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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
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A Write Mess (swingers)
by Anonymous Author
**
It was my correspondence course in creative writing that always
pushed the idea that you should write about what you know - that
which you'd actually seen, felt, thought and experienced.
I wanted to write about an anti hero - Richard, the wimpish husband
who was betrayed by his wife, slumped into the despair that he would
never again be a real man, only to emerge after a quick fling with a
snake charming Arab lady, as the guy who won his wife from the
arrogant but ultimately shallow stud who had had his way with her.
It would of course have the dead raunchy bits, but it would explore,
too, the psyche of this guy who could handle, no, start to enjoy
being cuckolded - only to mature out of the gutless state he'd got
himself into. There was just a little problem in that I had never
been cuckolded.
My beautiful wife Sharon, while stunning, hadn't as yet flirted
beyond the odd smile across a restaurant. True, she fancied the guy
next door, Simon, but he was married and in her book out of bounds.
However much she envied the woman next door, and talked about
Simon's suntanned body, she felt it would be awful to fuck another
woman's husband.
In the end, for the sake of artistic creativity, we drank several
bottles of red plonk one night and I actually begged her to fuck
Simon. I desperately needed inspiration and admitted that I wanted
to watch her take Simon's cock, so I could dress it all up in my
novel, with names adjusted of course.
She should have exploded, but the wine had taken effect and she
simply said that it was okay, but I'd have to ask Simon to bed her.
It would have to be in writing and would include a disclaimer of
blame, because she couldn't guarantee to keep it just physical.
Simon was a dreamboat, and if it became an affair, I'd have to sort
out Judy, his chubby but cheerful missus.
The letter to Simon was checked by my wife and felt demeaning.
"You've not told him I fancy him, and that you've not made me
orgasm," she observed, flicking it back to me for corrections. "He
has to feel he has free rein, so you really do need to grovel a
bit." Sharon had shocked me with her horny words and I asked her
how she understood such matters. Then she said she knew about my
secret store of randy books, and had seen the rough draft of my
book.
I dropped the letter in for Simon the next morning, and the day
after there was a reply. It was to Sharon from Simon, telling her he
had always wanted to fuck her, and if she was serious she should
start wearing a really tight leather skirt to signal the come-on. I
had to buy her that skirt as she didn't have one, and was told
firmly not to get in the way with my watching, because lust could
make a man and woman quite rude and arrogant.
Three days later I came home and realised that Simon was upstairs
with my wife. She'd been looking very pouty in stockings, basque and
the leather skirt and the inevitable had happened. I could hear
Sharon groaning and gasping on our bed, and was about to go up when
Judy rang the doorbell. Urgently, I hustled Judy into the garden and
offered to sort out the blocked sink she had popped round about. I
swear you could hear Simon making Sharon climax even out there, so I
hustled Judy home and got filthy dealing with the blocked pipe.
It was only after I'd cleaned up that I realised that Judy, too, was
being pretty dirty. She's a big lady and looked pretty daft in
leggings but her big chest was heaving and her fingers danced over
my crotch. Something daft took me and I started to kiss her. Judy
responded, rubbing her obviously big wet minge against my exploring
fingers. She said she would fuck on the floor if I wanted; but the
bedroom was free as Simon was out for a I while. I couldn't tell her
just where, or doing what; so I thought, what the hell, and took her
leggings down there and then.
We fucked furiously, but all too quickly, on the carpet. I came like
a weak geyser, spitting dribbles of come over her hugely stretched
pussy, realising that what had stretched her pussy was now doing the
business for my Sharon, too.
Judy lit a ciggy and said not to worry she rarely orgasmed unless
she was on Simon as he was so big compared with average men. That
made me feel better. She suspected that the "randy toad" fucked
other women, probably ruined them for their husbands or boyfriends,
but she was content with what Simon offered her. I apologised and
left there with pages of stuff for the book, but a good deal more
shame- faced than I thought I could ever be. Judy was no oil paint-
ing but she'd put me in my place and it was high time to get the
report from Sharon on her adventure.
As I got inside the house, though, they were still at it! I crept
upstairs and found Sharon leaning against Simon, his fingers
massaging her clitoris as though it was putty. Sharon had only the
basque and stockings left on, and I could see her pussy was wet with
thick white spunk where he'd obviously aready ridden her. Blobs of
steamy love juice clung to her suspenders and stocking-tops, the
smell of salty semen filling the air and Sharon was making little
whimpering noises as Simon's fingers slid up and down her crack.
Frankly, I could have been a shadow for all they cared.
Necking again, she finally beckoned me into the room with a look
that said 'behave boy'. Then she leaned forward over the bed and
Simon told me to slide underneath her. It was my job to lick at her
bare nipples as they shook under the onslaught of his thrusts.
Taking up position was easy...keeping my tongue lapping at her paps
was more difficult. I kept gawping at the size of Simon's tool as it
rammed into her cunny. They made this pump-thump-suck sound as they
rose to a quicker rhythm, and I honestly started to wank and watch
rather than lick as I was bade.
Simon made Sharon come multiple. First she was panting, then
gasping, then holding her breath and screaming for more of his thick
cock, then as she tensed her skin rippled with little tremors of
delight. It was as though her pussy was sucking as he came. Sharon
was fucking with an energetic, stylish equal. It was as though Simon
brought the whore out in my wife and, now that it was out, it could
never be returned.
Lapping at Sharon's cunny afterwards I had to go careful. She was
certainly sore and I was directed by her where and how to lick
gently. I siphoned up their salty fruit and then slid away as they
cuddled again, saying I'd sleep in the spare room that night.
It must have been 3.00am when Simon finally left, and when he had
returned to Judy I could hear amazing things through the bedroom
wall within half an hour. Simon was fucking his missus like nothing
had happened, and I was exhausted, just from a casual wank and some
watching!
The next day Sharon said that my idea had been the best ever and she
was off to the pictures with Simon. She wanted to be semi-public
with her lover and guessed I wouldn't object. I mumbled something
about fantasies being too strong, then she dressed in that skirt and
tossed me our written agreement.
While they were out I did pop round to see Judy and we had sex on
the sofa this time. Judy kept talking about how sexy Sharon had
started looking and how smug, and she wanted to know what I had
managed with her that I couldn't manage here on the sofa. I could
only think that somewhere out there Simon was fucking my wife, in my
car. Whatever I was doing, it wasn't quite equal.
Two months on and I have written four good chapters. The style is
improving but quite frankly it's devastating being a house servant
to my wife and her lover. I sense that they will never give up this
physical attraction and will continue to quite openly date. Judy now
knows, and says it's okay. she's been there before and I'm some sort
of consolation.
We're going to try a month's swap - Simon living with Sharon and me
coming home to cuddly Judy.