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OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES: "FLORIDA HEAT"

By Bill													

This is the the first of a series of events covering one and one half years 
of our married life.  Each story is essentially true, just as it happened. 
All names have been changed.

CHAPTER 1

	We were vacationing on Florida's west coast when I suggested to 
Ellen that she should date others.  After 8 years of marriage, we'd had no
serious arguments, but now she was irritated.

	We were discussing this a half hour before sunset while we were
in our swim wear, washing our Porsche on the narrow strip of grass
separating the rented house and the beach.  She calmed down, then
laughed, convinced that his wasn't a ploy to allow me to fool around.
She'd been so opposed to the suggestion that I was surprised when she
finally caved in, agreeing, "O-kay, Bill. I'll consider it. But it's a 
dumb idea."

	I breathed liked I'd just run a mile and said, "All I ask is that 
you tell me about the dates." She smirked doubtfully, but her eyes were
telling me that her anger had been supplanted by an excited imagination.
Before we'd married, Ellen had been a beach wear and cosmetics model. A
daughter of a Presbyterian minister, she didn't smoke and had never drunk
alcohol.  Now, thanks to dieting and Bally, her measurements were the 
same as when I'd met her.  She's 5'8", has waist-length black hair,
the rare color of brilliant, gray eyes, and a figure that turns men's
heads. Here in her white string bikini, she looked even more appealing.

	The car now shined like new. I was lifting the portable vacuum
when we glanced toward a young blond man, his fist gripping a sketch
pad as he walked up from the beach. He was wearing a light blue
button-down shirt with epaulets and khaki safari slacks. He introduced
himself as Greg, an art student at a local college. He asked
directions to a nearby diner. With his tall, lithe body and tanned
face, he looked more like a surfer than an artist.

	Bending to pick up the chamois and her white hip-length terry
robe, Ellen smiled. She was appraising Greg's handsome features. Her
nervous blush looked like an advanced case of sunburn. She tossed me a
quizzical nod. I picked up her cue and grinned toward Greg, "We 
 haven't eaten either." Turning to Ellen, I blurted, "How about
inviting this starving student over for dinner?"

	Ellen beamed, agreeing enthusiastically, "Terrific idea,"
and turning to Greg, offered, "How about lobster?"

	He declined politely, but upon Ellen's urging, finally nodded
affirmatively, "Lobster sounds great. Thanks." I walked behind Greg. His 
gaze followed Ellen's tall, beach-robed figure up the pebbled
flagstones to the back door. In the dimly lit kitchen, Ellen slipped
on her white high-heeled pumps, accentuating her long legs.  
 7   3                     

	Although shy, Greg turned frequently to look at her as she
prepared dinner. He was living with two roommates in a rented duplex
two blocks from the college.  He knew little about sports, and I knew

even less about art; so the conversation was strained until Ellen 
joined us.  After dinner, she took a shower, then returned in a low-
cut dark blue robe to sit on the floor between me in a chair and Greg
on the couch. She was wearing nothing beneath the satiny material
that clung to her body, contouring her nipples.

	I set chips and dip on the rattan coffee table and opened a
bottle of white wine for Greg and me and a diet soda for Ellen. There
was no mistaking the sexual electricity irradiating between them.
Their eyes locked as they exchanged stories of their lives "before
Florida."  His gaze fell now and then to her bared leg and to the
smooth midnight-blue material that exposed the pale sides of her
breasts.

	Occasionally a word would catch in their throats. Both swallowed
in excitation when their hands brushed as she offered him potato
chips, her hand lingering to touch his. Because Greg was lean and 
hardened, I doubted that he usually ate snacks. But now, he didn't
refuse any, allowing him another opportunity to caress her hand.

	She asked him to teach her some basic sketching rules, suggesting
that they do so in what Floridians called the "Florida room." In Long
Island, we called it a den. She preceded him into the room, tuned the
stereo to a soft FM station, then came out to search for a bottle of
champagne and two glasses. She whispered her plan to me. She returned
to Greg, closing the door.

	As she suggested, I slipped out of the house, drove the car a
block away, locked it, and sprinted back to an area between the
darkened hedge and the Florida room's broad shuttered window. All
other lights in the house were now turned off. The summer heat had
allowed us to keep the glass shutters open, so I could almost everything
they said.

	I was wondering how she'd handle champagne as I watched her
sipping her half-empty glass. She was curled alongside him on the
couch. Their conversation diminished to whispers and soft laughter.
She glanced beyond the window but was unable to see me in the
darkness. Turning to Greg, she pursed her lips and inquired, "Do you
like to dance?" When he murmured he didn't know how to slow-dance,
she offered to teach him. He accepted. His speech was slurred from 
the champagne's intoxication.

	She turned the dimmer switch. A soft glow bathed the room as
she held out her hand, beckoning him. They swayed together, her cheek
brushing his.

	He stroked her hair. He held her a moment after the second song
ended, then turned away to drink the last of his champagne.

	Ellen's face was flushed now. Her soft lips trembled with fear  
 7   3                     
and passion as she danced slowly with Greg. She swallowed nervously,
glancing to his engorged manhood surging beneath his slacks. Another
melody drifted from the stereo. She closed her eyes as he reached for
her. The tips of her fingers traced a sensuous path down his neck. Her
tremorous mouth formed an "oh" as her lips touched his. Ellen's hips
were gyrating in eager passion.

	Greg opened her robe, sliding it from her shoulders. Her nipples
were erect. Her body trembled in excitation as the robe fluttered to
the floor. She blushed as he pulled her to him, his lips crushing hers.

	Ellen's hands tremored as she removed his shirt. Her legs
shaking, she sank to her knees to unbuckle his belt. She pulled his
slacks down his long legs, her full lips brushing his chest and stomach.

	The largest member she'd ever seen burst free. She gulped
fearfully, her eyes widened in disbelief.

	Now, on her knees and cringing in terrified awe as Greg's long
cock swayed before her, she looked like a sacrificial virgin worshiping
at a serpentine altar.

	Shuddering, she licked her crimson lips. Her full pale breasts
were rippling with passion. I could feel the desire radiating between
them as her mouth strained to encircle his shaft that was curving up
from the tuft of blond pubic hair. Ellen was moaning. Her hips were
rolling back and forth like waves on the beach.

	Greg gaped at his glistening manhood. The fullness of her lips
glided along its length. As he glanced to the pulsing blue numbers of
a shelf-top's digital clock, he tremored, "What if your husband returns
early from work?"

	She muttered, her soft voice quaking, "He won't. He works near
Tampa Bay and won't be home until eight in the morning."

	He lifted her from the floor, then lowered her to the couch, 
tasting her melon-like breasts. He sucked each firm, reddened nipple
until they stood out like spikes. Her face was burning, her breath
hissing like a radiator.

	Ellen pressed her breast's soft ripeness against his face, her
cries of pleasure piercing the room's air. She squeezed his cock, its
purple, bulbous head surging inches beyond the breadth of her small
fist. Mewing in ardor, she had forgotten that I was watching.

	I envied Greg's length. My shaft was now as hard as his as I
unzipped and pulled it from my slacks, pumping slowly.

	He pushed her trembling legs apart. Her pale coral mound
pulsated. I realized then that she'd shaved her public hair while in
the shower.

	His lips grazed her swollen clitoris, causing her body to 
shimmy. She rotated her smoothness against his mouth as he moved up  
 7   3                     
her body.  And finally, his tongue was twirling against hers.

	My chest heaved in excitement as he mounted her.

	Her body shivered, her eyes following the downward path of 
his shaft. Her eager cunt quivered upward to touch the intrusive member.
She moaned. Tears of pleasure pooled in her eyes as his broad cock-head
pushed through her creaming cuntal folds. Her fervid tunnel now engulfed
his shaft as she hissed, "Oh GOD! I'm on FIRE!" Her tremoring thighs
thighs caressed his back, reeling him in.

	And then, she was wailing with lust. He pistoned deep within 
her. Ellen thrashed her head from side to side. Her hips swirled as 
she reveled in his heated fucking. Swinging her legs around his 
shoulders, she pressed her back against the cushions, squealing, her
eyes glistening with tears. Her face registered surprise with each
steaming entry of his massive cock. Her voice quavering, she 
whimpered, "Oh, GOD! GREG! I've never FELT like this!"

	Thrusting into her quaking pussy, Greg was immersed in the
culmination of their lust. His jaw slackened. His chest heaved as he
looked down on her rolling eyes. He moaned unintelligible noises I
could remember making as a young marine fucking women who were never
as gorgeous as Ellen! I couldn't have imagined being with a woman that
beautiful! A MARRIED woman!

	Her body shimmied. Unable to tear her eyes away from the 
monstrous cock ramming into her shaved pussy, she cried, "Oh Greg,
I LOVE your cock! God HELP me! I LOVE FUCKING YOU!"

	I was drugged with a time-stilling sensation as she rolled,
pulling Greg beneath her.

	Straddling him, she slowly impaled herself on his cock, her
fiery well of passion sucking in his long steaming poker.

	Gaping at her cuntal folds enveloping his firm manhood as she
bucked against him, Greg murmured, "I love it too, Ellen. I love 
fucking YOU!"

	I now leaned against the window so closely, I could smell the
perspiration steaming from their inflamed bodies. I was stroking my
elongated member in rhythm with my heart, which was thumping like a
sledgehammer.
	
	Greg disengaged. Pushing Ellen to her knees on the carpet, he
mounted her from the rear. She reached behind, allowing her trembling
fingers to stroke his length. Feeling his enormous hardness, she 
cried out in yearning!

	She braced her arms against the carpet, spreading her knees
to accommodate the large tool entering her cunt. She gasped. Her
mouth and eyes widened as he pushed deeper. She was shuddering, 
aflame with desire. Her voice quaking, she pleaded, "Oh, JESUS, Greg!
GIVE it to me! I NEED your cock!" With tears streaming down her face,  
 7   3                     
she pleaded for every inch of the monster that was thrusting deep
into her lubricated pussy. Although he was entering her for the second
time, she squealed, "Oh GOD! You're splitting me APART!" Her eyes were
wild, her body flaming in a crimson blush. But when he'd sunk his 
shaft its full length, she wailed, "Oh, YES! Greg! YES-S-S!"

	Now, as they united in blazing passion, she was sobbing. They
were thrashing about like hellish demons. The yolks of her eyes
rolled. She fucked back against him wildly in long strokes, shuddering
as his large balls slapped the mounds of her buttocks. I'd never seen
Ellen so overcome with lust!

	The sheer joy of watching them was incredible! Until that night,
I'd never heard my wife swear, but now, white hot with passion, she
was brazenly pleading, "Oh GOD DAMN! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, GREG! OH JESUS!"
Ellen was rolling her head in wide circles. Her eyes told me she felt
the onrushing orgasm that would soon overtake them. The smell of their
sex permeated the warm night air.

	And then Greg, his face contorted, was shrieking, "I'm coming!
Oh, GOD!" He lifted his head high and groaned, increasing his tempo.

	Her soft lips oval-ed with each entry. Ellen was positively
radiant as she turned to look at him. His hips hammered the roundness
of her buttocks. She matched each thrust as she told him, "Oh, GOD! 
It's so GREAT, Greg! Come WITH me! I LOVE it! I love YOU! Oh yes, I
LOVE YOU!" Her blissful moans registered the expectant orgasm. Even
Greg and I could feel the explosion building within her.

	And then it came! The sexual thunder was surging through them
like an avalanche. She shut her eyes tightly as they sobbed in unison,
their bodies and minds intertwined in cosmic eruptions.

	I was coming for an eternity. I hadn't realized how loudly
I'd groaned until moments later when Greg walked over to lean against
the back of the couch and peer out the window. He was startled a 
moment but then grinned, "I didn't know you were still here. Was it
o-kay?" He was asking for my approval, not whether I'd enjoyed it.

	I zipped my fly. "I'd asked Ellen to give herself to you. I
hope you don't feel used."

	He breathed, "I've never had a greater gift."

	I believed him. I walked to the door. Ellen greeted me, her
gray eyes ablaze in lust. Her breath huffed in short bursts as she
removed my clothes. Grasping Greg's and my shafts, she led us to the
shower. A dim light filtered through the door from the hallway. 
Beneath the pounding water, our mouths and tongues pleasured Ellen
until the water heater gave up. Now, burning with desire, we toweled
off and stumbled to the bedroom. Ellen took turns with us until,
finally exhausted, she crawled to Greg, placed her elbows on his chest
and looked into his eyes as if in worship. "I love you," she told him
as she stroked my cock behind her. "I love Bill, but I also love YOU.
Can you understand that?"  I wasn't jealous. Her revelation told me  
 7   3                     
just how much the experienced had meant to her.

	I wish I could say that we were with Greg many more times, but
we left our vacation cottage the next day. A letter we'd mailed to
Greg was returned, stamped "Addressee has moved. Current address
unknown." 

	However, the experience changed our lives. As things turned
out, she met two other young men who reminded her a great deal of 
Greg - David who lives near us, and Brad who visited us with his
parents from Long Island. But those are Ellen's stories, and she
wants to tell you herself.

	Only later did I realized my desire to share Ellen had long
been within me. My voyeuristic tendencies, the pleasure I have from
other men enjoying her beauty, were manifestations of this. I think
I relive my original attraction to her through other men. Ellen now
admits she enjoys our lifestyle, somehow understanding that I'd
always taken pride in watching others admire her. It's not just to
please me; she loves being fucked by other men - and when possible -
allowing me to watch.

	Even now, a year later, each seduction is a unique experience.
With each liaison, another threshold is crossed - into what Ellen
describes as the land of mega-lust.  As bizarre as our lives may seem
to others, the arrangement has had an interesting side effect. I
haven't once considered cheating. 

	Frankly, affairs with other women could never be as exciting.
 
*********************************************************************
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2: "VISIT NOW THE FIRE" 
*********************************************************************

OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES: "Visit Now the Fire"
By Ellen
CHAPTER 2

	People who move to Florida learn to expect visitors from the
north. Early this summer, friends whom Bill and I had known in Long 
Island visited us for three days. Darryl and Rita are the only couple
to whom we have confided that Bill and I have an "open marriage."

	With them was their beautifully blond son, Brad, who at 6'4" is 
an inch taller than Bill. Talented academically and athletically, Brad
was now in his second year of a community college basketball
scholarship. I learned later he was a rare breed of another type, a
virgin.

	The day before they were to drive on to Key West on the narrow,
120-mile-long highway above the Atlantic, we boated, waterskiied, and
swam in our lake. After a late evening backyard picnic, Darryl and
Rita were exhausted, trudging off to bed at ten p.m.

	Brad joined Bill and me for our nightly two-mile jog through the
neighborhood. At the outer edge of a street lamp's yellow glow a few
blocks away, Brad told me my elastic headband was tearing and about to
break. We stopped as I removed it. Bill didn't notice we'd dropped
back until he was a block away; so he waited for us to catch up.

	Brad retied the elastic strands. As he replaced it, he 
accidentally brushed by cut-off tee shirt, feeling the softness of my
breasts. His face reddened beneath the street lamp's glare as he
apologized, "Sorry, Ellen." He stretched the band around my hair.

	As his fingers brushed my ears longer than necessary, his eyes
darted across my bare midriff.

	I smiled appreciatively, biting my lower lip. I began to realize 
how handsome Brad was. He was the type of young man every twelve-
year old boy would want to emulate, the perfect basketball star for
a movie studio's central casting.

	We caught up with Bill, Brad running a little behind me, then me
behind Bill.

	When we returned to the house, I noticed that Brad's manhood had
swelled, curving up beneath his running shorts. His member seemed
extraordinarily long, but I assumed this to be an illusion of the
loose folds of his shorts. I think Brad saw me glance down at his
hardness as I muttered, "Good night. See you in the morning."

	We went upstairs. As I walked from the shower behind Bill to our
bedroom, I noticed Brad had left the door to his room open. Darryl and
Rita were in the downstairs bedroom. Brad's room was next to ours.

	In bed, I whispered to Bill what I'd observed.

	He grinned, telling me he'd noticed Brad had a semi-erection that
afternoon while watching me waterski or just walk around in my string
bikini. Bill added, "I'm sure you're right about his length. I even
think that Tom's nine inches might be dwarfed by Darryl's and Rita's
son." I smiled at the mention of Tom, an employee of Bill's who'd 
served under Bill in the marines; the length of Tom's manhood had long
been a topic he'd been kidded about. Bill went on, "I'd assumed the 
reason Brad was running behind us was just to admire your figure."

	Bill's a "watcher" who enjoys watching me engage in adultery with
other men - or just telling him about occasional dates I have with
Bill's permission. Although that had been Bill's idea at first, I now
adore this arrangement. But, I sometimes feel a bit guilty when I consider
that Bill hasn't once been with another woman.

	Never one to miss an opportunity, Bill rose from bed quietly and
opened our bedroom door. He returned to bed, dialed our own phone
number, clicked down the receiver-button, and waited for the telephone
to ring.  Of course, all one receives when doing this is a telephone
company recording telling the caller that he's dialed his own number.

	Bill "answered" the imaginary caller, then murmured a few business-
like remarks. He concluded with, "Sure, I can come down to the 
warehouse." Hanging up, he explained with a wink, "My employees found
some inventory problems. The comptroller says I should be at 
warehouse-supply while they finish up the count. I'll call you on our
bedroom line before I come home at seven a.m. to make sure I don't
wake anyone too early." Bill was perfect. Brad heard every word.

	Bill drove a block away, parked the car, quietly reentered the
house through the back door, and climbed the stairs with the grace of a
cat to our room. Whispering his plan, he positioned himself behind
the door to our walk-in closet.

	As he suggested, I let my nightgown puddle onto the floor, 
pulled my transparent white negligee over my nudity and walked past
Brad's open door to the bath. I brushed my teeth, clanked around a few
bottles to make sure Brad heard, then walked back down the hallway.

	When I was in front of Brad's door, I turned casually to the
window, my back to Brad, to look out over our large oak tree to 
the lake. I glimpsed the window's glass reflection; Brad sat up,
watching me from his bed. I was hoping he would find some reason to
join me in the hallway.

	I waited less than a minute. Brad would later tell me he was 
burning with passion as he lay naked on his bed, staring through his
door, his long erect manhood pushing his sheet a foot toward the
ceiling.

	I untied the ribbons at the neck of my transparent negligee,
allowing it to fall open. The warm wind shuddered the leaves of the
old oak tree, causing a branch to brush against the window pane. I
heard a squeak, then a shuffle as he rose from his bed.

	He padded into the moonlit hallway, a large, bright red towel
wrapped around his hips. Pretending he didn't know I'd been standing
there, he apologized, "Oh, sorry, Ellen. I was just going to the
bath." His engorged member was curving upward, pushing the crimson
towel out an unbelievable length, straight toward me!

	I turned, nervously. My nudity was revealed through the 
negligee's open sheerness.

	Brad stared down, whispering as his eyes surveyed my body, "What
time is it?" His sexual tension was palpable.

	I whispered softly, "Eleven-thirty. Beautiful view of the water from
here, isn't it?" My throat pulsated. I gulped, staring at the form of 
his large penis protruding beneath the towel.

	His eyes glinted. He responded with strained casualness, "Yes,
everything's beautiful here."

	We whispered small talk, each pretending not to notice the
other's nudity, yet fearfully aware of the other's forbidden
excitation. I placed my hand on his warm, muscular shoulder as we
looked out the window. Finally, his arm slithered softly around my
waist, beneath my negligee. I exhaled, gasping at the electricity as
his warm nakedness touched mine.

	And there we stood, talking in low voices about the moonlit
scene, each knowing we shouldn't, while pretending we weren't. Tremors
rippled through our bodies. I stretched and yawned, my fingers 
brushing his towel-covered manhood. The towel bounced wildly! Until 
then, I'd convinced myself that his size was an illusion. Now, I 
gasped in fear!

	I murmured, my voice quaking, "Sweet dreams, Brad. I'm going to
bed." My throat was choked with desire. I kissed him, motherly-like,
on a cheek. My bared breast brushed the smoothness of his shoulder. I
was breathless as I walked shakily to my bedroom, my knees trembling.

	He entered the bath, ran a couple of minutes of water, and padded
softly back toward his room. He could see me laying on my side, nude,
at the hallway's end through my open door.

	Brad lingered in the hall until deciding I was asleep. He walked
to my door. Removing the flame-red towel, he draped it over a
shoulder. He swallowed nervously as he surveyed my curves. His chest
was heaving, both with fear of being caught and boyish excitement. His
incredible hardness curved upward, bobbing in excitation. I'm sure he
felt cleverly successful, sneaking this sight of my nudity as he
leaned against the door jamb.

	I don't often think about my looks, but I'm aware that my face
and body are what others consider beautiful. I realized the effect
that this was having on this incredibly naive boy. Shuddering I gazed
through half-closed eyelids at his wide shoulders and the lengthy cock
curving up from his thick patch of blond hair. As if tossing in my
sleep, I stretched out my right leg, pushing my left knee toward him.
I bent my left arm along my side to allow him the full view of my
breasts and shaved mound.

	His jaw sagged. His eyes widened. He gazed upon my body, shadowed
in stripes by the moonlight spilling through the Venetian blinds. His
cock twitched. He pressed his hands against the door jamb as if he were
about to faint.

	I rolled to my back and whispered, my voice shaking, "Come in,
Brad."
	
	He was flustered at being discovered until realizing that my own
passions throbbed with the erotic intensity of his own. He walked in
softly, closing and locking the door. He sat alongside me, asking,
"You don't mind?"

	Did I MIND! ME? In the unquenchable flames of throbbing passion?
Oh sure, I did. My body was beyond control. Hell's fire was coursing
through my veins. I remembered a fleeting memory of my grandmother
telling me when I was young girl, how our family's gray-eyed 
ancestors were once believed to be witches. I knew I couldn't have
been a witch; witches purportedly could control the supernatural. I
couldn't even control my own exploding desire!

	My full lips quivered as I looked upon the largest cock I'd ever
seen, curving up like a Turkish scepter from Brad's absolutely perfect
body. How could a woman MIND! I was being offered the opportunity to
worship at the serpentine alter of his perfect bodily temple.

	Radiating with passion, I moaned, reaching for the magnificent
instrument bobbing before me.
	
	My fingers didn't meet as my hand curved around its rubbery
thickness. My face burned madly as I gazed upon the incredible
manhood I was squeezing.

	My body was now ablaze! I was wide-eyed with fear and passion.
With trembling hands, I stroked his monstrous hardness. My quivering
lips parted as he leaned to kiss me.

	He murmured, a tremor in his tight voice, "I've never been with a
woman. You're so beautiful." It was as if he were apologizing for his
shaking, his white-hot passion as evident as my own.

	I glanced to the closet door Bill had left ajar. I was unable to
see my husband, but I knew he would now be feeling my own mad desire, 
pumping his hardened cock in the closet's darkness.

	I closed my eyes as I relished Brad's hands exploring the soft
curves of my body. My nipples tingled as his lips closed around a
hard reddened spike. Impassioned fear churned in my stomach. I gasped
as his slippery tongue twisted and winded its way to my shaved mound.

	Thrusting my hips to his face, I grinded my softness against his 
mouth, my heart pounding a wanton drum beat as his tongue twirled over
my clitoris. I wailed at the thrills rippling through me like an
electric current coursing across a thunder-laden sky. Tears of joy
streaked along my cheeks. Clasping my thighs around his ears, I dug my
heels into his back as fiery explosions blossomed within.

	I pulled him above me until his knees were straddling my breasts.
He braced his arms against the headboard. My lips encircled his rubbery
monster, my head bobbing as my tongue glided along its length. Now,
beyond lust, I was WORSHIPING  this broad, purplish cock thrusting
down my throat.

	His hips hammered his instrument into my mouth until my passion
was unbearable. The bulging veins throbbed against the walls of my
mouth.

	My voice was muffled by his broad sword. I pleaded, "Mphhh! Please,
Brad, I WANT you!"  He pressed my back into the rustling warm folds of
soft sheets. My full breasts rippled beneath his touch.

	Red coals of passion smoldered in my vagina. My hips gyrated
expectantly. My long legs now opened, eagerly inviting the marbled
curvature of his cock that hovered above the lips of my vagina. 
Realizing the length and breadth of this incredible manhood, I was
whimpering with fright at it invaded my cuntal folds.

	I cried! He was splitting me apart!

	Shocks rippled through my groin as he pressed on, expanding my
vaginal walls. Yet, I'd rather have died than have him stop now. I
was loving every inch of the massive locomotive puffing through my
smoking tunnel.

	Brad was clearly aware of my difficulty, although I sobbed as
much in pleasure as in pain. Then, he was as far into my gushing
depths as he could push. His manhood was throbbing as he moved with
my rhythm. I wailed as he rode me with a fury!

	I whimpered, "It's so WONDERFUL!" My cunt was now burning in the
forbidden fires, my pain disappearing, supplanted by pleasure. My long
legs, toned by months of running and swimming, enveloped his smooth
torso as my cunt rose to meet his steaming thrusts. My depths had
never been so filled! Tears streaked across my cheeks like rivulets of
rain on the windshield of a speeding car. My ankles locked around his
strong back. My blinding passion mounted ever higher.

	In the stunning thrills of Brad's fucking, I'd forgotten Bill.
But as I thrashed my head side to side, I glimpsed my husband's nude
form step from the closet to watch the magnificent weapon invading my
quivering cunt. Bill was transfixed by the awesomely erotic sight. 
Logic and will abandoned me. I was far too lost in this passionate
hurricane to acknowledge my husband by smiling at him as I normally
would while he pumped his engorged cock.
	
	Brad's eyes rolled as he plunged into my poised cunt. I opened
my mouth widely as if this could expand my channel further to accept 
his final inches.

	As Bill stared, his jaw sagged. He was pumping his full length
furiously as Brad and I pulsated with an inner radiance toward an
impending explosion. My husband's eyes told me that his mind and
Brad's were now one.

	Brad's flames were now united with mine into a blazing inferno.
Our eyes were glazed. We shuddered with each quaking thrust.

	The awesome orgasm was rushing toward us like an avalanche!

	Sobbing, I mewed, "Oh! FUCK me! FUCK me! FUCK ME-E-E-E!" My
will was immersed beneath raging tides that coursed through my body.
I screamed, "Oh, god HELP me, Brad! I LOVE you, Brad! I LOVE YOU!" I
loved him, loved in adultery. Uniting in flesh that which was now in
our minds and souls. The onrushing orgasm gathered force like a 
runaway tornado. I pulled him tighter with my legs, lurching my hips
against his. He rammed his tool to the hilt, crushing my clitoris
against the base. I screamed, "Oh, JESUS! I FEEL it! You're in so FAR!
I WANT you blasting within me!"

	And then, oh GOD, it HAPPENED! In a blinding flash, we were
coming in thunderous waves, bursting in a supernova of pleasure. I
went wild with joy. His warm fluids burst within me.

	My mind was exploding in fiery fragments that spider-legged like
a million falling stars across the evening skies.

	Brad lay across my breasts in the blissful afterglow of our
adultery, our arms intertwined for an eternity of a half-minute until
I remembered Bill.

	Bill had returned to the closet and closed the door. Because of
my now unquenchable desire, my husband would have to remain there
until morning. Brad was mine alone for that incredible night.

	Brad turned me to my knees, my hands braced on our headboard. His
massive member was entering my vagina from the rear.

	I turned to stare, awed by his long cock. Watching the instrument
pushing deeply into my excitedly lubricated cunt, I spread my knees
ever wider. The breadth of his penis filled me. I sobbed in pleasure,
my hand tremoring as I caressed his length behind me.

	He slowly thrust into me until I was whimpering with pleasure,
"I love you, Brad! I LOVE you!" And then, he was riding me wildly! I
was screaming like a helpless victim on a runaway roller coaster, the
yolks of my eyes rolling.

	I sucked in my breath at the stunning sensations. As he fucked
into my depths, I stared back, my lips wide with wonder. I couldn't
tear my vision from the magnificent cock that was skewering me! We
shared a sigh.

	His manhood was growing even greater, expanding in the oncoming
orgasm like gas in an overfilled balloon. I gasped. My clitoris 
fluttered as if to tell me we would be coming together in a mind
shattering finale! My back arched expectantly as my long nails dug
into his hips behind me. I could feel every throbbing inch as he
plunged through my inflamed walls.

	And then we were exploding in rapture! Crying with wild abandon,
I shuddered amid the earthquaking climax. His hot semen burst through
my channel. The creamy fluid splattered my inner walls, washing over
his cock. He waserupting like a volcano with no end to its molten flow 
of lava. A starburst of pleasure exploded within my body.

	He didn't stop, nor did I want him to! Brad fucked me
voraciously for hours in every imaginable position. He was the first
person to ever outlast my stamina. Until that night, I thought that I
was insatiable.

	Finally in the predawn, I collapsed in complete gratification.

	Brad sneaked back into his room. He was still asleep when 
Darryl and Rita awakened at ten a.m.

	And yet, the greatest surprise of their visit came just after
breakfast. Rita and I had walked out to the boathouse for a
conversation before they packed to leave. She smiled, "Thank you for
what you did for Brad last night."

	I was shocked, unable to respond. Rita placed a gentle hand
on my arm and added, "No, I mean it. Brad has been completely 
engrossed in clubs, basketball, and school for six years. Darryl and
I were worried that he might be impotent. Or even gay.

	"And we knew you and Bill lead this open-marriage type life. 
We were hoping that this would happen. We'd talked about it for weeks
before our visit. Darryl and I went up to Brad's room about midnight.
We saw he wasn't there. Then we heard Brad's moaning from your bedroom."

	She smiled softly. "I have to admit that Darryl was leaning
against the door for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes. We heard you
say to Brad that Bill was at the plant until morning." She sighed,
wistfully, remembering the moment like it was her own. "We were
absolutely thrilled. We became...well very excited from the passion
pouring out of your room. We went back to our bedroom. I was floating
on air. We fucked the night away!"

	Her eyes glinted with sexual excitement. She leaned forward,
kissing me fully on the lips, saying, "So, I really mean it! Thank
you!" As an afterthought, she added, "And I'll be sure to let Brad
visit you alone during school break...if you WANT him. I won't tell
him that I know."

	She knew I wanted her son. She KNEW I could still feel his
throbbing manhood deep inside me! I realized she didn't know Bill
had stayed to watch.

	I laughed, uncontrollably, hugging Rita, feeling closer than
I'd ever felt to her before. "I'd absolutely love it, Rita! Just as
I love you!"

	She has phoned to thank me on three occasions since. The only
time she didn't mention this incident as I've described it was the
one time her son was nearby.

	Believing his parents don't know, Brad insists on visiting us
at the end of the next quarter because he loves "water skiing in
Florida." And, of course, he has his parents' enthusiastic approval.
Rita says that she and Darryl often fantasize about Brad and me while
they're in the privacy of their bedroom. She says, "God! I get so hot
when I think about it!"
	
	The exquisite sin of adultery, you know, has after-shocks,
affecting many lives other than just those of the people who commit it.
For Bill and me, and for those who have touched our lives, the results
have been immeasurably gratifying.

	*****************************************************
	            CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 3: "GAME"
        *****************************************************
                                                                                               
OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES: "DATING, OPEN-MARRIAGE STYLE
By Ellen


     After a year of our lifestyle, I'm still not sure whether "open 
marriage" is the right term. When Bill first encouraged me to date 
others, I found the idea appalling, but now I love this arrangement. 
Bill hasn't shown any interest in involvemen

t with another woman, so 
this has been a one-sided affair. What Bill gets out of these dates 
are the thrills of my telling about my extramarital experiences. I 
agreed to whatever adventures Bill might dream up as long as these 
were no threat to ou

r marriage. 



     So one night we drove in separate cars to a local live-
entertainment club. I was wearing a red satiny oriental dress, baring 
my back to just below the waist and slit to the thigh. I found a table 
in a dimly lit corner. The place was decorated w

ith nostalgia gimmicks 
no one would want in their home but somehow looked just right in the 
lounge. I gazed around the crowd and listened to the three-piece 
band's soft music. 



     Minutes later, Bill walked in, sat at the bar and ordered a wine 
cooler. He acknowledged me with a smile, then turned away. He glanced 
back now and then as several men eyed me, clearly with sexual 
intentions.



     When I wear heels, some men under 6 feet avoid making passes at 
me because of my 5'8" height. This was the problem this night until a 
tall attractive man, his hair black as my own, noticed Bill glancing 
toward me from the bar. Attired in a dark

 blue blazer, white polo 
shirt, and white tropical slacks, he turned as I smiled quietly at 
Bill, not the stranger. But the man lifted his drink, sauntered over 
to my table, and grinned, "With anyone?"



     I responded, "I am now, I suppose," smiling as I appraised his 
blue eyes and lean physique. I aged him at 28. He was wearing a white 
gold wedding ring like mine, but I pretended not to notice, and so did 
he.



     He squinted at me through the dimness and, with a look of 
surprise, remarked, "I haven't seen anyone with gray eyes in years!"



     I smiled, "An inherited trait." I hear that a lot. There aren't 
many of us. When gray-eyed people see each other, they silently smile 
in acknowledgement, just as I've been told a young person with 
prematurely gray hair returns a smile to anothe

r. 



     He gave me his name, Phil, but his occupation gave me a start. He 
was a new attorney with the law firm that set up Bill's corporation 
and was now advising Bill's office manager, Steve, who runs the 
business side of Bill's engineering practice. 

We engaged in small 
talk, complimenting the other until he finally asked me to dance. 



     On the dance floor, he held me closely. Men from around the room 
looked disappointed that they hadn't asked me first. The touch of his 
cheek brushing mine, as Bill watched, excited me. By the middle of the  
o73 
second song, he was gently p

ressing his groin against mine. I was 
fighting to control my gasps as I felt his firmness growing beneath 
his slacks. My face burned at his openly sexual gesture, but soon in 
excitation, I was brushing my mound against his hardness. I could feel 
m

y nipples tingling against the satin of my dress. He whispered, "Do 
you have plans tonight?"



     "Don't you have to go home?" I queried, my voice trembling as I 
remembered his wedding ring.



     "My wife's a pharmaceutical sales rep," he said softly. "She's in 
Chicago until Tuesday at her company's headquarters gathering." He'd 
remembered my own ring and had no reason to lie.



     I allowed him to press me closer. His skin radiated a heat like 
my own. The female singer's long, slow melody of adulterous longing 
seemed dedicated to our intertwined bodies. When it ended, I realized 
Bill and I hadn't planned this very well. 

I lied, "My husband's at a 
convention. I have no plans, Phil." We bantered about a bit as I tried 
to think of what to do until finally he came right out with it, "Can 
we spend the night at your place?"  His swollen cock was now massaging 
my clitor

is.

     

     I was breathing heavily, my eyes wild. My throat throbbed 
fearfully, choked with increasing desire, as I breathed, "I'd like to 
visit the ladies' room." 



     He nodded, saying, "I'll meet you  back here in a couple of 
minutes." 



     When he walked through the crowd to the cashier's desk in another 
room, I strode quickly to Bill, explaining the situation. As usual, 
Bill was wonderful. He grinned, "Great. I'll drive over to the office 
and sleep on the couch. If I come home a

bout five a.m., will that be 
enough time?" I agreed, and Bill returned to his drink as I waited at 
the door for Phil.



     We drove in separate cars. The late evening streets were still 
wet from a brief Florida thundershower. The Mercedes' diesel engine 
throbbed like my chest. Although I'd slept with other men, this would 
be my first true "date." The multi-colored 

lights of neon signs, 
street lamps, and a line of cars streaming west to the suburbs cast 
long brilliant reflections on the wet highway. I glanced back now and 
then at Phil's red Fiero following closely. 



     Stopping at a traffic light a block from the lounge, I stared at 
a Cadillac's bumper sticker ahead of me and smiled. The bumper sticker 
read, "Lead Me Not Into Lust, For I Shall Find It Myself."



     We emerged from separate cars into our garage. He murmured, "My 
god, I just noticed the name on the mailbox! I know your husband, by 
name anyway!"



     I laughed. "I told you my name at the lounge. You didn't ask for 
my husband's. Don't be so up-tight, Phil!" Actually, I was more tense  
o73 
than Phil, not from his association with the law firm but from the 
desire that had grown with each 

mile I drove home. Inside, Phil 
removed his coat, poured a drink from our bar and searched out a diet 
soda from the refrigerator for me. He walked upstairs to meet me in 
the bedroom.

 

     I'd turned on the stereo and flicked on a table lamp, bathing the 
room in a dim red glow that seemed to accentuate my inner heat. I 
turned, my hands on my hips and legs spread wide on the carpet as I 
faced him. He stared, his manhood bulging be

neath his slacks, and 
breathed, "God, you're incredible!" 



     My breasts heaved as he set the drinks on the nightstand and took 
me in his arms. He unzipped my dress, puddling it onto the floor, then 
unbuttoned his shirt. I trembled, barely able to stand as he grinded 
his hardness against my clitoris. I fe

ll to my knees and pulled away 
his slacks, his nine-inch instrument bobbing against my lips as his 
fingers stroked my neck. I moaned at his sensuous touch. I was 
mesmerized by the dark, purple-veined cock that I was now stroking, my 
hand squeezing

 it back and forth from its black mass of pubic hair to 
the broad, bulging head. I ovaled my lips over the rubbery head, 
sucking it slowly as he groaned, "Oh god, Ellen, you're terrific, oh 
god, oh god..." My tongue slid along his length as his hips

 writhed, 
pushing it beyond the back of my throat. The smoothness glided through 
me until I was delirious with passion. I became one with his cock and 
the throaty music drifting from the stereo. I flamed with desire, my 
eyes wildly rolling up at h

im as I whimpered with each stroke into the 
fullness of my quivering lips. 



     He leaned to cup my breasts, then kneeled behind me as his strong 
hands kneaded the softness of my breasts. 



     I fell against his hands until my arms braced against the floor. 
I shuddered as his warm cock brushed my flaming vagina from the rear. 
I muttered, my voice quaking, "I'm on fire, Phil. I'm yours!" My hips 
gyrated, tremoring as his lengthy hardn

ess entered my lubricated 
channel. My vaginal walls stretched with each thrilling inch to 
accommodate him. And then he had sheathed the tool to its hilt as my 
mouth opened widely, my eyes rolling with the adulterous passion that 
gripped my searing

 soul. His long shaft radiated, steaming in the hot 
coals of my cunt.



     Wailing as he fucked me wildly, I swirled my hips to his rhythm. 
I turned my head to watch as his hips bumped against my buttocks, 
further inflaming my passion. Each entry throbbed against my clitoris 
until, deep within, I could feel the thunde

rous waters of an orgasmic 
flood rushing up to burst through me. I began to cry, tears streaking 
down my cheeks. His blue eyes glinted. He was biting his lip in 
excitation when I felt his cock swelling. He was about to come with 
me. He groaned pas

sionately. Our eyes locked. As his cock expanded 
within me I spread my legs further as if I could somehow allow my 
vagina to hold even more. I was biting the softness of my lower lip as 
I cried, "It's super, Phil! Super! I LOVE it!" I reached behind

 to 
touch his chest as his cock fucked into my hot, wet depths, which were 
now a vortex of mega-lust that gripped the broad cock-head sliding  
o73 
through my love tunnel. 

     

     He increased his tempo. The building orgasm was still distant but 
now rushing up like a mad prehistoric beast screaming for air from 
primeval depths of a misty cavern. The earth opened before me. I was 
falling through a bottomless chasm of adul

terous pleasure with his 
every thrust, my mind enveloping an unknown universe inhabited by only 
me and Phil. I shuddered. The beast within was insane with pleasure. 
My whoring had now spanned eons, all sense of time lost as I cried out 
frightfully

. I was praying for the oncoming super-orgasm but fearing I 
could no longer bear the passionate explosion.



     And then, OH GOD!  It rolled over us like a landslide!  My mind 
and body exploded with staggering force! Gigantic stars crashed as I 
screamed in ecstasy, feeling his warm sperm splattering through my 
channel. The planet was quaking beneath me a

s I sobbed in release from 
the bondage of this adulterous love. Crying, I collapsed, tremoring 
beneath the white heat of his body.



     Later, in the afterglow, we drank wine, watching erotic movies on 
our large-screen VCR from our bed until, finally, he mounted me again, 
missionary position, fucking me slowly. I screamed with a second, then 
third, then fourth orgasm, until he 

came, shuddering atop me. Dazed, I 
muttered, "I love you," and meaning it at that moment of gratitude. 
When he replied, "That's nice," because Phil couldn't lie, I laughed 
and hit him softly with my fist.



     He left at three a.m. I dialed Bill's office. When Bill was in 
bed beside me a half hour later, I described Phil's fucking me just as 
I'm telling you here, until Bill's manhood had risen and was eagerly 
entering my vagina. At times like these, 

I almost feel a control over 
him. I moaned, muttering my feelings of passionately fucking Phil as 
Bill thrust into me. I could feel his tool expand to awesome 
proportions, until finally, reliving my adultery, I came again. Bill 
groaned, his sperm 

splattering warmly into my vagina. We lay side by 
side facing each other as I answered his questions about my feelings 
when fucking other men. I admitted, "You lead me into these 
situations, but once I'm united with another, I can think only of him 


and me. Sometimes I forget I'm married." When his eyebrows arched, I 
smiled, "But I still love you." 



     Exhausted, I fell asleep. When I awoke with the sunrise, Bill was 
still looking down at me, grinning in approval.  




OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES



"The Heat at Land's Edge"



By ELLEN



     On a Saturday late last March, while Bill was out of town on business, 
I was in a black string-bikini, laying on our cypress dock beneath the late 
afternoon sun. The dock juts 50 feet out over the lake to our boathouse. The 
sun's rays rippled t

hrough tiers of clouds, reddening the lake. 



     I looked up as the 22 year old son of an engineering consultant, a 
friend and client of Bill's, drove his canvas-topped jeep onto the curving 
driveway alongside our house. 



     He walked out back to the dock. He was delivering a contract proposal 
from his father for Bill to look over. 



     I ignored his darting eyes as he appraised my figure. Having been a 
beach wear and fashion model before our marriage just 8 years ago, I was 
accustomed to even our pastor stealing glances at church picnics. I 

explained that Bill wasn't home, had forgotten to tell me about it, and asked 
him leave the papers until Monday when Bill was to return.



     I hadn't previously met John's son, who confidently introduced himself 
as David. 



     He was driving back for the spring quarter to a college a hundred miles 
away and was just dropping off the papers on the way. David, with his full, 
perfectly shaped lips, was as handsome as Bill, 16 years younger, and a 
couple of inches shorter

. His lean, muscular body was particularly evident 
in his polo shirt and white swim trunks as he stood on the dock between me 
and the setting sun. 



     He nodded, acknowledging our water skis on a rack inside the boathouse, 
then commented, "We have a ski boat and boat ramp at the school's lake. I 
love water skiing!" It was clearly a request for an invitation.



   "Okay," I smiled, "I'm Ellen. How about a half hour's water skiing? I'll 
operate the boat." 



     Grinning, he helped me secure the tow rope to the stern. The skis tight 
on his feet, he was standing knee deep in water as I powered up and threw 
him the tow rope. 



     The "half hour" became an hour, and it was now dark. 



     While operating the boat, watching David's athletic form in the 
rearview mirror, I was remembering another younger man, Greg, whom Bill had 
encouraged to seduce me the previous fall. Although I had no such thoughts 
about David, those sexual mem

ories were churning in my stomach as I reached 
to pull David from the moonlit water. 



     The touch of our hands was electric. His long stare at my breasts 
unsettled me. His chest heaving noticeably, he kept stealing glances at my 
legs and breasts as I steered back across the lake. My knuckles were white 
on the wheel as I fought my 

urge to return his stare. I sniffed deeply, 
drawing in the pungent odor of the motor's gasoline as if that would clear 

the thoughts swirling through my mind.



    As we putted into the boathouse's darkness, he grappled with the tie 
lines, securing the boat to the dock. Plopping into the rear seat, he 
exhaled. 



     Afraid to look at him, I waited. He didn't move. 



     I swallowed nervously, when he breathed, "Need to relax a minute. 
Thanks, Ellen, I really enjoyed it." Then, he added, haltingly, "You're 
truly beautiful." He was trying to hide the tightness in his voice. 



     Trembling fearfully, I turned, staring down at his long, curved 

hardness straining beneath his white swim trunks. I blushed, feeling 

the warmth surging through my body.



     Our eyes locked. 



     My lips were quivering. I gulped, "You want something else, David?" And 
I knew what he wanted. What we both wanted. Each time I sense that a man 
wishes to make love, I feel an unexplainable fear pounding in my throat and 
deep within my stomach.

 I felt that now as David reached for my hand and 
pulled me toward him, kissing me deeply. 



     My face burned in the electrical current of sexuality irradiating 
between us. 



     I whimpered, my hips rotating in involuntary excitation as he untied my 
swim suit and lowered me to the boat's carpeted floor. 



     I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the boathouse. 



     David slipped off his white swim trunks. He hovered above me, his 
instrument unbelievably long and slender! I couldn't take my eyes off the 
engorged penis, curving and pointing toward me like a threatening weapon! 
His lips trembled down the pat

h of my body to my shaved mound. 



     I moaned, pressing my heels against the boat's carpeting, my cuntal 
lips pulsating. My nipples were standing out like spikes as David kissed the 
softness of my breasts. 



     White hot with desire, I enwrapped my long legs about his slender body, 
pulling him to me. His throbbing manhood swayed closer to the vee of my 
long, spread legs, until my smooth mound quivered up to meet it. I murmured, 
my voice tremoring, "Yo

u're beautiful also, David."



     David's eyes blazed with youthful lust. The moonlight shone brilliantly 
against his purple-veined scepter. His fiery poker slithered into my vagina, 
probing my depths. My belly quivered as I pulled away, then lurched upward 
again. My cuntal wal

ls were steaming, my fear now overcome by excitation. I 
whimpered, locking my ankles around his back. 



    His soft, pale lips enveloped a hard, reddened nipple. He matched his 
motions to mine as my hips came up to launch his lengthy missile deep into 
me with a twisting thrust. His hands stroked the shapeliness of my legs. His

glazed eyes rolled as he realized the monumental ardor of the delicious sin. 
Fucking a MARRIED woman! The WIFE of his father's friend! He murmured, in 
exquisite passion, "It's so wonderful!" 



     My sighs were bursting each time he entered me. I looked down at his 
cock, my mouth wide with wonder as I watched his hips rise to display the 
glowing marvel that disappeared with each thrust into my radiant depths. I 
was delirious, smoldering 

with passion, my hips rising to meet his every 
entry. My groin flamed as his long tool slithered through my channel. I 
moaned, "It's so big! You're killing me!" My breasts heaved in rhythm with 
David's gasps. 



     I was tossing my head, my hair flailing the warm night air. I screamed 
ecstatically, "Oh, David! Oh my GOD! It's marvelous! Marvelous!" I was 
positively loving it. My eyes and mouth opened widely as I relished the 
stunning mega-thrills! I was m

oaning uncontrollably now as I watched his 
curved hardness fucking into me. 



     I hadn't realized my lubricious tunnel was so deep as to accept this 
length. Squeezing my vagina around it, I was going mad with ungodly passion 
under his long strokes! The higher I raised my legs as he pistoned in and 
out, the deeper he bored.

 My hips rolled from side to side of their own 
volition, making his cock rotate and wriggle within my tremoring channel. An 
orgasmic rhapsody crescendoed through me like an impending explosion. 



     David shuddered, his brilliant green eyes staring into mine, knowing we 
were almost there, at the outer limits of the cosmos! He thrust into me with 
a fury. My tight flesh parted reluctantly, then closed tightly around his 
manhood as he plowed 

into my trembling body.



     And it came! Booming throughout the darkness. Our orgasm ruptured the 
universe, flooding through me like an awesome rapture in my soul. Heaven 
thundered, a billion exploding stars lighting the boathouse. 



     Now, moaning and coming together, we were one, glowing like a blast 
furnace! We wailed as the earth-moving climax lifted our bodies from the 
planet. Our arms intertwined, our lips pressed together, we rolled to our 
sides. 



     My legs squeezed his hips as I pressed my mound against him to relish 
the firm manhood throbbing in unison with my fluttering heart.



     Nude, we walked through the darkness of our tree-enclosed yard to the 
house. 



     David stayed the night, fucking me with the male animal stamina 
possessed only by a 22 year old. "I love you," he told me after we showered, 
standing next to our bed. 



     Intoxicated by his male odor, I kneeled before him. The fullness of my 
lips enveloped his enormous cock. My head bobbed along its length, my tongue 
sliding softly over the bulging veins.



     He pushed me gently, until I was facing away from him, on my knees, 
then entered my cunt from the rear. My hands flat on the carpet, my 

tremoring arms braced me as he fucked me from behind. His naked hips slapped 
my buttocks. His instrument pistoned into me as I shuddered wildly with 
pleasure. 



     I was fucking back against him as I rolled my head, groaning my 
gratitude! Long rippling waves of orgiastic joy tingled through my depths. 
"Oh, GOD, David," I moaned in an unguarded moment as I turned to touch his 
wonderful instrument driving i

nto me from behind, "I love you also! I LOVE 
you! I LOVE you!" And I did. For that long and lovely night. 



     When my husband returned, I told him everything. 



     He grinned, his eyes illumined as we relived the adultery, the greatest 
my pleasures. 



                                   THE END

*******   CHAPTER 5  *********

Open Marriage Chronicles: "THE GAME"
By BILL and ELLEN

ELLEN'S STORY:

Although Bill objects to the word, "addicted," that's the best term I
can think of to describe his attachment to card games. At the peak of our
experiment with open marriage, bi-weekly Friday night poker had become a
ritual with him and his friends, held at our home. Like young boys, 
they called themselves the Nautilus Pack because of their membership
in a health club. "The game at Pier Point" was what the players called it,
referring to our home's wooden pier that stretches out over the lake behind
our house to the land's edge. Each evening the pier looks like a walkway
to the sun that sets across the water.

When they held poker night, I would go out with a divorced friend,
Christine. 

Last May, Christine confided that each of these pack members had
occasional flings, adding, "except, of course, for your husband, Bill."
She'd learned this from our friend, Paul, with whom she had recently
been involved for some three months. I was stunned only by her mention
of Tom, a one-time seminary student who'd been a friend of Bill's 
since their days as Reconnaissance Marines. I couldn't have imagined
Tom playing around!

Over the next two weeks, I found myself awakening after wild dreams
about sex with faceless men who - I somehow realized - played poker 
every other Friday. So I begged off one night out with Chris and laid
a plan. I would be staying home during the poker game.

BILL'S STORY:

Because I'd encouraged Ellen over the past two years to dress
provocatively, I couldn't complain about her outfit the night she offered
to stay home and help serve snacks at the poker game. She was wearing a
loose red blouse and red skirt that was slit along her sides to the waist.
Her black hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She wore her highest 
heels, which made her taller than two of the players.

Each man arriving was surprised to see Ellen. Sitting across the
gaming table from them, I grinned, noticing them glancing at her from
the corners of their eyes as she walked to and from the kitchen. Ellen
was serving short drinks and small snacks to make sure she'd be coming
and going frequently.

When the demand slowed, she relaxed on the sofa in the living room and
inserted a CD into the stereo. We could observe her through the high
arched door separating the rooms. She lay back, her legs crossed as she
leafed through a magazine. Because her skin was slightly burned from
sunning alongside the pool and lake the day before, her long legs glowed
red beneath the lamp behind her. She seemed detached and unconcerned, but
I think even at that time, I was catching onto her plan. She looked 
toward us occasionally, noticing one - then another - glancing away
from his cards toward her.

Leo's luck was sagging. His head was down so far, staring at a sad
hand that all I could see was his brown hair, like he had no face. He
grumbled, "Tough game! Want to watch ESPN instead?" he was hooted down,
called a "wussy." So he laughed, "You guys have no sympathy at all! What
if we just ask Ellen to dance for us instead of playing this damn game?"

Tom grinned, "NOW you're talking!" He wasn't serious when he turned
to Ellen and asked, "How about it? Think you could liven up Leo?"

Ellen surprised them, eagerly responding, "Sure! I'm only here to
serve your bidding!" She turned up the stereo, dimmed the living room
light, and walked to the center of the room. The three players across
the table looked at each other with eyebrows raised. Paul squinted his
blue eyes and muttered, "She isn't kidding. IS she?"

The last half of a heavy metal French song was underway. Maybe because
I'm ten years older than Ellen, I don't like rock music; but Ellen likes
it, so I don't object.

Her legs flashed through the open slits in the skirt as she twirled.
Ellen's an excellent dancer, and she was showing off her athletic ability.
Her hips thrust forward savagely, her eyes taking in their mutual
appreciation. Two of them were wide-eyed and grinning broadly. Paul was
staring intently, his mouth opened like he was watching a nude dancer at
on of the topless clubs he frequents. Maybe I should've known how well
she could dance, but I didn't, and her performance surprised me. Except
during her modeling eight or more years before, she'd never danced alone
before others. So I was a bit taken back, realizing just how good she 
really was. She threw everything erotic she knew into the dance. I
grinned at the guys' pleasure they were enjoying.

Then, as she swirled, thrusting her hips, Ellen loosened three buttons
from her blouse, exposing a generous portion of her ample breasts. Until
that moment, I hadn't realized she had been sunbathing in the nude; but
no one could have failed to notice that the sunburn covered her breasts.

When it was over, Leo shook his head in disbelief, muttering, "Hot
Damn!" And when Ellen walked to the kitchen for more beer and chips, Leo
added, "Best poker party we ever had!"

A half hour later, we called a break. Paul walked away while Tom, Leo,
and I were talking about pro football, which bores him. Paul strode into
the kitchen where Ellen was tidying up.

ELLEN'S STORY:

Paul is lean, his hair as red as my sunburned skin. At six-three, he's
the only player taller than Bill. He walked past me to the sink. Watching
him as he toweled a splash of picante sauce on his aloha shirt, I said to
his back, "Hope you don't mind my staying around tonight."

He turned off the water, pulled on his sixth beer, and turned, 
grinning, "Glad you're here. Adds class to this crowd." Paul had had one
beer too many. His eyes were on the portion of my breasts that were still
displayed beneath the half-unbuttoned blouse. I'd crossed a leg over the
other as I leaned against the counter and sipped a tumbler of wine. One
leg was bared. He gazed over my body, then glanced toward the closed
door as if someone might walk in. He turned again to me and inquired,
"Want to join us on the next hand?"

I told him, "I'd be in the way. I stroked my sunburned leg, turned to
the cabinet behind me, and pulled out a bottle of lotion. Spreading the
cream over my shoulders, I said, "This burn isn't as bad as it looks. I'm
a little warm, but comfortable." 

The intimacy of the enclosed kitchen excited him. Glancing at the
lotion bottle, he gulped, "Can I help with your back?"

"Sure," I smiled, offering him the bottle. As I turned, he splashed 
the lotion on his hand, smoothing it over my neck. His touch was electric. He
stroked my shoulders erotically. I sighed, "How about the backs of my 
legs?"

I looked behind me. His manhood was surging beneath his white slacks.
The broad head of his member was bulging flat against his stomach, 
pointing to his belt. His face reddened as he saw me staring down at it. 
He mumbled, "Uh, sure, no problem." He squirted cream into his hand, then
reached beneath the skirt, massaging it over my calves in slow circles.

His hand touched the back of my thigh. I turned until his broad
fingers were brushing the smoothness of my shaved mound. I shuddered as
his fingers stroked my clitoris. Had anyone walked in, his throbbing 
member would have been obvious. 

Glaring like I was warning him, I held out my leg to rest in his
hand. He reluctantly moved away from my groin to my leg.  

Knowing he shouldn't be doing this and pretending he wasn't, Paul
tried to appear unaffected. I glanced at the clock. Five minutes had
passed.	 He was holding my foot, my leg straight toward him. I wriggled
my toes, brushing his bulging member, and reminded him, "Don't you 
think it might be time for the game to start over?"

He murmured, "Yeah," swallowing. He lowered his hand, allowing my
foot to linger against his hardness. His brown eyes searched my face as
he said, "Hope that helped." He turned for the bathroom. I heard water
running for two minutes.

An hour later, I was walking down the hall from the bedroom. I heard
Tom push away from the table and say, "I'm out. Sorry it was so early,
but you guys keep dealing me lousy hands."

I ducked into the bath. Tom's long shadow turned down the hallway's
corner. I walked out, bumping into him. I asked if he'd like to see the
rest of the house.

I walked to the kitchen, picked a bottle of wine and two glasses,
then escorted him through the rooms. Upstairs, our arms brushed against
the other's. I didn't move away. Tom was slightly intoxicated by the time
we walked through the bedroom toward the hot tub. He hadn't seen our
waterbed before and was staring down at it for a half minute. I took his
hand and led him to the hot tub room. The room was lit by a dim red bulb.

Tom muttered, "Looks like fun."

I agreed, "Sure. With an agreeable tub partner."

Tilting his glass, he peered over its rim, his gaze roaming my body as
he said, "Any time."

I was a little drunk as I nodded affirmatively and acknowledged,
"Well, ALMOST any time." Turning, I brushed past him in the doorway. 
	
His fist curled around my arm. Pulling me to him, he kissed me deeply.
I responded eagerly, my groin rotating against his. His burgeoning tool
awakened. He fondled my breasts. Taking a firm nipple in his lips, he
slithered his hand through the slit in my dress. His fingers were
stroking my clitoris. I gasped at the contact, shoving my hips against
pressure of his hand. I moaned.

Moments later, I whispered, "We'd better go back."

As we walked into the game room, Leo dejectedly flipped his cards on
the table and complained, "O-kay, I'm out too. My luck's not holding."

It was time! I blurted, "Don't quit, Leo! Why don't you use ME as
your prize chip?" When they asked what I meant, I smiled, "If Leo's
beaten, the winner can go to bed with me." I said it like it was a joke,
so that Bill could disapprove. Then, I could have backed out gracefully,
without seeming to mean it.

I'm not sure it came across that way, though. The men were in a
hilarious uproar, with hoots and shouts of "Whoa!" and "All RIGHT!"

I trembled a moment, wondering if I hadn't gone too far. I watched
Bill carefully; he pursed his lips thoughtfully, then smiled, nodding
his assent.

I'd sobered, adding, "I really mean it. The winner gets ME!"

Tom was standing beside me, at first in disbelief. He turned and
and strode to the table, saying, "Deal me back in!"

	BILL'S STORY:

Tom looked away from Ellen, then at me and smirked, "Is this for real, Bill?"

I looked at each player and asked, "You guys really WANT it to be for real?"

They looked at each other, nodding affirmatively, as Tom spoke for all
and grunted, "Yeah, we do." Turning to them, he asked, "Right?"

Paul said, slowly, "Absolutely."

Leo added, "Right."

I grinned, "Then it's for real." I turned to Tom and inquired, "Think
you've known me long enough to trust my word?

***********************************

Tom knew. He was the only other man besides myself who was still living
from the goon patrol. He works for me as a client liaison, and he'd worked
for me when we first met in the marines.

It was thirteen years ago this month when Tom was pointing out that
we'd seen more men die than either of us could ever know as friends. It was
our third day back in the States. We were sitting in a dimly lit San
Francisco bar in neatly pressed uniforms talking about Mojo, Franklin, and
Reid who were the best memories we'd have from the hell ground we'd kissed
good-bye the week before.

A dark haired, bearded young man was sitting two stools away and
talking to another hippie between him and us. The man glanced around his
friend's shoulder toward us and said to his clone, "Fucking soldiers are
running down the neighborhood."

His clone turned to look at us, adjusted his purple glasses, lit up a
joint, and told him, "Lay off, Louie."

Figuring his friend was offering him good advice, I ignored them; but
Tom turned to the clone, who seemed the most reasonable, and asked, "You 
a conscientious objector?"

He responded, as if with sadness, "Yes."

Tom nodded sympathetically, "I understand." Tom wasn't lying; he'd
left seminary school from where he'd hoped one day to be a Catholic priest.
He'd joined the marines and spent the next four years worrying about losing
his soul. Tom turned to the other man and asked, "And you?"

The surlier hippie clanked his beer against the counter in a show of
irritation. Wiping his heavy paws across a bright yellow shirt emblazoned
with a large blue star on his chest, he smirked, "Student deferment." He
spit on the floor, ignoring the angry retort from the bar tender. I looked
straight ahead, across the bar, and told Tom, "Tell him to fuck off and
forget it."

A TV set above the bar glared. The TV commentator was intoning about a
greenhorn lieutenant and his squad who'd gone hyper in Vietnam and wasted
the better half of a village we'd never heard of.

So Yellow Shirt glanced away from the set and growled, "Were you two
with those My Lai baby killers?"

I shouldn't have said anything, but I pulled on my beer and explained
heatedly, "He was Army! We're Marines!" I felt an immediate twinge of guilt
about implying the army was incompetent; it had been the army's helicopters
and the army's green berets who pulled Tom, me and three other 
reconnaissance marines from a hell hole where we officially shouldn't have
been but had been sent anyway. 

********************************

We'd been on the run for a dozen days and nights from an unrelenting
enemy who probably thought we were fifty or more men instead of just 
five scared marines, three of whom wouldn't live to celebrate their
twenty-third birthdays. We'd slept in short shifts with thunderstorms
arriving on the hour and pesky snakes crawling through our mud-soaked
sleeping bags. I was suffering from a fractured wrist, influenza, 
diarrhea, and a festering cut to the groin from crawling through a
quarter mile of jagged riverside rocks. And, as if the jungle gods hadn't
done enough, I was stumbling along half-blind with a three-day migraine.
Yet because, I was to be checked into a hospital for two weeks, I was to
be the luckiest of the five. 

I was scared out of my wits from the first night's rumble of mortar
fire to the moment the flock of army choppers and the berets cleared
the jungle and whisked us away.

**********************************

I was remembering all that while this loudmouth was asking if we were
baby killers. I remembered it all.

As the helicopter turned south, a hulking green beret grinned down
at our six-foot-four superstar, Mojo, and asked, "How'd you guys keep
going?"

Mojo turned his determined black face to the beret and said simply,
"Semper Fi, baby."

A week later, a red-eyed sergeant who'd been leading Mojo's new team
strode down the double line of hospital beds to mine. He had bad news.
They'd just plucked the two dozen pieces of Mojo's body from the stale
waters of a rotting rice paddy. His remains were in a black body bag,
folded inside an ice chest on the hospital's west end. Nervously gesturing
his thumb over his shoulder, the sergeant added, "Near the noncom's dining
hall." And, by the way, how would I fucking like to visit what was left 
of Mojo?

The next two hours, I was chewing pages from the Time Magazine I'd
been reading. I spat out paper balls I was imagining were bullets aimed at
everyone I could blame for us been sent to that hell hole. Then I
remembered. It was me. And Mojo. Nobody had forced us to volunteer. Mojo's
last fond memory was having learned the green beret talking to him in the
helicopter had been a pro football player for Mojo's hometown team. The
beret's reserve unit had pulled the unlucky number and was called to
Vietnam. The sergeant had told me Mojo had been talking about the beret and
his team that morning Mojo was killed.

Two months later, I was assigned to a fresh recon team. It didn't get
any better.

*************************************

So I pushed away from the bar but was too late. Tom had already walked
around the man who said he was c.o. and gripped the throat of Yellow
Shirt whose legs were now dangling inches above the marbled floor. His
arms were flailing. Tom was yelling at him, " A student DEFERMENT! You're
a DRAFT dodger!"

I told myself this was why Tom shouldn't have been a priest anyway. 
Turning to Tom, I said, "Forget it. This piece of shit isn't fucking
worth this."

Tom murmured, "Guess not." He released his grip. Yellow Shirt thumped
to the floor. The man sat there in his bell bottom jeans, his peace
symbol dangling from a silver chain. Choking, he coughed out obscenities
about the brutality of mother-fucking, baby-killing bullies.

Grinning, I turned to Tom, swallowed the last of the beer, and
scratched my forehead. I asked him, cynically, "So, you proud of yourself?"

Tom's face reddened as he said, "Guess not." Turning to the 
conscientious objector, but not to the man on the floor, he apologized,
"Sorry. And I mean it." He dropped ten dollars on the counter and told 
the bartender, "Keep the change." The bartender swooped it up, leaned
over the counter, and shoved the bills back into Tom's pocket, saying,
"Gy-renes, you got a free beer here anytime you want it." The bar man told
Yellow Shirt to get the fuck out of his bar and not to come back.

*******************************

So here we were across the country, light years later, sitting across
a card table. Playing for my wife as the prize.

Assured that Ellen and I were serious, they played furiously. Their
attitudes had changed to a determined lust. Now and then, Leo, Paul and
Tom looked toward Ellen who was sitting on the couch. 

She looked fearful. She squirmed each time one of us dragged the pool
of chips across the table, like she was trying to determine who would win.
Once, her body shuddered, her hips involuntarily thrusting in excitation.
I didn't know who was the most eager, her or them. Or me.

I lost purposely. No one noticed when I didn't show my hand. To hurry
the game along, the remaining players drew for the highest card. Paul won.

They breathed heavily, leering at Ellen. Wide-eyed and tremoring, she
walked to the staircase, looking back at us in the dimness of the game room.

ELLEN'S STORY:

I had known from the beginning I'd have to involve all these men; 
otherwise, anyone of them could have talked. My voice quaking, I 
murmured, "I want you all. But Paul's the winner. He's first."

My knees were shaking as I took Paul by the hand. I turned once more 
to Bill like I hadn't made up my mind. My stomach was churning. Bill's eyes
glinted beneath the chandelier. The long faces of Leo and Tom displayed
disappointment, but they smiled. Paul and I turned for the stairs to 
our bedroom.

Paul's eyes are dark and brooding. Muscular and lean, his arms look
like telephone poles, the fingers of his large hands like bananas. My
body trembled as he closed the door, taking me in his arms. His hands
fondled my soft breasts as I unzipped his gray slacks, stroking his 
stiffening manhood. My breasts heaved as he unbuttoned my blouse and 
untied my skirt. My clothes puddled to the floor.

I'd known Paul and his wife for two years. Perhaps that should have
made me feel guilty, but somehow the thought heightened my desire for the
sin. I unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled away his slacks. I knelt to
worship the long engorged member curving up before me.

My fingers were shaking like leaves in the wind. I grasped his hips
as my trembling lips enveloped his velvety manhood. As my lips slid 
along his length, my eyes rolled up to watch his face. He stared back, 
chewing his lower lip, his hands clasping my bobbing head. His hips 
thrust madly. His eyes glazed. 

I tremored with fright as he grasped my arms, lifting and
pushing me back on the waterbed. My groin was thrusting in excitation
toward his twitching tool. Hovering above me, he spread my legs. His
tongue lathed my breasts, then traced a sensuous path down my stomach. My
vagina quivered up to his mouth.

He guided his lengthy tool's broad head to my vagina. I wailed, realizing 
the others could hear me downstairs. I no longer cared. My shaved cunt 
closed tightly around his throbbing staff. My eyes widened as I stared 
down at the huge instrument sinking its full length. My hips rotated, 
my cuntal walls contracting and pulling his engorged length.

He thrust into me like a wild stallion fucking a young mare. My vaginal
walls smoldered. I mewed with each entry. Closing my eyes, I locked my legs
around his back. His hips were slapping against my hungry loins.

I shuddered. My straining vagina accepted each entry of his broad
tool. My body lifted from the waterbed with each withdrawal. Paul's
rod tunneled deeper. My mouth formed an "oh" as I moaned in thrilling
ecstasy, my eyes opening widely to watch the instrument driving into me.

The door creaked open. Leo and Tom were standing nude in the doorway,
their forms outlined by the dim lighting from the bathroom down the hall.
Each walked to a separate side of our bed. My husband was leaning against
the doorjamb, pumping his cock furiously.

*******************************

BILL'S STORY:

When we opened the door, Paul turned to acknowledge us but continued
fucking my wife. Ellen looked at Leo. Leo is about her height, heavyset
but muscular, with the thick neck, shoulders, and arms of a weight-lifter,
which is just what he is. Her tremoring hand reached to stroke Leo's semi-
tumescent member. She grasped Tom's soft cock, pulling it to her lips. As
Tom's cock gathered its full, hard length, it glistened beneath the dim
stream of light filtering through the door. Leo's broad chest hovered above
her as he suckled one of her nipples that were standing out like spikes.
Her moans of pleasure were muffled by Tom's broad-beamed member fucking into
her hungry mouth.

I wondered whether Ellen thought about these men being married to her
closest friends. As for Leo, Tom, and Paul, I knew that at this point they
didn't give a damn.

Paul was fucking my wife with a frenzy. She was pumping Tom's thick
cock and mouthing Leo's full length. Paul shuddered, then groaned as he
exploded.

Leo took his place. As Leo's body hammered between her splayed legs,
her hips grinding and thrusting with his rhythm, the bedside telephone
rang.  I said, "Let the recorder answer it," but Ellen put a finger to her
lips for us to quiet down and picked up the receiver.  Ellen's lips ovaled
in awe at the size of the cock ramming into her shaved pussy.

Leo hadn't missed a stroke. His broad member thrust deeper. Ellen's
hips tremored at the onslaught. Her voice quaked softly as she answered
into the telephone, "Hel...Hello-o-o-oh!"

It was her friend, Christine, who was telling her what a great movie
she'd missed that night. Finally, Christine asked, "Are you all right?
You sound a little strange." Whatever Ellen said in response, Christine
laughed, "Oh! You're being fucked by BILL! WOW! Can I ever pick some great
times to CALL! Look, I'll call back tomorrow night!"  When Ellen told us
about the conversation, we broke up in gales of laughter.

Leo, however, seemed oblivious to what had happened and kept thrusting
into her. The mood returned as he began erupting his hot sperm. And then,
Tom was pumping into her. Her ankles locked around his back. He murmured,
"Oh, GOD!"

She told Tom, "I love you, Tom! I've always loved you! Oh, fuck me,
Tom! FUCK me!" I didn't know whether she meant it or not, but for some 
overwhelming erotic reason, my cock expanded to enormous proportions as 
she was proclaiming her deep love for him.

She rolled until her legs were straddling him. Leaning over Paul's
supine body, she brought him again to hardness. Her hand stroked Leo's cock.

ELLEN'S STORY:

The heated male flesh around me electrified my mind and body! I could
feel our cosmic orgasms rolling up from the distance. A massive groan in
unison surrounded me.

I was pumping Leo's cock furiously, relishing the feel of his 
soft outer skin that slipped over the hardness beneath. His purple veins 
bulged over the pale skin.

I curled my hand around Paul's member, pulling it to Leo's. I rolled
one slippery shaft in a circular motion around the other as they closed

their eyes to experience the fleshy veins of another man's tool jerk and
throb in my hands.

I stared at the bulging shafts I was rubbing together. The cock-
heads surged in excitation, glistening a deep crimson. Tom stared at the
two cocks that were only inches from his face. Tom rode me savagely. I 
pulled Leo and Paul closer; the undersides of their shafts met from
root to head. Softly grasping the upper half of each cock, I slid them
together in lengthwise motions.

Raising my torso, I strained my lips to envelope the heads of both
penises, my tongue lathing the walnut-sized cock heads as I pressed them
together at the roots. They groaned at the thrills rippling through their
rubbery tools.

Electrical currents shimmied through my body. The feeling of two
throbbing shafts in my hands and mouth, and another fucking into my
fluttering vagina, drove me wild. Rolling my head, I screamed ecstatically.

Tom's tongue twined around mine. I pulled Leo's and Paul's lengthy
rods into my mouth, rolling my tongue through the crevice between Tom's
tongue and their shafts. Tom's body tensed. His cock twisted and slammed
into my vagina with full force, plunging to the furthest reaches of my
steaming cuntal walls. My clitoris pulsated in pre-orgasmic spasms with
each savage entry.

My head was thrashing from side to side, my vision blurring from
the sensual overdose of multiple fucking. A fire storm was raging through
me as I shivered helplessly beneath them, like the maiden prize of an
ancient conquering army. My eyes rolled in excitation as I felt the throb
of an expectant eruption.

In the dim light, I could see a large pale vein pulsating in Tom's
temple as he drove relentlessly into me. My hips gyrated madly in passion.
My hair flailed the warm night air. I shuddered wantonly, my groin 
rotating wildly. The searing heat of his rubbery staff flooded through
me. My hands were still stroking Leo and Paul. Tom's broad tool painfully
stretched my lubricated walls to the breaking point. My body throbbed in
an explosive shower of mind-numbing pleasure as I thrashed beneath his
hammering hips. Murmuring my desire, I radiated with passion.

I was insane with desire! I rolled, until my long legs were kneeling
away from Tom, my backside to him. I released my grip from the other two
men. My elbows braced my body against the headboard as Tom's hands grasped
my hips; he entered my quivering pussy from the rear. I wailed when we were
united. And strangely, it was as if no one else were in the room; just Tom
and I. My passion smoldered.

His manhood throbbed within me. His swollen balls slap-slap-slapped
against my buttocks. Crazed with desire, I cried as he thrust into me.
My hips rotated like a ferris wheel gone mad. I fucked back against him
like I was riding an untamed bronco. I breathed lustily, "Oh-h-h! Fuck me!
FUCK me, Tom!" Hot ecstatic coals had been poured into my vagina.

I turned my head to watch him, my eyes wide. He hammered his long
instrument like a massive machine. My lips ovaled in wonder. I was a cosmic
surfer, riding a celestial wave. When our eyes locked, we each recognized
the mutual feeling - We loved fucking the other. We loved this adultery.
We loved.

I relished the exquisite feeling of his huge cock slipping into me. 
As Tom's hips gyrated, twisting his manhood deep within, my cuntal walls
irradiated in a passionate white heat. I was whimpering in delight.

I glanced to Bill who had groaned from the doorway. His nostrils
flared. His eyes gleamed like those of a hungry coyote surveying his prey.
Bill squinted, his lips parted, as he gripped his cock. He murmured savagely,
"Oh, God-d-d-d!" The realization that my husband was about to come while
watching his friends fuck his wife rocketed my desire into hyper-drive.
Tom was now ramming his shaft into my cunt like a sledgehammer, his hard
stomach flattening my buttocks each time he slammed into me from behind.

The other men, pumping their tools furiously, were slack-jawed. They
stared in wonder at Tom's and my passionate union of orgiastic flesh. Tom
was still lost in the lusty vortex, oblivious to the others.

Then it began. The thunder of cosmic orgasm was rolling up from lust's
distant mountains in lightning-laden clouds. The breadth of Tom's manhood 
was now expanding monstrously like the explosive upsurge of a volcano
about to burst. We shared an ecstatic sigh. I was sobbing like I was about
to die. As I realized Tom was about to come, I moaned, "Oh, GOD-D-D-D,
YES-S-S-S!" I writhed in ecstasy as his thrilling tempo increased and
cried, "Oh DO it to me, Tom! I'm so fucking hot, I don't know what to DO!
Fuck me, Tom! FUCK me-e-e-e!"

I sobbed, staring straight ahead at the headboard as he rammed 
into me from behind. Warm tears of joy streaked across my face like
tropical rain on the windshield of a speeding jetliner. The salty liquid
spread through my mouth as I moaned, "Oh God, Tom! I'm going to COME! I'm
going to COME WITH YOU! Oh God! It's so fucking AWESOME!"

And now, it was happening! Oh God help me! The tidal wave was upon 
us. I shuddered, my body on fire with the cosmic power of our orgasmic flood!
We wailed in unison. The lightning thunderclapped. A million stars burst
throughout the room.

Tom's hot semen burst through my waiting channel. I screamed as his
lengthy member erupted molten lava through my steaming cuntal walls. My
arms enwrapped the shuddering torsos of the men kneeling on each side.
I was sobbing with passion, my tears flowing in torrents.

I throbbed in a sensation of dying in rapture. My mind was separated
from my body as if my eyes were looking down from the ceiling upon Tom's
body fucking his climactic crescendo into my cunt from the rear. The 
vision of overwhelming passion was playing out before me like I was a
spirit watching from a cloud. I knew I was dying but no longer cared. I
reached for Tom's shaft as it was about to explode, my mouth pulling its 
surging cream from deep within his balls. He collapsed on the bed, his 
body jerking as he groaned mightily.

At the final moment, as I screamed in abandon, Leo rammed his broad,
steaming cock into my wide open mouth. My lips clamped upon it as my
tremoring tongue gripped the underside of his cock. I was swallowing his
warm sperm as it spurted through the walls of my mouth. My mind was
spinning in rapturous torrents, capturing the lusty thoughts of every man
in the room.

The final orgasm rippled electrically through my cunt in a massive
explosion. I imagined a skyscraper collapsing into rubble. My body was
shuddering like leaves in a hurricane.

After we'd fluttered to earth, we showered. I was lathered and 
rinsed by the four men until my skin squeaked. We returned to the bedroom. 
I collapsed face down on the waterbed. The others lay across my body. We
drifted asleep but were awakened an hour later by the alarm Bill had
set on the headboard. Leo took the final ten minutes before they had to
leave; I guess he wanted to prove he was the ultimate stud. Leo rolled
me above him until I was straddling his hips, then fucked me twice more. It
wasn't that erotic; the other men were laughing and muttering, "Come off
it, Leo!" and "You think you're a teenager again?"  I gladly took all he
could give. It had been the greatest night of my life.

Bill and I still relive that night in the privacy of our bedroom, but
for reasons too numerous to tell here, its history wasn't repeated. The
rapport and friendship established with these men in a non-sexual way was
amazing to me. Occasionally in a social situation, a coded remark is 
dropped by one of them with a wink. Their wives and other friends are
unaware of the meanings of these remarks. And not one of them would dare
offend Bill by suggesting to me that we get together on the side.

******************
To be continued...
******************

********  CHAPTER 6 ************


                          OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES



                                  "BROTHER"



                              By Bill and Ellen



                               ELLEN'S STORY:



     I hadn't realized why I was frequently attracted to younger men 

until my brother Roger visited us for three days last November. 



     Although I don't dwell upon the past, I cannot help remembering 

now and then the tragedy of our youth. Roger was just a year younger 

than me when we learned our parents were killed in an air accident; 

the incident was particularly newsworthy because of the spectacularly 

horrible way in which the airliner had plowed through a Southern 

California neighborhood. Television and newspaper coverage kept the 

awful circumstances before our eyes for days thereafter.



     We were alone in our home for three days, awaiting our aunt and 

uncle from Central Ohio to come for us. I was to live with them only a 

year before leaving to accept a job in another city; Roger stayed with 

them through four years of college and R.O.T.C., after which he joined 

the Army. He's now a paratrooper.



     While we awaited my aunt and uncle who were driving cross country 

because they were afraid of flying, my brother and I were each 

emotionally vulnerable. Adult family friends visited daily, bringing 

us food and trying to keep our minds occupied with thoughts of the 

future, not the past or present.



     The night before my aunt and uncle arrived, after Roger had 

showered, I heard him sobbing. He was still in the bathroom. I was 

nude, two rooms away in my closet, looking through a line of clothes 

for my pajamas. I gave up on the pj's, tugged my terry robe from a 

hanger, and tied it about me as I walked to the bath. 



     The door was ajar. I pushed it open to find Roger, leaning over a 

sink as he splashed water in his face to clear his tears. Having just 

toweled off, his black hair was mussed and glistening.



     A dark blue towel was wrapped around his lower torso. His eyes 

were reddened as he looked up at my mirrored reflection and murmured, 

"I don't think I can take it anymore."



     Although he's now three inches taller, at that time Roger and I 

were the same height. I hugged him to me. Our bodies pressed together 

as I rocked his head on my shoulder.



     He seemed dazed by the emotional storm. He shuddered as he 

whimpered, "I don't want to stay in my room alone! Can I sleep in your 

bed tonight?"  



     I led him by the hand to my room. Preoccupied with despair, he 

hadn't seemed to notice that his towel had fallen away as we entered 


my bedroom door. I averted my eyes from his smooth, nude body and 

invitingly patted the pillow alongside me on my small bed. I turned 

off the lamp, then billowed the thin white sheet over us as he crawled 

in beside me. He held me agonizingly like he was afraid he'd fall into 

some abyss as he lay quietly in the darkness. Like me, Roger was 

slender and long-limbed, his body as firm as mine from swimming and 

playing softball; we made a good fit, I'd thought as our arms twined 

around the other's neck.



     I smiled when he was finally slumbering, his cheek laying over 

mine. Just minutes later, I fell asleep. 



     Sometime in the early morning hours, I awoke. My robe was open 

from the shoulders, exposing my warm nakedness. Roger, as always, 

snored lightly. My body was pressed to his nudity from our stomachs 

down to our legs. His body felt feverish. His hands were curled 

beneath his chin, his elbow resting between my breasts. 



      Although I couldn't see his young penis which had swelled as he 

slept, I could feel its broad and lengthy firmness bulging between the 

vee of my legs. The pressure against my vagina had awakened me. 

Although I knew I shouldn't be feeling this way, I was electrified 

with the sexuality of my brother's naked flesh against mine. 



     I started to push him away until I remembered his crying. Not 

wishing to awaken him, I lay that way for hours. Unmentionable images 

were running through my mind. His manhood burgeoned as his body 

twitched in sleep-induced dreams, causing me to shudder as it now and 

then slid ever so slightly through my legs and the furrows of my 

virgin womanhood. It was torture and it was pleasure.  I didn't want 

to remain in that agonizing position, yet didn't want to move. 



     His head twisted to rest on my right breast, his lips brushing 

the nipple. He slept on. His mouth opened slightly, nursing a breast 

as if his dreams had returned him to infancy. 



     His tongue and lips worked over by breast with soft slurping 

sounds. His hips moved about, causing his penis to wriggle against my 

vagina. My hand, trapped beneath his head, cupped the back of his 

neck. I was fighting an urge to pull him even closer. 



     I was going out of my mind with desire; but the knowledge that to 

do so was wrong prevented me from responding. Eventually, the will 

power I'd mustered to pretend I was unaffected left me exhausted. I 

fell again into a deep slumber. For the rest of the night, I dreamed 

of a faceless man lying alongside me in the darkness as the two of us 

fondled the other.



     In the morning, we awoke to the jangling of the alarm clock 

perched on the headboard above me. I folded my arm behind me, afraid 

to touch him. Roger's face was pressing warmly into my tender breast. 

His lips enveloped the firmness of my excited nipple. His eyes 

fluttered open, rolling up to meet mine. Only slightly awakened, he 

glanced to the inviting breast before him and rolled back to the 

pillow. I couldn't have admitted that I didn't want him to stop 


nursing my pulsating nipple. 



     The erotic dreams had left me in a state of hyper-excitement. 

Except for my reaching to shut off the alarm, I hadn't moved. The room 

was dim, still an hour away from sunrise. Roger's manhood was even 

more aroused, its bulging base now throbbing against my clitoris. He 

looked shocked for a fleeting moment, then pretended nothing was 

wrong. 



     We stared at the other, both in a state of half-sleep. I could no 

longer control my frenzied body; my small hips hunched slowly back and 

forth, massaging my clitoris over the lengthy curvature of his 

hardness. Our eyes closed. His elbow slid away from the young fullness 

of my breasts, his tremoring hands gently cupping and stroking the 

mounds. My nipples jutted out in excitation, bouncing beneath his 

touch.



     I slowly became aware of my arm I'd folded behind me; my dangling 

hand was touching his hard penis that extended just beyond the back of 

my legs. My fingers were drawn to it, stroking the tip. The 

manipulations caused it to pulse and jitter, further arousing my 

stimulated body. 



      Raising my leg slightly, I bent my knee forward to rest on 

Roger's hip. My slender hand encompassed his monstrous member through 

the back of my legs. I gently pulled his young manhood's outer skin. 



      Although I'd had no such experience before, I knew just what to 

do. Just a month before, I'd crawled to the backyard shed's roof to 

watch the stars. As I was laying flat on my back, my hands folded 

beneath my neck, I glanced toward a barely perceptible movement coming 

from Roger's lighted window.  Roger was standing alongside his bed, 

his hand pumping against his groin. I'd sat up, bracing my elbow 

against the slant of the roof, and peered down to his window. 



       And I knew immediately! He was MASTURBATING! Although the 

fascinating vision held no sensuality for me at the time, I was 

enthralled! I remember grinning as I watched; it was just all so 

INTERESTING!



      And now, yes, in my sleepy turmoil, I knew just what to do. With 

my hand around my leg to my back, I was masturbating him! I remember 

my fearful surprise as I learned the skin seemed so thin against the 

pulsating muscle beneath. My fist was trembling like a leaf on our 

backyard maple tree fluttering in the wind.



      I shivered in the intoxication of the moment, feeling his 

manhood coated with my own heated vaginal oils. It was all so new to 

me! Our first sexual excitement was mounting in a tempestuous storm! 

His eyes opened a moment, then closed again. He moved in and out of my 

legs, and all the time stroking my heaving breasts. We gasped. His 

manhood wrested through my fingers. As I moved my palpitating hips to 

and fro, I pressed my clitoris madly firmly to his throbbing hardness.



     He arched his back, his lips pulling on my nipple, and moaned.  




My breath hissed out like steam from a radiator. His body tensed, his 

arms tightening about me. He shuddered and groaned as my sensitive 

furrows sensed his orgasmic fluid rocketing through his manhood. The 

soft, warm liquid splashed through my hand, onto the back of my legs. 

I squealed, grasping his penis firmly. Our bodies shimmied as his 

teeth bit into my nipple, the pain causing tears to pool in my eyes.



     Our eyes snapped open in unison, fully awakened, realizing what 

we were doing; then, his face reddened. Each of us trembled, slowly 

pulling the sheet back. The robe was still open to my sides, my naked 

flesh pressed to his feverish and shuddering nudity. Roger puddled the 

sheet to the floor behind him. 



     He pulled away from me slowly. His manhood seemed interminably 

long and as it glided moistly through my legs. An electric shock 

rippled through me. I didn't close my robe as he rose to a sitting 

position, then stood, turning to stare down at my breasts and the 

curling mass of soft hair covering my pulsing groin. I rubbed the 

wetness on my hand against the pillow. My full lips parted in 

disbelief at what we'd done; yet, in my frenzied state, I kept pushing 

it to the back of my mind. 



      I was fascinated by his jutting length and the thickness of his 

black pubic hair. The purplish red tip glistened in the pale morning 

light; the bulging veins that ran the length of his excited rod 

throbbed, enhancing the erotic thunderstorm that was rumbling through 

me. My lips trembled. My face glowed red. I was unable to tear my eyes 

away from his member, bobbing and pointing toward ME! I'd wanted to 

reach out and pull on it again; but now, fully awake, I restrained my 

urge. His gaze roamed my quaking body. 



     Although I couldn't have admitted it, my hips were rolling and 

thrusting like I was inviting him back to the bed! My face burned in a 

shameless blush. 



     He controlled himself, now feigning disinterest, as if it hadn't 

occurred. Lifting his towel from the floor at the doorway, he mumbled, 

"Want corn flakes for breakfast?" 



     Licking the fullness of my pale dry lips, I glanced to his pole 

pushing the towel out from his groin. I rolled on my back, feeling the 

puddle of his warm creamy liquid spreading beneath me. Closing and 

tying the robe, I went along with the charade, rose from the bed, and 

said, "Sure, I'll fix it." The image of his hardness, thrusting from 

the thick pubic hair, flitted through my mind the entire morning.



     And the incident was never mentioned between us again. Until a 

month ago, when Roger visited us.



                                BILL'S STORY: 



     I'd always liked Ellen's brother. He seemed to be the perfect 

soldier, like he was married to the Army. As handsome as Ellen is 

beautiful, Roger looks like he stepped from a recruiting poster - 


short black hair, athletic, poised, with a countenance of calm 

thoughtfulness.



     Although I could understand his love for the military, I hadn't 

cared as much for the Marines, even after giving the corps nine years 

of my life before leaving for civilian life to practice engineering. 

Now, I think better of it in retrospect because I tend to remember 

only the good parts. Roger, though, seems to live for nothing except 

the next jump from an airplane, the ten-mile runs, and all the 

unquestioned regimen that had once irritated the hell out of me. Like 

Ellen, he never swears, doesn't smoke, and drinks nothing alcoholic 

but a couple of glasses a wine a month, maybe even less. He laughs 

easily, never complains, and never runs out of jokes. Yeah. Clean 

jokes.



     Ellen of course had told me about the incident with her brother, 

which fascinated me. During his second night of his three-day visit 

with us,  we were swimming in our backyard pool while Roger was out 

jogging. 



     The moon's narrow sliver of gold hung in the black sky. The 

distant dining room's small window of light spilled across the trimmed 

lawn and onto the dark waters of the swimming pool, providing the only 

other illumination. Ellen swam to the pool ladder, grasped a rung, and 

said, "I think I know now why I'm often attracted to men a few years 

younger than me." It was out of the blue; we hadn't even been talking 

about Roger. 



     I started to ask why but somehow knew exactly what she was 

thinking. I acknowledged, "Because of your brother." I raised my 

eyebrows questioningly. "Right?"



     She nodded affirmatively and giggled, "Too weird for words, isn't 

it?" She clambered up the ladder, stripped off her swimsuit and lifted 

her beach robe from the pool deck.



     I paddled back a couple of feet from the pool's rim, looked up at 

her as she was toweling off, and suggested, "Why don't you tell him?"  



     She looked shocked, responding, "Oh, I couldn't!" 



     I crawled from the pool and reached for the towel. Draping my 

suit alongside hers on the lawn chair to dry in the night air, I 

picked up the other robe, pushing my arms through its sleeves as I 

walked behind her through the darkened hedges and into the house.  I 

cinched my robe and said, "Who knows? He could've been disturbed over 

the memory. Talking it out could solve some problems." 



     Looking back, I don't really think I believed what I was saying, 

that the memory bothered her brother. He was one of the most well 

adjusted men I'd known. But I added, "I'm sure he hasn't forgotten 

it." Perhaps if I'd thought more about my deeper motives, I wouldn't 

have pursued the conversation, but eventually Ellen agreed that just 

bringing the subject up would be harmless. 




     We were sitting in nothing but our robes at the kitchen bar, 

drinking tea while awaiting Roger to return from his nightly jog. 

Ellen thought over my suggestion, then turned from the bar stool, 

smiled with an agreeable nod, and walked toward the hallway.



     I asked, "Where are you going?"



     She returned a half minute later and said, "Just removed the 

towels from the bathroom." 



     I was puzzled.



     Just moments later, Roger knocked, opened the front door, and 

strode into the foyer. He was dressed in yellow running shorts and 

jogging shoes. A silver military chain dangled about his neck. He 

grinned, sweat running from his black hair down his face. He waved at 

us, and mumbled, "Going to the shower! Join you in a minute."



     When he closed the door, I turned to Ellen and grinned in 

realization at what she'd done, "O-kay. So he's going to have to ask 

for a towel, and you're going to take it to him."



     She bit her lip, smiled, and acknowledged, "Uh-huh." My nostrils 

flared slightly at the fresh smell of a cologne she'd splashed on 

while she'd been in the hallway.



     Just two minutes later, Roger was calling from the half opened 

door. Ellen pulled a couple of rose tinted towels from the closet and 

walked in, holding out a towel, draping the other over her arm.



     I glanced down the hall to the bath mirror's reflection through 

the open door. He didn't cover himself as he dried off; Ellen was 

leaning against the sink and chatting with him as he ran an electric 

razor over his late-evening stubble. He wrapped the towel around his 

hips. 



     They joined me at the kitchen bar. As they talked, they seemed 

detached and unconcerned with the out-of-place occurrence. She'd been 

casually talking to him while he was nude! I was amazed. 



     I reached to the liquor cabinet and retrieved a spectacular 

potion I'd intermixed for special occasions, a third-quart of grain 

alcohol with white wine, the taste disguised by a couple of drops of 

tobo oil as I'd learned while stationed in Turkey. 



     I pulled 3 wine glasses from our cupboard and poured; and 

although they kept insisting they'd drunk enough, I kept pouring their 

glasses full. And when we were later sitting in the floor and talking, 

my back to a wall and their backs against the couch, I rested my elbow 

on the coffee table and filled their glasses again. Although Ellen 

drinks very little, she knew that wine mixed with pure alcohol has a 

lightening-like, numbing effect; I found it interesting that she 

wasn't offering any comments other than just calling it "wine."



     They'd lost count of the drinks. Roger stared blankly at the 


glass I'd just refilled and laughed, "No more! I'm drunk." I knew he 

wasn't kidding; I'd been sipping only a single glass of the potent 

potion and was more adept than either of them at holding liquor; yet I 

could feel electrical currents racing through me. The tobo oil would 

make it worse; it's like eating butter before drinking; you don't 

really know you're drunk when your stomach's coated with butter; then 

as the oil's absorbed, the full effect hits at once.



     "Me too," Ellen giggled; but she took one more swallow, set the 

glass on the table, and waved toward the bottle negatively. She added, 

"That's IT for ME! My head will be the size of a basketball by 

morning." They thought about the image of a basketball balancing on 

Ellen's shoulders an instant, then burst out laughing in unison, each 

stone drunk for the first time in their lives.



     I walked to the far side of the kitchen bar where I was just able 

to see their reflections in the mirrored wall. Folding my arms, I 

leaned my back against the refrigerator, watched, and listened. 



     Ellen sighed, patting his hand across her bare legs that were 

jutting from her hip-length terry robe. She reminisced, "Earlier 

tonight, I was remembering something similar to this that once 

happened between us."



     Her brother's eyes were glazed. He was having trouble 

comprehending their simple conversation and mumbled, "What's that?" 



     She told him. He hesitated before answering, then nodded, saying, 

"I think about that night every once in a while."



     Although Ellen hadn't noticed, her white beach robe had fallen 

open as she leaned forward, exposing generous proportions of her 

breasts and her slim stomach. Roger stole occasional glances at her 

semi-bared breasts as she breathed softly.  From where Roger was 

sitting, he glimpsed the brownish circle of a nipple. 



     She flattened the palm of his hand against her thigh; the tips of 

her fingers brushed his muscular arm. She asked, "What do you think 

about?"          



     He described the incident just as Ellen had told me, stopping now 

and then in his recollection as if he kept forgetting his train of 

thought. And eventually he'd recalled it in great detail. The effect 

of the alcohol and the sensuality of the remembrance were having a 

noticeable effect on him.



     Her senses dazed, Ellen hadn't noticed his engorged member 

pushing the soft towel around his hips toward the ceiling. She smiled 

softly, "That incident never caused me any misgivings. I just wanted 

to know if it had a lasting effect on you."



     He looked sheepish, his forehead wrinkled slightly as the corners 

of his eyes sought hers. "I think of it in a fond way." Cautiously, he 

reached for another sip of wine and went on, "I probably shouldn't say 

this." He gulped the wine. "For years thereafter, I'd wanted it to 


happen again."



     They were still chatting when I strolled back in the room but 

stopped talking as they looked up at my intrusion. Turning to Roger, 

Ellen said, "Oh, don't worry. Bill knows all about it. He gets excited 

every time I tell him the details." She could never have admitted that 

if she had been as cold sober as I was. 



     They laughed when I nodded and said, grinning, "Most exciting 

thing I'd ever heard."



     I rolled my tongue thoughtfully against the inside of my cheek 

and said, "I didn't really think of it as incest. I mean you didn't 

have intercourse."



     They mumbled a few thoughts about my questionable concept, then 

half heartedly agreed.



     I added, "It's possible to have sensual experiences which aren't 

incestuous." After they'd asked me to explain, I went on, "Well, for 

example. Suppose you were laying on your back." I gestured for Roger 

to lay back on the floor. He complied. 



     Ellen's eyes were glazed as she stared down at his engorged 

penis, now raising the towel like a flag pole. Her lips parted in 

surprise, forming an oval, as she inhaled a wispy breath. She looked 

away with a slight jerk of her head like she was trying to clear her 

head of the alcohol-induced trance, then again turned to look at him.



     I suggested that Ellen sit over his groin. Although intoxicated, 

she was reluctant; but as Roger also urged her on, she straddled him, 

her naked legs over the towel covering his hips. Somehow this created 

an immediate bond that even I could feel to form between them, as if I 

weren't even there. Ellen's eyes widened as she stared transfixed at 

her brother. His facial muscles twitched as he glanced down to where 

Ellen's robe parted slightly, exposing a portion of her shaved mound. 

This must have seemed a bit unreal to them, but anyone who's drunk 

will accept almost anything as normal. I waited as they looked at the 

other, breathing heavily. 



     Ellen gulped, unable to look away from the rising protrusion of 

the towel covering his groin. She asked me, her voice tremoring, "What 

now?" Roger's lips quivered. 



     I reached to untie Ellen's robe, pulling it open. She looked at 

me questioningly, gasping as she started to re-tie the belt. Then, she 

hesitated, turning her gaze downward to Roger's innocent face. He 

nodded his assent; she returned the affirmative gesture, allowing the 

loose folds of her robe to remain open to her brother's full view. In 

his alcoholic stupor, her brother raised himself slightly on his 

elbows, blinking as he gazed to the fullness of her breasts and to her 

groin's smoothly shaved mound. Ellen's jaw sagged slightly, her stare 

affixed in awesome wonder on her brother's protruding towel. Roger 

again lay his back flat on the floor.




     My tongue was thickened and dry. I could feel the erotic heat 

irradiating between them. The warmth of her body had allowed a faint 

wisp of cologne to drift through the room. 



     I tugged at his towel that was separating them. Ellen 

accommodated me by wriggling slightly, allowing me to pull it away. 

Her bare thighs hovered an inch above his groin a moment as if she 

were still undecided.  When he offered no response, she settled slowly 

down on him again. 



      Each gasped in unison as their naked flesh slid together. She 

leaned forward and spread her fingers, bracing her hands against his 

chest. Her gaping robe hung just over her shoulders, down her sides, 

the way the white terry robe of her youth had exposed her nudity to 

her brother's eyes so many years before.



     Her body tremored slightly at the close intimate contact of his 

long penis with the rim of her cuntal lips. Roger's length was 

impressive; his broad member twitched in excitation as the purplish 

tip brushed the curvature of her soft breast. Her hips moved just 

slightly, pushing her groin gently against his penis in an involuntary 

motion. But I'd noticed it, and so had Roger. He'd shuddered as her 

warm womanhood brushed against his pole. It was clear she was fighting 

an urge to move about.



     I leaned back against the wall and waited. Deciding I may have 

already pushed this too far, I offered no further suggestions. But I 

didn't need to; the room's air was charged with the sexual electricity 

between them.  



     And now, Ellen no longer asked me for instructions. Her thighs 

squeezed his hips, relaxed, and squeezed again. Rogers legs cautiously 

stroked her inner thighs, his hips rolling slightly, causing his 

lengthy cock to brush a wide swathe across her stomach.



     Ellen's body was stilled but intense; but when he moaned, as if 

giving eager permission, she began moving her pussy lips back and 

forth, her sweet smelling lubricant coating his cock as it was pushed 

flat against his stomach with each movement of her hips. His blood-

engorged member fit her smooth furrow like a ball in a socket as if 

they were made for each other. Of course; yes, I thought, they were! 

Each made for the other! I gulped my second glass of wine.



     It was obvious her clitoris was now hyper-excited as her bald 

flesh slid over the broad pole, creating the necessary friction. The 

wine had taken its full toll, releasing all inhibitions. Her lips 

formed a circle, her body shivering. Immersed in lust, she moaned, 

"Annnhhhhh! Ooooohhhh!" Her groin pressed more firmly against his long 

cock and hairy stomach.



     He groaned, "Oh, God, it feels...it feels GOOD! Ellen! Even 

better than I'd IMAGINED!"



     I arose quietly and walked out of the room, lingering in the 

darkness of the hallway to watch the rest - of what I'd begun - to 


unfold. They were writhing together in slow, measured movements.



     Ellen increased the tempo of her hips and whimpered, "UNGHHH! 

OOOHHH! Oh, YES, Roger! It feels GOOD! I don't want it to stop. It's 

making me so fucking horny, I don't know what to DO!"



     Roger was now lifting his hips, matching each thrust as her 

aching cunt trapped his cock against his belly. Her pussy lips and 

clitoris slid down his cock's length each time he lifted his hips. She 

thrust her hips, moving her hot wet flesh back up its massive length.



     "Oh, GOD!" Roger groaned. "I know I shouldn't be enjoying this! 

But I just can't HELP it!" 



     I smiled, knowing there was no turning back for either of them.



     Ellen whimpered, "Don't stop, brother." Tears pooled in her eyes, 

streaking her cheeks. She whispered lustily, "I love it too! Your 

COCK! It's so BIG! So HOT! I love it more than ANYTHING, Roger! I'll 

do anything you WANT if you'll just keep doing what you're doing!" 



     In the hallway's darkness, I opened my robe. I began pumping my 

cock with a fury. With each forward thrust of Ellen's hips, Roger 

heaved his loins upward. Her excited groin wriggled as his cock 

slithered up the furrow of her eager, heated cunt.  With each ebbing 

flow beneath her clitoris, she squealed in agonizing pleasure.



     Ellen thought I'd left for the bedroom. She whispered to Roger, 

"Oh GOD! I can't believe what I'm FEELING! I can't believe what I want 

to ask you! I want you to fuck me, Roger! WOULD you? Would you FUCK 

your sister? WILL you?"



     Inflamed with lust, Roger grasped her hips.  He nodded in 

enthusiastic agreement. He breathed, "I'd love to. I'd LOVE to fuck 

you!"



     She rolled away to lay on her back, her legs splayed. Her hips 

were grinding an euphoric invitation to fuck her. Her eyes were wide, 

her lips ovaled. She tremored fearfully like a trapped rabbit facing a 

predator as her brother's nude body hovered expectantly above her. 



     His cock twitched, jutting out in a threatening gesture. His face 

took on a determined demeanor like that of a bombardier about to taste 

the fruits of a perfect mission. The massive poker poised to dive into 

the red hot coals of her depths that were now blazing like a furnace. 

He shuddered wantonly as Ellen's quivering fingers combed through his 

thick black patch of pubic hair. He murmured, "My balls are hard as 

rocks! I couldn't stop now if I wanted to. And I don't WANT to!" His 

comment was also a question, allowing her time to refuse, to push him 

away; yet I knew that neither of them could stop now. 



     Ellen's reactions exceeded my expectations. Gazing at the long 

penis menacing her furry mound, she pleaded, "Oh, YES, brother! I WANT 

you to fuck me! I can't WAIT! I want you to fuck me so bad it hurts!" 




     She quivered her cunt up. Grasping his throbbing tool with her 

small fist, she pulled it toward her vaginal lips. Ellen's raging 

passion caused her body to blush a flaming red. Now, his prick had 

grown to a particularly lusty state, reaching inches beyond the 

breadth of his sister's fist. She stroked his long hardness, then 

pulled it to the mouth of her trembling pussy. Upon contact with its 

tip, she squealed, "OOOOOHHHH! GOD-D-D-D-D!" 



     Her long slender legs involuntarily wrapped around his hips; and 

then, as if her legs had a mind of their own, her legs tugged his 

loins toward her. His cock entered her tight muscle-rimmed opening as 

she writhed beneath him in unconcealed desire.



     My heart was thumping like a sledgehammer. A hot breath escaped 

my lips. Ellen lifted her hips eagerly to his massive member. They 

shared a sigh. Their mutual pledges of sibling love sounded like a 

ceremony as their bodies were about to be united. Her cuntal folds 

enveloped the head of his prick, then slid around his tool as he 

entered her. 



     He flinched and moaned as he forced inward.  Her vaginal muscles 

fearfully contracted, then relaxed, allowing his cock to spread the 

mouth of her cunt still wider. She arched her back, grinding her hips 

against the softness of the carpet as her brother's tool slid snugly 

into place. 



     Sobbing ecstatically, Ellen screamed, "Oh, Roger! You're KILLING 

me! I LOVE it! I love YOU! You're so fucking BIG! I can't STAND it! Do 

it! FUCK... FUCK ME-E-E-E-E!" There was nothing contradictory about 

her fevered pleas. Her brother was clearly huge, yet Ellen wouldn't 

have wanted him to stop. Her pain was replaced by unbelievable 

pleasure! She cried out in the heights of rapture known only to those 

who have tasted the white heat of forbidden pleasures.



     I'd never seen anything like it! Ellen and Roger were boiling 

with lust. Their bodies thrashed against the other like hellish 

morsels in a bubbling cauldron. Her nipples were dark and swollen as 

her brother's mouth lathed her soft breasts. He was riding his sister 

with a fury. Bucking against his groin, she thrilled in their 

unspeakable taboo, a tumultuous sweetness they'd never known. Her 

hands ran up and down his torso. The inflamed yolks of her eyes were 

wild, rolling in wide circles as his tool skewered her steaming 

channel. Her eager cunt sucked in his lengthy member like a muscular 

hand milking a bloated udder.



     Ellen's knees pressed against his body. Her gyrating groin was 

pliant and responsive, yielding to Roger's full lusty length. 

Transfixed at the long cock boring deeper into her cunt, she wiped the 

tears from her cheeks. Sobbing in erotic abandon, she whimpered, "Oh 

GOD, I'm so HAPPY! I want you to fuck me FOREVER!" She returned his 

ardor in full measure as his tool plowed on, throbbing through her 

cuntal walls like a resonating telephone pole.



     "I will," he promised, his muscular hips ramming between her 

legs. 




     He groaned. He was about to come! He was shoving his hips forward 

savagely, his cock slamming into her like a jackhammer.



     Her body blushed as she accepted it eagerly; and, now, lost in a 

whirlpool of lust, Ellen wailed in ecstasy, "YI-I-I-E-E-E!" Her head 

thrashed from side to side, her long hair flailing the air. She was 

returning his unbridled passion in full measure.



     Ellen bucked ferociously against his ramming groin. She gasped, 

"Oh, Roger! DO it to me, Roger! I'm going to come! You're so BIG! And 

in so DEEP! Oh GOD! I'm...I'm..." She was biting her lower lip, a 

trickle of blood streaking down her cheek and neck. Her long legs 

stroked his muscular back. She enwrapped her arms about his neck as 

the soft fullness of her lips pressed against his. The blood from her 

lip was staining the carpet. 



     As the orgasmic storm was about to overtake them, their tongues 

twined; their eyes closed to prepare their fevered minds and bodies 

for the fullest of pleasure.



     And then it happened! Both shuddered and moaned amid the 

explosive force of her brother's fluids bursting through her molten 

channel. Ellen screamed like a banshee, "OOOHHH, JESUS-S-S-S-S-S-S!" 

She was coming savagely. She threw back her head with a long erotic 

wail, relishing his spurting cock throbbing within her; his warm lava 

erupted and cascaded through her depths for an eternity of a half-

minute; her depths were overflowing with his endlessly gushing orgasm. 



     Her toes pressed against the carpet like a ballerina's. She 

raised her hips, forcing her shuddering groin against his as the 

orgasmic after-shocks flooded through them. Her vaginal muscles were 

in rapturous spasm, milking every last drop from his ejaculating prick 

as her cunt pulled tightly on it again and again.



     I was coming also, my knees buckling as I leaned against the 

wall, spurting into the robe.



     They collapsed into a cuddle, his cock still in her tight depths. 

They grinded greedily against the other, fiery flesh against flesh. 

His lips crushed hers as each sibling hugged and stroked the other's 

pulsating nakedness. 



     They remained like that until Ellen murmured, "If I were any 

fucking drunker, I'd be on another planet." They laughed 

uncontrollably, then quieted.



     Ellen was staring into the deep blue pools of her brother's eyes. 

His jaw was slack, his mouth dry. He grasped his glass of wine from 

the coffee table, gulped half of it down, then touched the glass to 

his sister's lips. She drank it greedily, unwilling to allow the peak 

of their intoxication to slip away. He then reached for Ellen's half-

full glass and repeated the ceremony.



     They were completely stoned. After laying in unspoken adoration 


for several minutes, he arose. They stumbled toward the shower. As 

Ellen led him down the hallway, she was pulling his penis up and down 

in her small fist; it was softening but retaining its impressive 

length. They'd left the bathroom door ajar; I watched from the 

hallway's darkness, their bodies reflected in the broad mirror that 

faced the shower stall. They entered, closing the glass door. The 

pinkness of their flesh gleamed through the dim lighting as the shower 

spray hissed. Steam swirled about their bodies. 



     I could hear a conversation but was unable to determine what they 

were saying. She kneeled before him, her eyes rolling up to watch his 

face as she ravenously gulped his length in her mouth. The softness of 

her lips glided along his prick until his mammoth cock had risen to 

its full, excited state.



     He cupped the fullness of her breasts, stroking her round 

softness. He pulled her to her feet, his tongue working its way down 

to her shaved cunt. He knelt before her as if in worship. His fingers 

stroked the smoothness of her mound as his tongue flicked against her 

clitoris. 



     Her hips gyrated eagerly against his mouth as she tossed her head 

in wild abandon.



     He stood, turning Ellen away from him, forcing her hands flat 

against the red tiled wall. 



     Ellen leaned into the wall, turning her head to look behind her; 

she gazed down upon his broad swollen cock, the head of which 

glistened a dark wet purple. She spread her legs wide in eager 

expectation to accept his lengthy gift. Her lips trembled. She 

shuddered heavily, pushing her smooth, virgin-like cunt back against 

him in an eager, grinding motion. 



     Her brother's eyes surveyed her perfect body, his hands sliding 

down her back and cupping her buttocks lovingly.  Grasping her thigh 

with one hand and his massive cock with the other, he leaned forward, 

poising his weapon. She tensed fearfully as the tip made contact with 

the mouth of her swollen cuntal lips from the rear. He entered slowly 

at first; then with a sudden shove, he sheathed his broad sword to the 

hilt. The savage onslaught caused her mouth and eyes to open widely in 

surprise. They were like dancers as his thick rod savagely slithered 

into her blistering depths. 



     His sister was sobbing, "Uh Huhhh! Uh Huhhh! Shove your brotherly 

cock deep into me, Roger! Fuck me! FUCK me like you LOVE me, Roger!"



     With each barbarous thrust, her buttocks flattened against the 

hardness of his stomach. She moaned in joyful anguish as he worked 

through her depths. Whimpering, she twirled her fingers around her 

clitoris as she rotated her hips in fervid passion. She squealed, "Oh, 

GOD!  I'm COMING!  DO it, Roger!  FUCK it, Roger!  SHOVE it IN me, 

Roger!  Oh, ROGER-R-R-R-R!  FUCK ME-E-E-E-E!"



     Ellen's back arched expectantly, then she tremored, her hands 


reaching behind her to grasp his hips as the orgasm throbbed through 

her. She sobbed, biting her lower lip, as tears rolled down her 

cheeks. She grasped the bulging base of his cock as it skewered 

through her creaming tunnel. 



     Roger's jaw slackened. He increased his tempo, ramming his tool 

home with a vengeance. His body jerked as he muttered, "I'm coming, 

Ellen!" 



     Ellen cried, "Oh YES!" as she pressed the nakedness of her 

quaking back against her brother's shuddering chest and stomach. She 

fucked her hips back and forth ecstatically and murmured, "I can FEEL 

it about to EXPLODE! OHHH YES-S-S-S!"



     He shuddered and groaned, lost in a tornado of passion.



     Ellen's body spasmed as she leaned forward, bracing her body as 

her fingernails clawed at the walls. 



     And then it happened! He exploded. She screamed at the sensation 

of his heated sperm, spurting like a mad volcano through her vaginal 

walls. She was crying, biting her shoulder in ecstasy.



     Wiping her tears away, She mewed, "I loved it! I LOVED it!" She 

turned, their arms twining like they had so many years before. And 

there they stood, beneath the warm spray of the streaming shower, 

their brotherly and sisterly flesh pressed together from head to toe. 



     When their bodies parted, she grasped his tool, stroking it 

lovingly to milk the last of its warm cream flowing through him. He 

mouthed her breasts. 



     Her nipples stood out like spikes as she smiled down on her 

little brother; she stroked the back of his head with her other hand, 

her fingers combing through his thick black hair. Her body trembling 

in after-shocks, she gyrated her satiated cunt against his muscular 

leg.



     Breathing heavily, I leaned against the hallway wall, as 

exhausted as if I'd been through the same exercise. That had been one 

hell of a night.



     You'd think this incident would have invited a repeat 

performance. It didn't, but I'd learned long ago that few things in 

life work out the way we think they should. 



     But Ellen and Roger laugh about it now, admitting it couldn't 

have happened if they hadn't been drunk. 



     Neither has ever been drunk again.



**********************

Continued in Chapter 7

**********************






     Neither has ever been drunk again.




                           OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES



                               "PASSION'S PEAK"        



                                  By  ELLEN 



     A development company recently contracted Bill for an engineering 

consulting job in the Carolinas. I usually don't go with Bill on his 

business trips, but because he would be gone for 3 weeks, I accompanied him. 

The firm's architect, Fred, and his wife, Linda, who were leaving on 

vacation, let us stay in their home. 



     We'd met them the previous evening, just before they drove to the 

airport. Fred insisted, "We don't mind you using our home. There isn't another 

house within a mile, so we're glad to have someone look after the property!" 

Fred's a personable, balding man in his forties. His wife, Linda, a secretary 

for a local banker, is in her late twenties, trim and attractive. 



     Perched atop a high mountain, the home overlooks expanses of 
forested mountains and the distant town where Bill would be working. Even 

if we'd tried, we couldn't have found a hotel room with this exquisite a view. 



     An hour after Bill had left for work the next morning, I awoke, lifting 

my robe from a chair. In my transparent nightgown, I walked to the kitchen. I 

heated a cup of diet hot chocolate, draped the robe over my lap and sat on the 

couch as I gazed out the broad window. The sun's crimson rays rippled through 

puffs of clouds, above a sea of fog extending almost to the mountain's peak. 



     Hearing an engine humming up the winding unpaved road toward the home, I 

slipped on the crimson satin robe. I peered through the front door's glass.  A 

blond, lean and muscular six footer, in a blue velvet blazer and white slacks, 

climbed from the jeep, reached for his briefcase, and strode toward the house. 

He knocked, then boomed, "Linda? Fred?" 



     I tied the robe's belt, opened the door, and smiled, "I'm Ellen. Linda 

and Fred left on vacation. My husband and I their 'official' house-sitters."



     Frustrated, he apologized, "Sorry. My name's Jack. I'm a vice president 

at the bank. Linda's my secretary. I was hoping I'd get here before they left. 

I'd told her that it would be a couple of months before I'd need some 

documents she's been working on at home. I received a call this morning from a 

bank customer that the deal's going through on Friday, so I hoped I'd catch 

Linda before she and Fred left." His voice was slow and modulated, a trace of 

a southern accent. He was, well...handsome.



     "Come in," I offered. Closing the door behind him, I suggested, "Perhaps 

we can find the papers." He thanked me, and we located the papers within 

minutes on the architect's desk, alongside an electric typewriter.



     He flipped through the file folder, saying, "Just like Linda! The work's 

finished. Letter perfect, research and all! She's the world's greatest 

secretary!"



     "Nice compliment," I commented, glancing to his gold wedding band. I 

gestured to my half-filled cup, asking, "You like hot chocolate?"



     Nodding affirmatively, he laughed, "I don't need to get to work so early 

anyway, since the work's finished."  



     As we talked on the couch, I explained why Bill wasn't home. Jack's blue 

eyes grazed my body. I glanced to a mirror atop a bookcase, seeing that my 

robe was open, exposing a generous portion of my breasts through the 

transparent nightgown. Pretending I hadn't notice his stare, I walked to the 

kitchen to fill a pitcher of chocolate as a frightful drumbeat fluttered 

within my breast.  I sat alongside him as I poured, my legs bent beneath me. 



     I appraised Jack's perfectly healthy complexion, not tanned but palely 

reddish. His eyes glinted, gazing now and then to the robe's open neck. We 

fell silent. Trembling, I licked the dryness of my lips. His hand brushed 

mine. My lips parted as he leaned to kiss me. My tremoring arms encircled his 

neck as his lips crushed mine. I whimpered. His hands were now beneath the 

robe, caressing my heaving breasts. My nipples were standing out like spikes.



     He stood, pressing my body to his, his long hardness throbbing against my 

groin and thigh.



     The telephone rang! I pulled away, lifting the receiver, and gulped, 

"VanRyser's residence." Jack's lips had enveloped a firm, reddened nipple.



     It was Bill. "I'm in a bind, Ellen. I need some records from a downtown 

law office, and the lawyers don't have a messenger. No one else is here. I was 

wondering if you could do it for me?"



     My voice quaking, I responded, "Just tell me where and how." I started to 

say playfully that he could sure pick some great times to call me, but I 

didn't want Bill to think I was complaining about the favor he was requesting. 

Anyway I doubted that Jack would have believed me, had I told him I had my 

husband's approval. Hanging up, I suggested to Jack, "Are you free tonight?"



     He was stunned, a bit nervous, so I lied, "Bill's leaving for Florida 

early this afternoon. I'm alone for the evening." 



     He smiled. His wife was in Toronto for a club convention, he told me, 

adding, "What time?"



     When I arrived at the developer's office, I told Bill what had happened. 



     Nodding his approval, he grinned, "I'll be home an hour before Jack 

arrives."



     At 7:30 that night, Bill was relaxing in a patio folding chair in the 

master bedroom's walk-in closet. I was sitting on the couch, attired in a 

white satin dress, slit to the thigh, pretending to read an Architect's Digest 

while I awaited Jack's arrival. I was too nervous to read. A feeling like fear 

grips my stomach when I feel aroused. My breath was huffing like a smokestack 

on a toy train. 



     The doorbell clanged.



     A 15-mile-an-hour wind was blowing through the foyer as I held the door 

open for Jack. At 5'8", I was only 4 inches shorter than Jack, but the red 

western boots beneath his dress gray jeans added 2 inches to his tall figure. 

He stepped in from the darkness, kissing me as he pushed the door closed 

behind him. Handing me a bottle of champagne, he breathed, "You're beautiful." 



     Smiling, I took his sheep-collared waist jacket, hung it in the 

entryway's closet, then turned on trembling knees to retrieve a couple of wine 

glasses. His blue western-style shirt was tailored like a glove. Handing him 

the frosted glass, I remarked, "You changed clothes." 



     He nodded affirmatively. "Uh huh. Showered, shaved, et cetera. Had to do 

something to calm my nerves tonight."  



     I'd clicked on the stereo and turned off all but the decorative red-

bulbed dining room chandelier, bathing the room in a soft crimson glow. A slow 

melody was drifting from the room's four speakers. He beckoned me to dance.



     My legs were shaking, my breasts heaving in desire. My slender body 

seemed particularly small and vulnerable as I leaned my head against his 

chest. Jack's fingers stroked my shoulder length black hair, his lips tracing 

a senuous path down my neck as he fondled the soft fullness of my breasts. His 

manhood  was growing in the tight slacks, throbbing against my groin and 

thigh, as his hips pressed mine. My tremoring body was now as pliant as putty, 

my heart pounding so hard I couldn't breathe.



     The song ended. I trembled as he swept me up to carry me down the long 

hallway to the master bedroom. Joyous tears pooled in my eyes. 



     I'd forgotten Bill who was watching from the closet, only a dozen feet 

from the bed where I lay in the dimness. I moaned beneath the tall form 

standing above me. Jack removed my shoes, then my red satin belt, unwrapping 

the dress to find I wore nothing beneath. He was staring at my breasts, my 

stomach, my shaved mound, as he popped loose the snaps of his western shirt. 

His slacks slid down his hips. 



     I gasped! His engorged manhood burst free, curving up more than a foot 

from a patch of thick dark hair. "Oh, my GOD!" I muttered, fearfully, my eyes 

wide. Although I was having second thoughts, I pulled his hips near. He knelt 

alongside the bed. My quivering lips parted. My mouth enwrapped his cock, 

gliding along the frightening length. 



     My eyes rolled up to look at him. His eyes were glazed with lust as he 

disengaged and lay alongside me. 



     I glanced to the closet door Bill had left ajar. Unable to see my 

husband, I knew he would now be feeling my own mad desire, pumping - as he 

always did while watching - his hardened cock in the closet's darkness. I 

closed my eyes, relishing Jack's gentle hands exploring the soft curves of my 

body. My nipples tingled as his lips closed around a hard, reddened spike. 

Impassioned fear churned within my stomach. I pursed my lips, hissing in 

desire, as his tongue twisted a winding path to my shaved mound. 



     I thrust my hips to his face, grinding my cunt against his mouth, my 

heart pounding a wanton drumbeat as his tongue twirled over my clitoris. I 

wailed at the thrills rippling through me like an electric current coursing 

across a thunder-laden sky. Clasping my thighs around his ears, I dug my heels 

into his back as fiery explosions blossomed within my pussy. Tears of joy 

streaked along my cheeks like rivulets of rain on a jetliner's windows. 



     I pulled him above me until his knees were straddling my breasts. He 

braced his arms against the headboard above me. My lips stretched widely as I 

took his rubbery monster in my mouth. My head bobbed as my tongue slurped 

along its length. Now, beyond lust, I was WORSHIPING this broad, purplish cock 

thrusting down the moistness of my throat. His instrument hammered into my 

mouth until my passion was unbearable. My voice muffled by his wide cock, I 

pleaded, "Mphhh! Please, Jack, I WANT you! I can't WAIT any longer!" 



     My hips gyrated expectantly. My long legs now opened eagerly to accept 

his huge curving cock floating toward the lips of my vagina. I shivered. 

Realizing that his manhood was much longer and broader than any I'd ever 

encountered, I whimpered with fright as he pushed past my cuntal folds. 



     He was splitting me apart! I screamed softly. Shocks rippled through my 

groin as he pressed on, my vaginal walls expanding incredibly for this giant 

tool. Yet I'd rather have died than have him stop now. Red coals of passion 

smoldered in my vagina. I loved every inch of this massive freight train 

slowly puffing into my smoking tunnel. 



     Jack was clearly aware of the difficulty, although I was crying as much 

in pleasure as in pain. Finally, he was as far into my gushing depths as he 

could push. My pain disappeared, replaced by blinding rapture. He rode me with 

a fury, my cunt now burning in our forbidden fires. My legs enveloped his 

hardened torso, my shaved mound quivering up to match every steaming thrust. 



     In the stunning thrills of fucking Jack, I'd forgotten Bill; but as I 

thrashed my head side to side, I glimpsed my husband's nude form step from the 

closet to watch Jack's magnificent weapon invading my quivering cunt. Logic 

and will abandoned me. I was far too lost in this hurricane of passion to 

acknowledge my husband by smiling at him as I normally would while he pumped 

his engorged cock. 



     The emblazoned yolks of Jack's eyes rolled as he plunged into me. I 

opened my mouth widely as if this would somehow expand my cunt further to 

accept Jack's final inches. 



     Bill jaw was sagging as he pumped his full length in a fury. Jack's body 

and mine pulsated with a radiance. Our explosion was imminent. Bill's intense 

stare told me that his mind and Jack's were now one.



     I cried out as Jack's flames united with mine into a blazing inferno. We 

shuddered with each thrust, our eyes glazing, craving the ultimate 

gratification - release from this overwhelming passion. 



     I mewed, "Oh, FUCK me, Jack! FUCK ME-E-E-E-E!" Raging tides of passion 

coursed through my body. Delerious, I screamed,"Oh! God help me, Jack! I LOVE 

you, Jack! I LO-O-O-O-VE YOU!" I loved him, loved in adultery, uniting in 

flesh that which was already in our minds and souls.



     And then! OH GOD! It happened in a blinding flash! We were coming in 

thunderous waves. Our orgasms burst in a super-nova of pleasure, raging 

through my creaming cuntal walls. My mind was exploding with fiery fragments 

that spider-legged like a billion falling stars across the evening skies.  



     Jack's lips grazed my breasts in the blissful after-glow of our adultery,  

our arms entertwined for an eternity of a half minute. As I fluttered to 

earth, I remembered Bill. 



     I looked over Jack's shoulder. My husband had returned to the closet and 

closed the door. 



     I smiled. Now, because of my unquenchable desire for the largest male 

member I'd ever known, my husband would have to remain there until morning. 

Jack would be mine for the night! Our journey into passion has just begun.



     Jack forced me to turn. My knees sunk into the red satin sheets like 

coconuts into quicksand, my hands braced against the wall above our headboard. 

His large hands grasped my hips. The yolks of my eyes rolled madly as his 

massive member was entering my vagina from the rear. I moaned. My husband was 

now in the closet, hearing all but unable to see us. 



     I turned to look back, awed by Jack's huge cock. My pursed lips formed an 

"oh" as I watched the instrument pushing deeply into my excitedly-lubricated 

cunt. I spread my knees ever wider as the length and breadth filled me. 

Sobbing in desire, I reached to caress his member behind me, my hand 

tremoring. He slowly thrust into me until I was whimpering with pleasure, "I 

LOVE you, Jack! I LOVE YOU!" I sucked in my breath at the stunning sensations. 

I stared as he fucked into my depths, my lips parted in wonder. We shared a 

sigh. I couldn't tear my eyes from his cock, which was now bulging at its 

base, in an impending explosion, as he groaned, his hips rolling and 

shuddering. 



     I gasped! Jack's firm manhood was expanding to an incredible size with 

the onrushing tidal wave of a massive orgasm. My clitoris fluttered unbearably 

as if to tell me we were to be coming together in a mind boggling finale! My 

back arched expectantly, my fingers digging into his hips behind me. I wailed, 

a long, modulated shreik of passion.



     And then, we were exploding in rapture! Crying with wild abandon, I 

tremored like a tree in an earthquake. His warm semen burst through my 

channel, the creamy fluid splattering my inner walls, washing over his cock, 

which was now erupting with a volcanic flow of steaming lava. I was sobbing, 

spinning, in a thrilling roller coaster ride down pleasure's glowing corridor.



     We fluttered back to earth, collapsing in gratification. His fingers 

stroked the small of my back as he whispered, "You're beautiful, you know."



     "Thank you," I responded softly, turning to him. "So are you." I stroked 

his cock, now soft and pliable, glistening beneath the moonlight that filtered 

through the transparent drapes.



     We showered in the orange glow of the bathroom's dim lighting. I was on 

my knees, pleasuring him with my lips until his magnificent manhood was 

curving up like a Turkish sceptre. 



     Pulling me to my feet, he forced my back to the red-tiled wall, pushing 

my legs apart. I struggled half-heartedly, even now afraid of his length and 

breadth, as the water pounded my face. Turning my head away from the shower's 

storm as he entered me, I shut my eyes, whimpering. My hands pressed against 

the shower walls in helpless abandon. Steam was rolling around the warm air of 

the shower like ocean spray in a Florida hurricane. As I thrashed beneath him, 

I banged my head against the shower door, causing its glass to shudder. My 

cuntal muscles were in spasm from his godawful size! 



     I loved him but feared him. "GOD!" I screamed as Jack's weapon slithered 

mercilessly through my depths, "Drive it INTO me, Jack! Your cock is KILLING 

me! FUCK me, Jack! Oh, GOD! You're splitting me APART!" I wrapped my legs 

around his hips, fucking back against him. He pressed my back to the floor as 

I cried out in passion. In the steam, his face was now unrecognizable, as if I 

were being fucked by an unknown lover in a warm fog. 



     Our desire went into overdrive. I was a galactic surfer, riding the 

highest pleasure wave, washing across a cosmic sea to a splendored shore. 

Logic and will had now abandoned me amid a firestorm on a planet in a timeless 

universe. My clitoris shuddered. The planet's core was about to erupt.



     And then! The glowing stars exploded in supernova. I was slipping through 

a long, shuddering tunnel in pleasurable darkness as I came, then came again, 

and again, and OH GOD, AGAIN, my mind shattering into gratified fragments.



     Finally, at 4 a.m., I lay sleeping, a leg over his, an arm over his 

chest, until a movement stirred me. He slumbered. I stared down at his awesome 

cock. I worshiped it with my lips and tongue, then slept again, awakening with 

the morning sun rippling through the windows. Jack was gone. 



     But Bill lay alongside me. Grinning.  



     Jack visited three times a week until Bill's project was completed. I 

gave myself eagerly. Finally, two nights before we were to return to Florida, 

I told Jack about my husband's penchant for "watching." 



     On our last night, the day before Thanksgiving, Jack, Bill, and I drank 

white wine as we watched a video in the family room. Jack sat alongside me on 

the floor, our backs against the couch, while Bill sat in a chair across the 

room. 



     Jack pulled me to him. We removed the other's clothing. I straddled him, 

lowering my hips as his long cock submarined through my molten channel. 

Moaning, I was impaled on his staff. Electric thrills throbbed through my 

legs. Jack's smooth skin brushed the insides of my thighs as he fucked me.



     Bill hovered above me, his arms braced on the couch. I unzipped his fly, 

pulling out his manhood. My tremoring lips glistened along Bill's length as 

Jack thrust his splendid tool through my steaming walls. 



     I was thankful as the two men fucked me. Thankful, because I love Bill. I 

also love adultery. Thankful, because I don't have to choose between the two. 

Thankful that my depths had never been so filled. 



                                   THE END



se 


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