engulfing the head of his prick. Dan didn't try to suppress his groans of pleasure. But even as he thrilled to the lavish worship, then the wondrous sensation of having just about all of his big dick engulfed by the greedy girl, he knew that he couldn't blackmail Betty because of what she was doing to the brown girl. That would mean taking a chance on Sharon finding out what he was doing-and what he'd probably be doing a little later.
"I'm coming!" Dan McKay suddenly exclaimed.
And he did.
CHAPTER NINE
THELMA WORKED FOR OVER AN HOUR CLEANING the apartment she sometimes shared with her stepfather and stepbrother. She often said that she'd never return to the place, meaning it at the time, but she seldom let more than three or four days pass without going back to do what she considered a kind of duty.
Rudy Washington had married Thelma's mother when Thelma was ten. She'd never known her own father. Or his name. He'd died before she was born, her mother had said-and before there'd been a chance for a wedding. Thelma didn't really care that she was a bastard; nor that she'd gone by her mother's last name before her stepfather had insisted that she use his. Thelma liked to think that she was the result of a beautiful passion shared between her very dark mother and a light-skinned gentleman who'd had enough sense not to get tied down to one steady piece of tail.
Thelma's mother had been hot stuff. Thelma had done a lot of peeking before and after Rudy had moved in with his twelve-year-old son. There had been a marriage, her mother's only one, and Junior was just as black as his father. Thelma and Junior had started screwing right away. And had branched out into the more fancy erotic activities very quickly.
When Thelma was thirteen her mother got drunk, tumbled down a flight and broke her neck. Thelma had been very unhappy, but like most youngsters she'd recovered from her grief within a few days. She took her mother's place around the apartment, cooking and cleaning, and since she was already sharing sexual pleasures with the son it was very easy for her to drift into doing the same thing with the father.
There were two bedrooms. Thelma had one and Junior slept on the couch in the living room. One night Thelma waited until Junior had gotten his and had gone back to the couch, then went to her stepfather's bedroom. She knew that he had to be lonely and in great need of what she had to offer.
She'd also seen him naked, and using his big black snake on her mother, so she'd also been thinking of the pleasures possible for her. Rudy, as she'd thought of him in her mind after that, hadn't said a word when she'd crawled into bed with him. In fact he'd even made a rather feeble attempt to push her away.
But she'd grabbed his big stiff black snake with one hand and pulled one of his hands to her hot little pussy with her other hand. Not that her cunt had been all that little. It had been stretched by Junior and several other boys with sizable pricks and since-she was already well on her way to womanhood there wasn't much of a problem.
She'd learned how easy it was to adjust to the various sizes of cocks for the first time, really, and after taking care of the little chore she'd always done for Junior she got Rudy up again with her mouth. He'd used his mouth, sending her almost out of her mind with joy-since he was so much more experienced with his mouth and tongue than Junior and the several other boys and from that time on she'd assumed all the wifely duties on a regular basis.
She was sure that Rudy and Junior had always known that they were sharing her, with each other and with anybody else she took a fancy to, but there'd never been any talk about it. As time passed, as she got older and even hotter, Junior had suggested that they could make money with him pimping for her. But she hadn't felt that it would be fair to charge for something that she probably enjoyed more than a man.
She really liked to make men happy. And women. A neighbor woman had introduced her to Lesbianism when she was fifteen. That thrilling experience, and she'd gone the whole delightful route without hesitating for one moment, hadn't detracted from her great sexual happiness with men-it had just helped to broaden the scope of her own erotic activities.
Miss Betty had certainly broadened her scope or something that afternoon, Thelma thought, rinsing the soap suds off her jutting breasts. Yes, Miss Betty had finally done what she'd been wanting to do for a long, long time. And Mister Dan! That white man was really a man! Thelma sobered. She hoped that she wasn't going to lose her job because of what had happened. Mister Dan had looked right into her eyes afterward, and had still been very friendly, but Miss Betty had acted embarrassed and ashamed.
Because she was colored, she guessed-she knew-but maybe Miss Betty wouldn't fire her. There hadn't been any talk like that. Miss Betty had just asked if she was going home that night, in such a way that she could take the hint, and maybe everything would work out all right. She could always find another place to work, of course, but she certainly enjoyed being with Miss Betty and Mister Floyd. They paid good money, too. Well, she'd just have to wait until the next day and see what happened. Maybe it would turn out that she could get in on some of the swapping parties. Wouldn't that be something!
"Oh! Hi, Thelma! I didn't know that you were in here!"
Thelma looked at Junior standing in the bathroom doorway. "You do now," she said, smiling. "Well, what are you waiting for? If you have to take a leak go right ahead. What's wrong with you? It certainly isn't as if I've never-"
"I don't have to go," Junior interrupted, averting his eyes. "To tell you the truth, Thelma, I heard you in here and came to close the door. I brought a friend up for a beer and he's in the kitchen." Junior looked at Thelma and laughed nervously. "I thought you might not want him to see you naked."
"Don't try and give me a line of bull, Junior! Did you see me come up here? I'll bet that you stuck your head out of that pool hall just long enough to see me! Are you trying to peddle my ass!"
"No! I only owe the guy a couple of bucks, anyhow! He's a swell guy, Thelma. He's a pool shark, really, and he's been giving me some pointers on how to hold a stick. My game's been off lately and I can't seem to win."
"You should be learning how to hold a job instead of a cue stick," Thelma said, not unkindly. "I'll give you the couple of bucks to pay the fellow, Junior. What does he look like?"
Junior had been staring at Thelma's titties. "I think you'd like him," he said, grinning and showing his perfect white teeth. "I'm not trying to hustle your butt, Thelma. Honest. Art's maybe thirty, I guess, and about as tall as I am and a little darker than you. He's clean and I know how important that is to you. How about it?"
"How about what?" Thelma asked teasingly.
Junior frowned. "Yes or no, Thelma. I bragged about you and Art's excited because I didn't tell him that we're really not brother and sister. Pop won't be home for at least three or four hours. He's painting some offices and has to wait until the people clear out for the day. What should I tell Art?"
"Tell him to flip himself," Thelma said, laughing. Then: "Give me a few minutes. But if you charge him I'll-"
Thelma didn't finish the sentence. Junior had winked and left the doorway-and she didn't really have any way of knowing if there'd be a profit for her stepbrother. It wasn't the first time Junior had brought a friend around for some fun and he'd just as soon lie as tell the truth. And the man named Art certainly wouldn't admit to paying if Junior had warned against it.
Having already felt the welcome surge of excitement, her nipples rock-hard from just seeing and being seen by Junior, Thelma had to force herself to take the time to drain and clean the tub.
After cleaning the apartment and washing the dirty dishes that had accumulated since her last visit, she'd wanted and needed a bath-but mostly she'd wanted to relax in the warm water and think about the pleasures she'd shared with the sexy white couple.
She dried quickly and didn't even bother to wrap the large towel around her nakedness. Junior and Art were already in her bedroom, as she figured they would be, and Junior was undressed and on the bed. Art was just standing there near the center of the room, still wearing his shirt and slacks, a rather foolish grin on his face. A handsome face, Thelma thought, enjoying the way the gleaming black eyes admired her body, smiling and swaying over to stand beside the bed.
"What's wrong, brother? Your snake isn't even hard yet!"
"You know what to do about that, sister," Junior said, winking at Thelma and then looking at Art. "I told you that she'd be willing, didn't I? We do this all the time. Hell, sex to us isn't any more important than shooting a game of pool."
"I'm not sure that I'll go along with that," Thelma said, sitting down on the side of the bed and putting her fingers on Junior's limp cock. "Sex is the most important thing in the world to me."
"You know what I meant," Junior said, watching as his pecker began to lift and expand under Thelma's active fingers. "Now you know that I wasn't lying, Art. Have you ever seen a better hunk of female flesh?" He chuckled. "Or a male hunk, for that matter!"
"I've never been interested in pricks," Art said, speaking for the first time. "Soft or hard."
"That's good news," Thelma said, looking at the bulge that was appearing in the front of Art's trousers. About average, she thought, deciding that she wouldn't have to bother with a lubricant for what she had in mind. She kept her fingers busy on Junior's big cock, his stiff erection, and looked at Art's handsome face. "If you can stop looking at me long enough you might get undressed and give me a look-see, Art. Unless, of course, you're just here to watch."
"And I thought that I'd had some strange experiences before," Art said, meeting Thelma's eyes only briefly-seemingly unwilling or unable to stop gazing at her nakedness. He began unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm afraid that I don't have as much to offer as Junior does, though."
"You're old enough to know that size isn't really all that important," Thelma said, positioning her ass on the side of the bed so that Art could look directly at her crotch. "There's one thing that I want you to know, Art. All sex is beautiful to me and if you look upon it as a kind of ugliness then I'd rather you'd leave before you finish undressing. Are you married?"
"I was," Art said, managing to kneel to remove his shoes and keep his eyes fixed on Thelma's twat all the while. "She thought sex was ugly so I left her. She thought I was an animal just because I went down on her."
Junior chuckled. "Which reminds me of something, sister! I'm kind of slow in coming, you know, so maybe you'd better get things started if the three of us are going to finish at the same time during this first session. J have the feeling that Art will be ready to pop his cookies within a very short time!"
Thelma had thought of the same thing. She twisted her upper body around and leaned over and began kissing up and down the length of the stiffly thrusting black shaft. Mister Dan's was just as large, she thought, glancing around to see how Art was doing. That brown man was naked, his poking pecker was just about the right size for what she enjoyed so much, and he was just stepping out of the circle formed by his trousers and shorts. She was glad that she hadn't had to remind him to remove his socks.
"Don't put it in yet," Thelma said to Art, quickly getting onto the bed on her hands and knees between Junior's legs. "And you don't have to worry about me calling you an animal!"
Thelma lowered her opened mouth and engulfed the entire head of Junior's rigid rod. Art got on the bed, on his back, and slipped his face under and between Thelma's thighs. Junior grabbed Thelma's head and arched upward, pushing in deeper, and Thelma lowered her soft mound of hot flesh to Art's face. Art's strong fingers gripped Thelma's ass and tugged, his tongue slithering into Thelma's slit and quickly finding her stiff and slippery clit.
Thelma wished that males could go on and on like females could. Without exploding-or with the ability to go on and on even after exploding. Mister Dan had come very close to doing it. He'd recovered almost immediately-or his lovely dick had-and most of the time Junior was stiff and ready within a minute or two.
Feeling the rippling shudders beginning deep within her own body, knowing that even Junior couldn't last all that much longer without a brief time-out or rest, afraid that Art might expend himself by thrashing around at the foot of the bed, Thelma lifted her mouth and her face.
Only then did she realize that Junior had already removed his hands from her head, his fingers from her hair. His eyes were closed and he was breathing rapidly with his mouth wide open. Art was still lapping feverishly and one of his fingers was poking gently at her other very sensitive entrance. She decided to gamble and let her passion flow. That was apparently what Art wanted, was eagerly seeking, and she might as well make him happy. Along with herself, Thelma thought a little wildly, pushing down and squirming through a spasmodic climax.
Quickly lifting, anxious to find out if Art had shot his load, Thelma found herself being rolled over on her back by Art's hands. But she clamped her legs tightly together as he threw himself upon her, his stiff prick trying to jab between her thighs welcome proof that he hadn't blasted off.
"Take it easy, Art! Tell him what I want, Junior!"
Junior laughed. "Thelma wants you to use the back door, Art! Hell, why didn't you tell him yourself, Thelma? Look at him go!"
Art had clamped his mouth onto Thelma's left nipple and was sucking like crazy. Junior rolled over on his side and started sucking on Thelma's right elongated nipple. Thelma put her hands on both their heads and pulled down, at the same time thrusting even more of her hard-tipped mounds of resilient flesh into their greedily feasting mouths.
"I guess we're all just about hot enough to make it together now," Thelma finally said, removing her hands from the two heads. "I've already made it once, of course, but I can make it just about any time I care to turn on."
Art pulled his mouth away from her jutting breast and raised his face. His black eyes were blazing wildly. And he was still jabbing and trying to bury his prick between her closed thighs. Thelma had the fleeting thought that it was a good thing that her hairs were silky soft. Otherwise the overly-excited man might do some damage to his swollen cock.
"Let me put it in, Thelma! Let me slip it into your cunt right now!"
"Maybe it would be better to work it that way," Thelma said. "The first time, anyhow. Did you hear, Junior? But you'd better take the time to get some Vas-"
Junior interrupted by lifting his mouth and face from Thelma's tit and saying, "I have a better idea. Move, Art, and let me show you what I mean. Hell, man, you're acting as if you'd never had any pussy before!"
"I'm sorry," Art said, pulling up and away, then moving to the side of the bed on his hands and knees. "I just got carried away because it is almost as if I'd never had any pussy before, I guess. Not any that seemed as good to me as Thelma's, anyway."
"Thank you," Thelma said, reaching up and patting Art's cheek. She moved her other hand down to guide Junior's cock. She'd known about his idea-as they'd done it that way before. She just hadn't been sure that Junior would have the necessary will power it would take to withdraw. He was crazy about her pussy, too.
But Junior only made a couple of strokes after he'd slowly eased his thick shaft into Thelma's already very moist cunt. "See," Junior said, pulling out and away. "Now it should slip in just fine."
Thelma saw that Art didn't look. Maybe the man didn't trust himself to look at a man's prick, Thelma thought. Maybe Art was fighting himself just as Miss Betty had fought her desires. Not that she had forced Miss Betty to do anything. Nor had Mister Dan, for that matter. The lovely white woman had certainly learned fast! If such delightful activities had to be learned.
"Climb on and put it in, Art. After we get going we'll roll over on our sides and-well, Junior knows what to do then."
"I should! I've done it often enough! Go on, Art!
Haven't you ever made this scene before? It's the wildest, really, and after we're in all we have to do is hold on-and in! Thelma likes to do most of the moving until right at the very last."
"I just can't seem to get used to the idea of doing anything with a sister and a brother," Art said. "I mean-well, I don't have a sister, but-"
"Let's cut out the yapping and get to screwing," Thelma interrupted. "I was hoping that we could get in at least two blistering sessions before I have to cook supper. You are going to stay for supper, aren't you, Art?"
"She's also a very good cook," Junior said, chuckling.
"What characters you two are," Art said, crawling over and positioning himself between Thelma's thighs. He groaned as he buried his throbbing manhood in Thelma's hot flesh. "Hot damn! I don't think I can last for more than a minute or so!"
"Then hold perfectly still," Thelma said.
"And roll over," Junior said, helping them to do just that, then quickly getting on his side behind Thelma. "Maybe we'd better let Art call the shots, Thelma. I think that I can time myself just about right."
Thelma didn't say anything. She was too busy returning Art's opened mouth kiss. And sucking on Art's tongue. She wished that there was another man present so that she wouldn't have to settle for a tongue. She even thought how nice it would be if she had a throbbing cock in each hand right then. Five going off at the same time she went off would really be something! Maybe she'd make the suggestion to Junior.
When Junior was in he stopped at exactly the right depth. Thelma slowly began to move back and forth. She thrust forward against Art, then pushed back against Junior, her entire body tinglingly aware of the wondrous sensations each movement caused.
All too soon Thelma felt the telltale throbbing in both joy-sticks. She pulled her mouth from Art's so that she could gaze into his eyes. She liked to see the passion registering. It added greatly to her pleasure. She wished that there were mirrors like in the Denning bedroom so that she could see Junior's face and eyes. She could feel his fingers gripping her hips. Art's fingers were squeezing her throbbing titties. She began to use both sets of her inner muscles.
"Now let's all move together," Thelma whispered.
Soon they were doing just that. It felt so good that Thelma had to close her eyes. It was glorious, truly wonderful and truly beautiful. It was like she hoped heaven would be. Even the bed was moving in perfect rhythm. The bed springs added a soft harmonious sound to the slap-slap of flesh against flesh and it seemed to Thelma that the three of them were even breathing in tune.
"Say when," Thelma said.
"When!" Art cried.
"Now!" Junior yelled.
"I'm blasting off to glory!" Thelma shouted.
And she was-and she did.
CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS ALMOST THE SAME AS THE FIRST TIME DAN and Sharon McKay had visited Floyd and Betty Denning. The four of them were sitting in the luxurious living room, sipping their drinks and chatting about nothing in particular-just as they had that first time the four of them had been together-but now they were all very uncomfortable.
Dan was afraid that Sharon was going to find out about his activities with Thelma that afternoon; and Betty was afraid that Floyd was going to find out about her venture into aggressive Lesbianism with the colored girl. These two both carefully avoided looking directly at each other, both fearful that the other might suddenly start saying things that were better left unsaid.
Sharon was afraid that Dan was going to be angry because she'd talked far too much to Floyd that afternoon in the hotel room; and Floyd was worried about what might happen during and after the little speech he meant to make. If he could ever figure out just what he wanted to say. These two also carefully avoided looking directly at each other. So, due to the various fears and worries, the two couples were spending most of the time suffering through strained silences.
After one of these long strained silences Floyd cleared his throat. Sharon, sitting beside Dan on one couch, uncrossed her legs and sat up very straight. Betty, sitting on another couch beside Floyd, did the same thing. Dan looked at Floyd when he saw that both women were looking at the older man. Dan also sensed that something very important to them all was going to happen-or was going to be said. Because Sharon had told him that Floyd had done the inviting, even though she'd refused to give him a clue as to the reason.
Dan forced a little chuckle. "I have the feeling that you have something on your mind, Floyd. Why don't you just go ahead and spit it out?"
"Yes," Betty said, finally meeting Dan's eyes for several seconds. "You insisted on this-this little get-together this evening, Floyd, and I'm sure that we're all very anxious to hear what you have on your mind. Isn't that right, Sharon?"
"I already have a general idea as to what Floyd's going to say," Sharon said. "Do you want me to do the talking, Floyd?"
"I think that I can manage," Floyd said. "It's just that I'm not sure where to start. Well, maybe you could get things going."
Sharon placed her hand on Dan's nearest knee and then quickly pulled it back into her lap. "I told Floyd about how we make our living, Dan. This afternoon after he-well, I just told him, that's all."
"That isn't all," Floyd said. "Sharon told me only after I offered to marry her. Asked her to marry me, is a better way to put it. I'd already told her that I loved her." Floyd chuckled. "This wedding was to take place after we'd both gotten divorces, of course!"
Betty glared at Floyd. "I should hope so! Why, you-you jaded old fart! You can't even handle me without all kinds of fancy frills! Just how the hell did you think that you were going to keep a beautiful young girl like Sharon happy! Not to even mention satisfied!"
"He did a very good job of it," Sharon said. "In fact, if I hadn't-if I didn't love Dan I would've married him in a minute. Money or no money, I'll even add."
"I've been like I was when I was younger," Floyd said. "Until today, that is. After Sharon told me about-well, I just couldn't perform after I heard about your business, Dan."
"Our racket," Dan said, hoping that Betty wouldn't get any screwy ideas about confessing. "I'm just about ready to move on so I guess it's just as well that everything's out in the open like this."
"It isn't out in the open as far as I'm concerned," Betty said. "All I know is that my fool of a husband thought he was in love and wanted to marry somebody else just because he could get as hard as he could when he was younger and not so jaded. There! Maybe I got my tongue twisted a couple of times, but I think I made myself clear enough."
Dan said that he'd explain if Betty would shut up and give him a chance. Betty did listen while Dan talked, smiling and glancing at Floyd now and then, and then she started laughing when Dan had finished giving a quick run-down on the way he and Sharon had been operating.
"Did you tell Sharon about us, Floyd?" Betty asked after she'd finally stopped laughing. "If we'd just been honest in the beginning, look at all the nonsense we could've eliminated!"
"I told Sharon," Floyd said. "Maybe she'd like to enlighten her husband right now."
"Floyd and Betty are real swingers," Sharon said, again resting her fingers upon Dan's nearest knee. "They've been swapping for years. They belong to a group of married swappers, I mean, and they go to those wild swinging parties we've heard and read about."
Dan pushed Sharon's hand from his knee rather roughly. He was sorry the moment he'd made the rash move, but he didn't know just what to do about it. In fact, he wasn't even sure how he felt about the way things were turning out-had turned out. He almost wished that he could simply stand up and take Sharon out of the apartment without another word. For the first time he felt real shame for making a mockery out of his marriage. Why? Because it was being talked about, he guessed.
"Well, we're having another long and strained silence," Betty said finally. "I can't see that anything has really changed all that much. Dan won the money he got from me and I'm sure that it was well worth it to Floyd no matter what amount he gave Sharon. I know that I would've willingly paid double what I lost playing poker. Why don't we just pair off right now and later we can discuss putting Dan and Sharon on a flat salary. How does that sound, Floyd?"
"I don't think that we'd be interested in anything like that," Dan said, wondering how much money Sharon had gotten out of Floyd. Or how much she'd held out on him. He looked into Betty's dark eyes. "That would put us in just about the same class as servants, wouldn't it?"
"Not necessarily," Floyd spoke up. "However, I'll have to say right now that I'm against such a plan. The whole idea is just a little too unhealthy-or something-even for me. I could help you find a job, Dan."
Sharon laughed. "You just said a dirty word where Dan's concerned, Floyd!"
"And how about you?" Dan asked. "Did you tell Floyd what you were doing before I picked you up? Before I married you?"
"No, but I will now. I was a whore, folks. The more polite term in call girl, of course, but no matter how it's said, I was hustling my ass-and my talents. I serviced countless men, many women, and then I married Dan and let him reform me."
There was another long silence. Floyd had a shocked look on his face and Dan could see the new greedy interest Betty was taking in Sharon's large knockers and long golden legs. Betty had really gotten hooked on pussy-lapping, all right. Dan looked at Sharon and when she didn't turn her beautiful face or eyes toward him he got to his feet. He sure as hell didn't want to see his wife in action-with a woman or a man!
"We were happy enough before we met these people, Sharon. Let's get the hell out of here-and out of the building. We can pack our clothes and leave, and maybe these nice swappers will turn the keys over to the real estate agent for us. Well, are you coming? Or would you rather go to bed with Floyd? Or Betty? Maybe you'd like to have them both at the same time. They have a mirrored bedroom with the largest bed you'll ever-"
"Just a damned minute," Floyd interrupted, getting to his feet. "You seem to somehow have the idea that you're better than we are since we admitted to swapping, Dan! Why? What gives you the right to look down your nose at us when you've been using your wife's body to make a major part of your income? Do you think you can come up with any reasonable and logical answers to those questions?"
"I certainly want to hear them," Betty said, also standing. "You and I have screwed and gone down on each other, I think I'm safe in saying that Floyd and Sharon have done the same thing, and now when you find out that we were swappers all along you get huffy about it. Hell, I just don't understand any of this!"
"Maybe some things just can't be explained," Dan said, looking at Floyd and then at Betty. "Do you think that you could explain to your husband what happened this afternoon?" Knowing that he'd said too much, Dan looked down at Sharon. She was the only one still sitting and she still didn't meet his eyes. "Are you coming with me, Sharon?"
"If you still want me after you hear what I have to say," Sharon said, remaining sealed. "I want to give Floyd back the thousand dollars I put in the drawer. I've already destroyed the checks he gave me. They amounted to ten thousand dollars. I was seriously considering leaving you, Dan-with or without Floyd. But after I told him most of the truth today and then we couldn't get him hard, I admitted to him that I didn't think that I could ever leave you. I'll stay with you, live with you, have sex with you and anybody else you want me to, but I'll never tell you that I love you again until you tell me what I've always wanted to hear. End of speech."
"That's telling him," Betty said, clapping her hands together several times. "Now if I may have the floor for a very short speech I'll tell all of you just what I think."
"Let me say something first," Floyd said. "I don't want the thousand bucks back. My experiences with Sharon were worth far more than that to me, needless to say, and-well, that's about it, I guess, except that I'm curious about Dan's remark. I'd like to know what happened this afternoon. What is it that would be so difficult to explain to me?"
"Nothing all that important," Dan said. "I just happened to find out about Thelma being gay. Betty gave me that information, I mean, and all the time-" Dan forced a smile, "-I thought you might be making it with the maid."
Betty looked at Sharon. "You seem to be the only one who might not know that Floyd and I have "found a great deal of pleasure in sharing our lovely colored maid, Sharon. Now that we have that as common knowledge I'd like to get on with my little speech. Do I hear any objections? No? All right then. Sit down, Floyd-Dan. Thank you."
After the two men were again sitting down, Betty lowered her skirt-covered funny onto the couch. Then she said, quite loudly, "Shit! That's what I think about all the silly blabbing during the past few minutes! If somebody was listening, if an outsider could hear all the bullshit being thrown around here, we would quickly be classified as childish idiots. We're all adults, supposedly sophisticated enough to speak our minds as well as freely use our bodies, and I suggest that we remember that."
"I thought it was going to be a short speech," Floyd said. , "You, dear husband, just remember that I'm not angry because you confused sexual love with something far different. Hell, I'm in love with just about all the men when we're having sex. When Dan has his big prick jammed in my quivering cunt I think that I could love him forever and ever! I can tell that Sharon has her emotions all involved in or with her love for Dan and his big cock and I can also tell that Dan is emotionally involved with his beautiful young wife. Right, Dan?"
"You're doing the rather nasty talking," Dan said.
"Nasty? What's nasty about using basic English? Nothing, of course! No more than there's anything nasty or ugly about sex. Thelma's always talking about the great beauty she sees in all things sexual and I think we could all learn a lot from that girl. I know I did this afternoon! With Dan's help. Floyd, I finally succumbed to my desire to be aggressive!"
"I see that you expressed that without using basic English," Floyd said. "I also see that the color didn't rub off. An old and rather trite saying, I know, but right at the moment I can't seem to come up with anything else. I hope that you don't think that I'm surprised. Is that the end of your speech?"
"Just about," Betty said. "I will add that I'm open for any and all questions and/or suggestions, though. How about you, Dan? Do you have anything to say?"
"I think that you've already said enough," Dan said.
"I'd like to ask a question," Sharon said. "Maybe I'd better preface it with several remarks or statements, though." Sharon laughed. "My, aren't I being formal! Which is rather stupid under the circumstances, I think. First, I agree with the colored girl about there being great beauty in all things sexual. With a few exceptions, I hasten to add. By the way, Betty, I'm glad that you enjoyed Dan's big prick jammed in your quivering cunt."
"Sharon!"
"Dan, you turned down your chance to speak," Sharon said calmly. "I'm just expressing myself in basic English. You should've heard me talk to some of the men when I was officially whoring. Would that be a correct term? Anyway, even some of the married men I've jazzed since we've been in the racket had to hear so-called dirty words to help them climax. That wasn't necessary for Floyd, though."
"You should see what is sometimes necessary for Floyd," Betty said. "With Thelma, I mean. Not that the brown beauty doesn't enjoy it! That gal really digs everything!"
"I'm not interested in seeing Thelma do anything," Sharon said. "I think I'll just skip the remarks I meant to make and get on with the question. I might be boring you people."
"You aren't boring me," Betty said. "You're fascinating me, really. I can certainly understand how Floyd fell in love with you. I think I'm falling in love with you myself! Maybe Dan wouldn't object if you and I went to bed together. If you'll agree, of course! Maybe he'd even join us for a threesome as he did with-"
"You've answered my question," Sharon said shortly after Betty had let her words trail off. "Did Dan go down on the colored girl, Betty? Too I should say, as the remarks I was going to make had to do with what might be your confession."
"I think that Dan should do his own talking now," Betty said.
"After you've boxed me into a corner," Dan said, standing up. "I don't have to tell about or explain my actions to anybody. I'm not Sharon's boss, either. If she-"
"Let me make a suggestion," Floyd interrupted, quickly getting to his feet. "Betty's right. We've been blabbing like four idiotic kids. Let's go to a party. We won't even have to make a phone call. If we don't find some action one place we will at another. I'd like to show Dan and Sharon just how adult we swappers are. There's no jealousy, no silly bickering, and no profit motive. Complete sexual freedom practiced honestly just might make you two understand each other far better." Floyd chuckled. "And that's the end of my little speech!"
"And it was very well put," Betty said, getting to her feet. "I think it's up to you, Dan. I think that you should either admit your love for your lovely wife right here before witnesses or else you should give her freedom without thinking about a fast buck."
Dan hesitated. There might be some way they could profit by the experience. And there would be plenty of pussy. "I'll leave it up to Sharon," he said, not looking at his wife.
Sharon laughed and stood up. "Why not? I've always wanted to attend a swinging sex orgy!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT CERTAINLY DIDN'T LOOK AS IF THE SO-CALLED party was going to turn into a sex orgy, Dan thought. So far it looked just like an ordinary group of attractive females and males sitting and standing around the large room-and at the well-stocked bar-drinking and talking, behaving as if they weren't all supposed to be there for complete sexual freedom.
He and Sharon had been introduced to several persons, male and female-by Betty and Floyd-but he couldn't remember any of the names. There were eight, maybe ten couples, and he'd spotted a couple of the females that he was ready to bang right then. Would it be all right if he asked? Or should he just say that he was ready for some action?
Floyd and Betty hadn't explained a damned thing. They'd come to the large house in the suburbs by cab, Floyd saying that he didn't like to drive while drinking-and the fellow had started belting down straight shots immediately. Maybe Floyd had really fallen for Sharon, Dan thought, suddenly noticing that the older man had disappeared.
Betty had already rushed Sharon out of the room. Those two were probably already naked and going at each other, Dan thought, staring at the second shot of Scotch he'd poured from the handy bottle and still hadn't touched. Betty hadn't been able to keep her hands off Sharon in the cab-and Sharon had quite bluntly stated that she was looking forward to some all-female sex. Sharon was angry and disgusted because of Thelma, of course. But she'd get over it. How the hell could an ex-whore stay angry or disgusted about anything having to do with sex?
"Hi, honey! I saw Betty with your lovely wife in the hallway for a few seconds and I tried to get right here, but I was delayed by a phone call. My husband wanting to know how things were going. He had to go out of town for a couple of days. Say, you are Dan, aren't you!"
"I was ten or fifteen minutes ago when I came in here," Dan said, smiling and meeting the tall redhead's sparkling green eyes, then letting his gaze sweep down the length of her silk-covered curves and shapely legs. "I was beginning to think that I had been abandoned and ignored. I've been standing here like the proverbial bump on a log."
"I am sorry, Dan! I'm Hilda. This is my place, my party, and our group doesn't have many rules, but I am supposed to get first crack at you. Since my husband isn't here-well, I don't think even he could've gotten Sharon away from Betty without using his fists! All the men and more than half the women will be after your beautiful young wife, Dan! Including me, of course! She's a living doll!"
"You didn't happen to see Floyd did you?" Dan asked, unable to think of anything else to say at the moment, feeling his pecker lifting because of the closeness of the exciting young redhead and the knowledge that he'd soon be seeing and using the lush-looking flesh.
"That poor dear really has his problems," Hilda said, seriously. "I got him to come one time by sticking a vibrator attachment up his tail, but he's really too sensitive for that. He might be watching Betty and your gorgeous wife. Betty did take the time to whisper in my ear that you really have a delightfully large dick. Say, I just happened to think of something! I didn't know that Betty went "
"I think she just discovered her liking or whatever for going down on women," Dan interrupted, not sure that Sharon would want to reciprocate with Betty-or with Hilda. "I'll just have to say that your guests don't seem very interested in sex."
"It's early," Hilda said. "Besides, they've all had each other many, many times-and probably in most of the many combinations. That's the reason we swappers are always searching for new talent. They might not be showing their great interest right now, but you'd better believe me when I tell you that they're eagerly awaiting their chances at you new members. Not that they all hope to get you new folks tonight, of course!"
Dan didn't bother with saying that as far as he was concerned he and Sharon weren't new members; nor that he thought the swappers were rather far-out with their ideas. After all, they were supposed to be members of a so-called better society, while he and Sharon had never made any claim to respectability.
"Just when does the action start?" Dan asked, suddenly realizing that there'd been a rather long silence. He gazed into the sparkling green eyes and grinned. "Just when and where do we go about seeing how my quote delightfully large dick unquote will slip into your pussy?"
Hilda laughed. "I know that I'm going to like you, Dan! I just know that I'm going to like you a lot!"
With those words Hilda grabbed Dan's hand and started across the large room. Dan followed willingly, anxious to find out how it would be with the stacked redhead, not failing to notice how some of the females weren't too bored to cast glances at the front of his trousers. The very strangeness of the situation had him almost totally aroused, causing him to fleetingly wonder why that should be true. Was he an exhibitionist? It seemed to him that with the women looking-and a couple of the men-it would've been more right or natural had his manhood been totally limp.
The bedroom was off a long hallway. The several doors they passed were closed, and Hilda remarked that later they'd probably all be open. She'd dropped his hand by that time and he'd dropped back to get a good look at her jiggling ass. The black dress was so tight he could see the crack and he knew that she hadn't bothered with panties even before she'd peeled out of the curve-hugging thin garment.
This removal was an accomplished fact seconds after the light had been turned on and the door closed. The black bra was just a wisp covering little more than the surprisingly large red nipples on the very small white mounds. Titties that Dan didn't get much of a chance to look at before Hilda was on her knees taking off his shoes and socks.
But he had seen that her hairs below were just a little darker shade of red than her hair above, and even before he touched her back and shoulders-after he'd removed his shirt and undershirt-he'd known that her warm skin would be soft and smooth.
Hilda went right for Dan's zipper when she'd finished the task of removing his shoes and socks. She reached in and tugged his stiff cock out even as he put his own hands on his belt buckle. Then she leaned back for a better look.
"Betty was right, Dan. You do have a delightfully large dick. Maybe we'd better find out a few things before we do anything, though. It might sound rather commercial or something on my part when I talk like this, but I want you to know that I don't mean it that way. It usually takes me at least five minutes to climax, you see, and if you say the word I'll just not start striving for my goal until your second time. If you think you'll have a second time. You do understand why it's important that I ask these questions, don't you?"
"Certainly," Dan said, amused by the woman's words, and by the way she seemed to be fighting her desire to put his poking prick in her mouth. "Maybe Betty should have told you about my lasting ability, Hilda. I screwed her and-and another gal most of the afternoon and you can see that I'm still right there. I think I'm good for at least fifteen or twenty minutes before my first explosion so why don't you go ahead and-"
Dan didn't finish his sentence. There wasn't any need, really, because Hilda had accepted his invitation or suggestion and he did have to concentrate for the first several seconds on keeping from making a liar out of himself. He didn't have all that much trouble getting through the first thrill of the moistly warm engulfment, however-partly because he had been telling the truth-and even as he moved with the intimate caress he thought about how glad he was that he hadn't mentioned Thelma.
Betty wouldn't appreciate that, he was sure, and he was kind of sorry that he'd been so intimate with the colored girl. Sharon just might leave him because of it. Or go out and find herself a colored man! No! Dan had groaned at the thought. He knew right away that Hilda had thought that he'd given out with the groan as a warning. He found himself staring down into her glittering green eyes-his wet cock a couple of inches from her still parted and glistening lips.
"Nice," Hilda whispered. "Quite wonderful, in fact. You must massage this love-tool with baby-oil."
"Nope," Dan said, chuckling. "Just cunt-oil and-"
"Don't say it," Hilda interrupted, laughing and getting to her feet. "Now get your slacks and shorts off and let's see if you were bragging. Are you strong enough to do it standing? I like to have my big nipples chewed on. You can sit down after I'm embedded. My husband and I do it that way most of the time. If you last as long as I'm beginning to believe that you can I'll go get Susannah. She likes to chew on my big nipples. She has a lovely little twat. I'm not sure that she could take that big beauty! I'm just kidding, of course. I've never really heard of a cock being too large or a cunt being too small."
While Hilda had been talking, or blabbing, Dan had been getting rid of his slacks and shorts. Hilda gave a graceful little leap and scissored her sleek legs high on his waist. Dan cupped the cheeks of her very firm ass and helped to lower her for the penetration. She made little whimpering sounds, nibbled at his neck, and told him how good it felt. Dan thought it felt very good, too.
She clasped her fingers behind his neck and leaned back. He lifted her up and out, slipping her very tight and very hot cunt almost to the end of his stiff shaft, then letting her slowly slide back in place. He did this many times, feeling her inner muscles clamping on his hard flesh, already doubting that she'd last the five minutes she'd mentioned. He was sure that he'd still be right there for Susannah-whoever she was-and at least two or three of the other wives eagerly awaiting to get at his cock.
Knowing that he should start conserving his strength in more ways than one, as well as wanting to be more comfortable while chewing on the big red nipples, Dan walked the wriggling female over to the large bed. Hilda had plenty of lush flesh, aside from her small boobies, but she was surprisingly light. Like a good dancer, Dan thought, lowering his butt down on the side of the bed. Because he'd danced with some very heavy females who'd been as light as a feather on their feet. Not that the moaning Hilda was on her feet! That hot-ass female was going to town on his slippery shaft!
Dan was letting his mind wander purposely. That was one of the secrets of his staying power. Not that it was really all that much of a secret, he knew. Many men did what some called reverse focusing. He'd just had a chance to practice it with more women that most men ever dreamed of having. That wasn't really true, he corrected himself. Most men dreamed of having far more females than he'd ever live long enough to have. And the strangest thing about the whole deal was that he sometimes caught himself thinking that he'd be satisfied to settle for just Sharon-
"I'm getting there, Dan! Stand up and flip me over!"
Dan had been chewing and sucking and licking on the big nipples that were now swollen even larger. He lifted his face and saw the passion flaming in the green eyes. He grinned. "My sense of timing tells me that only about three minutes have passed, Hilda."
"I'm coming, damn you! Put my ass on the bed and screw me, screw me, screw me!"
Dan struggled to his feet, turned, and managed to get Hilda's wriggling ass and body on the bed without breaking contact. Then he screwed her until long after she'd begged him to stop.
Sharon, in another bedroom and on another bed, was having her own problems. She couldn't climax. Betty had given her time to take her clothes off-due mostly to the fact that that greedy-eyed wanton hadn't wanted to ruin her own clothes-and then Betty had practically hurled herself upon Sharon.
Thinking that there would be some preliminary love-play or fore-play, Sharon hadn't been prepared for Betty's onslaught. It was like being raped, really-by the older woman's greedy mouth-and the lips and tongue were still going strong.
Sharon, rather calmly under the circumstances, decided that there were several reasons that she couldn't climax. Floyd was standing there watching, for one thing. He'd walked in and closed the door behind him shortly after his wife had buried her face, and it was quite distracting to see a husband watching his own wife slobbering away like crazy. Especially when the husband was fully clothed and wasn't showing any evidence of physical excitement.
Another factor was the truth that she was afraid that Dan would open the door at just any time. She didn't want her own husband to see her being ravished by a woman or being screwed or whatever by that greedy woman's husband if that staring man ever tried anything with or without a hard-on.
And she'd be expected to take on other men and women, of course. After all, that was the object of the sex party. Maybe she'd enjoy it, she was sure that she would, if she could just gel thoughts of Dan out of her mind.
That was the main reason she couldn't climax. She kept thinking about her husband. He'd just about have to sec her in action sooner or later. As she'd see him. But did she want to see him? It would be shocking as hell to see Dan doing what Betty was doing right then. As he'd done to that colored girl!
Sharon squirmed her ass and thrust up against Betty's face and lapping tongue. Her failure to climax had nothing to do with any failure on Betty's part, that was for sure! Considering the fact that Betty was little more than a novice-again the colored girl entered the picture!-Betty was very skilled at the art of aggressive Lesbianism.
Betty suddenly lifted her face, her gleaming dark eyes, relaxing her gripping fingers on Sharon's firm fanny at the same time. "What's wrong, darling? Can't you make it? I want you to make it! I want to feel you make it! Maybe if I shifted around Will you do me? I'm really steaming and-"
"Maybe later," Sharon interrupted, suddenly making up her mind as to what she wanted to do-what she felt that she had to do. She quickly pulled from Betty's grasp and just as quickly swung from the bed. "Let Floyd take care of you for now the best way he can."
Glancing back as she hurried to the door, Sharon saw that Floyd at least felt a degree of compassion for his passionate wife. Because he was kneeling beside the bed with his face already buried against Betty's dark crotch. Sharon shuddered. Would she become ill if she found Dan doing the same thing to one of the other wives? But she just had to put herself and her love for him to a final test!
The bedroom door across the hall was open. On the bed two males were busily screwing two females while the females had their mouths glued together. Watching for little longer than it took to see that Dan wasn't one of the men wishing that Dan would be engaged in such rather mild sexual activities when she did find him-Sharon started along the hallway without bothering to close the door on the Denning's not so mild sex scene.
Sounds of merriment drifted from the living room and bar, further proof that the swappers were beginning to swing. All the bedroom doors seemed to be open, causing Sharon to wonder just how long she'd been trying to climax under Betty's lavish attentions. Much longer than she'd realized, she knew, because the beds were being used by the men and women she'd seen fully dressed in the large room. She could see and recognize a face now and then when she could pull her gaze from the naked male and female flesh.
Sharon paused briefly and looked in two more bedrooms before finding her husband. On one bed she saw a man plunging in and out of a woman from behind while the woman had another man's cock in her mouth; and in the other bedroom she saw a foursome consisting of two males and two females with their bodies and arms and legs so entangled that it took her almost a minute to decide that one of the men wasn't Dan as she'd first thought.
When Sharon did locate Dan she recognized him first by his thrusting prick. That glistening instrument of pleasure was just being left by one cunt before being quickly engulfed by another. Sharon couldn't see her husband's face. He was flat on his back and a third naked woman was straddling his face and chest.
Jealousy swept through Sharon. And anger. She'd show the man she loved that she could also let herself go completely. She'd screw and go down on each and every husband in the place-and go down on all the wives! Then she was a little ill as she realized that her wild thoughts had been preceded by thoughts of love. She still loved Dan, no matter what he did-despite what she could see him doing-and if she thought it would work she'd beg him to leave with her right then.
But he might refuse. He probably would. He just might tell her that he was through with her. And she still wanted him. She wanted him under any conditions. Maybe she was crazy, she probably was, but she couldn't seem to help it. She knew that Dan was having trouble climaxing, just as she had-and she was suddenly sure that it was for much the same reason.
Dan loved her. He might not ever admit it, but it was the truth all the same. He was probably worrying about her, thinking about her being with another man-other men and women-and if she thought he'd listen she'd march in and tell him right then. But he might laugh and tell her to join. She didn't want him to see her having any kind of sex. She'd go dress and leave and pretend that she hadn't even seen the sexual acrobatics she was witnessing-
Sharon pulled her gaze from the erotic tableau and started back along the hallway. Her large breasts jiggled and swayed and she didn't have to look to know that the nipples were stiffly extended. Her titties were throbbing and tingling, that tingling rippling in little waves right on down to her twat, and she felt that instead of not climaxing she could now start and never stop.
Again Sharon found herself pausing and watching the entangled foursome in the bedroom next to the one in which her husband was performing so actively. She hesitated for about fifteen seconds. Why not? Hadn't Dan condoned anything and everything by bringing her to the swinging sex party? And it was either join or give herself relief. She quickly moved to the bed and the entangled flesh upon that bed.
An arm came out, the male fingers grabbing one breast; then female fingers were squeezing and pulling at her other throbbing tittie. Sharon threw herself forward and down, grabbing with her own eager fingers, thrilling to the contact with a hard cock with one hand and to the contact with a stiffly-spiked tit with the other.
She was surrounded by male and female flesh. A greedy mouth began sucking upon her right breast, another greedy mouth and tongue got busy upon her left hard-tipped breast. Fingers and lips and tongues trailed all over her wiggling body, her feverish flesh, and a face nuzzled at her crotch. The wet lips parted and the tongue slithered into her gash and found her pleasure-button.
She wriggled until she could get her mouth to the cock she held in one hand. But she didn't really mind when that rigid rod was soon pulled from her mouth. Because she was quickly rolled over on her back and a pussy was right there, the moist hot inner flesh quivering just as much as her own-and then she didn't really mind when the parted lips and jabbing tongue left her twitching twat. Because a stiff shaft was right there and began slipping in and almost out, in and almost out, rhythmically bringing her closer and closer to the melting ecstasy she so passionately sought and so desperately needed.
But before she could come, and even while churning her feverish flesh furiously to and around the probing prick, that hard shaft was removed-then quickly replaced by another shaft equally as hard-and during this very short period of time the woman straddling her face and mouth spasmed violently.
As she matched her racing hips to the rhythm of the second prick she found herself greedily delving her tongue into a second pussy. Site felt herself coming, melting into the most glorious of all sensations, and labored expertly to bring her partners to and through a climax with her. Her four partners now. Because one of her hands had found and grasped a slippery prick, and the middle finger on her other hand had found and slipped into a slippery pussy.
Suddenly, and only seconds before spinning off into a whole series of shuddering and shattering spasms-and taking her four lustful partners with her-Sharon was strangely and surprisingly mentally detached. She was actively and greedily having sex with four people at the same time, passionately engaged in a frantic sexual orgy, and yet she wasn't really losing herself as she always could and did with her husband.
But that didn't keep her from enjoying the wondrous physical pleasure. She bounced and bucked and jerked and jolted, spilling forth her passion spasmodically, blending with her four partners, and yet somehow remaining mentally aloof-almost as if she were really a sixth person looking down upon the entangled flesh of which her own naked body was so much a part.
Sharon laughed a little wildly when her mouth and face were freed. And she opened her eyes for the first time since hurling herself into and onto the wanton and unrestrained voluptuous carnality. Despite her thoughts she was still hot.
"I'm just getting started," she said, feeling the tears suddenly rolling down her already wet cheeks. "Bring on anybody and everybody, folks! All except my stud of a husband! He just might give me my most fervent wish and tell me to get my still squirming ass to hell and gone out of here!"
Dan knew that he was just about to come again. He'd made it once with the small blonde called Susannah, while that frenzied gal had been going down on the frenzied Hilda, and after that-and after he'd quickly recovered-he hadn't bothered to try and count the cunts he'd pronged and tongued.
All he knew was the truth that there was such a thing as too many and too much. Too much sex, anyhow-and he even had a dull headache to go with his dull backache. He was pounding away at Betty at the moment. And she was answering thrust for thrust, seemingly tireless, apparently pleased and happy that he was going to blast off while screwing her. He had no idea as to how long he'd been buried in her snapping snatch. It seemed like an hour-or hours.
After he'd exhausted the wives who'd wanted to sample his tool and tongue-those who'd entered that bedroom, at least-Betty had pranced her naked butt in and said that she'd take over. Betty had also said something about Floyd finding a wife with desires and tastes similar to Thelma's-and that Sharon was really having herself a wild and way-out sex-happy time in the next bedroom.
Maybe Sharon had been having the same trouble he'd been having, he'd thought-and still thought. Dan quickened the tempo of his already fast in and almost-out thrusts. Just as soon as he'd shot his wad he'd go get Sharon and take her away from the swinging swappers, by damn! They were a bunch of nuts, that was for sure! But he'd have to give them credit for showing him that he was just as nutty!
Dan lashed himself furiously, taking Betty with him to the highest of all peaks of physical pleasure, spurting forth into a climax that not only relieved the tension in his body, but also seemed to do the same thing for his mind.
There was an adjoining bathroom and he quickly left the temporarily exhausted Betty, just as quickly gathered up his clothes, and then stepped over two naked women locked in the classic Lesbian position on his way to clean up and dress. A woman stepped from the shower stall and offered to revive his limp cock, but he refused gruffly enough so that she frowned and began drying herself before she'd quite finished the act of dropping to her knees.
Betty, Dan was pleased to sec, had buried her face between a pair of sleek female thighs. He didn't care if he never saw her lush body again, either. Or the faces and bodies of any of the other swapping wives, for that matter. He'd go get Sharon, get her to hell out of the madhouse, and maybe even head for some other town or city that very night. They had enough money until they could figure out their next move.
Dan McKay was always glad that he didn't really see his beautiful young wife actually being screwed by a man or going down on a woman. It was quite evident that Sharon had been doing much the same as he'd been doing on the bed in the other bedroom, but at least he didn't have to try and erase actual pictures from his mind. It was bad enough to try and erase the mental scene of having seen his lovely naked wife with the naked men and women on and around the large bed.
Sharon was sitting on the side of the bed, apparently in a kind of daze as she looked around at the naked males and females. Two females were still going at each other on the thick carpet, maybe proving that no male could ever match the pace set by a female when it came to sex.
Sharon's beautiful blue eyes brightened when she looked up and saw Dan. Then her eyes filmed over with what looked like pain and she bowed her head. "I saw you in action," she said, her words barely audible. Then a little louder: "Not that I really needed that for an excuse. We're both what we are, remember? I said that not so long ago."
Dan sensed the several pairs of eyes upon him and felt his face flush. "Come on," he said, "I'll help you find your clothes so that we can leave."
"I'm not sure that we can make it together after this, Dan."
"Well, I am! I love you, damn it, and now do as I say!" Sharon smiled happily and quickly obeyed her husband.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"IT DOESN'T REALLY SEEM AS IF A WHOLE MONTH has passed since I hat night we took Sharon and Dan to that party," Betty said. "Do you ever wonder what happened to them, Floyd? I mean-well, you did tell Sharon that you loved her and even offered to divorce me and marry her." Betty laughed. "Sure, I know that you told me that it was just your hard cock doing your talking and thinking for you, but I know that you thought a hell of a lot of that lovely blonde darling. I did, too, and I still miss her and Dan's big beauty."
"I think about Sharon at times," Floyd said. "I think about them, both, actually. I hope that they managed to get themselves straightened out. I'll admit that I felt love for Sharon at the time. My emotions were involved, I mean, and it was something like it was when I first met you. Maybe if we hadn't ever started-"
"Sometimes it isn't wise to talk too much," Betty interrupted. "It must mean something that we're still together, Floyd. No matter what we do or who we have we still continue to stay married and live together. Would you really want it any other way? I wouldn't."
"No, I don't suppose I would," Floyd said, not really surprised to find that he was speaking the truth. "Are you sure that we should go through with this little deal we have planned, Betty?"
"Just as sure as I am of anything," Betty said. Again she laughed. "And that isn't saying very much, I'll admit!"
"We'd both better have another drink," Floyd said, getting to his feet and walking from one couch to another and taking Betty's empty glass. "We should have time for at least one more before they get here. How long did you finally decide that Thelma should wait before coming in?"
"I told her to just give us a few minutes," Betty said. "I don't think that we should take them to the bedroom. If it's going to work I think that it'll just have to be kind of spontaneous. You know? We should try and get it to happen right in here, I mean, because if it backfired when we were in the bedroom there wouldn't be any way of-well, of back-tracking."
Floyd didn't have a chance to answer or prepare two more drinks right then. Because there was a knock on the door and he went to let their invited guests in. Jack and Mona Colson had rented the apartment across the hall. They were previously experienced swappers, having moved from a distant city, and within a week after they'd moved into the apartment Betty and Mona had discovered their mutual interests.
These interests included reciprocating Lesbianism and the two couples had been getting together for uninhibited sex three or four evenings each week. Floyd and Betty had been stalling about introducing the new couple to the local group of swappers while trying to get enough nerve to bring Thelma in on the sexual fun and pleasure.
Jack was a tall man with brown eyes and brown hair, a cock a fraction or so longer than Floyd's, but unlike Floyd, Jack had an almost constant or continuous erection. Jack was twenty-six. Mona was a tall redhead with very light eyes, tits that rode surprisingly high on her chest, a lovely ass and shapely legs, and she liked to brag about her ability to have ten or fifteen climaxes in that many minutes. Mona was thirty-three. Mona had money from a first husband and Jack sold used cars when he worked.
Since Betty's confession about succumbing-to her demanding desires with Thelma, Betty and Floyd had both been doing everything there was to do to and with the beautifully stacked colored girl. They were quite anxious to share Thelma and her talents with their swapping friends, partly because the brown girl was just as anxious, but they were nervous about even broaching the somewhat ticklish subject. Their plan was to run a test with Jack and Mona before deciding about having a party in their apartment and simply having Thelma there and available.
"The strangest thing happened to me this afternoon," Mona said, shortly after Floyd had prepared and served drinks and the four of them had sat down. "I was on a crowded elevator and a man standing right behind me got a hard-on that I know had him aching like crazy. We were jammed that close, you know, and I really felt sorry for the guy. The way that big pecker was poking against my butt I almost popped my cookies right there!"
"What happened?" Betty asked. "I mean-well, how did you handle the situation? I think I would've pushed back and really given him a thrill!"
"She did," Jack said, chuckling. "Until she glanced around and got a look at his face and remembered that she was in the South."
"The big guy was colored," Mona said. "I looked into his eyes and I don't think that I've ever seen such fear before. I don't know how the hell he was able to keep his erection. I pushed my way forward and got out on the wrong floor so that there wouldn't be any trouble in case somebody had noticed what had happened."
Thelma entered the living room then. The colored girl had been listening, a little apprehensive about doing what Miss Betty had told her to do, at the same time very excited by the idea that she might have a chance to get in on all the sex at the swapping parties. She didn't much care for the hints that Miss Betty had been making about Junior-she didn't think that would work-but she was sure that most of the men would at least want to screw her.
All eyes went to Thelma and she smiled broadly. She'd been told to come in and go along with whatever happened-and when she'd heard the talk about the colored man's erection she'd figured that that was just as good as any time to make her entrance. She wasn't wearing anything except the curve-hugging white uniform dress and high heels she'd put on to help make her long brown shapely legs just a little more dazzling. Seeing the lust gleaming in Mister Jack's eyes, and then in Miss Mona's, Thelma was sure that everything was going to work out just fine for that evening before a word was spoken.
"It might shock you folks to know that we had a colored couple in the last group we belonged to," Jack said.
"They were a charming couple," Mona said.
Betty smiled and winked at Thelma. "Life, as the saying goes, is full of little surprises. All right, Thelma, show Jack and Mona what they're so anxious to see. And so anxious to have, I should and will add!"
"Our little surprise for you for the evening," Floyd said, chuckling. "Though not so little, I'll add!"
Thelma began coming out of her dress. Still staring, Jack and Mona put their drinks on the low table and got to their feet. Except for her spiked heels, Thelma was totally nude before the excited wife and husband could reach her.
Betty put her glass on a low table and got to her feet. "Take your clothes off, Jack! Mona! You'll bruise her!"
Jack and Mona stopped and began coming out of their clothes. Thelma dropped to her knees to help. Thelma figured that Jack needed her help more at the moment. His restrained erection might be quite painful, she thought, automatically licking her full lips. She quickly worked the zipper and tugged his stiff shaft out.
Then Thelma couldn't resist the urge to engulf the glistening head with her mouth. Jack thrust rhythmically even as he struggled with his clothes. Thelma saw Mona's skirt drop to the carpet. She quickly left the cock to help with the exposing of the cunt. The thin panties down around Mona's knees, Thelma couldn't resist the urge to briefly bury her face and tongue against the reddish triangle. Mona's soft little moans were just as welcome to Thelma's ears as Jack's soft little gasps had been.
Betty stared, her passion soaring ever higher as Thelma dropped backward upon the soft carpet and allowed Jack and Mona to struggle with their own shoes. Then Betty felt the quivering in her own inner flesh as Jack and Mona removed Thelma's heels and slowly trailed their fingers and their tongues upward along the colored girl's gorgeous legs.
Also staring, Floyd finished his drink and put the glass on the table beside Betty's. There would probably be no end to their search for sexual thrills, he thought. They'd go on and on, searching for more and more way-out methods of trying to satisfy their jaded sexual appetites until they either kicked off or finally got too old and feeble.
And he really didn't think that he would want it any other way. Life was very short, his was well over half gone, and he and Betty both were too far along the path to even seriously consider turning back. Now if they were younger, like Sharon and Dan-and he didn't want to think about that lovely young beauty and her husband.
Floyd chuckled. So he wouldn't! He'd just think about what he was seeing. Jack was kissing one end of Thelma and Mona was kissing the other end. They'd shifted back and forth several times and the colored girl was squirming passionately. Later he'd have to tell Jack what the hot-ass gal liked so much. If she didn't tell him herself.
Betty was already naked. "Are you hard, Floyd?"
Floyd was quite surprised to find that he was rapidly getting that way. He stood up and unzipped his trousers and by the time he had his prick out it was very hard and stiff. Betty then did and said something that surprised Floyd very much. It also pleased him.
Betty dropped to the carpet, got on her back, and parted her legs. "Let's just have an old-fashioned screwing session for a change, honey. It has been a long time since you could and we did, you know, and at the risk of sounding sentimental or some damned thing I'll admit that there's a great deal of difference when there's at least a degree of love."
Floyd felt a strange choking sensation in his throat. Was it possible that he still loved Betty? Yes, he thought, staring at the waiting pussy that he'd used so many times-and that had been used by so many other men. There was a degree of love, at least, and that emotion-no matter how slight-did make a lot of difference.
Dropping his trousers and shorts, suddenly afraid to gamble by using the time it would take to get completely naked, Floyd dropped to his knees and quickly pushed in between Betty's smooth thighs. Then, as she guided, he pushed his throbbing cock deep into her quivering cunt and glued his mouth to hers.
They screwed a long time, both thinking about each other for a change while happily doing so, and then after they'd had a blending climax they went to the mirrored bedroom with their equally sex-happy guests and their equally sex-happy maid.
Sharon McKay moved through the darkened bedroom and stood beside the bed and looked down at her sleeping husband. The sheet was covering him up to his waist, but he was on his back and she could see the outline of his manhood, large even in its limpness. Almost five weeks, she thought. It had been four weeks and five days since Dan had told her that he loved her. Would he ever say it again?
So much had happened since then. They'd gone to the apartment and packed their clothes, speaking only when absolutely necessary, and he'd slept on the couch until morning. Still without mentioning the sex-party, or what he meant to do, he'd called a cab and they'd gone by the real estate agency and dropped off the keys and then they'd , gone to the bank.
Dan had then bought a used car for five hundred dollars. Once they'd gotten out on the highway, heading north, Dan had told her that he meant to find a job. She hadn't said anything, wondering just what he could or would do, not even sure that she wanted him to work on some routine job. She didn't think that he'd like such a life, she'd even felt that it would be very boring for her, but she'd simply said that anything he wanted to do was all right with her. Meaning it as always, of course.
By the time they'd reached the next city of any size, about three hundred miles from where they'd started, Dan had been just about as friendly and talkative as he'd ever been. She'd relaxed, safe in the knowledge that they were still together and that Dan seemingly meant to keep it that way, but they'd both carefully avoided any talk about Betty and Floyd and Thelma and the sex-party.
They'd rented another furnished apartment, this time with very reasonable rent, and they hadn't had sex until the third night. Strangely enough, she hadn't really missed it the first two nights. She hadn't been hot and she was sure that Dan hadn't been hot for the same reason. Too much sex at the party had kind of deadened their senses.
The sex the third night had been just as wonderful as always, though. Maybe even better. They hadn't said a word. They'd just rolled over toward each other at the same time, embraced and kissed, joined their bodies, and screwed and screwed and screwed. Bui they still hadn't really talked. Not then and not before, during, or after the many wonderful sessions since then. With the exception of the time it took for her to get over her period, and during those few days and nights Dan had jokingly said that he'd also take a rest, they hadn't missed at least one nightly session.
And often there'd been a late afternoon session, Sharon thought, turning from her sleeping husband and walking over to the window. She raised the shade and let the outside light stream in. She turned and watched as Dan rubbed his eyes, wishing that he didn't have to leave her within a couple of hours, not to return until two or three o'clock in the morning.
Dan had been working on a job for a month. If it could really be called a job. He, along with two or three other men, played poker for the house seven nights a week in a joint that could be raided just any time. He received a flat twenty dollars each night for helping take money from suckers wandering into the pool hall and enticed into the back room. There wasn't any cheating. There didn't have to be. The odds were too great against the suckers playing with the house men like Dan.
Dan looked at Sharon and smiled. "Come here," he said.
Sharon went over and sat down on the side of the bed. But Dan didn't grab her and pull her down for a kiss and maybe more as she'd expected. She couldn't keep from glancing and then felt a little stab of disappointment when she saw his limpness.
Dan noticed the quick look and sensed the disappointment. He could get a hard-on, and he wanted to, but he wanted to get a few things settled first. He'd already been stalling too long about some things.
"I have something to say, Sharon. I don't like what I'm doing any more than you do. Mostly I don't like to leave you alone so much, but I seem to be getting nowhere fast on twenty bucks a night. How would you like to go back into the racket? Be honest. And don't say that anything I want is what you want. Tell me exactly how you feel."
She felt sick, Sharon thought. Right then she felt very sick. The question seemed to indicate that Dan had changed his mind about loving her. If he'd really meant it in the first place. But maybe he was just testing her. She would be honest and tell the truth. He could find another woman to help him work the racket.
"I wish that we had enough money so that you wouldn't have to do anything, Dan. Sometimes I wish that we could just kind of hide from the world, maybe stay in this apartment and not even see any other people. I'll go to work in an office or something like that, but I won't work the racket with you again."
"That's what I wanted to hear," Dan said. "The last part, anyway. I've been doing a lot of thinking since that night I told you that I loved you, admitted to myself that I loved you, and the past few weeks I've been putting myself to a-well, I guess it could be called a kind of test. I've had chances at women, some of them sexy beauties, but I turned them all down. Sure, I mentally raped a few, but I suppose I'll be doing that until I die. Say, why the tears? I thought you'd be happy to hear what I just said!"
"Most women cry at least a little bit when they're happy," Sharon said, wiping her eyes and smiling, suddenly hoping that it wouldn't turn out that Dan was playing some kind of a cruel joke on her.
"I had to find out how you felt," Dan said, seriously. "It really isn't the money that I don't like about my job. We could get by on it, I mean, but I just might get yanked in during a raid. I don't have a record and I don't want one. I thought I'd get a social security card and all that jazz and get a legitimate job. How does that sound?"
"Wonderful," Sharon said. "Almost like a-a kind of miracle, Dan." She laughed happily and got to her feet. "If I'd known that things were going to turn out like this I might've suggested that we attend a wild sex-party long ago!" She saw Dan frown and quickly sobered. "I'm sorry!"
Dim smiled. "Why he sorry? We're what we are, remember? That's what you've said many times. Just because we've changed, or changed our views or whatever about certain things, doesn't mean that we should deny that we enjoyed doing those things. Hell, I don't know what I'm saying or even trying to say!"
"Let's don't even try to explain what has happened," Sharon said. "Let's just accept it and be happy and enjoy that happiness."
"All right," Dan said. "There is one thing, though. I don't know how to say it, just how to put it into words, but I do want it to be like it was when we were in the racket. Between the two of us, I mean."
"Maybe I can say it for you," Sharon said, looking at the tent that had started to be formed by her husband's lifting manhood. "You want a free-wheeling uninhibited whore for a wife, but you want her-me-to practice whoring only with you. Is that about right?"
"Just about," Dan said, kicking the sheet to the foot of the bed. He looked at his stiffly erect prick and then met his beautiful young wife's sparkling blue eyes, feeling that her reaction to what he meant to add would tell him whether or not their marriage could be the same except for the outside sex. "It really isn't as if you need any practice at whoring, though."
Sharon knew the purpose of Dan's remark; just as she knew that they'd both have one hell of a time living up to the bargain that they'd practically made. Over a period of years, anyhow. Because sexual promiscuity wasn't all that easy to give up. Not when it'd been a way of life for so long.
"I think that it's a very good thing that humans can't see into the future," Sharon said after a rather long silence. "I also think that we should continue to speak freely with each other and stop trying to pretend that we're something or somebody that we're not. So-" Sharon laughed, "let's skip the talk for now and get on with what we've both had so much practice doing, with each other and with so many others!"
"Those just might be the most important words spoken during the past few minutes," Dan said, watching as Sharon started taking off her clothes. "Aside from the fact that I once again mentioned that mysterious thing called love, of course."
Sharon paused in the process of reaching back to free her already hard-tipped titties. "That, my darling, is the most important thing to me. Do you know why? Because we can't spend all of our time engaged in sexual love." She laughed again and freed her jutting mounds. "Darn it!"
"Damn it," Dan corrected, chuckling and sitting up so that he could grab Sharon's lovely nakedness just as soon as possible. "We were to speak freely and that means plainly, baby. Hurry, huh? I'm aching to bury my stiff shaft into your pulsating pussy!"
