Title: good-time-in-the-burb.txt (MF, wife, exh, couples, swing) Authors name: Willie Duet -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thanks! -------------------------------------------------------- I want you to know, my wife looks good, with a sense of style and taste for every occasion. Sheila knows her colors, her fabrics, and her trends, and is never at a loss for the right accessory. Plus, she has a tight little body and a lot of energy. Nice bottom, good legs, more than two handfuls of boob. She exercises constantly and eats only vegetables. Spices are a big thing with Sheila. I call her the Spice Nazi behind her back. I can’t get that excited about it and frankly I don’t give a damn what she wants to eat. I am not as careful about anything. I wear blue jeans and sweaters a lot, and loafers or deck shoes. And I eat a lot of steak. I am lucky that my energy level is high and it hasn’t caught up to me. One of these days I may clean up my act but just now it is way too much fun to be me and I’m not cutting back. So we don’t go out with other people much, in part because it’s costly and work has been slow enough that we have to cut corners, and in part because we have very different styles around other people. We wind up arguing the next day, or later that night on the way home, if we just go out and don’t actually party. I admit, I can be a dick. Yes, as laid back as I am, when I get to be around people I don’t know well I clam up and she is the opposite, sort of comes unglued around strangers and loses her inhibitions, is actually a little bit in their face. So when she drinks, which happens rarely, the effect is to tone her extroversion down. With me I become more sociable and more likely to engage others. Good deal, a couple of neurotic, social drinkers. Well, we were never without company. My attitude about drinking and drugging is to do as much as makes you feel good but never so much you wish you hadn’t. And take a taxi, so you can enjoy the ride home. With Sheila, she is against getting inebriated, in any way, until she has been out long enough to feel friendly toward the people she’s with. From there on she holds her own and will enjoy a drink. Funny thing is, the next day or two she is as quiet as a mouse and we don’t talk about it. Now you might think it would be easy to get upset, when my wife starts having a great time and disappears for an hour or two, returning with her clothes a little mussed and sometimes missing an item of clothing, like panties or bra. But in truth when I realized the first time this happened that she really did enjoy herself, I decided to roll with it and let myself be excited knowing that she’d just been hammered silly by two healthy young men. “An endless supply of stiffness!” is how she described it, in her breathless confession in the cab going home. I figured out that it was payback. Well, when I know I’ve been a dick I take my medicine. So if we go out I try to make sure that we get past that point where Sheila is still playing Miss Goody Two Shoes. If we hit that point by 8 o’clock at night, let the good times roll; most often we wind up boffing each other into the morning light. If she decides there will be no party, I have learned to keep my expectations in check and be happy with an early night and more sleep. Last Friday was a good night. I got home from work early. Sheila said she had accepted an invitation for us to go over to the Jones’s for a card and pool party. Jones is one of my subcontractors, he does plastering. A large, friendly man is Jones, with great strength in his arms and dexterity in his hands. And Shirley Jones, his wife, is just a lot of fun to be around, a busty blonde with a deep laugh and no shame about her body, not a perfect body, by no means as athletic as my Sheila, actually kind of plump. But boobs, I am talking about a really nice pair. Shirley has no inhibitions, really what I would call negative inhibition (would that be “exhibition”?) when she had something to drink. Or smoke. Jones’s are some of our pot smoking friends. And she likes dirty jokes, which Jones tells for hours on end, in that quiet way that is so disarming. This night, by the magic 8 o’clock Sheila was on her second glass of wine and I knew things would turn out well. Our host had us laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe and I told him he should quit the plaster business and go into comedy. I looked up because he hadn’t heard me, in fact he was listening to something Sheila was telling him. Sheila was getting very chummy with Jones, not that it bothered me, because I had been sitting opposite Shirley and getting a great view of her boobs every time she doubled up in laughter at one of her husband’s jokes. Damned if I was going to stop looking. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Every time she leaned forward I got to see more, and it was obvious she was making it easy for me. We were all very happy to be in each other’s company. I excused myself and on my way to use the bathroom I took a moment to extract illegal substance from my jacket in the guest room. Not one to hold back I set one of them on fire and inhaled the fumes. When I got back to our friends, thinking I would share, it seems that Shirley had had the same idea and was way ahead of me. She said, “Here, try this,” handing me a water pipe already smoldering with the very same material. She traded with me, and we each took a deep inhalation. Wow. The buzz hit me like a plunge into a hot spring. I guess it was the combination of her stuff on top of my stuff. I watched the edge of the room begin to pulsate and spin. Was I hallucinating or had my sweet wife Sheila now undone all but 2 buttons of her shirt? Was Jones casually rubbing his crotch with one hand, caressing himself as he put his arm around my wife’s shoulders? Was that a sigh of contentment that Sheila made snuggling in close to him, and had she pushed his hand away with her own to show him how much better she was at caressing? Was Shirley’s downcast gaze centered on my zipper? And had the overpowering urge to squeeze myself overcome my inhibition so that I was now doing just that, in full view of these people? I wasn’t hallucinating. It was all happening. Nobody spoke as the bong went round the room. Sheila, obviously enjoying herself, took a puff in her turn. I didn’t notice when Shirley left to turn up the volume on the music and dim the lights. She came back doing a little bump and grind for us. Actually she was facing me, because my wife and Jones were sitting together. They weren’t paying either of us any attention. Jones had his paw thrust up under Sheila’s blouse, squeezing her chest. My sweet wife slipped down on the floor between his legs and as naturally as if it was me she wrapped her arms over his knees and asked him to rub her shoulders. Which he did, taking special care to work under the fabric of her mostly unbuttoned blouse so that soon she was bare shouldered, and her head was lolling back from being so relaxed. Shirley caught my eye, and with a toss of her head beckoned me as she moved casually out into the next room. I followed her, seeing that Sheila and Jones were doing just fine together. I found a chair facing Shirley and to my delight she resumed her strip tease. Every time she came close I’d run my hand up the inside of her leg, a little higher each time, and the higher I slid my hand the longer she stayed close. A little more smoke, a little more wine, and Shirley had taken off her panties, doing this great routine that somehow made the panties slide down over her thighs. Her hips would do kind of a roll and a snap at the end, making me think what it would be like if I were on top of her. She balanced on one foot and with the other, flipped the panties up in the air and they landed on my face. I breathed in the scent of her and wanted to lick her. Something was undeniably hard in my pants knowing that Shirley and I were going to become a lot more intimate. And I thought, ok, I’m betting that Sheila’s half undressed now too. So I looked over my shoulder into the other room. My wife had shed some clothing under Jones’s expert fingers. Oh yes, she was bare on top, and she had her arms looped over his thighs and she was first looking up at him, now looking down at his big hands working her front. I looked back at Shirley who was also taking it all in, a big smile across her face. Well, I didn’t feel like spoiling the mood or the good vibes, so I said to Shirley that I thought we should check out the hot tub, standing up with a bulge in my jeans. And with that she took my hand and led me out to the deck and behind us I heard the sound of Jones’s zipper and a little gasp of delight from Sheila. I looked again to see my wife moving up off the floor and onto the couch. My clothes were coming off fast. When Shirley and I got into the tub I caught sight of Sheila dropping her skirt on the coffee table and getting down between Jones’s legs. I saw something of his standing up in her small hand as she put her mouth over it. My hips jerked a little, thinking how sexy that looked. Shirley and I were in the water, naked, and like Sheila, Shirley had her attention on the thing in front of her. I kept my position standing and she asked me if I wouldn’t like some help with that. She gave me a wonderful blow job. Shirley looked great to me, her eyes unfocussed and her cheeks slightly hollowed in. I was caressing her nipples, wondering if Shirley would draw the line at intercourse, when I looked up just in time to see Sheila going down on her back, her legs apart, helping Jones stow away his favorite tool. It stood out straight and hard. For a moment he worked it against her and Sheila thrashed her head from side to side, moaning about how good it felt. Then something fit together all at once and the space between them disappeared. Short, gentle strokes turned slower and deeper and my wife and he abandoned all pretense of modesty. If I weren’t playing with the very sexy Shirley I’d have been depressed seeing my Sheila getting a royal screwing; but as it was everything came up in the right order after all. I sat down and drew Shirley onto my lap, feeling her legs go around my waist and her hand making sure that we also fit right together. In a second we were holding tight, belly to belly, my face at her chest, her bottom bouncing up and down on my lap, making some hot romantic moves. The four of us stayed awake until 4 AM, trading partners in an endless rotation of natural selection fueled by the strangeness, the wine and the drugs. It was like a movie, and I have to say I got off watching Sheila resuscitating Jones’s poor tired old tool, putting her pretty mouth over the end of it. She worked on him with her tongue and lips and he got it back in shape, hard and straight. Then of course they performed the magic act again to make it disappear. Not to be outdone Shirley showed me the trick and we made our act last even longer. Once you start with those magic acts you don’t want to stop. When we at last got home Sheila and I did one more exercise, a nice wet one. In the middle of it I asked her if she’d known that Jones’s were swingers. So casually she said, oh yeah, she had known for about a year. “Remember that party last year, the one where Shirley and me were the only women? And it was you and Jones and the four guys from his crew? And you had to go back to work? And you didn’t get home until the next morning? Didn’t you wonder? What happened? What do you think happened? I thought you knew, babe.” I was deep involved, motionless, my personal tool bathed in the wetness of multiple performances with two men filling her special place. Down there she was highly stimulated and sensitive, and something of hers was pressed against my pubic bone. An overpowering urge gripped me and I started to stroke in and out, driven by the image of her sucking on Jones. I managed to ask, “What, happened? Tell me!” I knew the answer, knew what she would say, knew exactly what had happened and it was making me so hot. I felt like I belonged to that special club of men who love women who can’t be happy with just one Dick in their life. She was humping right back, her legs wrapped around me, her eyes blank with lust, her breath interrupting her words. I raised my self up and squeezed her tits, rolling the nipples, feeling their stiffness. She squealed with the pleasure of our joining. “We all got loaded. I mean, once you left, Shirley brought out the dope, and hey, I didn’t mind, it was nice. And we started dancing, me and Shirley, for the guys. And she took off her top. And it only seemed right that I should take mine off too. I mean, she has nice tits, but mine are better. I did it as a treat. The guys loved seeing them. And one thing led to another. I mean, they liked the strip tease so well, I just kept going. Til I was in the buff. And so turned on, that I needed to, you know. You know what I mean. I was horny, I needed something, a nice hard one. And that’s what I got, a nice hard tool. And then another, and another. One after another. All of them, all five of ‘em, one after the other, and some of them twice.” I was losing control. The images were too much, the truth was turning me on. I could see her in my imagination, getting nailed. I imagined the lust in the room, the guys putting their hands and mouths and private parts to her body. I let go of her boobs and looped my arms through her knees and started banging her, long, deep strokes. I looked down at myself, sliding in and out of her. “You did it. All of them, you pulled a train, you got with all of them. Like you did me and Jones tonight.” She was smiling, licking her lips at the remembered pleasure, reveling in the memory and the pleasure of the past and the present. “Yes, I did. We gave them all blow jobs. I started with Jones, cause he was the host, and I knew Shirley wouldn’t mind. And pretty soon the other guys watching had their dicks out, stroking them. I said, hey, what about us girls. And we had those 5 beautiful hard men, ready to go. And so we did ‘em all. We had a party. We rode each one until they couldn’t get it up. It was so good, and I didn’t care, if you found out, or what you would think, all I wanted was more. All I could think about was how good it felt, and how there was always another one getting hard, to replace the one I had. Are you sad?” I started to come, I couldn’t talk. I felt my insides squeezing out what little moisture was left inside of me, waves of pleasure rolling through my middle, as our bodies bucked and bounced together. Sheila was getting off too, big time. I had never released my tension so thoroughly or felt so completely drained. When we were done I rolled over onto my back and held her close. I asked her if I looked like I was upset. “Baby, that was so good. Tonight was incredible. If it turned you on as much as it turned me on, we need to keep doing this. OK?” “You know it turned me on. You know I like it, don’t you? I mean, there have been other times, that happened. Times you didn’t know about.” She was smirking, and incredibly my body was rising to attention again. I knew of course that I had been fooled, but I didn’t mind. Obviously, it was a huge turn on, for both of us. We kept talking, our fingers busy and in a matter of fact way, like we were setting the table or doing laundry, she got on her hands and knees, I climbed on and banged her some more. Since this happened we do it more often than ever before. We can’t get enough. We think of it as our contribution to world peace and understanding. Sometimes I go to the parties at Jones’s, and sometimes not. Sometimes I just watch, or take Shirley into the back bedroom and we have sex by ourselves. The pot is great, the vibes are perfect, and everybody gets off. Of course, the STD’s, the drug arrests, the open hostility from the neighbors, and the lost weekends are all a little hard to take. It’s a darn good thing that contracting is booming, cause we all need as much cash as we can get to pay for all the expenses that go with this wild and crazy life. If you think this is a good way to live I can recommend an excellent shrink and a couple of MD’s who have the latest treatment options for a big long list of illnesses. Willie Duet * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to read stories about unprotected sex. But you're playing with trouble if you actually do it other than with a trusted partner. Be safe, don't be sorry! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *