Many years ago, a popular radio program opened with a sepulchral voice asking, "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men . . . The Shadow knows!"
The question, in today's flexible society, could well be paraphrased and presented as, "Who knows what desires lurk in the breast of woman?"
And the answer is nobody, including the woman herself until the barriers have been broken. Often perfectly natural needs are repressed for years by lectures drilled into the young in their formative years. It is a fact that many young women marry today with the firmly instilled belief that sex is dirty, something to be endured only in the dark, and prayed about later.
Yet, sometimes the pool of torment is tapped, the pressure released as an abscess is disposed of with the extraction of a diseased tooth. When that happens, the once constricted woman is likely to break all her chains and become a vibrant creature, seeking new delights, new carnal knowledge. A parallel could be drawn between such women and the fallen-away clergyman who seeks the depths of debauchery, or the reformed alcoholic who can't stand to see another man take a drink.
Wife swapping has been written about ad nauseam, usually in scandalous fashion which takes no note of the possible benefits of this illicit but nonetheless widespread practice. Certainly it has broken marriages . . . but in seemingly many cases it had healed those which were on the brink of disaster.
In this compelling novel, Arnold Sinatra tells the story of Beth Lansing, a repressed girl from a small town in Oregon who marries a handsome, swinging go-getter.
Beth cannot adjust to his sexual wishes, and this preys upon her mind until banker Jack Kimble and his blonde-haired, sexually emancipated wife appear on the scene.
From an innocuous beginning in which the Lansings are led to join a bike club, events snowball. Gradually, the tall, dark-haired, innocent, Beth, was led into the paths of debauchery and sensual pleasure. Though she struggles to maintain her former moral attitudes, they are eroded by her own stifled sexuality asserting itself, until a series of encounters, highlighted by her introduction to oral sex and lesbianism, free her from her bonds and make her take a good look at what she has been and what she would likely be.
Her struggle to find her true identity is a classic, one of the best narratives Arnold Sinatra has produced to date.
In part it is a shocker, and it is not recommended for those who might be offended by deviations from what they envision as the Middle America norm. Yet for readers of vision, we recommend it without reservation, and hope that it will perhaps aid the man or woman with sexual conflicts to better understand and cope with them.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Beth Lansing gritted her teeth in mild frustration as she pushed the motorless lawn mower to and fro over the rear lawn of the ranch-type house in the California foothills which she and her young husband Harry had gone deeply into hock for the year before, shortly after their marriage. The cause of the teeth gritting was not the lawn itself, which seemed to spring up overnight with the enthusiasm of a field of weeds, but Harry himself. Harry was comfortably stretched out in his old Navy hammock slung between two spreading shade trees reading a paperback mystery and occasionally sipping from a can of cold beer which rested on an upturned wine keg beside the hammock.
It was hot work, and a sheen of sweat coated the young brunette's sun-goddess body. Beth wore an old, thin shirt, unbuttoned down the front and knotted high under her wide set, firm breasts which jiggled voluptuously with each stride of her long, beautifully tapered legs. She wore hip-hugger blue jean short-shorts which once had been flare slacks until they had faded and shrunk by so many washings that now they were fit for only wearing in the privacy of the hedge-bordered rear yard. Puffing slightly, she wiped away the trickles of sweat which were running from her forehead into her deep, dark eyes, abandoned the torture machine for a moment and sought the shade of the pepper trees. She grabbed her husband's can of ice-cold beer and guzzled, making her smooth belly muscles ripple, accentuating the tininess of her supple waist. Her torso flowed upward into the rich prominent swell of her breasts, and downward into the alluring flare of curvaceous hip and heart-shaped buttocks. The old shirt she wore was dark with perspiration.
"You," she said accusingly and only half-joking, "are getting a spare tire, my love," digging him in the belly with a probing finger. "The Major Hoople of Indian Springs."
"This is my own way of relaxing after a week of pushing homes with wheels," the handsome young man said with a grin, reaching to stroke the velvet softness of her inner thighs, making Beth tremble. "Lying here and watching you scissor by on those fine legs, with your titties bouncing."
"Aaaaaggghhh!" Beth snorted and went back to the lawn mower after draining the beer and putting down the can.
"Hey!" her husband protested. "You drank it all!"
"You know where there's plenty more," Beth called back as she took up her menial task and fresh-cut green shards of grass sprayed over her striding legs. "Maybe I like to watch your spare tire rock and roll."
Chuckling, Harry Lansing swung out of the hammock and went in search of another beer, and while he was about it made a salami-and-cheese sandwich on rye. Through the window he watched his wife pushing the mower and thought, Jeez, she's beautiful. But why does she have to be so fucking cold? No, not cold -that's not the word.
Square!
Harry Lansing was undoubtedly a good looking young man. He was tall, a fraction of an inch over six feet. His features were lean, with high, well-defined cheekbones. He had a wide mouth which smiled easily to show even white teeth. His hair was straight, just long enough to cover his shirt collar. Despite what Beth claimed, he was not, in his opinion, getting fat. Sure, he could lose five pounds, and if his job didn't keep him glued to a chair a good part of the time, it would be gone in a week. His chest muscles were hard, rippling against his tanned skin when he moved, and his pelvis was narrow, so he would always seem more slender than most of his friends, even if he wasn't.
"Hey! I've already sweated out that tiny -mouthful of beer. C'mon back with another," his dark-tressed wife called as she passed by the open kitchen window, the blades of the mower clattering softly against the cutter bar. Beth thought they must be the only family in the state who owned a lawn mower without a motor she had been surprised to find the thing in the garage when they'd bought the house. After some discussion, she and Harry had agreed to keep it. Neither could stand the blatting of power mowers. But at the time, Beth had been under the impression that her husband was going to push it, but she was soon set straight. On her next pass, a long muscular arm with a beer can at the end popped out of the window, and she grabbed the frigid brew without breaking stride.
In reality she didn't mind being a one-girl power motor. She found the exercise kept her lithe body toned up and gave her a certain inner release which let her thoughtfully consider the problems of her marriage, which was less than two years old. The dark-eyed beauty with the wide, sensuous lips knew thousands of girls would give anything to be in her shoes.
A handsome husband who had a good job, even if the hours were long. A start on a home of their own in one of the most spectacularly beautiful areas of the northern part of the state. A growing bank account. A big new luxury station wagon for Harry he needed it to take clients around and a Beetle convertible for her. No screaming kids underfoot.
The sex aspect was the only hitch. Harry wanted her to do strange things. Well, maybe not strange to others. Beth was well aware that oral sex, sucking a man's penis or having him put his tongue down there, was done by lots of other couples, married and otherwise. She sometimes had the impression, when chattering girl-talk with her friends, that she was the odd one, the holdout. Well, so be it! It was still unnatural to her, and Beth Lansing, marslimallow-soft on the outside, was carbon steel beneath her smooth exterior. If Harry really wanted that sort of thing, he would undoubtedly be able to get it from some of the sexy young housewives who came to his sales office. Beth just hoped that if it happened, she never found out, because it would hurt terribly. That was one thing she didn't like about his job . . . the way he was exposed to other females so much, but it couldn't be helped. And, she told herself as she paused in the shade to drink deeply from the ice-cold can, there are always things a wife can find to detest about her husband's work. His hours, the way he's covered with grease when he comes home, the way it interferes with what she wants to do, or keeps them in an unpleasant city . . . hundreds of things.
Here Beth counted herself lucky, for Harry Lansing was sales manager of the largest mobile-home and travel-trailer dealership in Indian Springs, with four salesmen working for him. Some of the luxury models, with every conceivable appliance, deep carpeting, fireplaces, color TV, beamed ceilings, genuine teak panels and such, could cost as much as fifty thousand dollars, set up on the owner's site. Such sales were rarities, perhaps only two a year, but the commission was fabulous.
Yet, as the costs of standard homes was skyrocketing, it was not unusual for buyers to select models in the twenty-to-thirty-thousand-dollar range, finding the value for their dollar was much greater than they'd get in a cracker box tract house. These were by no means trailers. They ordinarily moved only once, from the sales lot or factory direct to the site, where the wheels were pulled off and they rested on blocks, were skirted, landscaped and soon took on the look of permanent homes.
There was a growing market for travel trailers, to be towed by cars or pickup trucks, and boats. Even lightweight motorcycles were on the lot.
Yes, the sweating young housewife told herself, she had nothing to complain about . . .
* * *
The neighboring house to the south, set on a spacious tree-shaded three acres of carefully landscaped ground, dwarfed the Lansing place in both size and price, although Harry and Beth's home would easily have brought fifty-thousand dollars if they chose to sell.
The neighbors were Jack and Marcia Kimble, and their house was a pseudo-rustic split-level. It had an immense living room with natural stone fireplace, massive beamed ceilings, a formal dining room, six bedrooms, rumpus room, den, a four-car garage which was home to three automobiles, a twenty-four foot inboard-outboard cabin cruiser and two touring bicycles. Protected from the sun by spreading oak trees in the rear was a swimming pool, and there was also a putting green. The Kimbles, although young, were by far the best off financially of all the families in this exclusive section of Indian Springs. And it was directly because of Jack Kimble that Harry and Beth Lansing occupied their present comfortable home, which otherwise would have been far beyond their means.
Jack Kimble was the lending officer fo; the bank with which Harry Lansing did business, financing his customers' purchases. He was a go-getter and had early recognized the potential in mobile-home and travel-trailer sales in this area. Standard housing was in short supply, and mortgage money was tight. The realtors had to scrounge for buyers with enough cash for a downstroke and often second and third mortgages were involved, which was always bad news.
But Harry Lansing was dealing in brand new merchandise and also backed up by factory help in financing if needed, but that usually wasn't the case. Bank lending rates were virtually all the same. Kimble was surprised if he saw any one realtor about a loan more than twice a month. Yet Harry could be counted on to come in with a broad grin and drop a conditional sales contract for twenty thousand or more on his desk at least twice a week, and once he'd turned four deals in one day.
And it was nice not having to deal with mortgages. If one went sour, foreclosure took at least a year. With a conditional sales contract, the bank could take the merchandise back in two months, and no arguments.
There was also another angle. A spin-off company owned by the bank was developing-a luxury mobile-home park, a beautiful place that looked mOre like a country club, with swimming pools, tennis, a recreation hall and even its own shopping center. If the mobile-home buyer didn't already have a site, Harry turned real estate salesman and, if he sold a plot, drew a commission from the bank.
In view of this mutually profitable arrangement, Jack Kimble had quietly seen to it that Harry and Beth Lansing got not only all the financing they needed, but at the lowest possible interest.
Now, on their six-hundred-dollar German ten speed bikes, the Kimbles swung into the driveway to their house and, sighing from the exertion of a day's pedaling through the winding foothill roads with the club to which they belonged, wiped sweat from their brows.
They wore identical outfits white short-sleeved shirts, white cardigans bordered in red over their shoulders, the arms knotted in front, white shorts, calf-high cotton stockings and ankle-high biking shoes the standard uniform of the two-wheel cult.
Marcia was a tall, voluptuous blonde with gray eyes and a fine-featured face dominated by her sensuous mouth. Her full breasts rose and fell, the nipples making lewd little bumps in her blouse. She wore no brassiere and didn't need one. Her waist was tiny and her belly flat from her exercise, her hips richly curved and long, without an ounce of fat anywhere on their sleek length. The tight white shorts molded her pubic mound so well that they clearly outlined the soft lips of her pussy. Now the seamed crotch band was damp as her cuntal 'Vee" yielded its sweet vaginal juices. One of the things she loved about riding was that just straddling the narrow saddle and pumping with her smooth legs made her cum! Cum so hard it hurt, made her so tender that, even as much as she loved cock, she couldn't bear to let Jack touch her, at least not until she'd had a long soak in a cool tub. She was much younger than her husband, just past her twenty-sixth birthday.
Jack Kimble was a stocky bull of a man, with coal-black hair and squared-off features. His black eyes burned through women. He seemed to be all muscle, and could easily have been mistaken for a professional wrestler or a football player. Unlike most chunky men, he moved with the grace of a cat and his voice was surprisingly soft and melodic. He looked nothing like a banker is expected to look. Nor, when circumstances permitted, did he act anything like a banker is supposed to act. Jack was a complete hedonist. He had taken great pleasure in spending a full three years teaching his young wife every nuance of sex until now the once demure Marcia was ready for anything, anyplace, anytime.
"You wear your balls?" Jack asked his young wife, grinning lewdly.
"Wouldn't be without them on a ride you know that!"
Jack chuckled. The previous Christmas he had given Marcia, in addition to a Porsche roadster, the Oriental device which consists of two steel balls encased in a fluid-filled cylinder. When inserted deep in the vagina so it touches the mouth of the cervix, any movement of the woman agitates the balls and they rap her captive cuntal passage like tiny hammers.
With ideas of spending the rest of the afternoon in bed, Jack slapped the taut roundness of his wife's heart-shaped buttocks, jamming a finger into the crease of her smooth ass-cheeks. They put the bikes away and went into the house, going immediately to the huge bathroom on the second floor adjoining their exotic bedroom, the decor of which was, as close as they could make it, the duplicate of a boudoir in a Gay Nineties' whorehouse.
Quickly they stripped off their biking outfits and jumped into the oversized shower together. Jack lathered Marcia's wide-set, thrusting breasts with scented soap, rolling their warm softness in his strong hands, tweaking the nipples as she ground her perfect buttocks back against his hardening cock and caught it between her clenching thighs. His hands slid down the smoothness of her belly and his fingers delved in the soft curly pale hairs that fringed her fleshy cuntal slit and sought the aroused nub of her clitoris.
"Oooooohhhh!" she moaned in gathering lust as she gyrated her soap-slick buttocks. She smiled a woman's smile. It was so damn good to have a man who wanted to fuck you every time he saw you and could do the job! God! After nearly five years, every time Jack's cock rammed far up into the depths of her seething pussy Marcia almost went wild, thrashing and screaming and locking her legs tight around his broad back and really trying to devour his plundering rod with her soft cuntal mouth. "Oooooooohhhhh, Jack! Not yet . . . you know how tender I am after a ride."
"Later then," he said with a lewd grin.
"You'd better."
Then it was her turn to wash him, and she did it slowly and teasingly, playing with his penis until it was rock-hard in her lewdly stroking fingers. She loved the way the bulbous reddish-purple head appeared and disappeared as she rolled the fleshy foreskin, and she loved the weight of his hot, semen-filled balls.
"Better quit or there won't be any left for later," he warned.
"Hey . . . we couldn't have that!" the long-limbed blonde said with a wanton smile.
Drying themselves with huge fluffy towels they stepped into the oversized bedroom. Red dominated. Red textured wallpaper. Red shades on the lamps and the love seat and dressing-table chair. A crystal chandelier hung from the gilded ceiling. The chandelier had been a terrible extravagance but one which gave Jack and Marcia a sense of wild sexual sin. It had been rescued from the estate of a long-deceased San Francisco madam and at one time had been converted from gas to electricity. At exorbitant expense. Jack Kimble had converted it back and connected it to the gas-supply of the big house. When lighted, the rose-colored chimneys of the gas jets cast i myriad of reflections in the many-sided crystals. Now going naked to the oaken wardrobe on the north wall, he paused to look through the full length window which overlooked tne rear yard of the Lansing place.
"Jesus H. Christ!" he breathed softly. "Baby, come take a look at this!"
Beth Lansing was still cutting the lawn, her long smooth leg muscles rippling with every stride. At the moment she was going away, and the chopped-off jeans were riding high in the "vee" of her loins, baring almost all of her clenching ass-checks. Her lush hips swayed enticingly as she put muscle into her job and it looked like her jiggling flesh would burst from the confines of the thin, worn cloth at any moment.
Then she turned and paused for a moment, straightening up, rubbing the small of her back. The position thrust her high, proud breasts tight against the old shirt she was wearing, the firm round globes achingly outlined, her nipples prominent and erect. Her shirt was soaked darkly and molded to her tall, slender body like a second skin. Jack's cock suddenly gorged with the blood of lust and stood straight out from his flat belly like the trunk of a tree. He licked his lips lewdly, his tongue wetting them until they glistened.
At that moment Harry Lansing appeared at the back door, wearing nothing but tennis shorts. He carried two cans of beer across the fresh cut lawn. Clearly visible was the thick straight length of a massive erection. He and Beth drank.
"Jeez . . , . I knew she was a doll . . . but not that much of a doll!" Jack breathed heavily. "Damn, I just have to fuck that!"
"It looks like he's got the same idea and she belongs to him," his blonde-haired wife said with an insinuating grin. She reached for his rigid cock and slowly began to play with it, not taking her eyes from the scene below. "And it looks like he's got the equipment. I'd like to sample it."
"Yeah . . . Harry's a good looking young guy. And he's hung like a moose. I've seen him in the locker room at the club."
"I meant both of them," Marcia whispered after a minute. "Oh, would I love to feel those beautiful legs squeezing my face!"
"Hey! I didn't know you dug the girl bit so big!"
"Darn few girls," the slender blonde said. "But that one has to be the piece de resistance. "
In the yard below, a frolic seemed to have developed. Harry Lansing was now chasing his young, long legged wife around the yard, both of them slipping and sliding in the fresh cut grass. Her long hair flying, Beth stumbled and broke her stride and her husband caught her wrist, pulling her up. Then he held her firmly while he poured cold beer down the deep valley of her heaving breasts. The Kimbles could hear her squeals of protest, but he didn't release the dark-haired beauty until the can was empty.
"Look at me!" Beth wailed as foam streamed down the smooth soft curve of her belly. She'd been sweaty enough before, but the beer was sticky in the bargain. Without thinking, she quickly undid the knot which held the shirttails together under her breasts, and the firm globes bounced free of their confinement. "Just look at meeeeee!"
"Who could help it," her husband said, catching her around her slender, sleek waist and pulling her tight as he bent to take first one soft, hot breast and then the other into his eager mouth, his tongue teasing her nipples to elongated hardness and sensitivity. Beth felt a tingling deep in her loins and slowly she yielded to her passion, her hands caressing the blond head of her eager husband. She didn't try to squirm away when his hand delved lewdly between her splayed legs and his fingers slipped under the tight shorts to tease her cunt.
"Damn! Look at that!" the aroused Jack Kimble mumbled from his hidden vantage point while Marcia's lecherously clutching fingers slowly massaged his inflamed rod of flesh. "I hope he fucks her right there on the grass. I'll bet she's a wild piece of ass!"
"I can't stand this any more!" the trembling blonde said, transported to the height of carnal desire by the scene. "Turn a little sideways so I can see."
With that she sank slowly to her knees on the deep wine-red carpet, cupping her husband's scrotum in one hand, slowly pumping his throbbing penis with the other. Her soft mouth gaped wide, forming a glistening "O", and the tiny pink tip of her tongue flashed out, licking eagerly at the pearly drop of pre-seminal fluid which had gathered at the small hole in the head of his thick penis.
"Ummmmmmmmmmm . . . , " Marcia moaned in delight. Her tongue began to teasingly circle the ridge of the rubbery smooth cockhead, licking avariciously at the sweetness. Her eyes never left the couple in the adjoining yard even as she lifted her burly husband's lust engorged cock and the deft tip of her tongue lewdly flickered over the sensitive corona, then down the full length of the thick, heavily veined staff. She kissed and sucked his cum-laden balls and then, like it was an ear of corn, nibbled and kissed her way back to the mushroom shaped tip.
Marcia could wait no longer. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she engulfed her mate's pulsing cockhead, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on it like a fat straw.
Through her lust-crazed mind flashed the thought that once she had thought this an abomination, a perversion. It had taken Jack Kimble a full year to turn her into an expert and avid fellatrice. At times Marcia had thought it would be easier to learn to dance the Sleeping Beauty ballet as her sex-expert husband patiently led her from one nuance of the ancient art to the next. Learning to take his meaty cock deep in her throat, so his balls were smashed flat against her chin and her nose buried in the rich male fragrance of the pubic hair had perhaps been the most difficult.
After that had come what he lasciviously called "breathing exercises" in which she learned to go down to the limit and stay there for a full hour, breathing through her nostrils entirely. He had taught her to bring him to the peak and keep him there as long as he desired, and then with one wild plunge of her head, drain his spurting spear of flesh completely.
It had been the path to ecstasy for Marcia.
Now she held only the passion-gorged head between her lips, lightly sucking and running her tongue around the hot glans as from her subservient kneeling position she watched Beth and Harry. Obviously they were getting hotter than hell. And then, arms around each other, they went into their house.
"Shit!" Marcia said, and almost savagely engulfed her husband's pulsing manhood in her sorely stretched lips. Wildly her gulping mouth sucked in the full length of him, and her head began to bob with urgency and desire as her skilled fingers lewdly squeezed his balls. Her cheeks hollowed and ballooned with the fury of her attack, and Jack was fucking deep into her yearning oral cavity, his strong hands pulling her head tight to his quivering loins. She moaned, "Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm!"
And then he was ready. She felt the mushroom grow huge, stretching her saliva-drooling lips and then the jerking of his penis as the first spurts of hot, thick cum splattered against the roof of her mouth and down, searingly salty sweet, to her quaking belly. Her inner lips were drawn out like those of a feeding fish on each out-stroke and rammed back into the wetness of her mouth as her husband kept fucking her soft lips. She sucked" and gulped and swallowed as if nothing else in the world mattered, and at the moment, nothing else did. She moaned softly in disappointment when there was no more, but refused to release him until his male member was soft and shrunken inside her still yearning mouth. Then, panting heavily, she allowed herself to be lifted to her feet and kissed.
"I owe you one," he said.
"If you can figure a way to get those two beautiful toys for us, I'll write it off the books," the long-limbed blonde said impishly, licking her semen glistening mouth. "You should know quite a bit about Harry, all the business you do."
"Harry'd fuck a goat," Jack said. "She'll be the tough one. You remember we've had dinner a few times. When the jokes got a little blue, Beth turned off. And it's not a simple thing like inviting them over and getting them drunk and in bed. They hardly drink. And Harry might just get uptight if he caught me balling Beth."
"We don't want them that way anyhow," the languorous blonde amended thoughtfully. "We want them aware and turned on in a way they'll stay turned on. But we don't have much in common with them."
"Not much," Jack admitted. "Weekends, Harry lies in his hammock and watches Beth do the lawn. Sundays they usually pile in her Bug, put the top down and go on a picnic or to the beach or something."
"Hmmmmmmm . . . " Marcia mused. "Just the two of them. They must get bored just with each other. Maybe if they could be led into a group thing, it would open the door for us."
"Like what?"
"The bike bunch . . . get them interested and we'd have a common ground. And living right next door . . . well . . . "
"Doll, I think you might have something," her husband said, a conspiratorial gleam appearing in his eyes. "And at the right time, too. Tomorrow night's party, after the big ride. We'll have about thirty of the club here, and the films. Let me get on the phone."
"Wait!" Marcia Kimble cautioned. "If you interrupt them in the middle of a fuck, they'll never come."
Jack swung his muscular legs from the bed and padded to the window. It was almost night now, and the lights were on in the neighboring house. He said, "It's okay. They're both in the kitchen, dressed." He picked up the bedside phone and dialed and then said, "Harry? Jack. If you're not busy, Marcia and I would like to stop over for a little while. Got something to talk about."
He listened a moment, then hung up and said to his languorous blonde wife, "Half an hour. Put on something that'll give him an eyeful when you bend over."
"Do you let me wear anything else?" Marcia asked with a wry grin. She began to go through her wardrobe, looking for just the right garment. Something to whet Harry Lansing's imagination, stir the prurient beast within him, but not so severe it would raise the hackles on Beth's neck. She suspected that the dark-haired girl kept a sharp eye on her young husband. Finally she selected a smoke-gray mini-sheath which matched the color of her eyes and was just long enough so it wouldn't brazenly reveal her curvaceous ass-cheeks when she bent over, or ride up over her fine-sculpted lips, ran a comb through her tangled pale mane of hair and was ready.
Beth answered the door when they rang. She was glad of the company. After Harry had aroused her in the backyard, it was she who almost pulled him into their bed for a long session of fondling and deep kissing, with tongues entwining, lips hungrily sucking. Her hand boldly enclosed his penis and his finger slid tantalizingly up and down the soft, wet furrow of her dilating pussy, as the sweet aroma of their aroused bodies filled the room.
Kneading the foam-rubber resilience of Beth's breasts, Harry Lansing had begun his familiar campaign, blowing in her ear, teasing it with the hot wet tip of his tongue.
"Take me in your mouth," he had whispered.
"Nooooooooo.. . " Beth protested softly, but inside herself she knew the refusal wasn't as strong as it had been on previous occasions. She was terribly afraid that sometime she would succumb to her own hidden carnality. "Harry . . . Please!"
But in his woman-knowing way, her husband had subtly continued, caressing and kissing and whispering while her breathing grew more and more uneven.
"Then just kiss it, honey, please," he pleaded. "It'll make me harder than you've ever known me."
"How much harder can you get?" Beth whispered back, trying to repress a lewd giggle. Within herself a struggle raged and for a moment she lost as she suddenly yielded and said, "All right.. . a kiss, if it means that much."
"It does, honey, oh, how it does!" her delighted husband assured her. "Slide down a little in the bed and kneel by my hips. Make your lips soft and wet."
Obediently, Beth did as instructed. She held the surging shaft of his penis in her hand, examining it closely. This part didn't bother her.. . in fact she enjoyed holding her husband's swollen member, feeling it hard as an iron bar, knowing she had this effect on him. In the gathering twilight, she could see the dark blood-engorged head and her nostrils flared at the manly scent. Moistening her soft, full lips, she slowly lowered her beautiful face over Harry's trembling loins.
Breathing deeply, the dark-haired young woman blew on the mushroom-shaped head. A fraction of an inch separated it from her mouth, and the length of his shaft was all she could see.
Ever so lightly her wet lips brushed the warm smooth head and her tongue came in contact with the glistening drop of pre-seminal fluid.
"I can't!" Beth cried out, and before her startled mate could react, she swung her leg over his thighs, still tightly grasping his cock, he guided it instantly up to the flowering lips of her pussy and grunted as she impaled herself and felt the huge hot knob pushing waves of soft wet cuntal flesh ahead of it until in one movement he was buried to the base of his tree-like instrument up inside the warm moist depths of her clutching pussy. She threw her weight on him and wildly began to ride the rampant spear, feeling his heavy balls slap wetly against her wide-splayed ass-cheeks as she sobbed, "Harry, oh, Harry . . . I'm sorry! I meant to . . . I just couldn't! But I'll be good for you. So gooooood!"
"You're great," he reassured her, fucking up hard into her seething vagina so she grunted with the violence of his thrust. That one lunge was enough to start the already aroused young woman cumming. She felt the trembling begin deep in her belly, the tightening of her sucking cuntal muscles as the rampaging cock rammed far up into her sweetly gushing young pussy.
"Eeeeeeyyyyyaaaaaaahhhhh!" Beth cried out, grinding her pelvis down hard on his loins, rising straight up so his penis was going even farther into the hot liquid depths of her body. She could hear the sucking sounds as she rose and fell on his thundering cock, rocking back and forth, her buttocks churning wildly, her clitoris afire from the hard contact with his member and she begged, "Oooooohhhh . . . Stay hard! Stay in me, darling!"
He did, for a long time, until finally his cock began to swell and jerk and gush thick hot cum far into her quaking little belly. Only when there was no more did Beth stop her wild gyrations and collapse over the panting body of her husband, kissing his chest and his eyes and ears and mouth, as gradually his perns became shorter and softened within her trembling body. As she lay limply on top of him, her firm breasts flattened against his muscular chest, Beth realized that in almost two years of marriage, this had been the best ever!
And then a shocking thought hit her. Harry had been just as good countless times. The difference had been within herself, her arousal. Was it possible that the wanton way she had almost kissed his naked penis was the stimulating factor? God, she hoped not! Yet she had literally come within a hair's breadth of doing it, and then she had practically raped Harry. She tried to push the speculation from her mind, but nothing, even the cool shower they shared seemed to help. The thought kept haunting her.
So Beth was glad when the Kimbles came over.
Earlier in the day the dark-haired young wife had prepared a pickup supper and the two couples shared it after Harry got out the seldom-used gin and vermouth and mixed two rounds of martinis. Beth was pleased to discover it was a social rather than business call, but anything which would cool her lewd thoughts was welcome.
Jack and Marcia finally got around to explaining about their party and issuing the invitation. Harry and Beth exchanged questioning glances.
"Well, we were going on a picnic," Beth said uncertainly.
"Have your picnic. This won't get going until eight-thirty or nine anyway," Marcia urged.
"This is really a great gang. Not a drunk or pot smoker in the bunch. Bike riding keeps you in shape. Consider my handsome muscular spouse. If he didn't ride every week, he'd be a blimp."
"Let's do it, honey," Harry urged, and Beth quickly agreed.
They played four-handed pinochle until after midnight. Then Beth felt some of her security vanish as the door closed behind the Kimbles, and resolutely she told herself: I won't let myself be tempted! She sought for something that had to be done, hoping Harry would go up to bed and be asleep by the time she got there, but there was nothing. The dishes were in the washer, the ashtrays cleaned, the uneaten food in the refrigerator.
And there was a gleam of lust in Harry's eyes, as if he knew just how close he had come to winning his lewd campaign. He took Beth in his arms and kissed her deeply, running his hand up the soft inside of her quivering thighs to the dampness of her cunt. His other hand unzipped her light summer dress.
"Your panties are sopping wet," he whispered. "Your cunt lips are open like a flower in spring. Feel me," he urged, guiding her hand to his rising cock. "I'm not tired."
"You, my friend, didn't spend the whole afternoon in the hot sun pushing a lawn mower," she said with a grin that she hoped he would read as just fooling. "You lay there in your hammock while your harem girl brought flagons of icy cold beer. Look, lover, I really am beat. In the morning, okay? Nice way to wake up."
"Okay, Miss Frigid," the lean man said.
In minutes they were in bed, naked, cuddled close. He didn't try to arouse her, and Beth realized she was tired.
In the big house next door, Jack and Marcia Kimble hugged each other gleefully and Jack said, "Baby, Phase One complete."
"I'll fuck to that!" The blonde unzipped his fly and groped.
* * *
Indeed, everything went as planned the next evening, and Harry and Beth found themselves experiencing the first pangs of hunger after their early afternoon picnic when a swarm of ten-speed bikes materialized in the drive of the Kimble place. Earlier a caterer's truck had arrived and a lavish banquet was set up in the softly lighted backyard. Cases of soft drinks and a keg of beer were on ice as a crowd of about forty spread out over the lavishly landscaped grounds. Beth and Harry drifted over, pausing to look at the tangle of expensive bikes and wonder what one cost.
Jack and Marcia greeted them at the breezeway which led to the scene of festivities. "Beer and soda pop out here if you want something stronger, you know where the kitchen is."
"Beer will be fine for us, Jack," Harry said. He looked over the assembly and was pleased with what he saw. The bike riders were young for the most part, and obviously in top physical shape, particularly their legs, which were heavily muscular. Obviously ravenous, they swarmed around the buffet and beer and soda pop, slaking their thirst after a long ride, filling their empty stomachs. There wasn't a bulging belly among them, and suddenly the young business manager felt self-conscious about his potential paunch. "They are a clean-cut group too bad the motorcycle gangs aren't like them. By the way, what's one of those bikes worth?"
"You name it, buddy," Jack replied. "You can get one for a little over a hundred bucks, but it'll have a heavy frame and you'll be working your legs like hell to give your ass a ride. Some go as high as a thousand, and those you can lift with your little finger. Figure maybe three bills for a good touring bike, set up with headlamp, mirrors, theft chain, water bottle, tool kit and such."
"That much?" Beth put in.
"Think what you save on gas. Come on, before the chow is all gone," the banker said, drawing them along to the buffet. He drew Harry aside and whispered, "I'm not going to try to introduce you around you'd never remember their names. But they'll remember yours, because you're the only one they don't know. Now, take a look out there. About half those young couples are married and living in cracker boxes I wouldn't keep a skunk in. Let them know where you work, and I think you'll see a bunch dropping in at the trailer lot. Some have the money. For those who don't, bring them to me. I know the ones who'll be good for it, and I'll fix something up. Okay?"
Harry saw the logic of it and, with Beth at his side began to circulate. He discovered he knew several of the guests and with Beth being at her charming best, had no difficulty in making friends. He noted smugly that several well formed and apparently unattached girls in skintight shorts looked at him in a way that said they wondered if it would be possible to separate him from his wife.
A music system began to blast out the latest noise, and some of the young people had changed to bathing suits and were splashing in the pool.
"You know, I sort of dig this," Beth said, hugging his arm possessively. "You should get a bike. Get rid of the spare tire."
"I know a way that's more fun and so do you," Harry quipped.
"I think it's supposed to strengthen back muscles too," she shot back, grinding a smooth hip against him.
Later a movie projector and screen were set up and a color film produced by an association of bicycle manufacturers was shown. It proved to be of more than passing interest to the club members, for they were in one segment, pictured pedaling through towering mountains on roads where not a car was to be seen, picnicking, camping out in sleeping bags by the side of a quick-running stream. There were friendly cheers and boos at appropriate places and a lot of good-natured kidding back and forth. It seemed like a happy, healthy means of socializing also.
The party began to break up after the movie ended, and soon Harry and Beth were the only ones left. They accepted an invitation to stay with their neighbors for a nightcap, and as the two couples settled down in the intimacy of the dark-paneled den, Harry said, "Beth and I are impressed. Frankly, we're bored with the same old stuff on weekends. How do you get into the bike scene anyway?"
"Well, it's like barbecuing a whale," Jack said with a grin. "First you get a whale. Look, if you're really interested, I can take an afternoon off and the four of us will go down to Lou's bike shop and we'll see if he can fit you."
"Fit us?" Beth said, not understanding.
"Right. Bikes come in different sizes for different leg lengths. Harry has much longer legs than I have, and I couldn't ride a bike that fit him, and vice versa. And there are dozens of makes. And options, just like cars. What do you say?"
Enthused by the quality of people she had met and intrigued by the potential pleasure of getting away from their weekend rut, Beth quickly assented. After some hesitation, Harry agreed too.
Later they were glad they had Jack and Marcia to advise them. Four hours passed before they left the shop with two bikes and various accessories in the back of the station wagon and their checkbook some seven hundred dollars lighter. Then the Kimbles whisked them to a sports shop for proper biking clothes, and as the bank balance got lower, Harry wondered what he'd gotten into.
"Only one thing bothers me," he said as he pored laboriously over an operating manual which would have done justice, in his opinion, to the newest model of jet aircraft. "How the hell do you ride one of the goddamned things? I went around the block and felt like I was bent double."
"Oh, you'll catch on," Marcia said with a laugh. "A couple of days. We'll show you the basics in the evening after work. This weekend Jack and I were planning a ride by ourselves and a camp out. It would be a good chance for you to find your bike legs if you want to come."
"Sounds like a good idea," Beth agreed. "I'd hate to make a fool of myself in front of the whole club."
"Baby, everybody bounces once in awhile," Jack Kimble said reassuringly.
They parted then, and Beth and Harry wheeled their new mounts into their garage and looking at them with distrust. Suddenly they seemed malevolent.
Next door, Jack and Marcia Kimble mixed strong drinks and toasted each other, as prurient thoughts of the near future rumbled through their minds.
"We've got 'em, Jack!" she exclaimed. "We've got them!"
CHAPTER TWO
"And we want to keep them!" her banker husband admonished. "No matter how bonkers it may drive us, we're not going to do a damn thing except be pure, healthy bike riders this time out. Maybe the first few times. We just make sure they enjoy themselves and have fun."
"But Jack . . . " the limber blonde protested, "I thought.. . "
"You don't think, love, except with your pussy, when it comes to something like this," the stocky man argued. "First Beth and Harry aren't dopes. Suppose we did get chummy over a bottle this weekend and got a trade going. Well, they'd hate themselves and us in the morning and that would be the first, last and only time. And there'd be repercussions at the bank. Harry can take his business across the street any time he feels like it, and he is my best small-business client. I'd have a hell of a time explaining to the directors how the account was lost."
"I suppose so," Marcia murmured, disappointed.
"And then there's the angle of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. Remember when I talked you into riding? Christ, you didn't know you had all those muscles. After the first tour and it was only thirty, pretty flat miles, you walked bowlegged and bent over for a week. I forget how much liniment you sloshed on yourself."
"Oh, God, do I remember!"
"Harry isn't in shape. Bet you after the first day you'd need a block and tackle just to lift him into the saddle. And Beth would be a piece of dead meat with me," her clear-thinking husband went on. "Give them a few weeks. A couple of tours with the club, and with just the two of us." He winked. "Of course, we can sort of tease them a little along the way."
"How?" Marcia asked, tossing her pale mane of long hair. "If we're keeping hands off."
"Visual stimulation and stagecraft," Jack said with a lewd smile. "We'll go up to the old McCullough place this weekend. The bank's handling the property and I've got the gate key. We've balled down by the stream often enough. So after we turn in with the sleeping bags, you and I slip away, but make enough noise so we wake them. We go down by the creek and ball like hell in the moonlight. Really fool around. A long performance. Sucking and eating and fucking in all kinds of positions. A real sex show. Bet you they'll be watching from the bushes."
The idea stimulated Marcia. She liked to do it with an audience, knowing that every man watching wanted her limber, full-breasted body, or her lush-lipped mouth, or her tiny tight anus. And often the women wanted her too. She usually found herself with two partners at the same time, and it was really wild! And there was something extra in doing it in the open, under the sun or the moon, feeling the rough earth against her bare skin as cocks and tongues plunged obscenely into her wantonly welcoming body. She said, "That sounds far out, Jack, and I know Harry would be right on top of it -Christ, I thought his eyes would burn a hole through my mini right into my cunt tonight -but what about Beth? I think she'd put the kibosh on it."
"She'll come look just to see what's happening. I think the fire is smoldering there, and maybe she doesn't know it herself. Once she gets an eyeful she won't take time out to blink!" Jack predicted.
"Hope you're right," his long-limbed wife said. "And that there is a moon."
"It'll be full, and this time of year we never get clouds," he assured her. "Meanwhile, you can soften the darling girl up."
"How?"
"Teach her to ride the goddamned bike," he said with a touch of irritation. "A couple of hours every day if you can work it. Get her muscles toned up so that when I get my prick into her it'll be like bouncing on a trampoline."
"And I suppose you're going to be Harry's trainer?" Marcia said with a pout.
"By the time we get ready to move on them, Harry will be able to do his thing," Jack predicted confidently. He winked suggestively then. "And it will give you a chance to get really chummy with Beth, so that when we've got the swap started, she won't go bounding off like a frightened deer the first time you put your hand on her cunt. But for God's sake, play it cool. Don't do something dum-dum like getting her all sweated up on the bike and then suggest she join you for a cold shower!"
"I wasn't born yesterday," Marcia drawled. "We've been through this routine before, you know."
"Okay, that's our game plan, then. Want to fuck?"
"What do you think?" his sultry blonde wife asked teasingly, reclining on the bed, her fingers urgently tweaking the rising nipples of her breasts.
Reaching for a tube of jelly, the stocky man uncapped it and said, "Roll over and let's try the glory hole."
"I thought you said 'fuck', " Marcia giggled lewdly. She rolled onto her stomach and then rose to her knees, legs spread wide, her pale-fringed pussy lips beginning to dilate and fill with blood, the tiny pink rose of her anus obscenely exposed. She got her elbows under her, stretched her hands straight ahead like a Muslim at prayer and trembled as she felt her husband's strong hands splitting her curvaceous ass-cheeks wide, and then his fingers rubbing the lubricating jelly into her resilient nether flesh. Then he was hovering over her, the bulbous knob of his cock-head pressing at her tightly puckered anus. Grunting, they thrust together. Her sphincter stretched and yielded as Marcia wriggled her buttocks in lewd invitation. She felt the full length of his pulsing cock going deep up into her rectum, and she sighed, "Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh . . . "
* * *
In the Lansing home, life was not going so smoothly in those early morning hours. Beth, undressing for bed, was bothered by two factors and she was sure there would be unpleasantness before daylight.
First, the way her husband's eyes had been fixed on the sleek figure of Marcia Kimble had not escaped her for a moment. Every time Marcia had crossed the room with that inviting sway to her rich hips, Harry had been mentally stripping the tall blonde naked. Not that she could blame him much, because every time Marcia bent over even slightly the abbreviated skirt had ridden up to show the smooth roundness of her ass-cheeks, covered by only the flimsiest of bikini panties. And if she happened to be facing toward Harry, her ripe breasts almost fell from her bodice.
Not that Beth could blame her husband or any man for ogling Marcia Kimble. And Jack didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to take pride in having a wife other men lusted for on sight. And she was aware that Jack in his turn had given her nothing but approving and possibly speculative glances. Now Beth was beginning to get a few second thoughts about the bike thing, but they were too far in to back out now. Well, she could take care of herself, she was sure of that, but she dreaded the thought of any unpleasantness.
Second, she knew that Harry was hot again from the stimulation of eyeing the near-naked Marcia for hours. He would want to screw her again . . . often he raised a rock-hard erection two or three times a night and took her long and forcefully.
Not that the dark-haired dark-eyed woman objected. Her young body liked to feel his rampaging maleness plunging in and out of her clutching pussy, and she thought she could be as passionate as any woman.
But this night she was afraid of herself. She kept thinking of how she had almost yielded to her deep-buried wanton desires and taken Harry's cock into her soft, virginal mouth this afternoon. For an instant her lips had actually made the lightest possible contact with the throbbing, mushroom-shaped tip before her moral upbringing had overcome her carnality and she had desperately mounted his muscular body and impaled her tight little pussy on his long thick rod of flesh. Beth, undressed now and lying naked on the sheets while Harry used the bathroom, was afraid. She was sure that her aroused husband would, after having almost succeeded in getting her to fellate him as he had begged her to do so many times in the past, would certainly try again tonight and this time she was almost certain she would discard all her morals and yield her soft wet lips, at least to kiss his penis as she had agreed to earlier before her nerve left her, if not actually take it into her mouth.
Beth had heard all the arguments, both from Harry and a few of her more uninhibited girlfriends.
A man's penis was far cleaner than his mouth, as far as germs went.
Doctors, psychiatrists, marriage counselors and others in professional positions now strongly recommended fellatio and cunnilingus as perfectly natural and beneficial to both partners, either as foreplay to straight intercourse or as an end in themselves.
With her sucking mouth clamped tightly to her partners cock, a woman could give far more varied and satisfying pleasure to her partner than with her vagina alone.
Ingesting male semen was actually healthful. It made the complexion clearer and sometimes caused breasts to grow larger.
And it was a lot of fun!
Now, as Harry came naked into the room, his penis waving like a thick pine tree in a high wind, his eyes glittering with obscene anticipation, the young housewife almost cringed. Beth started to draw the thin sheet over her curvaceous body and whispered, "Harry . . . please don't!"
"What the hell!" he blurted, standing over the bed staring. He could not believe his ears. Since they had been married, his voluptuous dark-eyed wife had never objected. "Did I hear right?"
"Yes," Beth whispered, her mouth twisted with the effort of saying it. "Harry, I'm just plain beat. . . exhausted."
"Horseshit!" he blurted, and slid into bed beside her, taking her in his strong arms, pulling her warm, trembling body tight to the length of his, pressing his cock into the softness of her quaking belly, rubbing her, caressing the milk-white softness of her high, firm breasts as Beth writhed against him. "Exhausted from what?"
"Just. . . tired. People do get tired," Beth mumbled.
Without a word he grasped her hand and forced her reluctant fingers down around the pulsating thickness of his rigid cock. Beth could feel the thick veins jumping as his heart began to beat faster. Then his hand was up between her legs, his fingers parting the dark cuntal slit, seeking the wet coral-hued inner flesh, teasing her reluctantly swelling clitoris, and she moaned in mounting carnal desire as her body of its own will began to undulate against her eager husband.
If only he would spread her legs and put it into her hot cunt quickly, it would be all right, Beth knew. God! She wanted it, and she knew that Harry was well aware of the fact.
"Ooooohhhhh . . . Ooooooooohhhhhh the dark-tressed young woman sighed, and let her legs splay lewdly open on the sheets.
'That's better," Harry said with a salacious chuckle. She humped her dark-curled pubic mound in invitation, praying he would mount her and ram his cock deep into her yearning little belly in one savage lunge. But Harry didn't. She felt him shifting on the bed, and then a hand at the back of her head, pulling her up from the pillow as he said in obscene urgency, "Finish it, baby. What you started before you freaked earlier. Suck me!"
"No!" Beth almost shrieked, struggling to free herself from his savage grasp as he roughly pushed her fear-contorted face down to his loins.
His cock seemed enormous, and now it was rubbing against the softness of her cheek and under her chin and even across her tightly compressed lips as tears began to stream from her eyes and roll down her face. His rampant penis was hard and hot, the reddish-purple blood-swollen tip felt soft and rubbery against her face. Harry had a fistful of her long dark hair now, twisting, forcing her head around and down until the blunt bulbous knob was pushing hard against her soft full lips. She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw muscles stood out like walnuts. She kicked and beat at his hard-muscled body with her fists but couldn't seem to hurt him. Then some instinct told her to go limp for an instant, and she did.
Sensing triumph, her aroused husband relaxed his grip on her head for an instant, and like a savage cat striking, Beth swooped down, her mouth wide open, fine white teeth bared. She sank her teeth deep into the ultra-sensitive flesh of his inner thigh, biting so hard she tasted blood and heard her husband cry out in surprise. Then stars exploded in her head as the flat of his hand clouted her, knocking her loose, sending her sprawling from the bed to the carp ted floor. Crablike, she scrambled away, trying to get to her feet, and falling again.
"You goddamned crazy fucking cunt!" he yelled at her, staring at the trickle of blood that began just an inch below his semen-heavy balls. "You nuts or something?"
"You perverted animal," Beth hissed. She was afraid he was going to come after her and beat her, and she looked for a weapon but there was nothing close at hand. Terrified, she cringed in a corner as the menacing figure of her raging husband loomed over her. His hand came flashing down, but he didn't hit her. Harry grabbed her left arm in fingers of spring steel and effortlessly jerked her to her feet and threw her on the bed.
Beth landed hard, bouncing, legs flying wide open, exposing the tight pink slit of her pussy and the soft dark curls which guarded it. Her full-mounded breasts bounced and jiggled and she raised her arm over her face to protect herself from the beating she still expected. She could see the thin string of blood seeping through the hairy skin of Harry's leg where she'd bitten him.
Then, with a lunge he was on top of her, mauling her breasts and painfully twisting the nipples as Beth sobbed uncontrollably beneath him.
His face a mask of fury, Harry said, "You bitch! I should beat the ass off you. Instead, I'll just fuck it off!"
With that he threw her thrashing legs up over her shoulders until his rampant cock had an unobstructed path to her helplessly strained pussy. Her tear-streaked face was framed by her slender, shapely calves and Beth thought her spine was going to snap because of the way she was bent double. Through the blur of tears, she saw his massive penis bearing down like a rocket on her defenselessly spread pussy. It slammed into her tender cunt lips and bored relentlessly up into her fear-tensed belly, slamming painfully against the mouth of her womb.
"Aaaaauuuuuggggghhhhh!" the lewdly impaled woman cried out, and tried to struggle. But it was impossible, because Harry was lying heavily on top of her contorted body now, his powerful hands gripping her slender ankles and jamming her long legs so far back she was sure the tendons would pull loose from their sockets as he began to fuck violently in and out of her gaping pussy like a machine gone wild. "Oh, my God!" the shocked and terrified dark-haired beauty sobbed. This was rape! "Harry . . . You're hurting meeeeeeee!"
"You're lucky I don't break your fucking neck!" he gasped, withdrawing until only the glistening head of his cock was still imbedded in her writhing body, then slamming forward with brutal force, sending ripples of ravaged cuntal flesh flowing ahead of it. His heavy balls smacked wetly and relentlessly against her lewdly exposed anus and sweat soaked her sorely stretched ass-cheeks.
Nothing like this had ever happened to Beth Lansing before. God, but it hurt. Her backbone seemed to be on the verge of snapping, and all she could see was the tremendous log-like cudgel of her husband's male flesh pistoning in and out of her helplessly dilated vagina. With each out-stroke, tightly clinging pink cuntal flesh was pulled out from her squirming body, only to be rammed far up inside her again an instant later as Harry's long thick cock ravaged her defenseless body. Beth shut her tear-brimming dark eyes tight and tried to make believe it wasn't happening to her! This was the sort of thing she might expect if some hoodlum had attacked her on one of her nighttime strolls -but never from the husband she loved, the man she thought loved her.
Then, in a masochistic way, she began to find some pleasure in it. Her body had adjusted to its twisted, bent position, and Harry was getting deeper into her ordinarily eager pussy than he ever had before. Instinctively Beth wanted to join him now, writhe her hips, hump her clutching pussy up to get more and more of his rampant white-hot spear. She'd never been screwed to such a frenzy in her life! God! He was splitting her wide open, grinding his pelvis against the hotly throbbing bud of her clitoris, and sweat was pouring from her straining body. Her arms flailed and her hands beat a tattoo on the bed and she moaned, "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhh . . . Eeeeeeeey yyyaaaahhhhhh!"
"Yeah," he grunted, ramming into her yielding flesh. "You like it rough, don't you, bitch! Well, it'll get rougher!"
Despite the obscene way he'd assaulted her, Beth's carnal needs had betrayed her, and she had been on the point of wildly throwing her arms around his neck and holding him close and fucking up and down on his pummeling cock with all the strength of her young, eager body. But his words were a bitter slap in the face to her. All sensation left Beth's straining body in an instant. She was only dimly aware that a steel-hard bar of flesh was invading her tender loins. She looked up into her husband's lust-crazed eyes and spoke with a coldness she'd never used toward him, or any person, in her life.
"I wish you'd finish," she said scornfully. "After all, I'm just a receptacle. You don't care at all whether I'm enjoying this or not."
This only added to the young trailer salesman's fury, and for a moment she thought he was going to strike her again, but he only gritted his teeth and his lips twisted in a tight grimace as his cock reamed deep into her now motionless flesh. And her scorn had an even more devastating effect. Correctly reading the complete indifference in Beth's eyes, and her momentary hatred and disgust, Harry lost his erection in a matter of seconds.
What less than a minute before had been a pile-driving shaft of spring steel suddenly softened and became a fat, shriveled worm. Cursing, he tried to get hard again, but it was no use. His lovely wife had unconsciously hit a nerve, made him see he was a complete shit, and that took everything out of Harry. With a groan of frustration, he crawled away from Beth, and she slowly lowered her obscenely stretched legs, her beautiful face expressionless. That hurt. too. Harry could have understood it if there'd been a smile of vengeful female triumph on the sensuous lips, but there was nothing there, or in the eyes. He was a non-person to his wife.
Slowly he rolled from the bed and went into the bathroom. He washed and put stinging iodine on the place where she had bitten and drawn blood.
As he came out and went shamefacedly back to bed, Beth passed him and shut the door behind her. Harry was sure she'd spend the rest of this night and maybe a lot more nights in the guest room rather than share a bed with him.
Again she put him down by calmly returning in a few minutes and sliding still naked into her own side of the bed. Hell, she didn't even care enough about him to avoid him after the lousy thing he had done to her. Harry wanted to apologize, try to explain, beg her to forgive him, but he knew this was not the time. He rolled on his side, leaving plenty of room between them, and eventually went to sleep.
On her side of the bed, Beth Lansing cried soundlessly, blaming herself for what had happened more than Harry. She knew he was a sensualist, one of those men who have a tremendous sex drive. She realized her own desires were almost a match for his, with the exception of the fact that she just didn't believe in his kind of variety. Deep down in her heart she was sure that the variations he so ardently proposed would be highly pleasurable for her too . . . yet her conservative upbringing held her prisoner. Although all the evidence and arguments for a more varied sex life were on
Harry's side, she just could not break down the barrier which had been years in forming.
This had been their first real fight since their marriage, and Beth hadn't known how to handle it, so she had reacted like a cornered wild animal. And just as her lewd desires, and the vision of what she must look like being so roughly subjugated by the rough male lust of her husband, had been about to sweep away all restraint, he had blurted out his hateful words and destroyed it all. And then she had struck back, unexpectedly hitting a vital spot and hurting Harry far more than she intended.
Beth had tried to sort out her confused thoughts during the minutes she had spent in the bathroom. She didn't want to face Harry yet, and thought of sleeping in the guest room. But, she considered, that would only make things worse, deepen his humiliation and feeling of rejection. So Beth had forced herself to return to their bed but masking her feelings, showing her husband a completely inscrutable face. And he had barely glanced at her, his hatred, she thought, was so deep.
"Jesus," she whispered. "How will I ever patch this up!"
So, in the long silence of the bitter night, each completely misinterpreted the other's feelings. Beth wished they'd had more fights, small ones, because then she would have some idea of how to handle this blockbuster that had blown them to separate sides of the big bed.
The troubled brunette beauty was completely ignorant when it came to fighting. She blamed much of this on the idyllic marriage of her parents. Her father ran a small, old-fashioned, but profitable hardware store in a central Oregon city. The family was not wealthy, but prosperous, typical Middle America.
Beth's mother was content to be a housewife and had no interest in clubs or do-gooder organizations. Their rambling old Victorian home was always spotless, and if the furniture was forty or fifty years out of date, it was comfortable.
Not once in all her years at home had Beth ever heard her parents raise their voices to each other. For one to have struck the other was unthinkable. The family attended the Baptist church but was not active in its affairs. It had been a placid life, but hardly one to prepare the budding Beth for marriage to a fast-moving, quick-dealing husband like Harry.
Beth was just realizing how much she had to learn. One thing she was sure of her married life would never be like that of her parents. If for no other reason than the passage of time and the emergence of the modern, highly mobile, affluent leisure society and its permissiveness.
Harry Lansing was a product of that society, and now one of those who made it run faster and faster. He was a California boy, and even now they don't raise the same kind of people in central Oregon as they do in free-swinging California. Beth knew that she was the one who would have to adapt, of necessity. Not only could Harry never fit into the world in which she had grown to curvaceous, sensuous maturity that world no longer existed.
And, Beth reasoned, she was the one who would have to take the first step toward healing the breach. She knew it must have been a terrible blow to her virile husband's psyche when her scornful words had cut him so deeply that he went soft inside her tight, lubricious cunt just as she was on the point of totally yielding herself.
Wet-eyed, Beth silently cried out her frustration as she stared at the pale rectangle of the bedroom window, and she made a momentous decision.
She would do it!
Now!
She would show her husband how repentant she was, and restore his shaken faith in his manhood.
Beth swept all thought of right and wrong from her mind as she determined to take his penis into her soft lips and waken him, kneeling subserviently between his legs and letting him grow and fill her salivating mouth!
Silently she eased across the big bed until she felt the heat of his body. She drew down the single sheet that covered them and gazed at the dim shape of his sleeping frame. His penis, shriveled and short now, lay limply across the thigh she had bitten in fury but a short time before.
With purposeful fingers, the trembling wife reached out to touch it, and almost giggled when she realized this was one of the few times she had seen it soft. Harry was always so randy and ready! Gently she rolled back the fleshy foreskin and her fingers lightly caressed the moist softness of the tip. Harry made a little moaning sound in his sleep, but didn't stir. Beth rose to her knees above his naked loins and for a long time stared at his cock, thinking of what she must do. Somehow, with Harry asleep, it didn't seem as difficult as she thought it would. Gently she rolled the cap of skin back and forth, her head slowly descending toward his flaccid member, her tongue nervously wetting her lips. They pursed into a warm, glistening oval, and Beth knew she could do it!
Tenderly she kissed the unresponsive head and then timidly sucked it into her salivating mouth. Surprisingly, there was no taste except for a slight saltiness. Tentatively she sucked and explored the little end-slit with the tip of her tongue, feeling a twinge of excitement in her loins as she realized she was finally doing this forbidden thing! Between her inexperienced lips, the tender flesh twitched slightly, and Beth's fingernails danced lightly over her husband's velvet-soft testicles.
"Aarrraaauuuuufffff!" Harry snorted, not waking, but tossing and turning. His hand came up like he was brushing a bothersome fly away, and Beth found her experiment at an abrupt end as the cock which had been so eager for her oral ministrations an hour before slipped from between her lewdly sucking lips.. . Harry snored.
Startled for a minute, the long-limbed brunette finally had to stifle her chuckles, realizing her husband was so deep asleep she'd have had to kick him awake.
"Oh, boy, Harry, you'll never know what you slept through," she whispered to herself, grinning.
Before drifting off to sleep herself, Beth Lansing decided she felt better now. She'd taken the big first step, actually absorbed his cock into her mouth and without the revulsion she'd feared. Of course, it had been less than a minute, and the results were a definite zero, but she didn't feel the guilt or debasement she'd expected. It hadn't seemed natural, of course, but on the other hand it had not seemed unnatural.
But, the musing beauty wondered, could she do it when Harry was wide awake and his cock was sticking out long and thick and pulsing with livid desire?
Beth wasn't at all sure about that . . . but at least she'd made a start.
* * *
"I was a real bastard," Harry said contritely as she prepared breakfast. "Babe, I'm sorry. You know how horny I get."
"I wasn't so sweet myself," Beth said, smiling as she put scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and coffee in front of him. "We just don't know how to fight, I guess."
"You know how to fight," her husband said ruefully. "You've got the fangs of a sabre-toothed tiger." He grinned and began to eat. "It's going to be hell, straddling that hard skinny bike saddle considering where you bit."
"Want to call it off?" Beth said, half-hoping he would
"Hell, no," Harry replied. "I'll just bring a can of that aerosol pain killer and walk bowlegged."
Beth was absolutely buoyant as she watched him drive off in the station wagon. She knew
Harry must be feeling plenty guilty, whereas she herself felt no guilt at all now. Somehow she reasoned that in attempting to accede to his long-standing obscene desires and fellate him, that she had absolved herself. Anyway, they were both to blame for the fiasco, and the less said the better.
* * *
Marcia Kimble called, inviting her to lunch, and Beth accepted. They ate in the shade of the big tree by the pool as the temperature rose into the eighties, and when they were finished the lissome blonde suggested they get their bikes out and Beth could get in a little practice for the weekend.
"Oh, Marcia, it's so hot!" the dark-haired girl protested. She could feel the sweat beading on her body under her thin blouse and making the "vee" of her loins sweaty.
"Honey, you think this is hot? Wait and see what it's like after a fifty-mile ride and ten degrees more. That is hot! Come on, got to get you toughened up."
"Okay," Beth yielded. "I'll go home and change."
"Not for just practice," Marcia said. "Save the good duds for when you've learned not to fall off."
In a half hour they were pedaling along a country road which rose and fell and writhed through the gentle foothills, shaded in many sections by oak and madrona and pepper trees. Somewhere nearby a brook was talking to itself. Beth felt good, even though long unused muscles were beginning to throb. But she was catching on to how the bike should be handled. She just wished the thin saddle had a little more comfort built into it, and suspected her buttocks would be black and blue that night. Also, she found the rough-riding bike sexually stimulating. Every little jar rammed the narrow saddle hard against her sensitive pussy, and she thought that if this kept up much longer, she would cum!
"I never knew this road was here," Beth said, as she shifted down on the approach to a hill. The shifting was the most difficult part for her. She could never quite remember which of the two front sprockets, or which of the five rear, was engaged, but was sure that in time it would come to her. The caliper brakes front and rear had quickly taught her which was which. Three times she grabbed the front brake first. The wheel locked and without grace or ceremony she went flying over the underslung handlebars to land painfully and without dignity, swearing softly. And, as if announcing the miracle of the day, "We haven't seen a single car!"
"That's one of the beautiful things about riding a bike," Marcia replied, smiling. "In a car, you'd completely pass this road up. When we go out, we're always looking for these remote byways, and you'd be surprised how many we find, even with all the new people moving in and the land being subdivided."
Beth Lansing, her dark hair streaming dark in the breeze as they topped the rise and began a fast descent into a little valley, could only smile her complete agreement. She hadn't felt so free, so in possession of herself, in a long time. The joy of the warm summer afternoon was enough to make her forget her aching muscles. She wondered how far they had ridden and thought it just had to be ten miles at least. Her thin shirt was soaked through with perspiration, clinging to her like a second skin, and her cunt was on fire from the unending vibrations. She began to suspect that a lot of the rides were topped off by uninhibited sex because there was no denying a throbbing clitoris and a hotly flowing pussy.
"I'll admit we fudge a little on finding these roads," Marcia said with a wink as they rode side by side, coasting now on a gentle downgrade. "We buy government maps that show every little trail and shack, and then we explore."
"Sounds great!" Beth said enthusiastically, not knowing that this particular road led to the
McCullough place, where Jack and Marcia had carefully planned to arouse her and her husband with a wantonly lewd display of sex in the moonlight and break down her resistance for what they hoped would eventually develop. But now her thigh muscles were aching, and it seemed like they would knot up at any moment with painful cramps. Wincing, the dark-haired girl said, "I hurt.. . can we stop for a little?"
"I thought you would," Marcia replied with a tinkling laugh. "A mile or so ahead there's a clearing by the stream. I brought some linament."
There was a turnout and a dirt lane leading down to an oak-shaded vale and a small strip of sand where the creek backed up and formed a pool. It was quiet and dark and completely secluded in case anybody came by, which seemed unlikely as they hadn't seen a single soul for miles. Beth gazed at the slowly moving clear water and said, "Ooh, I could sure go for a swim."
"You didn't bring a bathing suit," Marcia said, not trusting herself. Jack had made it abundantly clear there was to be no fooling around until the time was right, but she could see the way Beth's sawed-off jeans were pressing into the sweet slit of her pussy, clearly outlining the soft lips, and she found herself salivating. She was afraid of blowing the whole scheme.
"We could go skinny dipping there's nobody around," Beth said boldly.
"That's mountain water about two degrees above freezing," Marcia admonished. "A couple of minutes in that pool and you'd have cramps that would make you scream in agony, the way you're heated up."
Beth Lansing could appreciate the logic. . . but the water was so tempting. Nevertheless, as she moved toward it, every muscle in her body twanged in protest and she sank down gratefully in a patch of thick, sweet-smelling grass and began to rub her legs.
"Maybe too much too soon," Marcia said, kneeling beside her with a bottle and pouring some of the contents into the palm of her hand. She began to rub and stroke Beth's long, slender legs and the pungent odor of liniment filled the air. "Most of the trip back is downhill, and we'll take it easy, okay?"
"Ummmmmmmm.. . " Beth murmured, stretching, luxuriating in the soothing caress and the penetrating medication.
Marcia's fingers shook as she skillfully massaged the beautiful brunette's legs. They were so soft, yet firmly muscled. Oh, how sweet it would be to have them clamped tight to her face while her skilled tongue worked Beth up to a frenzy of sensual desire. And the younger woman was showing signs of response to
Marcia's grasping hands too, sighing, her full breasts beginning to rise and fall unevenly and her hips rolling slowly on the soft carpet of grass.
Damn Jack anyway! Marcia thought. She knew that a few more minutes of her lewdly deft manipulations, which already had her sexy neighbor halfway into a trance, and she could make love to her! Beth was ripe and ready right now, whether she knew it or not. Probably she didn't. Beth had certainly never fooled around with another girl, of that Marcia was sure. But Jack did know best. . . there was no point in blowing their carefully planned scene for one frantic lesbian eruption. It was nevertheless a great struggle for Marcia to finally cap the bottle. Shaking like a new bride, Marcia replaced it in the saddlebag of her bike and returned with a Thermos jug and paper cups.
"Gin and tonic, pre-mixed and ice cold," she said.
Beth didn't care for the drink, but at the moment she felt like her throat was on fire, and made no protest. And the tart drink was refreshing . . . she could not remember ever enjoying a drink more in her life. The bottle held a pint, and between them they finished it, while talking about the weekend bike trip. They would start out early Saturday morning and take their time, stopping at some roadside tavern for lunch. They would bring enough food for their evening meal and breakfast in the morning plus Sunday lunch. Both the Kimbles and the Lansings had camping gear, sleeping bags and ground covers and such. Marcia stressed the fact that every extra ounce on a bike was that much more work, and said she would pick up everything they'd need.
"A lot of it will be dehydrated, to save space and weight, but the stuff is really good they feed it to astronauts and anyway, you'll be hungry enough to eat the ass off a skunk," she assured Beth with a flash of vulgarity.
Time passed and the level of the gin and tonic went down in time to the sinking sun. Beth dozed, content, until Marcia shook her awake and said it was time they left. She didn't like to ride in the dusk, because visibility was poor and on a bike you stood no chance against a car at any speed. Beth groaned at the ache in her muscles as she remounted her new bike, but within a couple of miles, her muscles had limbered up and she was able to easily keep up with Marcia.
As they pulled up in front of the Kimble house, Beth had to laugh. Her husband Harry was in the process of taking a beautiful header from his bike as Jack Kimble stood by and shouted instructions.
Ruefully Harry picked himself up and became aware of the two wives. He said, "Did you see what happened to me!"
"I sure did," Beth said teasingly. "You fell right flat on your ass! Do it again!"
"Sure, pal.. . you know, when an Air Force pilot busts a plane up, they send him right up again. Otherwise he gets chicken," Jack needled.
Gritting his teeth, Harry picked up his bike and mounted it and pedaled off furiously. Within minutes he had made another miscalculation and was flat on his back on the ground once more.
CHAPTER THREE
Jack and Marcia Kimble had planned well. Everything went exactly according to the blueprint. The cloudless first day was pleasantly warm but not scorching, and there was no reason to hurry, so Beth's and Harry's muscles were not overtaxed. Harry thought of how long it had been since he'd had a vacation, and he made a vow he was going to let the business run itself for a couple of weeks, as soon as the summer season was ended, and take Beth off to some quiet, rustic place. He knew he'd been pushing himself too hard, and taking it out on his young wife.
There was a spring-fed pond on the McCullough place, its water clear and icy cold. The two couples changed into swimming suits and disported themselves in the water until they were thoroughly cooled and, with the sun below the mountain ridges, ready to eat heartily. Sometime in years past a stone barbecue had been built, and they fueled it with chunks of dead wood which was easy to gather. They ate ravenously and as dusk came on, they laid out their sleeping bags under the trees, about twenty feet apart. The chill of the mountain night enveloped them as the moon floated over the horizon and suddenly the exertions of the day overtook Beth. She shivered and said to Harry, "Brrrrr! I'm for crawling into the sleeping bag -how about you?"
"Thinking the same," her salesman-husband replied.
"We're going to take a little stroll and let dinner settle down," Marcia said. She and Jack disappeared into the shadows of a pathway through the trees. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry and Beth stripped naked. To Harry, his dark-haired wife looked like a woodland goddess in the moonlight, tall and slender and full breasted, with the dark mass of her hair and the triangle of brunette pubic hair at the juncture of her thighs. Quickly he pulled her into their double sleeping bag and took her in his arms, kissing her urgently, spearing his tongue deep into her mouth.
"Ummmmm . . . " Beth murmured against his hot lips, and pressed her limber body tight to his. She felt his fingers close on her breast, teasing the nipple to elongated hardness and sending ripples of desire through her. Then his hand was moving up between her smooth, sensitive inner thighs, fondling the soft lips of her cunt. She could feel the juices begin to build in her belly, and she rubbed her soft, warm flesh against him. Beth allowed him to guide her hand down to his already hard penis and she squeezed it in a promise of passion to come. She ground her cuntal "vee" up hotly against his massaging fingers and felt the lips of her pussy parting in desire. As he rolled her onto her back and moved to mount her, she heard the Kimbles returning, and pulled away, murmuring in disappointment, "We'll have to wait."
"It better not be long," her husband grumbled.
'They'll probably go right to sleep," she reassured Harry.
They pretended to be asleep themselves, but through narrowed eyelids, the young couple watched Jack and Marcia undress in the moonlight and fondle each other suggestively. Jack had a rigid erection and bent to kiss his blonde wife's alabaster breasts.
Harry was sure the uninhibited Kimbles would be at each other the minute they were in the bedroll, and he wondered why the hell they even got into the thing, with all the open space with its soft grass and concealment of trees and undergrowth available. Hell, fucking in the open air was the best kind. Well, he was sure their sleeping bag would soon look like a cat and dog fight was going on inside it.
Yet nothing happened. They were lying there talking, for chrissakes! He could hear the low murmur of their voices, and occasionally a chuckle and he wondered how any man could lie next to the voluptuously naked Marcia and not plunge his cock right up into her tight little pussy. Well, he supposed that's what happened when you were married too long you took it for granted and lost interest. Damn, he wished they'd go to sleep or fuck themselves to sleep or something, so he could bang Beth. His beautiful brunette wife had her hand wrapped possessively around his penis, but he could tell from the slowing of her breathing that despite herself, she was falling asleep. In his mind he double-damned Jack and Marcia Kimble. In time the frustrated young husband also found his eyes getting heavy and his mind wandering. He was actually on the very edge of oblivion when he vaguely heard the whisper of a zipper and saw the Kimble sleeping bag opening and the two figures sliding out of it, hurrying down toward the grassy banks of the pond that gleamed silver with the combination of moonlight and dew. They passed from view, and then after a moment he heard Marcia's seductive, sultry laugh, and a squeal of pleasure.
He had to see what was going on!
He had not fully zipped up his side of their bedroll, and he eased his long lean body out of it without waking Beth, who was deep asleep now.
Seeking the concealment of trees and shadows, Harry Lansing made for the pond. The mat of wild grasses around it was thick, silencing any sound his bare feet might have made. It was a silvery carpet in the light of the moon which was directly overhead.
What he saw made him blink, and then grin in obscene appreciation. Fascinated, he watched his neighbors for several minutes and came to the conclusion that Marcia was just as hot as she looked, if not better.
This was something Beth had to see maybe it would knock some of the prudishness out of her! As silently as he had come, he returned to his sleeping wife and nudged her awake, covering her mouth with his hand lest she cry out and alert the Kimbles.
"Shhhh! There's something you've got to see."
"Wh . . . what?" the bewildered Beth mumbled.
"You won't believe it. Be quiet, now." Harry took her hand and virtually pulled her to her feet and tugged her along behind him. When they came to the place, Harry motioned Beth to get down and pointed.
Beth looked and her eyes popped!
Jack and Marcia were lying in the soft grass, face to loins, partly on their sides. Marcia's long, slim legs were lewdly splayed open and her husband's face was buried in the soft curling triangle of her pale pubic hair, his long wet tongue sliding like a snake the full length of her dilating pussy as Marcia ground her self up to meet his lewd oral onslaught.
At the same time, the sensuous blonde held her husband's long, meaty cock between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand at the base, aiming it at her obscenely gaping mouth. It glistened wetly with her saliva, and now her pink tongue was darting all around the darker knob, moistening it thoroughly as her lust-swollen lips rained hot wet kisses on it. Her other hand was playing with his cum-laden balls, rolling them between deft fingers.
"Ohhhhh!" Beth whispered as she saw the unbelievable happen. Marcia's glistening lips opened wide to engulf the entire bulbous head of her husband's turgid cock, and her cheeks hollowed as she began to suck. And as she did, inch by tantalizing inch the heavy rod of male flesh disappeared into her wantonly ovaled lips until all but a fraction of an inch of the blood-engorged shaft was buried in her devouring oral cavity. As this happened, Jack Kimble increased the animal fury of his licking at his wife's golden cunt below. To the watching Beth Lansing, it seemed incredible that Marcia could go so far down, and absorb all her husband's cock into her eager mouth. It must be way past her tonsils, she thought why doesn't she choke and gag? She could hardly believe her eyes and murmured, "How can she do it?"
"I told you everybody does it," Harry whispered.
"I mean swallow so much of him." The shock was wearing off now and Beth felt a stirring of voyeuristic excitement in her loins. She knew it was wicked to watch such a lewd spectacle but couldn't tear her eyes away. "How does she breathe?"
"Through her nose, dummy." Harry said with a soft chuckle. "And it looks like she's had a lot of practice. Jack's hinted they have some pretty torrid sessions."
As the oral lovemaking went on and on, Beth got the impression that this happened often and was a source of sensual delight to both, something they liked to prolong. For every few minutes Jack would stop licking his blonde wife's wide-stretched pussy and Marcia would release his captive hardness from her mouth and they'd whisper something, a joke maybe and then return to their languorous game of sixty-nine. Gradually the pace picked up, with Jack's tongue flicking and stabbing deep into the wetly yielding cunt and his hips jerking as he began to fuck hard into Marcia's eager mouth.
"Why the hell doesn't he cum?" Harry mused. "If I had lips like that clamped around my prick
I'd have shot off long ago."
In another time and place, Beth would have been hurt and angered by such a comment, but she was caught up in the turid tableau and found herself wondering the same thing. Then suddenly Marcia was bucking and jerking, her pussy thrusting against the wetly delving tongue, and she lifted her avid lips from the iron-hard cock and cried out softly as her long sleek legs locked tight around her husband's face and they could hear her crying, "More, more, MORE! Oh, Jack, eat meeee! Lick my cunt like crazy!"
Jack Kimble had his strong hands cupping her quivering ass-cheeks now, pulling his wife's gushing pussy tighter and tighter to his face. The liquid sounds of his lips and tongue filled the quiet night air until finally, with a long sigh of relief, Marcia released him from the sweating grasp of her trembling thighs and fell back on the dew-drenched grass, legs wide open, her satiated cunt glistening in the moonlight. Jack's penis was still erect, throbbing wildly with his desire.
Beth Lansing knew what she was doing was immoral, sinful even, but a team of oxen couldn't have dragged her away now. She had to see the ending. It was suddenly vital to her to see her neighbor cum in his wife's mouth, partly for the eroticism of it and partly because Beth was sure that some day soon, she was going to succumb to Harry's greatest desire and fellate him. He'd been wearing her down as dripping water wears away solid rock, and at the same time her own curiosity and obscene desire to experiment had been growing stronger. So far he'd only begged her to kiss the tip, but she knew that once past the soft portal of her pursed lips, Harry would want to explode his semen in her mouth, and she wanted urgently to see if this was a difficult thing for a woman to take.
But she was disappointed, because Jack Kimble had apparently enjoyed as much of Marcia's eager oral cavity as he wanted for the moment. He slapped her playfully on the buttocks and she rolled over, getting up on her hands and knees, spreading herself and bowing her back so the lust-swollen lips of her pussy made a wet, open target. Jack knelt behind her, grasping her voluptuously weaving hips, and positioned the tip of his blood-engorged cock between the curly blonde hairs of the fleshy furrow. With one lunge that almost sent his wife forward on her face, he rammed far up into her impatiently waiting cunt, his balls slapping wetly against her writhing buttocks. Then he was jackhammering in and out of her eager flesh while Marcia chanted her delight. Her pale hair flashing in the moonlight as she tossed her head, she cried out her pleasure. Her pointed breasts swung and jiggled and her beautiful face became a mask of lust as she wildly screwed back to meet the invading cock.
"Uuuuuggghhhh! Aaaahhhhh!" she moaned. "Oh fuck me! Jack . . . Jack . . . FUCK ME UNTIL I DROP!"
Like a pile driver, Jack's cudgel reamed the wetness of his wife's steaming pussy. He hoped and so did Marcia that Beth and Harry were out there lurking wide-eyed in the bushes. Obviously they'd wanted to knock off a little themselves, but had been restrained, afraid of being observed. Or at least Beth would have been. He doubted Harry would give a damn. Jack and Marcia had deliberately prolonged things, staying awake, not giving Harry and Beth a chance to fuck without fear of being observed. So he was damn sure that when they slipped out of their sleeping bag and headed for the pond, that they were followed. Indeed, he was certain he'd seen at least one figure flitting like a goddamn Indian from shadow to shadow.
Jack and Marcia had put in a lot of time on serious discussion of just how far they should go this time. Do everything, or just enough to tease and arouse? They had agreed that too much too soon could be bad. Instead of each taking the other orally in separate sessions, sixty-nine seemed like a better idea, and then a straight fuck, dog-fashion. The notion of sodomy was shelved. Considering Beth's strait-laced small town upbringing, the shock of seeing Marcia turning on as she got screwed in the ass might well send Beth running down the road never to return. They'd bring her to it in time, they assured each other, but it would take a little patience.
Although Jack Kimble prided himself on the length of time he could stay hard in a hot wet cunt, he was getting close to the edge, he knew. Judging from the position of the moon, he'd been fucking Marcia for at least an hour with his tongue and his cock. Even though she was his wife and they were used to each other, there was never any boredom with her feverish body that looked so cool at other times, and now his cock seemed to have needles stinging it as Marcia's vaginal muscles sucked and teased around its rigid length.
"Jeez . . . I can't keep it up!" Jack panted. "I'm going to pop any minute."
"Oooohhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Yessssss!" Marcia groaned in ecstasy. "Fuck me hard! Fill my pussy with your hot cum!"
Violently, grasping the churning buttocks with both powerful hands, Jack pistoned in and out of the clutching cunt, his balls slapping heavy against the widespread thighs that glistened with a mingling of his own saliva and Marcia's sweet, thick cum.
"Now! Now! Oooohhhh . . . Jack . . . I'm cumming again!" Marcia cried out as her loins began spasming wildly, spewing her hot juices, and his plunging cock made it squirt out of her to soak his matted pubic hair.
At the same instant, his penis swelled in the tight wet confines of Marcia's vagina and in great spurts his boiling cum squirted into the depths of her clutching belly. She was writhing in lust, her cuntal muscles milking his rampaging staff as she lifted her head and keened an animal sound of satiation. Slowly, then, the blonde sank to the soft mat of grass and lay hardly moving except for gentle, trembling undulations of her slender body as her burly husband lay atop her, his slowly softening cock still buried to the hilt in her twitching pussy.
As though hypnotized, Harry and Beth remained in their place of concealment even after the other couple rose and departed in the .direction of the camp. Without realizing it, Beth had sometime during the obscene spectacle clasped her husband's cock tight, and only became conscious of the fact when Harry said, "It's our turn now. Anything they can do, we can do better."
"Ohhhh, yes!" Beth said impulsively, but immediately had a second thought. "But Harry if we do, they'll see we're not in the sleeping bag. Maybe they'll sneak down here and spy on us!"
"Right now I don't give a damn," Harry retorted. 'They're back there by now and can see we're off somewhere. Anyway, I expect they're both too fucked out to give a damn what we do. Come on!"
Beth allowed herself to be led to the shore of the pond and thought, This could be it! Harry had said anything the Kimbles could do they could do better. Did that mean he expected her to finally have oral sex? She knew he'd sensed the excitement in her when she unblushingly watched Jack and Marcia in their leisurely sixty-nining.
Damn it! the dark-haired young wife said to herself. She had to end the torture, no matter at what expense to her own psyche. This time she would not resist . . . she would suck her husband's cock, and now the little pink tip of her tongue slithered wetly over her sensuous lips, making them glisten as she sank down on the soft carpet of grass like a maiden being readied for a pagan sacrifice. She fully expected Harry to lie in the opposite direction and guide her unresisting mouth to the burgeoning head of his cock, and she was fully resigned to compliance. The thought of his long hot tongue burrowing into her fleshy cuntal furrow was another shocker, but the act had obviously given Marcia so much lewd pleasure that Beth was looking forward to it with a tingle of guilt-ridden excitement.
Harry was standing over her, then kneeling, lowering himself to the grass.
And with almost a twinge of disappointment, she saw he wasn't going to do it after all! Damn, now that she'd worked up her courage and released her hidden desires for oral sex, Harry was reading her all wrong. He was bending over her, kissing her soft moist lips as he always had, slipping his tongue into the saliva-filled cavern of her mouth while his strong fingers played with her breasts and stroked the smooth softness of her belly and then moved lower, his fingers parting the pulsing edges of her pussy to manipulate her throbbing clitoris. Ardently, Beth returned his caresses, fondling his cum-inflated testicles and slowly pumping the loose foreskin up and down his desire-swollen penis.
Oh hell, Beth thought miserably. Here I am all built up for it and for once he doesn't try. She debated in her mind whether to make some sort of overture herself. But how? Whisper the lewd suggestion in his ear? Kiss him teasingly and gradually work her way down his lean body until her avid mouth was so close to his loins that his hand would come down on the back of her head and try to guide her mouth to his cock and this time find only token resistance or none at all.
Beth realized she was not that bold yet, and that the way she'd bitten Harry before had effectively discouraged him. A hell of a note! When he wanted to, she'd fought like a tigress to preserve her morals and self-respect. Now that she was aroused and wanted him in her mouth, he was afraid to try, and she was too shy. Damned communications gap!
But then her troubled thoughts vanished as Harry rolled on top of her, his hands closing hard on her breasts, squeezing them. Beth let her legs fall open and deftly guided his rock-hard penis to the wetly flowering lips of her cunt, rubbing it up and down the silken-fringed slit, stimulating her already aroused clitoris. Finally, she led it to the entrance to her cuntal passage and thrust upward. Her legs clamped tight around her husband's back as, with one powerful lunge, he slammed into her soft, supple flesh, making it ripple and roll ahead of the bluntly plundering head of his male flesh. His balls smacked wetly on her wantonly spread ass-cheeks, and Beth groaned a sigh of satisfaction and desire as the long, blood-swollen penis began to rip and plunge into her spasming young pussy.
Overhead, the moon was so bright it almost hurt her eyes. Harry's muscular chest was flattening her up-thrust breasts, making her sensation-stiffened nipples tingle. She gave herself willingly to animal lust, fucking up to meet each driving stroke, feeling her moist inner flesh being drawn through the ragged lips of her pussy on each out-stroke, then jammed back deep inside her straining loins as Harry lunged furiously into her writhing, wanting body.
Beth found that her voyeurism had heightened her feelings of sensuality. She could never remember a fuck that was as arousing as this one, and she found herself clawing Harry's heaving back, her heels drumming on his hard-muscled buttocks, urging him on to greater efforts. She bit his shoulders and passionately kissed him, time after time, sucking his swirling tongue as if it were a little prick invading her passionate mouth, and she chanted a litany of lust.
"Oooooohhh . . . Harry . . . so gooooddd! Do it to me, darling, harder . . . harder . . . way up in my pussy . . . Ooooohh . . . fuck me! FUCK MEEEEE!"
Never before had the writhing, thrashing young brunette used that lewd word, even in their most passion-driven moments, but now it slipped from her slavering lip's unbidden the only word which expressed what she needed more than anything. Harry was panting with each wild, lunging impalement of his wife's sweating body, and Beth's clitoris was tingling like an electric current was passing through it.
"I'm cuuummmingg!" she cried out, feeling his lust-bloated rod of male flesh surge deep in her twitching, grinding belly. Then, remembering the humiliating but highly effective position Harry had forced her into when he was punishing her, Beth unlocked her tightly clamped legs from his back and drew them up until her smooth knees framed her lust-contorted face. She arched her back up off the grass, offering the wide-open plane of her loins to the plundering cock and YES! It was going deeper into her yearning pussy this way, the head slamming wildly against the mouth of her womb as his balls slapped against the drum-tight cheeks of her lewdly splayed buttocks. Her head rolling from side to side, dark hair spraying out over the damp grass, Beth felt the mounting tide of orgasm sweep through her, the hot flowing of her cuntal juice soaking their tightly joined genitals. "Eeeeeyyyaaahhh!"
It was so wantonly wild, so beautiful. And Harry wasn't done yet. He continued to fuck his passionate wife, loving the way she rolled her smoothly rounded buttocks and how her cum-slick pussy grabbed his cock and refused to let it go. Beth lost track of the orgasms . . . it seemed to be just one continuous eruption in her spasming loins until finally Harry's cock swelled and hardened, the pistoning head ballooning, stretching her tender pussy to the utmost, and then came the sweet hot flood of his semen squirting into her welcoming belly like water from a high-pressure fire hose. Moaning her lewd pleasure, Beth again locked her long, sweat-gleaming legs around Harry and held him prisoner until she could no longer feel his softened organ in her satiated cunt.
"Wild . . . far out!" Harry panted, holding her nakedly trembling body tight. "You came like Niagara!" He chuckled softly as she released him, and he rolled from her sweating body and said, "If you're this hot all the time, I don't care if you never go down on me."
As she rose from the matted grass in an almost inaudible whisper, Beth said, "You should have asked me."
"What?" Harry asked. He had heard only a mumble.
"Oh, nothing," Beth said. She ran her fingers over the full length of her satiated body. Every tiny nerve seemed to be on end, and she could smell the rich scent of their sex despite the woods smells. Strings of whitish cum were trailing from her pussy down the inside of her legs, and her thighs were sticky with it. She said, "We can't go back this way. We've got to wash a little."
"That's ice water, but you're right," he agreed.
Hand in hand, they waded into the shallow pond, goose bumps instantly covering their superheated flesh. Beth couldn't resist squealing as Harry splashed her, and she returned the favor, and soon they were bowling each other over, laughing and freezing at the same time, and it was likely that no living creature within a mile remained asleep. Certainly Jack and Marcia Kimble were not asleep. They had doubled back and watched everything, smiling at their evident progress. Beth was obviously losing her inhibitions. They hurried back to their sleeping bag and were sitting up in it when Beth and Harry came up the path, their naked bodies glistening with droplets of water. Exhilarated, Beth made no effort to hide her milk-white nakedness, something she would have made haste to do only a couple of hours earlier.
But, being out on this beautiful night, so close to nature, having furtively watched the lurid coupling of Jack and Marcia and then wildly fucking with Harry, had broken another bond, and the lovely long-legged girl felt no embarrassment as she strolled to her sleeping bag and lit cigarettes for herself and Harry.
"We thought," Jack Kimble said with a grin, "that somebody was killing tigers from the sounds."
"Midnight swim . . . ohhh, chilly!" Beth said, blowing smoke from her nostrils. She was aware of the way Jack's eyes were appraising her statuesque body, lingering on the full thrust of her naked breasts, the wetly tangled mass of dark pubic hair and the curvaceous taper of her legs. Wantonly, she found it flattering rather than disturbing, and even his knowing grin at her reply didn't disturb her in the slightest. The two couples chatted as the cigarettes burned down and the night air dried them, and then they said good night as Beth and Harry slipped into their sleeping bag.
Harry snuggled close and said with a chuckle, "Jack won't be able to close his eyes the rest of the night."
"Oh?" Beth said, not comprehending.
"They popped too far out of his head when he got a look at you."
"I I don't know why we didn't sneak the long way around through the bushes but I'm sort of glad we didn't. Do you mind him seeing me like that?"
"It would have been worse if you'd tried to cover yourself."
"I suppose," Beth agreed. She lay back as his hand moved to the juncture of her thighs and cupped her still-tingling pussy. She looked up at the stars and moon and said, "It must be the full moon. It does things to people, you know. Tonight I was a real wanton."
"I know," her husband said. "I enjoyed."
Harry fell silent then, pondering her words. Beth had never referred to herself as wanton before. Was there a hidden meaning there, he wondered. Was she unconsciously hinting that -if he had urged her she might have given him her mouth? Damn, he wished he'd tried. Looking back, it seemed Beth had been ready for just about anything.
Well, it was too late now, and the dawning sun would no doubt cleanse the wanton thoughts from her mind. Damn, he must make it a point to bring her up here again. On the next full moon. Alone.
* * *
For some weeks, events continued in a way which pleased Jack and Marcia Kimble, although the cat and mouse game, the waiting was getting on Marcia's nerves. It was her option that Beth and Harry were ready for initiation into the delights of swapping, but her husband still cautioned patience. Much of her eagerness came from the fact that she was now in close daily contact with Beth Kimble. They shopped together, visited back and forth, rode their bikes, and in general, could count on spending several hours a day in each other's company.
Marcia was afraid that such closeness would eventually make Beth tire of her, but it didn't seem to. Although Beth had many acquaintances in her own age group, she had few close friends, as most were tied down with small children and household chores and it was rare for them to be able to get away even for a lunch in Indian Springs. So Beth was glad to have a vivacious neighbor to help fill the hours which had been so boring.
Jack had no such problem with Harry, as their separate business interests took care of all the time they had and more, and except for banking, the two hardly saw each other unless the couples got together for cocktails before dinner at one house or the other.
The spare tire quickly disappeared from Harry's waist as he religiously rode his bike at least an hour a day. He was pleased with his new endurance and muscle tone.
The bikes filled their once dull weekends. Twice they went riding with the Lansings, and twice with the club, venturing farther each time. On one occasion they rode over a hundred miles to a national park where a panel truck had preceded them, and a full-fledged barbecue was held high in the redwoods. Some forty couples turned out for that one.
Beth found sex getting better and better the rigorous exercise seemed to increase her appetite for it, and she discovered it was taken for granted that the couples, married and otherwise would indulge themselves on the trips according to their inclinations, seeking out secluded glades sometimes several couples in a group, she noted at first with dismay and then tolerance and nobody made anything of it. There were no smirks or ribald remarks or obscene speculations. It was just a natural thing.
Beth and Harry did their full share, but Harry never tried to get her to fellate him, and the lovely brunette housewife likewise never had the almost uncontrollable urge to suck his long hot penis into her mouth again.
Ironically, when the dramatic change in their lives came, it was not on a bike trip but next door to their home, at the Kimble place.
It was a three-day holiday weekend, and the two couples had agreed it would be suicide to ride with all the traffic that would be on the highways. It wouldn't even be worthwhile to get in the Kimble Cadillac and drive over the mountains to the shore, as the beaches would surely be out of sight under the press of humanity. So they decided to stay at home and hold a party for the duration.
Jack and Harry both had the twitches by the time they arrived, which was after eight o'clock. This was a result of Harry's end-of-summer burst of selling. He had wanted to clear the lot of as many camping trailers, motorcycles, boats and whatever else could be moved as possible, for with the vacation period over, sales were bound to drop off, and he didn't want to be stuck with a lot of units through the slow fall and winter months. It cost him money each day they sat there, as he had to pay bank interest, and also it was necessary to make room for next year's models.
The response to his advertising surprised even him, and for four days he'd spent a lot of time driving between the lot and the bank, sheaves of sales contracts in his briefcase. A lot of money was involved, but also each sale required numerous forms, and the two men found themselves bleary-eyed from the paperwork.
After showering and changing to sports clothes, Harry went over to the Kimbles where Beth was waiting, a vodka martini in her hand. She looked good enough to eat with her dark hair tied back with a yellow ribbon, her firm, wide-set breasts thrusting invitingly at the thin fabric of her bolero blouse, the little nipple points sharply outlined. She wore skin-tight hot-pants that were cut so daringly that it showed the contours of her pussy and some of the softly curling dark hairs which fringed it. Marcia was dressed almost as daringly in a micro-mini that was to Harry's lewdly gazing eyes, as flimsy as gauze. She greeted him warmly and thrust a drink into his hand as Jack, a bourbon and water in hand, came from the house to join them.
On an electric rotisserie, a seven-rib roast of prime beef was slowly turning, sizzling, filling the air with its hunger-inducing aroma. Potatoes wrapped in foil were ready to be buried in the ashes of an oak wood fire. The woman had tossed a massive green salad and a clear bouillon soup was chilling in the refrigerator.
"When will you want to eat?" Marcia asked.
"Eat, hell," Jack exclaimed. "Midnight sounds good. Right now, we're gonna get snockered. Harry and I have about gone fruity the last four days. You'll be rich widows. Jesus, what a load of paper we handled!"
"The goddamned lot is barren," Harry put in. "Christ, we've been too busy to even fuck!"
Beth blushed but suddenly realized it was true! For almost a week her husband had tumbled into bed, exhausted at the end of a twelve hour business day. His arms had gone around her as always when she got into bed, but by the time she was comfortably snuggled up to his big body, he was snoring. Marcia only chuckled with a promise of making up for lost sex.
The night darkened, and tiring of going to the house for liquor, Jack trundled bottles and otheringredients out on a cart and parked it by the edge of the pool. The mood became more and more jovial, and lying on the air mattresses, what little formality remained between the couples dissipated. Beth, who was not much of a drinker, began to feel light-headed, and she was hardly shocked when she looked up to see Harry bending over Marcia and bringing his open mouth down on hers. Their lips pressed tight and worked on each other, and one of Harry's hands was now cupping Marcia's breast, squeezing it.
"Hey, how about that?" Jack said softly into her ear. His hand dropped to her leg and slowly began to rub upward toward her belly, but Beth found herself strangely undisturbed and didn't move to stop him. "Think they've got something going?"
"Looks that way," Beth giggled and said with alcoholic wisdom, "Suppose we're the last to know?"
"Sauce for the goose," Jack said and kissed her. Beth parted her lips, drew his spearing tongue deep into her mouth and lay back, her hands running through Jack's curly dark hair. She could feel the animal strength of the man, and a surge of wanton desire wracked her loins. Damn it, it had been almost a week. Well, she'd fix that as soon as she was alone with Harry. Let Marcia get him hot she was taking him home!
Now she moaned with mounting desire under the skilled mouth of Jack Kimble. She felt his hand slide upward under the bottom of her bolero and begin to fondle her breasts, tweaking the nipples to hardness, rolling the resilient mounds in his powerful fingers. Against her quaking belly she felt the rigidity of his male member and couldn't resist reaching for it and grasping the throbbing length through his thin summer slacks. God! If anything, if felt thicker than Harry's! Into her mind's eye flashed the memory of Jack and Marcia lying by the pond and Marcia wildly swallowing all of it and moaning in delight. How did she ever manage?
"Take it out if you want," Jack whispered against her soft mouth. "Hold it."
"Oooohhh . . . Nooooo . . . " Beth mumbled. A few kisses and letting him touch her breasts was one thing. But to grasp his bare penis in her trembling fingers was definitely another. Yet she barely resisted when his hand came down, and she heard the soft whisper of his zipper. He guided her hand inside and pressed it around the length of his rigid cock. Beth wanted to jerk her hand back out, but the magnetism was too strong. She found herself slowly pumping his hardening cock as he kissed her and then drew her bolero's loose neckline low, baring her left breast, and his hot mouth closed on the tender bud of her nipple and began to suck as his teeth teased it lightly. A few feet away she could see the sprawled figures of Harry and Marcia. Now Marcia's brief dress was pushed up over her hips, and Harry's fingers were stroking at her pussy, working in and out of the fleshy blonde-curled flesh in a teasing, seductive way. Marcia's bikini panties were pulled low on her hips, and her loins undulated lewdly up on Harry's bold searching fingers. The blonde's eyes were closed, and there was a rapturous smile on her lust-swollen lips as slowly she reached down and peeled her panties completely off, parting her long slender legs.
My God! Beth thought with dismay. He's going to fuck her! My husband is going to fuck Jack's wife, and both of us right here, close enough to touch them! She knew she should jump up and stop the obscene spectacle, but her amazement at their boldness froze her like a statue as she saw Harry's middle finger disappear into the soft folds of Marcia's lubricious cunt and begin to fuck in and out of its hot, moist depths. Beth was too shocked to be angry, and the alcohol had dulled her senses, and now Jack was kissing her mouth again while his hand pried her trembling legs apart and tried to force the barrier of her hot-pants. But they were too tight a fit, and he contented himself with rubbing her aching pussy with the thin cloth separating his fingers from her steaming cuntal flesh. From the corner of her eye, Beth watched the others, wondering how much time would pass before Harry rolled over onto the groaning blonde and rammed his cock into her readily receptive pussy.
Suddenly, Marcia gasped and trembled, her body jerking wildly as she rode her neighbor's plunging middle finger. She cried out softly, her head rolling from side to side, and then fell weakly back on the air mattress, spent. Beth saw Harry put his mouth against the blonde's ear and whisper something that made her languidly shake her head. Scowling, he withdrew his finger from her body and lay on his back beside her, his cock showing long and thick through his slacks. Marcia herself broke the tension a few minutes later.
"Hey, I'm getting ravenous. I'm going to put the spuds in the ashes and in about two more drinks, everything will be ready."
She sprang to her feet, not bothering to retrieve her panties, and busied herself at the barbecue. Beth, relieved that she wouldn't have to make a scene, disentangled herself from Jack, pushed his rock-hard cock back into his pants and zipped them closed. She could still sense the throbbing rigidity of his penis in her hand and wondered what she would have done if Harry had actually screwed Marcia right in front of her. Screamed and attacked them? Silently suffered the humiliation? Or given tit-for-tat and peeled off her hot-pants, welcoming Marcia's own husband into her own seething cunt?
Well, the crisis was past. She reasoned that, as close as the couples had been lately, it was a wonder that something like this hadn't happened before. She could surely write part of it off to what they'd had to drink. And maybe, Beth rationalized, it was just as well that it had happened in these circumstances. Certainly it would be easy enough for Harry and Marcia to make an assignation at some discreet motel any time they wanted. But this episode so open made sneaking around unlikely, the dark-haired beauty concluded. So she would say nothing, make no scene. She wanted another drink, a good strong one this time.
Three drinks went by before the sumptuous meal was ready, the prime rib carved, thick, blood rare. The beef almost melted in her mouth no restaurant could have served it in these days of the beef shortage, and she commented on it.
"A rancher is trying to swing a million dollar loan to tide himself over until prices go up," Jack Kimble explained with a wink. "He thought I might appreciate some beef more than a box of cigars."
They shamelessly stuffed themselves, and then the liqueurs and cognacs were brought into play. Like a big cat, Beth Lansing found herself drowsing as midnight passed, and she reclined on the mattresses, watching the trajectory of moon and stars as the others talked. Gradually, their voices seemed to draw farther and farther away, and she fell asleep.
Some time later, she mumbled a protest as she felt hands caressing her, lips hot and wet on the up-thrust mounds of her proud breasts. Drowsily she responded, her hands slowly moving to caress Harry's head. And then she realized it wasn't Harry! Jack Kimble was looming over her, his tongue flicking her nipples to hardness, stirring sensual desire in her loins. Gradually, the events of the night came back to her sleep-befuddled brain, and she tried to rise, but his strong hands were holding her down, and now his wet mouth was on hers, his tongue slithering between her lips. For a minute, Beth tried to fight off her rising desire, but she yielded and returned his kiss with ardor. She writhed, and her entire body undulated like a restless sea, and when she heard the soft buzz of his zipper, she found her hand moving to his loins, and this time she took his lust-swollen penis out and shamelessly stroked it, running the thick foreskin up and down as his hands kneaded the springy mounds of her breasts, bringing them together and twisting them so one nipple rubbed the other.
"Ooooohhh . . . Jack!" she cried out softly as her hand slid down the full length of his pulsating rod of flesh. In a moment of complete abandonment, Beth knew that if he moved to draw her hot-pants down the quivering length of her restlessly moving legs, she wouldn't try to stop him. She'd help him! But he was taking his time, slowly building the uncontrollable desire in her awakening body until Beth was sure that she would cum furiously the minute the bulbous head of the thick cock she was teasing wantonly with her groping fingers entered her lubricious vagina.
Oh, God! How she wanted it! But Harry mustn't know . . . never! She twisted her head and looked around the moonlit grounds and saw no sign of her husband or Marcia!
"Where are they?" the aroused brunette whispered urgently.
"I think they went into the house . . . yeah, the light's on in the big bedroom. They're busy."
The factual, cool way he replied shocked Beth; she blurted, "And you don't care?"
"Not as long as I'm with you, Beth," he said calmly. "This has been building a long time. Might as well get it out of our systems."
"Oh, Christ!" Beth said. "I don't believe it!"
"Well, let's go see, then," he suggested. He helped the leggy young near-bride up, and cautioning her to silence, they made their way barefoot into the huge house and up to the second floor.
The door to the whorehouse-styled bedroom was wide open, and a soft pink light from the chandelier illuminated the scene.
Marcia Kimble reclined on the oversized bed, her buttocks resting on a fat pillow that raised her loins a foot from the bed. Between her sleek thighs Harry Lansing knelt. His thumbs spread the soft lips of the thrashing blonde's pussy wide, baring the coral-hued inner flesh that glistened with the dew of Marcia's vaginal secretions. As the shocked Beth watched, her husband's long red tongue lashed out and flickered up and down the length of the obscenely exposed cuntal furrow and twirled around the button of Marcia's swollen clitoris while the taffy-haired woman groaned in desire.
Then Harry's face dipped closer, and his ravenous mouth closed on her dripping pussy, and his sucking and licking sounds filled the room while Marcia moaned and thrashed, rolling her smooth buttock cheeks on the scarlet pillow. She began to ram her mound up to the delving face of the dark-haired man, and her hands came down to grasp his head, fingers clutching his hair like talons. Her eyes were open and rolling in her head, and suddenly, she screamed through her passion-swollen mouth as she began to cum. The taste of her juices only drove Harry on to more obscene licking and sucking. Her long legs swung up and over his shoulders, holding his cum-glistening face tight as wave after wave of orgiastic pleasure rolled through Marcia's tensely bucking body.
Stunned, Beth could only stare for what seemed like eternity. Then she whirled and ran silently down the carpeted hall, tears welling in her eyes as she whimpered, "Oooooh! My God"
Close behind her came Jack Kimble. He was proud of Marcia. She had done everything exactly as they had so carefully planned.
Now it was his turn.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tears streaming from her eyes, the stunned young housewife stumbled blindly through the maze of rooms in the big house. She could only think of getting away from this perverted obscenity. It wouldn't have been so bad if she'd caught Harry screwing Marcia Kimble . . . Beth had subconsciously accepted that it would happen sooner or later, and the scene by the pool that night had confirmed her fears. That wouldn't have shaken her so. But to see her husband ravenously sucking and licking their neighbor's gushing cunt with its fringe of soft, wheat-colored curls had been traumatic.
Her hair flowing behind her, Beth took a couple of wrong turns and suddenly found herself in the basement rumpus room, and she realized Jack Kimble was right behind her. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, making her face him. Tears rolled wetly down her cheeks and Beth was sobbing.
"Seeing something like that makes you flip?" he said gruffly.
"But Jack . . . " Beth began to protest. "I know we all we all fooled around a little tonight. But I didn't think it would lead to that! Uuuugh!"
"Oh, for Chrissakes," the stocky banker said, and steered her to the small bar, where he poured generous amounts of cognac into snifter glasses and then led her to a long, low sofa which had been retired from duty in the formal rooms of the house. He sat and drew the sniffling young wife down beside him and tried to put across the next line of the script he and Marcia had so carefully worked out. It must carry just the right mixture of compassion and rebuke. He went on, "Beth, a lot of the blame is yours. Oh, I'm not making excuses for Harry, but when you won't give him something he wants very much, and as your husband has a right to expect you'll at least try it to please him, then I can understand how he'd go to another woman."
"But she's your wife!" Beth said, stunned that Jack wasn't enraged and seemed to be treating the matter so lightly. She gulped the cognac and felt it burn her throat. "Don't you care? "
"Beth, Marcia and I have been married a lot longer than you and Harry. Neither of us would give up the other for anyone else. But we both discovered we needed variety, to add spice to our sex lives together. We know some other couples who feel the same. Sometimes they come to our house, or we go to theirs, and everything works out nicely. No sneaking around to motels or grabbing at quick, furtive matinees. We always go as a couple and there's no jealousy. No recriminations. And when we get home, we're wild for each other."
"You're swappers!" Beth whispered, stunned at the truth.
"Pretty girl, I know it's a shock, but life is better when you share. For instance, think how dull your weekends were before you took up biking. Same thing. Saturday mow the lawn and keep Harry stoked with beer. Sunday, a lonesome picnic. True or not?"
"I I suppose you're right, as far as that goes, but this is a different bag," Beth protested. "My God! To think of Harry licking between Marcia's legs like an animal! Ooooooohhhh! I'd like to claw both of them to shreds."
"But you were getting pretty warm with me out by the pool," Jack Kimble reminded Beth. "Tell the truth If I'd tried, I could have fucked you, couldn't I?"
Suddenly Beth realized that the drawstring of her bolero neckline had loosened and the flimsy garment had slipped down, completely baring her young, pointed breasts. Now Harry put his hand on the right one and began to massage it and instead of trying to stop him, Beth felt the fires flaring in her belly again and abjectly nodded, admitting to the charge.
"A lot of this is really your fault," Jack Kimble went on smoothly in his soft voice. "You wouldn't go down on Harry . . . you wouldn't let him do it to you. He's a hell of a virile guy, the kind of man who needs variety in his sex life. It isn't enough just to be beautiful and a good straight fuck, honey."
"He, he told you things like that?" Beth mumbled, unbelieving.
"Men compare notes just like you women. The air vent at the bank runs between the men's and women's toilets, and you should hear some of the adventures our demure little tellers and typists pass around. I've heard some things that made even me blink, and I don't blink easily."
"Oh, Jesus," Beth moaned, her lower lip trembling. She was about to start crying again, but Jack's slick mouth came down on hers and the darting of his tongue between her teeth diverted her attention. Hungrily she clasped him to her, fitting her slender body to his stocky, muscular one and she no longer cared what happened. This time she took the initiative in opening his slacks and finding his ready spear of flesh. She felt his hand fumbling with the zipper at the side of her hotpants and put her own over it to stop him, but she gave his hand a little squeeze that told him it would be all right in a few minutes. She murmured, "Wait, Jack I want you to understand everything."
Taking a generous sip of cognac, the aroused brunette nervously began to recount the most intimate details of her sex life with Harry. She didn't spare herself, and even to her own ears she sounded cold and prudish. She told him of almost kissing the beckoning head of her husband's cock and then chickening out. And later, while he was asleep, building up her courage and actually taking his flaccid member between her hesitant lips, only to be pushed away when Harry acted by reflex. She admitted spying on Jack and Marcia by the pond, and how it had thrilled her.
"That's when you should have done it," Jack advised.
"I I know." Beth felt herself blushing. "But I was afraid you and Marcia might have been in the bushes watching, the way we had. At that point in time, I didn't care if you caught us fucking.. . it would have been a sort of turnabout is fair play thing. But to get caught . . . "
"With the meat in your mouth, so to speak?" Jack asked with a grin that was lewd and humor-filled at the same time.
"To put it bluntly, yes!" Beth admitted, feeling the blood pulsing in her cheeks.
"Well, now that things have reached this point, what do you think? How do you feel about it all?"
"I'm hurt and I'm damn well furious, no matter how smooth your arguments are, Jack. I admit you're mostly right, but I'm still damn mad. It's adultery, and I'd like to beat Harry's ears in!"
"That wouldn't do much good. It wouldn't purge you, Beth. Revenge in kind is the only thing that will do the job."
"Wh . . . what . . . ? " she mumbled, not completely understanding.
Harry's fingers zipped her shorts open and he moved away. Her arms were reluctant to release his male power. Beth's full breasts rose and fell in anticipation. No man but Harry had ever fucked her. Well, that was about to come to a screeching halt. She was suddenly eager.
"Take off your clothes . . . everything," Jack commanded.
Feeling a new brazenness come over her, seeing his thick cock jutting straight out from his pants, Beth complied. She stood and pulled the bolero shirt up over her head and then quickly bent to shed the skintight hot pants. With a surge of wantonness, she caressed the lush contours of her splendid body, running the tips of her fingers lewdly over the "vee" of her pubic mound, twirling the soft curly dark hairs. Then she cupped the rich, resilient mounds of her breasts with their coral-tinted nipples. She trembled in anticipation and the pink tip of her tongue wet her wide, full, passionate mouth. She lifted her arms and tossed her hair, freeing it in a dark shower that sprayed nearly to her waist.
"Now undress me," Jack ordered in his persuasive voice. But he made no move to rise from the soft sofa, and Beth was forced to kneel before him. With shaking fingers, she unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it from his brawny shoulders and cast it aside. Feigning a boldness she didn't feel the aroused young wife fumbled with his belt and got his slacks open. He lifted his legs so she could remove the trousers, and afterwards, his jockey shorts.
Jack made no move toward her. Instead, he lay back on the worn leather cushions, his legs spread obscenely open. So close up in the soft light, Beth gasped when she saw the true size of his penis. It looked like a full stick of Italian salami with the whitish covering stripped back and the bulbous head was tinted almost the same color as salami. It was aimed at her like a cannon. Trembling, she moved to straddle him as she had Harry that night, but firmly he pushed her back to her knees.
"That wouldn't be revenge in kind," Jack said firmly. "You can get fucked any time you want by just about anybody you pick. You have to give Harry a taste of his own medicine."
"Oooooooh . . . please . . . nooooooo!" Beth murmured, but she couldn't take her fascinated dark eyes from the pulsing rod of male flesh. She closed her eyelids tight but the vision was burned into her brain. The long, smooth thickly veined shaft emerging from the dark mass of curling pubic hair, and below it the football-shaped testicles in their hairy sac of wrinkled prune-skin. "Oh, Jack, I I I . . . " she stammered.
"Think it over, Beth," he said coolly. "You told me how much you've been wanting to do it. With me it will be an impersonal thing that will give us both pleasure. You'll have your revenge, and you might find you like it very much." He took her hand and put it on his penis just below the lust-swollen head and made her squeeze. A tiny pearl-like bead of pre-seminal fluid appeared at the hole in the tip. Furiously Beth was debating within herself as he ordered, "Kiss and lick first, honey."
Half-hypnotized by his melodious voice and the pulsating cock, Beth found herself crawling up between his legs, her head slowly lowering. She saw her mass of dark hair spreading over his muscular thighs, and then there was nothing in her field of vision except the lust-swollen cock-head and the blood-engorged shaft in her lewdly clutching fingers. Several times she worked the loose foreskin over the reddish-purple knob as her tongue nervously slithered back and forth across the full richness of her parted lips.
Beth could no longer control herself. With a sigh of surrender she lightly brought her mouth down on the mushroom-shaped tip, wetly kissing it. It was so huge! Her jaw was certainly going to be dislocated she could never get it into her salivating mouth even though now an overwhelming urge to do just that was roaring through her subserviently kneeling body.
Experimenting, she flicked the searching tip of her tongue into her pearl of milk-white fluid. It had an erotically arousing tang to it and unconsciously she hummed her surprise and pleasure. Pursing her moist, soft lips into a gentle "O", she parted them wide enough to admit half the bulbous head, and began to lick it with the flat of her tongue. Each wet sweep made her want to taste more of him, and straining, she got her adventuring mouth wide enough to engulf the entire warm, rubbery head.
"Oooooh, nice . . . you've got a mouth soft as hot butter," Jack whispered.
Beth raised her head and, as if it was very important, said seriously, "I've never done this before. Really I haven't. I don't know what to do next. Just suck?"
"Oh, lots more than that," Jack Kimble said with a lewd smile. "I'll coach you, but I don't think you'll need much of that. Now, hold it by the base and lick all around the ridge with the tip of your tongue, like it was an ice-cream cone. Then tongue just below the head on the underside. That's the corona, very sensitive. Make like butterfly wings with your tongue all the way down to the base and over my balls. Then back up, nibbling like an ear of corn. Then you'll be ready to drive me wild. Go that far and I won't have to tell you anything else."
"Do I suck hard, or.. . " the aroused brunette murmured.
"Lightly . . . very lightly, until the very end."
The very end, Beth thought. When you cum in my mouth!
Slowly she began to follow the erotic stages her experienced partner had laid down for her. It was like licking an ice cream cone! Only no ice cream cone had ever been so warm and throbbing as this beautiful cock. At first she kept her eyes shut tight, ashamed to look at Jack's lewdly grinning face, but gradually Beth's inhibitions left her and she found herself dexterously applying her tongue to the pulsating member. She thrilled as she felt him jerk when the wet darting tip of her tongue first came in contact with the supersensitive corona. Then she opened her eyes. The expression of rapture on Jack Kimble's face was something to see!
Tongue swirling wetly, her passion-swollen lips inched down the underside of his cock until she was nuzzling his semen-loaded balls. Without being told, she drew first one and then the other into her now avid mouth and rolled her tongue over them. The male scent of his loins was heady in her flaring nostrils.
Becoming more and more wantonly aroused by the minute, the kneeling girl progressed at a tantalizingly slow pace, now wanting to prolong this sex play until she reached a point where she absolutely had to have the thick length of his penis jammed deep into her virgin mouth. Slavishly she licked and kissed and nibbled and then she could stand it no longer. She squeezed the blood-engorged member tightly. Her dark head dipped and suddenly the cock-head was forced deep beyond her straining lips.
"Ummmmmmmmmmm . . . " Beth moaned, trying to breathe through her nostrils and almost choking. It seemed her mouth was filled to bursting with her neighbor's rock-hard male flesh. Yet she could see inches of it still protruding from her lust-twisted lips. She suddenly had to have all of it! With a groan of desire she worked her head from side to side, trying to get more and more of the delicious penis into the saliva-filled cavity of her yearning mouth. It was pressing against the back of her mouth now and she sucked tentatively. The outline of the fleshy rod was sharp against her in-drawn cheeks. In measured rhythm, Beth began to bob her head up and down over Jack's trembling loins, her tongue swirling around the bulbous head and thick shaft. Her mouth and throat muscles began to relax, accepting the tree-like intrusion. Harder and harder she drove her wild mouth up and down until finally, with a supreme effort, she felt the smooth rubbery head surge past her tonsils and deep into her throat. Her nose was deep in Jack's pubic hair. For a minute she remained immobile, savoring her triumph. "Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
Beth was sure she'd gag and choke but somehow she didn't. She had never felt anything quite like having her mouth and throat stuffed with this lust-hardened cock. Slowly, her mouth contorted by the massiveness of it, she began to work her lips up and down. She experimented with her tongue, finding new and different ways to eagerly devour the deliciously hot penis. In the distance, above her head, she could hear Jack groaning with pleasure.
Her dark hair flying with the wild bobbing of her head, Beth Lansing lost track of time. Her entire world was the penis in her avid lips, and now she was squeezing the cum-laden balls so hard that Jack had to plead with her to be more gentle. Then she was aware of an incredible further hardening and swelling of the deeply embedded shaft of maleness and it began to jerk.
At that instant Jack cried out and his hands were on her head, pulling it up until little more than the bulbous head remained in her obscenely sucking lips as his hot cum began to squirt and gush, splashing against the roof of her mouth, then pouring in a steaming hot sweet stream down her convulsing throat to form a warm liquid pool in her heaving belly. Beth sucked furiously and swallowed in great gulps as droplets of the thick whitish fluid escaped the corners of her tightly compressed lips. She groaned in ecstasy as she drank down her hard-earned reward, wondering if he'd ever stop cumming. But eventually she drained his thrusting loins. Tenderly she began to lick his rod of flesh clean, not wanting to lose a single delicious drop of the life-giving semen. Finally there was just no more and with a sigh of regret she released the now limp organ and straightened up, still remaining on her knees. Her passion-swollen lips glistened silver with his cum and she slowly licked them with her weary tongue. The richness of his massive ejaculation lingered in her mouth. She fell forward weakly as Jack pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her, exploring her hot mouth with his tongue while his hand roved over her sweating buttocks.
"My God!" he breathed. "I've never run into talent like that even Marcia, and I thought she was the best."
"I guess I've been missing a lot," Beth replied, almost shyly. She felt hardly a twinge of guilt and was actually glad it had happened the first time with Jack Kimble. Suppose she had yielded to Harry first and instead of it being a lewd, wanton delight it had been a complete fiasco? It would just have been another barrier between them. A failure with Jack wouldn't have mattered. But now Beth knew she was free to give her husband the kind of loving he wanted. "It was beautiful, Jack!"
"You should have been on my end," he quipped. "Did you cum?"
"Me? I didn't know I could that way. And I was pretty busy . . . too busy to think of myself."
"You'll find ir happens," he forecast. "Still mad at Harry?"
"I don't care if Harry eats Marcia to the bone," Beth said with a wicked chuckle. "How about another cognac? And then maybe we can find a bedroom, although I guess there's not much left of the night."
* * *
Unknown to Beth, her husband and Marcia had exhausted each other and gone exploring through the rambling split-level. He had no idea where Beth and Jack might be, and now that his lust was expended, he began to feel nervous. What if for some reason they'd come to the upper floor and Beth got a glimpse of him eating Marcia's pale-tufted pussy. Wow! The shit would hit the fan and he'd be standing in front of it. No, it couldn't have happened, he reassured himself. Beth was ordinarily subservient to his wishes, but on some occasions he'd seen her turn into a wildcat, and a session like he'd just been through with the oversexed blonde would qualify as just such an event.
Naked, he and Marcia searched the house, and the rumpus room was the last place they looked. They heard what was happening before they reached the partly open door and surreptitiously peered in.
Jack gasped and reeled back, unbelieving. Kneeling like a slave between Jack Kimble's widespread legs, his own wife was eagerly and gluttonously sucking Jack's cock! Doing just the thing Harry had begged her to do for him so many times! And obviously loving every thick inch of it. Damn, she was gulping the whole thing down like she was starving, her dark hair flaring, her cheeks hollowing and ballooning with her oral rape of the banker. Her fingers were juggling his oversize balls and her moans of ecstasy could clearly be heard in the hallway. The expression on Beth's beautiful face was something Harry had never seen. Feral, savage. Her nostrils flared like those of a mare in heat.
"That fucking cock-sucking cunt!" he hissed between clenched teeth. Rage swept through him and he moved as if to burst into the room and tear them apart, smash Beth's beautiful face, pulp her betraying mouth. "How could she do this to me? "
Marcia had to stifle a laugh as she quickly caught Harry's arm and pulled him back. Although he resisted, he allowed himself to be led upstairs to the den, where Marcia mixed stiff drinks for both of them. He drained his in two throat-searing gulps and held out his glass for a refill.
"How could she?" he kept muttering.
Marcia could hardly stop from breaking into hysterical laughter as Harry built up his role of injured innocence. Finally she said, "Lover, they caught us."
"Huh!"
"When you were going down on me, really giving me your tongue . . . we forgot to close the door, remember? The two of them suddenly popped up there. You couldn't see them from your position. I suppose Beth was just getting even."
"Jesus Christ! Why didn't you tell me?" the tall dark-haired salesman exploded. Now he wanted to hit Marcia! "Oh, shit!"
"Harry, it wouldn't have done any good at all. The damage was done. There might have been a fight, even," the tall blonde said in a cool voice. "Calm down. Let's go back to bed." Her smoky eyes moved to his flaccid cock. "You did me beautifully, but I haven't returned the favor."
"Beth sucks Harry and you suck me and that evens things all around, I suppose," he retorted, still bitter and feeling horns growing from his forehead. "After what I saw, I don't think I can even get it up. I've got to cool off."
"Come on," the taffy-haired woman urged, a lewd smile on her sensuous lips. "I know something even better than sucking. Something really nasty that will blow your mind."
"Like what?" he retorted in a sour tone.
"Like fucking me in the ass," Marcia whispered.
He could only stare in disbelief. He'd heard a lot of guys talk about it, but he himself had never sodomized a girl and he wasn't sure the idea appealed to him. Yet his penis was rising, becoming rampant just at the obscene thought. Then Marcia turned her back and rubbed against his loins. Her hand reached back to encircle his cock and draw it between her smoothly rounded ass-cheeks and she humped back at him, letting
Harry feel the warm slickness of her anal region. His member suddenly became rock-hard and he thrust at her, feeling the bulbous head target on her tight anus for an instant before slipping away, down into the juncture of her thighs.
Marcia giggled and ducked out of his grasp, saying, "Not standing up. Come on back to bed."
Once back in the scarlet room, Marcia lubricated her anus with the jelly and then knelt, this time with the thick pillow under her hips and her perfectly sculpted ass-cheeks spread wide in obscene invitation. Harry looked at the impossibly small ring of pink flesh that was her anus, and he was sure he could never get his big cock into anything so small.
"It's tight that's what makes it so good." Impatiently the lust-filled blonde began to rotate her hips. "Come on!"
Trembling like a schoolboy, Harry knelt in between her widespread thighs. He positioned himself, and when the head of his searching cock first encountered the tight elastic ring of her anus, he was sure the whole thing was impossible. But with a sigh of obscene desire. Marcia raised to meet his steady thrust.
Then his rock-hard erection breached the barrier and he was drilling far up into the incredibly tight, warm, juicy depths of Marcia's squirming rectum. He was sure he must be splitting her apart, but she gave no sign of feeling pain except to hold her breath until his cock was buried to the hilt, and then she began to hump her buttocks demandingly up to him and hum with pleasure as he slowly drove in and out of her hot, yielding body.
Well, one more time when a woman was right and he was wrong, Harry thought as he embarked on his first experience in sodomy. The blonde's slim hips and voluptuously contoured buttocks were thrashing and she was crying out her pleasure at the deep, reaming impalement as Harry slid a hand down her trembling flanks and then to her juicy pussy, manipulating her sensitive clitoris until Marcia screamed with wanton pleasure . . .
* * *
Both Harry and Beth dreaded the prospect of their meeting at a late breakfast. What could they possibly say to each other? Each carried guilt and anger and a sense of betraying and having been betrayed. They were walking on eggs.
In contrast, the Kimbles seemed to think nothing of the night's excursions into debauchery.
"Harry, we've got to talk," Beth said hopefully at a moment when they found themselves alone. "What happened to us?"
"This isn't the time or place," he said curtly.
"Then I think we should go home."
"Not yet," Harry declared. "We're still too shook up."
The opportunity for a confrontation was unexpectedly removed through a telephone call for Harry. It was from a single salesman who was working the lot over the holiday weekend. He had tried Harry's home and usual hangouts and finally thought he might be at the Kimble place. Harry could hardly believe his ears at the tale which was related.
"Who? He wants to buy what?" Harry stammered. "Cliff, if you're drunk . . . okay, you don't drink . . . what? Oh, he's trying it out . . . Not a road test. . .he's fucking the chick in it!" Harry wiped his brow and blinked in amazement. "Yeah, he's kookie enough, I hear. Well, hold onto the son of a bitch. I'll be there in a half-hour."
With a dazed look on his face, Harry turned to Jack and said, "You'd better come with me. There's the craziest deal of the year cooking."
"I got that impression. What is it?" Jack asked.
"Well, you know that white elephant of a motor home, the special job the factory stuffed down my throat. Thirty-three thou? Well, it seems a certain nut head TV star spotted it and wants to buy it. And he's trying it out. The road test involves banging his chick in it. On my lot!"
"It sounds like a put-on," the banker said.
"Hell, the guy's got a five-million-dollar private jet, a yacht worth a quarter of a mil. I'm going to run a razor over my jaw and change clothes. See you in ten minutes."
He almost ran from the house. Shaking his head, Jack Kimble also went to freshen up. Minutes later they were breaking the speed limit on the road to Indian Springs.
Left alone with Marcia, Beth found herself emotionally drained. She thought of all the wrong, depraved things she had done and tried to rationalize, telling herself she had been innocently led into the disgusting situation. But a persistent conscience kept nagging, you enjoyed it you wanted it you were a hypocrite and you 're still a hypocrite!
The troubled young wife mixed herself a powerful vodka and orange juice, got a pack of cigarettes and retreated to the side of the pool, trying to sort out her confused thoughts. After a time Marcia came out and stretched on a chaise lounge opposite her. She was grinning.
"Hating yourself in the morning, baby?" the tousle-haired blonde asked.
"I'm hating everybody particularly you!"
Beth snapped. She had to restrain herself from hurling her drink into the beautiful mocking face. "How could you? HOW COULD YOU?"
"My God, I thought you were more grown up than this. We did you and Harry a favor a hell of a big favor and you're too naive to realize it."
"Oh, beautiful," Beth said bitterly. "You seduce Harry and get him to use his tongue and mouth on your cunt like a whore, when you knew we were having problems. Not too big, but problems. Now we've got a big problem."
"Who seduced whom is debatable, darling," Marcia said, glad that the men had been called away. With her dark-tressed neighbor alone and in a distraught condition, she finally had her chance to carry out her own long-planned seduction. Beth was so rattled that with a little pushing she would break, and then Marcia could if she were lucky manipulate the emotionally disturbed younger woman with the "All men are bastards" ploy and, with carefully prepared tales of woe, convert the presently seething anger in Beth's heaving breast to sympathy. After all, misery does love company. But first she had to needle her some more.
"Let's be realistic, Beth," Marcia said, lighting a cigarette. "We'd all been drinking. Nobody was drunk, but the inhibitions, yours included, got lost somewhere. Harry kissed me and I kissed him back. You were doing the same with Jack -only his hands were all over your breasts, and your hand your hand was inside his fly. You were playing with his cock."
"I guess so," Beth admitted, blushing at the memory. "But you took your panties off!"
"It was that or have them torn off. Harry was really coming on."
"He would have stopped if you insisted."
"I'm not sure. Maybe you didn't notice it, but he wasn't missing a thing you were doing. I could feel him getting uptight and I thought the best thing to do would be maneuver him someplace else. I was afraid of what he might do to you or Jack if he wigged out, so I got him away from there, into the house."
"Into your fuck-palace bedroom!" Beth shot back bitterly.
"Guilty," Marcia admitted. "Oh, I'll admit it. I wanted Harry to lay me. He's a big, virile guy, and it was plain you'd get yours from Jack."
"He wasn't laying you when I looked in the door," Beth retorted. "He was licking your cunt!"
"Darling, that was all he could do," Marcia said.
"That's a lie!" Beth shot back. "Don't try to tell me Harry was impotent. . . sometimes he screws me three times a night."
"I believe it but last night he couldn't get it up. I sucked him and that didn't help. He began to apologize, and then spilled out what was bothering him. You and your one-way sex, Beth. God, eating and sucking are things any normal, well-adjusted couple do. But not you. You wouldn't hear of it. You boxed Harry into that deadly missionary sex, and he'd about had it. He loves you, but you've been driving him nuts!"
"I didn't think it was that bad," Beth said, realizing that there had to be some truth in what the long-legged blonde said.
"Well, I'm a few years older than you and centuries older when it comes to knowing men. Yet once I was just like you. It took Jack to liberate me, and he didn't have an easy time of it. A couple of years went by before I really enjoyed everything! And I don't think Harry's got as much patience as Jack. He's got a lot to learn too. As for what you saw well, he was so uptight, he had to have something! He was really down, had to know he could still turn a woman on. He took off my dress and gave me a trip around the world that wouldn't quit and then he ate my pussy until I was limp. After that, he was all right, hard as a railroad spike."
"And then you took advantage of him and let him fuck you! But what about me? After all, Harry's my husband. Maybe I wanted to get fucked, too. Did you ever think about that?"
Marcia looked down at the protesting girl with a half-smile on her beautifully sensual lips. "Well, you weren't exactly the picture of innocence yourself, you know."
Beth gasped. How much did her blonde-haired neighbor know, she wondered. Could Jack have told her? But Marcia answered her question.
"Harry got a bad case of the guilts later. He didn't know if you'd gone home or what," Marcia said, making up details as she went along. "He insisted we look for you and Jack. And when we found you, I thought the poor guy would die. There you were down on your knees giving Jack the blow job to end all blow jobs -the one thing you'd denied your own husband. And don't tell me you weren't turned on! I know enough about sucking cock to see plainly when a girl is doing it just to please the guy and when she's ravenous for it. You should have had a look at your own face . . . the way your lips were wrapped around Jack's prick, the way you gulped and sucked and licked . . . oh, no, Beth. You wanted it!"
"Oh, Christ!" Beth cried out in torment. She couldn't stand to listen to any more of her carnal adventure. And Harry had seen her doing that to Jack! Oh, God! No wonder he was upset!
Blindly she jumped to her feet and ran into the big house, slamming the door behind her. Brutal though it was, she admitted Marcia's indictment was true. She had held herself in for so long that when the circumstances were just right, she had completely discarded all her long-held values and freed the wanton imprisoned deep in her voluptuous female body. Tears blurring her vision, she sought out a bedroom and threw herself down on the oversized mattress, weeping bitterly. She no longer blamed her husband . . . or Jack . . . or even Marcia. Disgusting as it was, a lot of truth lay in what the emancipated blonde had said.
Now she had to somehow face herself, rebuild her entire existence along the lines of the obscene blueprint which had just come to light and somehow prove to Harry that she had really wanted to do that to him. The pillow became wet with the distraught woman's tears. She was unaware when Marcia quietly came into the room, shutting and locking the door behind her. Beth lay passively on the bed and felt it sag as Marcia moved to lie beside her and comfortingly put her arms around her, stroking her flesh comfortingly.
"Honey, face it," Marcia said. "Men are bastards. We can't do without them, but we can make it easier for each other."
"Y-yeah? H-how?" Beth mumbled.
"Well, by sort of sticking together . . . take care of each other when the wicket gets sticky. Now, we're lucky, the two of us. Our men are pretty good as men go. We have nice homes and they don't get drunk and beat us up, but we're still sex objects and possessions to be paraded, you know? They get together, a bunch of them and talk about kinky sex things and can't wait to get home and try them out."
Marcia moved in such a way that Beth was compelled to turn on her side so they were lying close, breast to breast and pussy to pussy, and Marcia's soft lips were brushing the tortured dark-haired girl's ear. Beth was too confused to realize what was really happening. "Oh, and we need them. I don't know what I'd do without cock, but sometimes it gets to be awfully heavy medicine and I I try another route."
Beth wanted to inquire the "other route" but had no chance as Marcia continued to talk, imparting secrets of her own life, her joys and frustrations at the hands of men. She could feel the lithe blonde's body pressed close to hers, the slim arms around her, caressing her back, riding up and down her spine, making her tingle.
For some reason she couldn't understand, she was trembling, her loins were heating and her smooth belly muscles were jumping. She no longer felt animosity for Marcia.
It was good to have her tender lips brushing her ear and whispering . . .
CHAPTER FIVE
Marcia's background story was, to Beth's ears, on the verge of the incredible. With a family incapable of helping her financially, she had been forced to drop out of college at San Diego at the age of twenty. She had no skills and the English Lit in which she had majored wasn't going to make her any money. She had spent some months on the beach, living on peanut butter and crackers until she happened on an old man who ran a hot dog wagon, a van in which he made the rounds of the beaches and small businesses, selling sandwiches, soda pop, candy and similar small items. He wanted to retire and was willing to sell out lock, stock and barrel for twenty-five hundred dollars.
Marcia didn't have that kind of money. Her meager savings came to barely two hundred. But she sensed a potential there and by selling her stereo set, records, no-longer-needed texts and anything else not absolutely essential for survival, plus begging and borrowing from friends, she managed to muster five hundred, whereupon she marched into a bank with shaking knees and asked for a loan.
The lending officer turned out to be Jack Kimble. He listened and studied the figures she had projected and sadly shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but there's not a chance," he had told her. "I'm impressed with what you have here, and I'm sure it will work as you've outlined it. But it's impossible."
"And just why is that?" Marcia had demanded, on the verge of tears and becoming angry at this stocky, soft-voiced man who on the one hand told her the deal looked good and in the next breath turned it down. "You bankers make me sick!"
Jack Kimble had explained that she was still a minor and could not sign a contract, and she had no adult to sign for her. To ease the blow, he had taken her to lunch and delved into her history in a sympathetic way. Finally, he had smiled and said, "Well, the bank can't lend you money. But I like your spirit. I'll make you a personal loan. If you default, there's nothing I can do. But I don't think you will."
Marcia got her hot dog wagon and quickly had a profitable route going. The hours were long often Marcia was up until two or three in the morning preparing sandwiches and other items for the following day but each week she met Jack Kimble and paid on her loan, and in less than six months she was out of debt. The meetings had led to intimate dinners and eventually to bed.
"I wasn't exactly a virgin, but this was the first time I'd ever found a real man, and when Jack asked me to marry him, I jumped. But believe me, I wasn't prepared for the things that came with it. My ideas of sex were cornier than yours. It took him two years to educate me . . . he's a real satyr . . . and I love it!" Marcia murmured. "He taught me really everything. . . like how much pleasure there could be to changing partners. But we always do it together. If Jack has to go on a business trip, I sit home and knit. . . or try something different."
"What is this 'something different' you're hinting about?" Beth whispered. Part of what Marcia said she'd already heard, about the swapping bit. But this new angle intrigued her.
"Now you'll think I'm really terrible," Marcia said with a seductive chuckle. "But I have some very lovely girl friends who find themselves left alone sometimes too."
"You're a . . . a lesbian!" Beth gasped softly. "No, no, no, no," Marcia reassured her. "Nothing like that! It's just that when the scene I gets too heavy with me, and I don't even want to see a man, well, it's nice to have a girlfriend to share the grief with."
"It's beyond me," Beth mumbled.
"Not if you stop and think a minute," the sleek blonde whispered. "Women can give things to each other that a man never could. Understanding and gentleness . . . and often a sexual relationship that's way off there by itself." Marcia shifted and her slender leg insinuated itself midway up the hot flesh of Beth's bare thigh. "Take us, for instance. You took a big hurdle last night, and were shocked when you saw Harry licking me. Now, could you lie with Harry and talk the way we're talking? I mean frankly, as a woman."
"I guess not," Beth mumbled. She was terribly confused again because on the one hand she wanted to hate Marcia . . . and on the other, she didn't want to leave the comfort of her arms, the smooth supple length of her body. She decided to switch the tack, but didn't want to move out of the arousing embrace. Beth nervously wet her lips and asked, "But aren't you taking a terrible chance of getting caught? I mean, with Jack's position and all."
"What chance?" Marcia replied. "Now, two men can't walk arm in arm down the street, but nobody thinks a thing about it if two women do. What's wrong with having lunch together or doing just the sort of thing you and I have done the past few weeks go bike riding in the country. Did you think you were getting talked about? Of course not."
"But having sex . . . " Beth murmured.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Marcia blurted. "You talk like we were a bunch of bull dykes ripping each other's clothes off! Sure, if we're in the mood, we go to bed, and it's beautiful. Discreetly, of course. Why, you know one of my most darling girls very well, and you've never suspected anything."
"Who?" Beth whispered, trying to think which of her friends it might be. She drew a complete blank.
"Laurie your husband's secretary."
"Oh, nooooo . . . " Beth gasped. Laurie was a pert, bouncy little girl with pointy breasts, slender legs, dark eyes and auburn hair in an elf cut. Beth knew the girl had plenty of boyfriends. "You're putting me on! I know Laurie . . . she's been to the house lots of times. She'd be the last one . . . "
"You want proof . . . wait a sec!"
Marcia untangled herself, left the room and quickly returned with a sheaf of Polaroid pictures. She fanned them out on the bed and Beth gasped, finding it hard to believe her eyes. But there in brilliant color was little Laurie, obviously swept away in passion as she and Marcia made love to each other. Beth grimaced and turned the pictures face down, shocked not so much by the acts themselves but by the fact that she'd never dreamed it of Laurie.
"Look again . . . see how beautiful it is for us," Marcia whispered.
Against her will, Beth looked. She saw after some study that these pictures were far different than those in some of the magazines Harry occasionally brought home from the adult bookstore in town. No false smiles or deliberately obscene poses intended to stir the prurient interests. Here were two beautiful women finding something they both needed. Beth's brain was in a whirl, and she hardly realized it when Marcia's lewdly skilled fingers nimbly opened her blouse and bared her breasts and then began to caress them.
Beth realized what was going on only when Marcia's soft hot mouth met hers, at first very gently, then gradually with more urgency. Beth opened her lips to protest, to say she wasn't like that, but before she could mumble anything, Marcia's flickering wet tongue slid past her teeth and deep into her mouth, and at the same time the deft hand began to knead her breast and twist the nipple enticingly. Beth writhed on the big bed, but the only result was that Marcia's leg slid higher up between her own and was pressed hotly against her tingling pussy.
How can this be happening to ME? Beth thought in dismay. It seemed that every time she squirmed, another of her erogenous zones came in tantalizing contact with the predatory blonde. And the really disturbing thing was she found herself liking the tactile sensations. Marcia's mouth was so soft and warm, her tongue so sweet as it probed her oral cavity, tickling and teasing. The young brunette found herself responding unwillingly, at first sucking and then allowing her own tongue to be led into the saliva-filled cavern of her neighbor's mouth. Her breasts were on fire and her little belly was quaking and her legs were spreading helplessly.
Then Beth felt her unresisting hand being led to the juncture of Marcia's satin smooth thighs and pressed against the soft, lust-swollen lips of the blonde's cunt. Desperately the nervous housewife tried to withdraw her hand but the long legs clamped it in place, and then Marcia was slowly rotating her pelvis, rubbing her pussy over the imprisoned fingers. Beth felt the moist pussy flower open and then her fingers were inside the outer lips, into the hot wetness. Marcia's kissing and manipulation of Beth's breasts became more urgent and arousing and the dark-haired girl, groaning in surrender, found herself pressing closer and closer, wanting the feel of Marcia's firm full breasts against her own-and now her hand was moving of its own accord, seeking Marcia's throbbing clitoris and finally the deep passage of her cunt.
An eternity passed, and Beth found herself completely helpless to resist. Never in her life had she been so gently and skillfully loved. She wanted to get up and run as Marcia began to undress her, drawing the blouse away from her heaving bosom, then deftly unsnapping her shorts and sliding them down her legs. As she tried one last desperate time to rise, Marcia's weight bore her down on the mattress and then the blonde's lewdly sucking lips were fastened on the outthrust nipples of her breasts and Beth could only whimper in surrender. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend it wasn't happening. The bed rocked and she looked up to see Marcia drawing her mini-shift over her head and fluffing out her tawny mass of hair.
And then they were lying naked in the bed together, Marcia the skilled, gentle aggressor, Beth reluctant but unable to control her newly awakened desire as the hot wet kisses covered her trembling body.
Beth lay passive, submitting, as Marcia leaned over her and with the pointed tip of her darting tongue teased nerve centers Beth didn't know she even had! The golden head kept moving lower and lower, the searing lips showering kisses on Beth's rippling white belly while Marcia's hand expertly caressed her feverish pussy. Then Marcia was spreading the trembling legs of the dark-haired girl and she was kneeling between the satin smooth thighs, her taffy hair spraying over legs and loins. Beth felt gentle fingers parting the moistened lips of her vagina, and then Marcia's hot breath blew on the sensitive coral-hued inner flesh.
Beth cried out at the first contact.
Marcia darted her tongue directly at the aroused button of Beth's clitoris, and it flickered like the tongue of a snake for a moment before the seeking lips sucked it between them and Beth felt the teasing nibbling of Marcia's perfect white teeth.
"Ooooooohhhhhh . . . aaaaaaaaahhhhh!" Beth cried out softly, and against her will she found her pelvis undulating as she thrust her pussy up to the tantalizing oral caresses. Marcia's tongue began to flick from side to side of the glistening cunt like the wings of a butterfly, and as Beth nearly screamed in mounting passion the other girl's experienced mouth locked tight to the lust-swollen cunt lips and sucked. Then the long red spear of her tongue slithered deep into Beth's pussy, twirling and flicking, driving her almost insane. With a strangled cry, she suddenly grasped the bobbing head and pulled Marcia's face violently into her gushing loins. Beth's long legs flailed and locked across the other woman's shoulders and she fucked wildly up to the delving tongue. "God! Ooooohhhh . . . aaaaa . . . eeeeeyyyyyaaaaahhh! Eat meeee!"
Marcia increased her efforts, arousing the half-wild brunette in every way she knew. She pressed the middle finger of her right hand into the crease of Beth's obscenely exposed buttocks and worked it around, thrusting until the rubbery sphincter muscle yielded. Beth stiffened as the finger penetrated inward to the first knuckle. It was strange and vile, but excruciatingly exciting, as the invading digit began to stretch her anus and bore deeper and deeper until it was buried to the hilt and Marcia's hand was making lewd liquid slapping sounds against her sweating ass-cheeks. Beth found herself fucking urgently up to the gulping mouth at her cunt and then screwing with whorish abandon down on the driving finger in her anus. She was completely out of her mind, ready for anything.
And then the surge of rampaging orgasm engulfed her. It started deep in her belly like a bomb going off and swept through her jerking, trembling body and spilled from her loins into the ravenously sucking mouth of Marcia. Beth screamed out her completion.
"Ooooohhh . . . I'm cummmmmiiiinnnngggg! Cummmmiiinnnnnggggg!" She writhed like a demon, thrashing in the throes of carnal lust and pleaded, "Don't stop. . . Oh, pleeeaseeee don't stop! "
Marcia stopped, but only for an instant, long enough to swing around on the bed and straddle
Beth's face, framing it with her long smooth legs, wriggling her buttocks, bringing her dilated pussy with its guardian fringe of soft blonde curls to Beth's soft, wet lips. Beth breathed in the sweet woman scent and she reacted instantly in an animal way she'd never thought possible.
With a cry of abandoned desire, she grasped the older girl's churning buttocks and drew the dripping pussy down to her virginal mouth. Wildly she plunged her long, wet tongue into its depths as she drew the outer lips apart to seek the sweet nectar that glistened within her blonde friend's open vagina. She could feel the hot lubricious cunt rolling against her sensuous mouth and her fingers were like the talons of a hawk as she sought to pull Marcia's loins closer to her hungry mouth.
Marcia, who had waited and planned so long for this moment, was startled at the intensity of Beth's oral caress. The dark-haired girl, so innocent only a day before, was ravenous, and Marcia wonderedhow deep was the well which held her passions. No other girl had ever been so completely abandoned. All the others distilled into an "I'll do it to you if you'll do it to me" thing, but here there was no calculation. It was spontaneous and natural, and Marcia wondered even as her tongue plunged and probed into Beth's humping cuntal slit if there hadn't been more truth than fiction in the story she'd hoked up with which to seduce Beth.
"I'm cumming.. . Oh, darling, cum with me!" Marcia cried out as she felt the hot fluid boil down the depths of her cunt and into the younger girl's sucking mouth to be licked away by the tantalizing tongue. And then Beth was writhing, cumming a second time and Marcia drove her tongue to the very depths of the sweet pussy.
Exhausted, they crawled into a tight embrace and kissed each other asleep.
* * *
Tension filled the smoothly purring Cadillac as Harry and Jack drove into Indian Springs. Harry was repressing an urge to punch Jack's nose, yet he realized he was more angry with himself than with the banker. All the times he'd used every wile he could think of to get his cock into Beth's mouth and failed only to have Jack score like a burglar! He quit gnashing his teeth when he came in sight of the sprawling sales lot. The salesman was at the office door, trying to look nonchalant, and failing. The White Elephant, as the staff had dubbed the land yacht, was parked nearby.
"Where is he?" Harry demanded. He was beginning to get a headache, and he wanted a drink. "This better be on the level."
"I told you, he wanted to see how good it was to fuck in. His chick doesn't like hotels when they travel," the man said.
At that moment the face that was on millions of TV screens each Sunday night, and in movies four or five times a year, appeared at the door of the monstrous motor home. Harry put on his professional calm and introduced himself and Jack.
"Come in, brothers, come in, have a drink. Honey, get some more glasses and ice and stuff out we've got company."
Still dazed, Harry found the superstar to be just as relaxed and casual in the flesh as when he was performing. He was in his early fifties and the girl with him couldn't have been twenty. But she oozed sex with every little movement. A tall, sleek girl with pouty mouth, small but prominent breasts and high, almost Slavic cheekbones. She was impeccably groomed and if Harry hadn't been told, he would never have suspected she'd just been thoroughly balled as a means of testing the vehicle.
As they worked on the second round of drinks, Harry said, "You didn't stop to hear a sales pitch. I'm not up to one anyway."
The star grinned and said, "All I want to hear is the tinkle of little ice cubes in big glasses. How much?"
"The sticker price is thirty-three big ones. Call it thirty."
"Sounds reasonable. But I've got a trade."
"That could make a difference."
"Outside. You'll like it."
Harry went outside with the star and saw the deal fly out the window. Parked in the shade, top down, was a two-year-old white Rolls-Royce convertible. He knew it had cost more than forty thousand new, and it still looked new.
"I can't handle something that big," he said sadly. "The only thing I could possibly do is put it on consignment with the Rolls people and allow you whatever it brings. I could never give you what it's worth."
"All that barge is worth to me is a bale of traffic tickets," the star said. "It collects cops like shit collects flies. I'll take ten and the discount of three."
Harry Lansing could hardly believe his ears. Hell, he could wholesale the Rolls for twenty-five thou! Weakly he said, "You have the title?"
"I already gave it to your salesman. He's working up the papers."
Half an hour later, the star and his girl friend barreled down the Interstate highway, leaving Harry Lansing with a check for twenty thousand dollars and one Rolls-Royce.
"Jesus," Jack Kimble whistled. "What the hell are you going to do with it?"
"Drive it, what the hell else?" Harry said.
Jack decided to drop the Caddy off for servicing and ride back in the luxury car. Harry felt like a new man. He'd never dreamed of getting his hands on such a machine. Of course, he couldn't keep it, but he'd have the pleasure of tooling it around for a few days before looking for a buyer. He liked the way friends he passed goggled at the sight of him behind the wheel.
"Christ, the gals will flip!" he predicted, which brought him somewhat back to earth. There were things to be settled, and the fantastic car had given his ego such a boost that he was ready to bull ahead, and he said to Jack, "I want to know something. All this time I've been trying to get Beth to blow me, and no score. But she was doing you up like a crazy woman. How come?"
"I didn't do anything," Jack said. "You did. When she walked in and saw you down on Marcia, something snapped. I made some sympathetic noises, and the next thing she was down on her knees. That's all there was to it."
"Shit!" Harry muttered. "Simple as that! Well, we'll just have to coast along and see how things work out."
At home, Harry ran the Rolls into his garage.
He didn't want Beth seeing it yet she might want to keep the damn thing. The two men crossed the lawn to Kimble's and found no sign of their wives.
"Maybe they decided to take a nap it was a pretty long and vigorous night," Jack said. "Let's look around."
They began a tour of the huge house. They found their wives asleep in a tight embrace in a rumpled bed.
"I'll be goddamned!" Harry whispered. The room was rich with the scent of their sex, the sheets soaked with perspiration and cum.
Jack Kimble only smiled. Clever Marcy hadn't wasted any time in getting what she wanted out of the deal.
The men didn't disturb them. Harry was stunned but determined not to show it. He wondered if this whole weekend might just be a dream but was convinced otherwise when he stubbed his toe painfully on the leg of a chair. They went out by the pool with the portable bar and Harry dedicated himself to getting drunk. He thought that only in an intoxicated condition could he possibly make any sense out of the fast-moving events. He just could not accept the fact that his narrow-minded Beth had suddenly turned into not only an eager cocksucker, but a lesbian.
Harry's first impulse was to break necks and kick asses, but, as successive drinks took hold, he began to think that maybe it was a good thing that it had happened when it did, and in the way it had.
Certainly this abrupt turnabout couldn't be just a freak thing. The obscene desires must have been lurking just below the calm surface and awaiting an incident which would trigger them. He began to count himself lucky that it had happened with the Kimbles who, if they might be sort of far out, were discreet and obviously knew how to handle such matters. What if they'd fallen into the clutches of some of the wild sex club exploiters and been sucked into the sewers of degeneracy? He knew personally of several cases where that had happened, and the women were led into sordid things like prostitution and performing in pornographic movies, taking the most depraved roles, enslaved by their own lust, finally turning to dope to keep going.
They drank slowly, nibbling on leftovers from the previous night's dinner, and watching a baseball game on the portable TV. It was late afternoon when Beth and Marcia appeared, looking fresh and relaxed. Marcia and Jack exchanged conspiratorial winks. Beth found she had no difficulty looking Harry in the eye, but then she had no idea that he had seen her in bed with Marcia. Drained by her wild sexual exploits, Beth had been sound asleep. But Marcia had been alert and was thoroughly pleased with herself. Everything had gone even much better than she and Jack had dared to hope.
They wanted to know if the star had really bought the huge motor home and Harry simply said that he had. He didn't mention the Rolls.
Evening came, and with it a cooling breeze. The drinks had mellowed them all, yet, without speaking of it, they were all thinking of the same thing. What would happen when they decided it was time to go to bed? Who would wind up with whom, and what delights would they indulge in?
The bright silver moon rose, casting the grounds in alternate gleams and shadows, and Marcia suggested they have a swim. They stripped naked by the pool and plunged into the cool water, frolicking, clutching, caressing. At one point Harry was sitting on the apron of the pool, his legs dangling in the water, his cock hardening as he watched the two beautiful women. Beth swam by, noticed him, gulped a bulging mouthful of water, popped up between his legs and squirted it in his face.
"Hey!" her husband yelled, and then jumped as she grabbed his penis and guided it deep into her mouth and let him feel the sharp nibbling of her teeth. Her dark hair, glistening with water, swirled as her head plunged to the base of his cock several times, but as Harry caught it and tried to fuck deeper between her clinging lips, Beth squealed and swam away with the grace of a dolphin, wickedly calling, "Later!"
When the water had chilled them, Jack suggested they look at some movies he had. They dried themselves in the pool house and made their way to the rumpus room, where there was a 16-mm movie sound projector and a wall panel slid back to reveal a large screen. Cans of film were produced, drinks made and the lights turned down as they settled on the big old sofa.
Beth Lansing had heard of such movies but never seen one. Nobody had to tell her these were top quality. The actors and actresses were beautiful people, uninhibited, skilled in every variety of sex. The films were not the run-of-the-mill things where the performers appear in a bedroom, take off their clothes with boredom and go through the motions. These had plots light but still plots and each succeeding sex act was a seduction or awakening in itself.
After an hour and a half, Jack called a break and said he was going to make some special drinks. He produced an ornate bottle filled with a greenish fluid that looked like an after-dinner liqueur. When he poured generous drinks into iced glasses and added water, it turned milky white. Beth tasted it and the flavor was strange, sort of like licorice.
"Pernod," Jack told her. "Best pecker hardener in the world. A few of these and you'll be ready to ball a bear."
The drink was smooth, and in a few minutes Beth could feel her pussy beginning to throb, and she knew that soon she would want it filled with a wildly plunging cock . . . or tongue. Jack fixed a second round of drinks before again turning the lights down and switching on the automatic projector.
This film made both Beth and Harry blink. It had been shot in the red bedroom of Jack and Marcia! There were two couples, young and beautiful people, and they intertwined in every imaginable way. For the first time, Beth saw a girl being sodomized, kneeling across a huge ottoman, spreading her smooth ass-cheeks while her partner struggled to penetrate her tiny anus.
"Oooh! Ooooohhhhh! Wow!" Beth whispered as slowly the man's cock bored into the writhing center of the girl's lewdly stretched buttocks. The camera showed initial grimaces of pain and the sound system reproduced her gasps and whimpers, and then it caught the transition from pain to wild, uncontrollable pleasure. Beth found herself leaning forward, eyes popping. Marcia was sitting beside her and unconsciously Beth's hand explored and found her breast, squeezing it in obscene arousal. She could almost believe the long, glistening cock was ramming into her virgin ass! She felt hot wetness at the lips of her cunt and she wondered giddily where the Beth of just a few days ago had gone. Wherever it was, she'd never be back!
The next sequence was even more startling, because of the contraption involved if nothing else.
"The ancient and honorable Chinese Basket," Jack said with a salacious laugh.
Hanging from a ceiling beam directly over the scarlet-covered bed was an open weave wicker basket shaped like half a pear. It was big enough to accommodate a full-grown adult, and Beth vaguely remembered seeing something similar in her childhood used as a lawn swing. Only this one had a hole in the bottom. At the top it was attached to a thin steel cable with a turnbuckle. The cable ran through a series of pulleys to a crank fastened to the wall by which the basket could be winched up and down.
Now a girl with long black hair and stunning figure settled herself in the basket, her smooth-shaven pussy protruding through the hole. One of the men cranked her up and another, his penis in a state of semi-erection, stretched out on the bed on his back with his loins just below the suspended girl. Another girl, this one a rich-lipped redhead, crawled onto the bed and began to skillfully tongue and suck his cock to full, blood-hardened rigidity. She held it by the base, aiming it straight up as slowly the girl in the basket began to rotate and wind the winch down.
Like a spider dangling from the ceiling, she moved lower and lower until the gaping lips of her pussy made contact with the reddish-purple tip of the man's lust-swollen rod of flesh. Very slowly she continued to spin, and with agonizing slowness, the penis was screwing into her cunt while the redhead licked the length of the staff and the man's heavy testicles.
On and on the film ran, the man lying still as a statue while his phallus was slowly consumed until the girl's vaginal lips were grinding down onto his wiry pubic hair. She swung to and fro for a minute, then began to reverse the process, still spinning, her face contorted with sensual pleasure as gradually she rose until only the head of the thick spear of flesh was buried in her cunt that was now glistening with her own secretions.
Then she spun around twice, fast, and the man's penis jerked and his back arched as he tried to get deeper into the dark-haired girl. His rod was twisted like a corkscrew as he cried out and shot a thick stream of rich whitish cum barely inside the flexing vaginal lips. It spurted and then ran in rivulets down over his naked loins and the redhead was crawling onto the bed again, her pink tongue eagerly licking away the rich semen. As the raven-haired girl left the swing, the other man pulled her legs apart and eagerly drove his tongue deep into her gushing vaginal slit.
"My God!" was all the stunned Beth could say.
"We keep that toy out of sight, in case some uninitiated house guest should wander into that room," Jack said. "But maybe we can rig it before the weekend's out."
"It's a real gas," Marcia added. "I used to think screwing was an in-and-out thing, but I found out it's really rotary."
"Another round and we'll head for the playpen, okay?" Jack suggested. He made the drinks doubly strong that time.
CHAPTER SIX
They trooped through the house to the red room, bringing the Pernod and mixings. Beth felt the heat in her belly, the tingling wetness between her legs, soaking the soft curly hair that framed her aroused pussy. She could hardly wait. She didn't care which or how many of them took her, or what technique they wanted. She thought of the girl in the movie, kneeling with a cock in her tight rectum, and she told herself, Yes, even that! Once, anyway, to see what it's like! The Chinese Basket should be a real far-out experience too, but she was in no mood to wait while the device was brought out and rigged up. She wanted cock and she wanted it NOW!
They literally threw themselves on the outsized bed, reaching and feeling and kissing indiscriminately until Marcia said, "Hey, I'm hot enough to explode right now! Just looking at a prick or tongue will make me cum. Why don't we start off with a quartet and get the edge off? Then fool around and when we're ready to go again, we can take our time. Really do things up right!"
There was no argument. They arranged themselves face to loins. Because she had denied him so long, Beth lay with her head cradled on her husband's leg, her eager mouth an inch from the reddish tip of his lust-ready cock. Harry snuggled his face into Marcia's already dripping bush of straw-colored cuntal hair, while she fondled her own husband's turgid penis, making him iron-hard. Beth felt Jack's head between her thighs and his hot breath passing through her damp cuntal hairs to arouse the tender pink inner flesh of her pussy.
Then the room was filled with heavy breathing and the sounds of lurid licking and sucking. With her new found skill, Beth eagerly began to lick Harry's warm rubbery cockhead, dipping the tip of her darting tongue into the little slit, savoring the pearly fluid. He groaned as she pursed her full lips into a soft oval and drew the mushroom-shaped head between them, her tongue swirling and teasing. Then her head went down and down to the base of his loins until only a thick stub of his male flesh protruded from her eagerly sucking mouth. She grasped his clenching buttocks and pulled him even tighter to her face, her cheeks swelling with the intrusion. Wantonly she began to suck her husband, as if to make up for all the times she had denied him. She loved the way he was jerking, fucking deep into her throat, and her fingers lewdly toyed with his heavy scrotal sac.
Marcia had been wrong on one point, possibly because of the aphrodisiac effects of the Pernod. There were no sudden climaxes. Writhing, the two couples made unrestrained oral love, their lust and endurance increased by the knowledge that they were all linked in sexual abandon. Beth found her loins surging against Jack's hot mouth as his tongue teased her clitoris, and then her husband began to jam himself violently into her gaping mouth. The full length of his wildly jerking manhood was buried deep in her throat when his balls exploded and the rich, thick sperm spewed in a hot torrent into her spasmodically gulping lips. She almost choked but managed to swallow the cream-sweet cum, feeling it burn like lava as it poured into her quaking little belly and formed a warm rich pool there.
His ejaculation, and the lewdly delving tongue and sucking lips of Jack Kimble brought on her own climax seconds later, and Beth bucked and writhed and passionately licked her husband's slowly softening shaft.
The quartet separated, panting with satiated desire. More drinks were had and then Jack Kimble studied his guests carefully before he made a rare offer.
"Would you go for a number? Acapulco Gold."
Beth looked at him blankly. Harry said, "Marijuana, honey. The best. I don't smoke a lid a year, but this is a night to turn on."
"I never knew you smoked at all," Beth said, surprised but not particularly shocked. She'd read the pros and cons of pot and it seemed no worse to her than liquor, maybe better. "If you think so okay."
From a concealed drawer, Jack Kimble took a Moroccan leather box chased with gold. The sticks of pot were machine rolled and the papers bore the name of a major cigarette. He handed around gold roach clips, and Beth had to be told what they were for. She coughed violently at the first puff, and Jack explained to her about drawing the pungent smoke deep into her lungs and holding it as long as she could.
By the time the number was half-consumed, Beth felt a mellow glow spreading through her. The nagging sense of guilt, weakened as it already was by the delights of her newfound sexuality, disappeared like ground fog in the early morning sun.
"Ooooooh . . . This is good!" she said, affixing the clip and almost burning her lips as she went for the final hit. She grinned wickedly and said, "I'd like another."
"Later," Jack said. "You're still going up, and you're not used to this stuff. For you, one stick is beautiful, two would be bad news."
"Whatever you say," she agreed. Looking brightly around at the others, she proposed, "Let's fuck!"
"The spirit's willing but the flesh is weak, sexy," Harry said with a lewd grin, waving his still limp penis at her.
Beth shot a look at her husband. She wanted Marcia, but she didn't know how Harry would react to seeing her make it with a girl. But Harry only chuckled and said, "Jack and I saw you two in bed."
"Oh." Well, that was that! No secrets left, Beth thought. She combed her fingers through her long dark hair and her near-black eyes swept over the lush reclining form of Marcia. She said, "If you'll show me how to do that round-the-world thing."
"I thought you'd never ask," Marcia said, wetting her sensuous lips. She rolled on her belly and whispered instructions. Beth bent low over her, tongue extended, and began to kiss and lick the sweet salty flesh of the squirming blonde. Her lips and tongue found the erogenous zones, and after a time Marcia's back and clenching ass-cheeks glistened with saliva. Languorously
Marcia rolled over, drew Beth's ardent mouth to her own and kissed her deeply, then led her further into the lesbian rite. Beth sucked and tongued the firm warm breasts and slowly shifted downward on the bed, orally caressing the smooth flat belly, and then the pink tip of her tongue was wetly darting around the borders of the golden pubic hair. Beth kissed slaveringly down the full length of the sleek legs, laved between Marcia's toes and the soles of her feet and then, as Marcia's thighs tantalizingly parted to bring her tight cuntal furrow into full view and her thumbs parted the blood-swollen fleshy lips to reveal the glistening pink inner flesh, Beth moved to kneel between the obscenely spread thighs, her head dipping, her long wet tongue flickering, seeking the nectar that was welled up in the warm cavern of Marcia's rich-scented pussy.
With a groan of desire, Beth pulled the soft thighs wide and plunged her head into the wetly soft heat of Marcia's genitals. Her tongue licked and twirled and fluttered and she sucked and teased the erect little clitoris that was like a tiny penis as Marcia cried out in desire and pleasure and her legs came together, hotly framing Beth's burrowing face.
Harry and Jack watched with amazement and mounting desire. Harry was stunned. He'd never suspected the raging passion that had smoldered so long in his young, beautiful wife. The wild wet sounds of her licking and sucking crashed like raging surf in his ears. He couldn't take his eyes away from the rampant lust of her features. Her dark eyes were rolling and she was nuzzling the grinding pussy and even working a finger deep into Marcia's tightly puckered anus as Marcia screamed out her first orgasm.
"Honey, swing up here and let me do you, too," the blonde whispered urgently.
"NO! This is mine. . . all mine this time!" Beth blurted, and her ravenous mouth again sought the sweet fountain which was now gushing with Marcia's rich vaginal secretions. Beth surrendered her source of wanton pleasure only when her darting tongue ached and began to swell, when her neck muscles hurt and her rich, full lips were tender from the wild surging of Marcia's aroused pussy.
Then, licking her lips, savoring the delicious aftertaste, Beth rolled away and, panting, lay on the soft velvet coverlet. Jack handed her a fresh drink, tall and cold, and a second number.
Harry stood by the bed, his cock again hard. There was a sort of stunned expression on his face. Beth grinned wickedly and asked, "Shocked?"
"Sort of," he mumbled.
"I still like this better," she said, and impishly caught the end of his penis and dipped it into her ice-cold Pernod, laughing wantonly when he yelled in surprise.
They decided it would be a good idea to have some solid sustenance, and trooped down to the kitchen for a raid on the refrigerator. It was two o'clock in the morning and they were somewhat giddy from their sexual excesses and the drinks they'd consumed. Their rampant animal lust had been slaked for the moment, and none of them wanted to talk about what remained of their weekend of sex, what lay ahead, although through each mind possible variations and combinations passed like trinkets on a revolving display.
Jack broke out more ice cubes and filled an insulated bucket and they sat around the kitchen table informally. The Pernod had been retired for the moment and the drinks which they were having now were tall and weak. None wished to lose his or her sexual capacity to alcohol.
For lack of anything else to discuss, Jack said, "Harry, I think you should keep the Rolls-Royce."
"What Rolls-Royce?" the wives asked in unison.
"I don't believe it," Beth said when the story was told. "This I have to see.. "
"Me too!" Marcia agreed. Half-high on marijuana and liquor and forgetting they were stark naked, the quartet marched next door, where the woman stared with fascination at the fabulous car. Twice they read through the title which had come with it until Beth exuberantly vaulted over the door and into the deep leather seat and said, "We want a ride!"
"You'd have to put clothes on," Jack said. "The police would love to find four naked bodies driving around at three a.m. in this car."
"Oh, fuck it," Marcia said. "We can do it in the morning."
They went back to the Kimble house, spirits high. Jack explained why he had decided Harry should keep the car. For one thing, he'd gotten it for less than something like a new Mercedes would cost, and it should last a lifetime. For another, it could be written off as a business expense and from a public relations angle would give prospective customers the idea that his sales lot was thriving and therefore must be good to deal with. Harry said he'd think about it, but a look from Beth told him he'd bought it.
Back in the red bedroom, Beth found herself in a state of euphoria. She had never in her life dared to dream of owning a Rolls, and her agitation made her ready for anything. More marijuana was smoked and more Pernod consumed. Jack asked if anybody was interested in more films.
"I like a live show better," Beth said with a wicked giggle, her eyes glittering. She looked at her husband and asked, "Harry, can we do something really wild?"
"That's what we're here for," he replied laconically.
"Just once.. .just once I want to try it," Beth said, and even as she spoke realized she wasn't so sure.
"What?" Harry queried.
"I want to try it like that girl in the movie -in my bottom!" She was amazed at her own brazenness, but then she was stunned at what she had turned into over the weekend. Beth wanted to know every facet of carnal delight. "I wonder if it hurts much."
"A little at first," Marcia said with the voice of experience. "Then it's far out."
"Okay, honey," Harry said, "Roll over and get up on your hands and knees and we'll see how it fits."
With a surge of wanton excitement, Beth moved to comply, spreading her legs until her lewdly stretched buttocks made a softly rounded target. She held her breath as Harry knelt behind her, rolling the foreskin back over the head of his aroused cock. Beth gasped as she felt the hot tip slide up the crack of her ass-cheeks and center on the tight pink rose of her anus. She braced herself and rotated her hips as the girl in the movie had done.
"Okay," the dark-haired beauty whispered.
"No! You'll rip her apart!" Marcia protested. "A girl has to be ready first. Let me take care of that."
Quickly she brought a tube of vaginal jelly and, easing Harry aside, leaned over Beth's kneeling body, feeling her tremble in anticipation. Marcia brushed the gleaming mass of hair from her neck and began to teasingly kiss and nibble her way down the younger woman's spine as her hands slowly caressed the trembling hemispheres of Beth's buttocks. Her tongue was like liquid fire and it spread to the widely splayed ass-cheeks and began to make a wet little circle around the puckered anus as Beth twitched and gasped in new arousal.
Then, bringing her face in tight to the squirming hot flesh, Marcia plunged her tongue deep up into Beth's quivering rectum and Beth squealed in arousal and humped back. Damn, it felt funny, but good! She was going to like this! She felt her tight sphincter relaxing, allowing the probing, twirling lingual member deep access. And then she felt the slick jelly being spread around the tight little hole and up inside her body.
If a tongue felt this good, what would a cock be like!"
She found out quickly as Marcia surrendered her position and Harry mounted her, pushing her knees so far apart the tendons ached. Marcia whispered to drop down on her elbows and rest her face on the pillow and Beth complied, feeling the restless fires in her loins.
Then Harry shifted, grasping her writhing hips in his strong hand and holding her fast. Suddenly she felt the huge mushroom-shaped head of his cock pressing relentlessly at the tight rubbery ring of her anus. Raising her head and looking back, she saw Marcia holding Harry's cock, aiming it at the tiny defenseless target.
"Oooooohhhhh!! " Beth gasped as she realized the difference in size between Marcia's soft tongue and her husband's lust-filled penis. Suddenly she was sure it would never fit! She changed her mind and tried to squirm loose, but she was held in his inexorable grip and the rigid rod of male flesh was pushing, pressing relentlessly for entry. Then came the first pain, enough to make her whimper. And the terrible, reaming pressure. Suddenly her anal ring yielded and the burgeoning head of Harry's penis popped through the portal. She almost screamed as she felt her tender flesh being stretched almost beyond its endurance and she cried out, "Oh, stop, stop, STOP! IT HURTS!"
"Just for a minute," Marcia soothed. "Harry, let her relax."
For several minutes Harry remained immobile, the tip of his cock penetrating his wife's sorely distorted rectum. He flexed his half-embedded cock, and each time Beth moaned softly. But she felt her body accommodating to the strange intruder. She felt stuffed, but the pain diminished until with slow, short strokes, Harry began to impale himself deeper and deeper into the hot, tight passage. Each measured thrust of the probing penis brought new pain and soreness, but he was relentlessly going deeper and deeper into the clenching ass-cheeks. Marcia moved in to rub jelly on the protruding length of his thick shaft and it began to move easier. Beth was sure it would spear all the way to her tense belly. In a mirror, she could see herself kneeling meekly, subserviently before the invading phallus, and the utter obscenity of her position, the degradation thrilled her in a masochistic way. Now she wanted to feel pain. She began to rock from side to side, finding a way to rotate her wide-splayed buttocks and to help Harry sink deeper and deeper into her vitals until finally, with a grunt and a powerful lunge that sent her tender inner flesh rippling in waves before it, he sank his penis to its very roots and his heavy balls slapped wetly against the tautly stretched flesh of her squirming buttocks. "Eeeeeeyyyaaaahhhhhh!" Beth cried out and clamped her internal muscles tight around the impressive girth of his throbbing shaft. To the kneeling girl, its size was magnified many times by the sensitivity of thousands of nerve ends. "Ooooooh . . . Harrrryyyyyyy!"
Hardly able to believe that this was his own beautiful, almost shy, wife that he was sodomizing while another couple looked on with lascivious grins, he began to fuck slowly and deeply into the steaming cavity, loving the way her sphincter grasped his invading maleness so tightly, fascinated by the way the pink flesh of her rectal passage clung to it on the out-stroke and then disappeared back into her writhing body as he drove lustily forward, fucking far up into her trembling loins.
Beth began to sob, the pain was so intense. She writhed and beat her hands on the bed and then found it was easier if she kept her buttocks moving, jerking and rotating to meet the relentless thrusting, than if she remained immobile.
Masochistically she began to revel in the pain, and as she did, it began to give way to pleasure, a wild sensual surging through her squirming body. And suddenly it was the most arousing sensation she had ever experienced.
"Oooooooohhhhhh . . . Nice now, darling," she chanted, humping back violently, trying to absorb more and more of his cock. "Oh, fuck me! Fuck me hard and fast for a long, long time."
The wet slapping of their bodies and their fevered panting were the only sounds as with increasing speed the rampant piston plunged and surged into Beth's now eager rectum. She rocked back to meet each savage, lust-driven stroke, glorying in the way her tender inner flesh .rippled and boiled as the bulbous head shot far up into her tightly clutching anus. Harry's balls were pounding on the sensitive nub of her passion-swollen clitoris and suddenly her entire body quaked and trembled as the orgasm which had been building up burst its restraint.
"I'm cummmiiiiinnnnnngggg!" Beth cried out at the top of her lungs. "Oh, Harrrryyyyyy! I'm cummmmmmiinnnnnggg! Fuck meeeee! Oh, keep fucking meeeee!"
He was still iron hard in her clenching ass-cheeks as Beth weakly fell forward, her internal muscles holding him tightly prisoner. She moaned in a delirium of sensual pleasure and weakly pleaded, "In a minute, some more -please?"
Sweating profusely, Beth nudged Harry until they rolled on their sides. Marcia handed her a fresh drink, half of which Beth gulped immediately, and a cigarette. She was panting, her full, firm breasts heaving, with streams of perspiration trickling between them. She smoked the cigarette quickly and finished the drink, feeling Harry's penis stiff hard as oak in her anus.
"I never knew any girl to turn on the way you do," Marcia said, shaking her head. "Honey, you're built for fucking! You should be in a sandwich."
"Sandwich?" Beth repeated, not understanding.
"Have both of them at once. Farther out than that you can't get!"
"In my cunt and ass at the same time!" Beth retorted, awed by the prospect. But the Pernod and pot were doing their work well, and the sheer lewd obscenity of the proposal fascinated her. Suddenly she wanted to know the very depths of degradation and humiliation and also the heights of illicit sexuality. It didn't sound possible, but damn it, she could try! Jack Kimble was standing by the bed, rubbing lubricant on the thick length of his cock, and she was hungry for it as she said, "How?"
"Harry, roll on your back so Beth is on top of you. Honey, spread your legs as wide as you can, and when Jack gets on you, swing them up over his back and let him at your pussy," Marcia said as if she was directing a play. "When he gets in you, the three of you roll on your sides or Harry is going to get squashed. Then fuck like hell!"
Beth grunted as she felt herself being pulled on top of her husband. His hands cupped her trembling breasts, playing with the distended nipples, and it felt like he'd sunk even deeper into her widely stretched rectum. Then Jack was hovering over her, moving between her widespread legs, fingering her pussy and bringing the purplish-red tip of his manhood up to the widely dilated fleshy portals. Suddenly it looked huge, and she was sure this would never work! She couldn't possibly take it into her yearning cunt while Harry's thick spear of flesh was throbbing with desire in her rectum. She started to protest but then gasped as she felt the bulbous head pressing against her vulva, with Marcia holding the heavy-veined shaft for her husband, aiming it so it would plunge far up into her already stuffed loins.
"Oooooohhhhh . . . Aaaaaaauuuuuu gggghhh!" the dark-tressed woman cried out as the relentless thrusting of Jack's powerful hips suddenly drove the rubbery knob past the outer lips of her straining vagina. "I can't.. . I can't possibly!"
Beth thrashed and groaned and whimpered as pain of an intensity she'd never imagined wracked her body and brought tears to her luminous dark eyes. Relentlessly, Jack was ramming his rod up into the hot, slick depths of her pussy. She could feel it rubbing against Harry's cudgel, the two separated by nothing more than the tissue-thin membrane of her cuntal and rectal channels. Remembering Marcia's instructions, she found strength to scissor her long, sweat-streaked legs up and lock them around Jack's straining back, and then it was easier. Gripping her shoulders, the stocky man lunged, thrusting his muscular body forward, and Beth screamed as his penis was rammed to the hilt in her obscenely stretched vagina.
"Aaaauuggghhh!" she cried out in torment, her head rolling from side to side, her dark mass of hair flailing. The two impaling phalluses jerked and flexed, bringing gasps from her slack mouth. The men gave her a moment to adjust to the double invasion of her tender genitals, and then began to saw back and forth in rhythm, slowly, like the pistons of a reciprocating engine. As one cock withdrew, the other went deep into her straining body, and then the process was reversed. She felt herself being tipped and then the three were lying on their sides, and she could hear the wet squishing as they began to fuck her faster and faster. The pain was intolerable at first, much greater than she'd felt when Harry penetrated her virginal anus, and Beth moaned her agony and let the tears flow down her cheeks, She saw Marcia kneeling over them, smiling, and wondered how big a smile she'd have if this was happening to her. Then Beth told herself it probably had plenty of times. "Ooooohhh . . . Uuuuggghh!"
Gradually, her two partners increased the pace of their urgent fucking, and as they did, the pain began to diminish just when Beth was learning to enjoy it and want it to continue.
Now their cocks were sliding and reaming, and she was able to add her own lithe muscles to their efforts. Back and forth she rammed her hips, jamming her now yearning pussy up the full length of Jack's penis, the lips sucking like the mouth of a feeding fish until his balls slapped her aroused genitals, then screwing her clenching ass-cheeks back as he withdrew until only the bulbous mushroom-shaped head was in her cunt and savagely fucking with her anus the full length of her husband's plundering cudgel.
She felt like a volleyball as their powerful bodies slammed time after time against her, and now Beth was completely relaxed, an eager participant in this new and savage way of fucking. Their muscular lunges battered her hotly sweating flesh like it was foam rubber.
Beth twisted her head, and for the first time realized there was a huge mirror under the canopy over the bed. She could not believe that this was really herself reflected in the rose-tinted glass, but there she was, hair flailing, nostrils flared in lewd, wanton passion as the two thick, rampant cocks drilled relentlessly into her hotly craving body. The very immorality and obscenity of it drove the newly awakened girl to higher and higher peaks of wanton, shameful lust, and again she felt an orgasm ripple through her thrashing body like a flash flood, sweeping everything before it.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeee, you lovely bastards! Make me feel your pricks in my ass and cunt! Oh, God! Fm cumming again!" She shuddered with the intensity of her orgasm and saw the gleaming cum squirting from the pulsing mouth of her spasming cunt, pumped out by the piston of flesh which was plunging and boring deeper and deeper into the furnace of her loins. Her heels beat a tattoo on Jack Kimble's humping back, and Beth sobbed incoherently, "More . . . more! Harder . . . HARDER! Ooooohh, keep fucking!"
She could hardly hear her own voice. She was conscious really of nothing but the male flesh that was filling her to the bursting point. She was sure she'd be too weak to walk for hours, but then, if she stayed in the bed, more nice things might happen to her.
"Damn, I can't keep this up much longer," Harry panted as he screwed wildly into his wife's hotly receptive anus.
"She's enough to wear out a platoon of Marines," Jack agreed, his hands now clutching Beth's sweat-slick breasts and kneading them.
"A minute more, and I'll cum again!" the straining girl gasped. "Can we all cum together? That would be wild!"
"We can try," her husband said. "Ready, Jack? Well, FUCK HER!"
They pummeled the helpless girl between them, buffeting her back and forth, driving their rigid spikes of male flesh deep into her yielding, demanding body, bringing Beth to the peak of lewd sensual ecstasy again. Just as her loins began to erupt with the fury of a volcano, she felt the two massive cocks swell and begin to twitch as the mushroom-shaped heads ballooned. And then came the searing hot jets of her lovers' cum, gushing into her pussy and tightly clutching anus simultaneously.
The three of them were screaming out their lust-crazed pleasure in unison, and the scarlet bedspread was whitened with their thick semen. Panting, the trio lay, exhausted, drained, their bodies glistening with sweat.
"I never knew there was anything like that," Beth mumbled finally as they lay twined together. Neither of the men wanted to withdraw from the hot moist depths of her quaking body until the afterglow of their maniac screwing had faded. When they did, long strings of silvery white cum linked the heads of their cocks to her vagina and rectum, and Beth looked for something to wipe her streaked thighs clean.
"Hey, let me, all of you," Marcia said.
She knelt over them and in turn laved them with her long, slithering tongue, eagerly licking up every droplet and string of semen, and then glued her mouth to Beth's cunt and sucked it clean.
The bathroom had a massive tub in addition to a shower that would have accommodated a basketball team. Languorously, the two couples soaked and soaped in warm water, then showered the suds away in a biting stream of cold water. It was nearly sun up when they had finally toweled themselves dry.
Beth felt weak and wobbly and said as much, to which Marcia replied with a chuckle, "No wonder! You were the meat in the sandwich for an hour and twenty-three minutes. I timed it!"
Despite their exertions, none felt up to more than a light breakfast. Coffee and fruit juice and toast and jam. Then Beth and Harry went next door to their house long enough to change clothes. Beth stopped to marvel at and caress the white Rolls convertible and pictured herself wheeling up to the Indian Springs Country Club. There was no other Rolls in the county.
When they returned to the Kimble's, they discovered Jack had been doing some thinking.
This was one hell of a weekend, and it's not over yet. A rare thing is going here, and Marcia and I have been talking. Living as close as we do makes everything convenient no snoopers would know who's at which house, or why. But one thing bothers me."
"What's that, Jack?" Harry asked.
"I'm afraid we might get bored with each other after a time. What do you think of keeping an eye out for another couple or even two!? Young, beautiful people with enough savvy to handle an arrangement like this?"
"We could think about it," Beth said. As a matter-of-fact, the closeness had begun to bother her now that she'd had time to think. "But whom, and how would we approach them? Indian Springs is still small enough that it doesn't take much to get tongues flapping."
"At the bank I've got access to information ordinarily not available," Jack said. "Without anyone knowing, I can run checks on people faster and better than the FBI."
"Variety is the spice of life," Harry said in agreement.
That night the two couples slept in or rather occupied the big bed in the red room. Jack Kimble found no need for Pernod or pot.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A solution to the proposed expansion presented itself the next day. Jack and Harry were at work. Beth was acquainting herself with the Rolls and Marcia went along for company. As they drove slowly down the main street of Indian Springs, giving everyone a good chance to gawk, a mini-skirted girl flagged them down from the sidewalk at the town square.
"Laurie Masters," Beth said, puzzled, as she recognized Harry's pert young secretary. "I thought she'd be working today."
She parked and the elfin girl almost ran to the car, the brief dress flaring up to show lacy black panties. Her young pointed breasts jiggled. Breathlessly, she said, "So this is it! I heard about this car as a matter-of-fact, that's why I'm not working this afternoon. The sales boss called me in to do the papers on a rush basis yesterday, so I'm free. Oh, wow!"
"Hop in, honey, and see how the rich people ride," Marcia said, winking. She fit Laurie in the middle, and Beth headed the sleek convertible toward the foothills as the secretary leaned back in the soft, rich leather. The sun was hot, but the speed of the car was enough to cool them, and Marcia said, "Beth, swing by the house, and we'll have a drink."
Laurie's bare, golden-tanned leg brushed Beth's, and as it did, a thought flashed into the tall, shapely brunette's mind.
Casually, she let her hand drop to the sun-warmed thigh and remain there. After a moment, she squeezed lightly and traced little circles with her fingernails. She caught Lauries sudden suspicious glance from the comer of her eye. Laurie leaned toward Marcia and whispered. Marcia whispered back for a minute or two. Beth could see a look of unbelief on the auburn-haired girl's fresh young face as her head swiveled back. Beth increased the intimate pressing of her fingers and felt the soft thighs part. Then Laurie took her hand and drew it up to the damp warmth of her cunt and snuggled closer. When there were no more houses on the winding road, she rested her head on Beth's bare shoulder and began to hum.
They garaged the car and settled in the shade by the pool with tall, cold drinks. Laurie couldn't take her eyes from Beth's prominent breasts or long, tanned perfectly sculpted legs.
"I told Laurie you're a player," Marcia said.
"A rookie, but I'm learning the game," Beth said with a smile.
"I-I never suspected, Mrs. Lansing," the secretary said.
"And I didn't have any idea about you until Marcia told me. And it's Beth, unless I'm in the office, okay?"
They slowly finished their drinks. Then, without a word exchanged, the three beautiful women went upstairs to the red bedroom. They were still there, lazily dreaming in the afterglow of carnal pleasure when Jack came in, trailed by Harry.
"Ho, ho!" Jack Kimble said. "Lo, we have company."
"We've been recruiting," Marcia said flippantly. Harry looked down at the naked body of his elfin secretary and grinned. He'd had some suspicions anyway and was glad to confirm them.
"Did you explain the situation to Laurie all of it?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Kimble and I want in," she said with a wicked, wanton smile and fluttering of her tongue.
"I'm sure you'd be a delightful addition," the banker told Laurie. "But there might be a problem. We thought it would be best to keep this to couples, married or otherwise."
"Well, if I can get a little help, that won't be much of a problem. I'm about to get married to
Bill Barrow, who has the sports shop. And believe me, Bill will go for anything. He knows I go both ways and he likes to watch me with a girl."
"Our kind of guy," Harry Lansing put in.
"What's the problem?" Jack Kimble asked.
"The usual one money. Bill's only had the shop a few months. It's making a good living, but it takes forever to save up for a house and furniture, you know?"
"Buy a mobile home I know a good dealer," Harry injected.
"Just what we had in mind," Laurie replied. "Harry, you know that forty-foot double-wide with all the goodies? The one that's been around so long it's growing moss? You were talking about running a special to get rid of it. Maybe we could swing that."
Harry knew the coach. It was a good one, but the floor plan wasn't right for people with a kid or two, and it was too big for just a couple, unless they had some use for the second bedroom. And it was eating up a lot of flooring money just sitting. He pondered a few minutes and said, "Laurie, if you'd be happy with it, you can have it at the invoice price. Old Easy Terms here will fix up the downstroke."
"Thanks, but no thanks," the miniature girl said.
"You want it for a wedding present?" Harry shot back.
"It isn't last year's model. It's the model from the year before that. It won't book out at invoice now," Laurie said with secretarial efficiency.
"But it's brand new!" Harry protested, sensing he'd lost another argument with a female.
"Harry, give it to the little girl at current book and write the rest off your taxes," Jack Kimble advised. "You can't win."
"What the hell," Harry surrendered. He winked at Laurie Masters. "As long as you're going to be one of the group. You know, I've wanted to ball you ever since you walked into the office job hunting."
"Well," the diminutive beauty said. "Beth -Marcia get the hell out of this bed and give us some fucking room!"
She was good. She was very damn good. Clutching and grabbing and biting wildly, and she had what is known as snappin' turtle pussy.
Later she called Bill Barrow, and her fianc' came over to join them. He was a tall, rangy outdoors type in his early twenties, and in honor of his coming, they put on clothes. He instantly accepted the deal on the mobile home, saying he could use the spare room for an office and write the thing off on his taxes. With a grin he also became an instant member of the group and was suitably initiated.
For the remainder of the week everything went smoothly on all fronts. It was late Friday evening and only Harry was missing from the gathering in the big living room at the Kimble's.
When he came in he was swearing under his breath. He rarely cursed, and when he did, it was with just cause.
"Harry what's happened?" Beth said anxiously.
"This, goddamn it, has happened," he snapped, handing her a telegram. "From the factory that built that monstrous motor home I was so damned glad to get rid of I let you keep the Rolls. Read it!"
Beth took the telegram, skimmed it and began to laugh so hard she could hardly read, but she managed to get through.
Dear Harry Lansing:
Congratulations on sale of our deluxe special built Ridgerunner to famous showbiz personality; you are first dealer in nation to accomplish this. It proves your worth as a member of this organization. In appreciation of your industry and superb salesmanship, we are shipping this date two more units. Again, congratulations.
"Oh, the bastards!" he said through gritted teeth. "The dirty rotten fucking bastards!"
He was still swearing as the three laughing women dragged him to the red bedroom.
