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Swap Talk
by Robert Thirdwall (address withheld)
First published by TheEditor (1995)

***

I've never wanted so much to be fucked hard and 
brutally. I wanted to be raped, to feel a strange prick 
shooting into me... (MF-couples, MF/mf, ped, swing, rough,
orgy)

***

Chapter 1
---------

We went into it with our eyes open, but opening them 
had taken a long time. At the time of our marriage I'm 
certain neither of us had ever considered the notion of 
marital infidelity, much less wife-swapping and other 
such refinements. 

I can speak with absolute certainty for myself, and for 
Helen I have the voice of her diary which she abandoned 
with everything else when she left. The only entry at 
all pertinent is from three months prior to our 
wedding.

"Tuesday, October 3: Went out with Mike. Seemed a 
little crummy with Bob out of town, but engaged isn't 
the same as married. We saw a rerun of Cat on a Hot Tin 
Roof. Mike kept hanging his hand over my shoulder and 
making it creep down my sweater. Pretty mean; but I 
guess he couldn't know how sensitive my breasts are at 
this time of the month. I kept shooing him away, but by 
the end of the show I was feeling pretty amorous, all 
the same. 

"He wanted to park, and I let him. We made out for a 
while. He really charged my mouth with his tongue. I 
wouldn't let him unhook my bra, but he squeezed my tits 
around a lot anyway and reached in and got my nipples, 
which really turned me on. Then he started up my legs. 
He got onto my bare thighs, and I had to stop him. 

"If it wasn't then, it would have been never. He was 
real sweaty and mad and said I was a prick-teaser. I 
told him I was engaged and that he knew it. Then he 
sulked and finally drove me home. So I guess I won't 
try that again. From now on if Bobby doesn't make love 
to me, nobody will."

My experience really wasn't so very different. I went 
out with girls I had dated earlier, several times after 
we got engaged. I kept telling myself I wanted to be 
sure, but part of it was simply that with Helen a sure 
thing I felt a little freer with the others. I didn't 
get all that much unfortunately, because I'm not 
particularly aggressive with girls. But I didn't bat 
.000 either.

There was a little girl named Tina whom I had met in 
one of my classes and dated occasionally. She was real 
slim and pale, as if she was anemic; and she didn't 
have any tits at all. But when we parked, she was real 
fiery. I was usually kind of scared of her, but this 
one last time I let myself go. It was warm for 
September, and she didn't get cold when I pulled her 
sweater all the way up to her armpits. We were kissing 
like mad. 

I got her bra undone and up and started rubbing her 
tits. They weren't much, but her nipples were something 
else. They were like hard, hot stones and stood out at 
least half an inch. I pinched them and twisted them, 
and she groaned. Then I got down and started sucking 
one. I squeezed it hard between my tongue and my teeth, 
which made her buck her hips forward. She was making a 
kind of humming sound.

Once she started that bucking, I went for her crotch. 
Her stomach was perfectly flat, and when I put my hand 
over it, she drew it in, practically inviting me to 
slide my hand under the waistband of her skirt. My 
fingers were snared in her humid, hairy nest, and then 
they were over the hump and into the top of her slit. 

I was all excited and pushed down all the way between 
her legs, generally sensing rather than savoring the 
swollen softness of her lips and the warm juice that 
made them so slippery. We probably would have fucked in 
another few minutes, but a cop car started slowly into 
the other end of the lane we were parked in. We beat it 
in a hurry; we were both too startled to get going 
again.

Obviously, I wasn't much of a Romeo. I was nineteen and 
had never made it with anyone before we got married. 
Neither had Helen, for that matter. But this is not to 
say I was totally naive. If my cock was innocent, my 
hand, at least, had felt several cunts, four to be 
exact. Besides Tina and Helen there had been two 
football weekend dates in college whom I had never seen 
again.

In retrospect it doesn't seem like much, but within my 
own circle of friends such innocence was not uncommon, 
even though we all talked as if it were. Things may 
have been different on the East or West coasts or at 
bigger schools, but at H. College in W., Indiana, those 
were the facts of life.

Going back to my story, though, we were both relatively 
innocent when we got married and had no reason to 
suspect that marriage was not the sole and final answer 
to the mystery of sex. We were almost overly familiar 
with each other's body before the ceremony. We had 
slept together and spent hours just looking at each 
other and handling each other, not fucking, more than 
anything because of Helen's scruples. 

More than once we stared lovingly and seriously into 
each other's eyes while frigging each other. Helen 
liked to watch me come. She laughed at the big white 
gobs squirting in the air and landing warmly on her 
thigh or breast. Her amusement was a cover for sexual 
fascination.

Usually after I had come, I would keep working 
languorously at her clitoris and cunt lips until she 
became tenser and tenser, like a strung bow, and then 
broke into great jerks of orgasm. Then we would cuddle 
and sleep, and she would promise me that we could fuck 
the instant the ceremony was over.

In time, of course, the ceremony was over and we did 
fuck. Not immediately after the "I do," naturally, but 
not long after. Actually, we hardly stopped fucking for 
four months. Two or three times a day was the rule, and 
it was frequently broken. I even computed that at one 
hundred strokes per screw, with my cock being seven 
inches long, I shoved over three miles of hot, hard 
prick up my dear, sweet Helen's cunt during that 
period.

I should add, perhaps needlessly, that Helen was and 
is, a glorious lay, although I only intuited it at the 
time, having no standard of comparison. She's five-
four, dark blonde, and thin; but her breasts are heavy 
and full, real swingers when she walks without a bra. 
Her nipples are large and protuberant. And as for her 
pussy, it's beaut. 

The bones of the pubic arch are especially prominent, 
so any clothes she wears that fit closely in the hips 
and crotch make her mound look almost as big as a 
man's. And covering it is a fairly large area of 
brownish hair, darker than on her head of course, which 
is both fine, at least for pubic hair, and rather 
sparse. The result is that instead of hiding her cunt 
it veils it. Her slit is always dimly visible through 
the tangle.

With such natural equipment and high interest, it's no 
wonder she learned a lot in those four months. She 
could match my rhythm or force her own; she could 
squeeze my cock inside and milk it; she could prolong 
her orgasm into successive ecstasies; she could do 
anything.

But after those four months, we both began to sense 
that fucking each other wasn't all there was to sex. We 
didn't talk about it because we both felt it would be 
accusing the other of inadequacy. We simply let our sex 
lives run down. We fucked, but not often enough or 
enjoyably enough to satisfy ourselves. I relapsed into 
the masturbation pornography syndrome, and she did, 
too.

Occasionally, she would write sex fantasies into her 
dairy: "I wish someday I could go to a swimming pool in 
a bikini with only men around. They'd all look at me, 
and I'd take my bra off and swing my tits at them. 
They'd all have big cockstands. I'd poke my crotch out, 
and they'd all stare at it. Then I'd lie down on an air 
mattress, and they would all fuck me, one after the 
other, until semen ran out of my cunt in a stream. 
(I've been writing this with my hand in my pants, and I 
just came.) So good-night, diary..."

There's no point detailing this period any further. It 
went on for almost two years. We had celebrated our 
second anniversary happily, for this difficulty had not 
really touched our feelings for each other as husband 
and wife. We were both twenty-one and out of college. I 
had a good job since I was an electrical engineer, and 
we really felt independent. 

Getting married young had made for an awkward family 
situation as long as we were still dependent. But now 
we were free of family, self-supporting and newcomers 
to P., a suburb of Chicago near the industrial park I 
was working at. It was almost like starting life over 
again. For the first time we could consider having 
children, but we decided to get settled for a year or 
two first. In short, we were embarking on a typical 
suburban life.

What happened to change that life was very trivial. For 
a couple of years I had been looking at Playboy and 
every couple of months buying a dirty paperback on the 
sly. I'd keep them hidden, read them, and discard them. 
Most of the time my conscience led me to select 
"classics" like Fanny Hill or safely dated Victorian 
jobs. There was a seedy suburb between P. and work, 
however, which broadened my horizons. A newsstand there 
had a tremendous selection compared with what I was 
used to, and I branched out, first to a very 
contemporary book about teeny-boppers in mini-skirts 
getting sucked off in class in high school, and then to 
a book on wife swapping.

They were both wildly fanciful, of course, but at the 
same time they suggested that even if people lived only 
half as wildly as they pictured, those people made me 
seem like a country parson. I had read about odd 
positions and sucking off in the other books, but the 
impact hadn't been strong. Helen and I had never tried 
other positions more than half-heartedly, nor had we 
ever sucked each other, except once -- timidly. We had 
been like sex addicts when we first got married, but 
only within very staid and traditional limits.

I read the book on wife swapping slowly, savoring and 
jacking off at every wild party, orgy, key club, and 
sex game it described. Then, one day when I looked for 
it in my desk, it was gone.

Two days later it was back. I knew Helen had read it. 
The circumstantial evidence was enough, but her 
avoidance of conversation cinched it. I was really 
worried that she would cause a great scene about it. 
Nothing was said.

***

One week later she said, "What did you think of it?"

"Of what?" I replied.

"Of the sex book."

My long hesitation before answering would have been 
infinitely less tense if I had then had her diary. The 
entry for the night before this conversation reads:

"Wednesday, March 3: This is getting ridiculous! I've 
been playing with myself for six solid days over a 
silly book. I haven't been so horny in years. Be it 
resolved that tomorrow I'll find out what Bob thinks."

I didn't know what she thought, however, and before I 
answered I considered several possible lines. I could 
apologize for buying it, or I could say I thought it 
was terrible and had gotten it from a guy at work. But 
perhaps I had an unconscious notion that here was a 
chance to break up the sexual logjam that was slowly 
building up in our marriage. In any case, I told her 
what I thought.

I told her it was the sexiest thing I had ever read. I 
said the thought of husbands and wives switching 
partners in front of each other and taking pictures of 
each other fucking in pairs or groups made me almost 
unbearably horny. I had a hard-on just telling her that 
much.

All she said in reply was, "Me too."

Suddenly the logjam was gone -- or at least in 
hindsight that seems to have been the moment. She came 
over and sat on my lap, and we kissed passionately. She 
grabbed my prick, and I squeezed her breast. In a 
frenzy we made our way to the bedroom. We undressed 
each other and caressed each other as we hadn't for two 
years. 

Her cunt was soaking. Two fingers went in to the hilt. 
I sucked her nipples until she moaned. Then she pushed 
me back and, kneeling, took my cock in her mouth. 
Stroking the shaft and halls she sucked and licked 
delicately at the head. It was an amateur job compared 
to later efforts, but I almost died. Finally, I pulled 
her up. 

She mounted me and after some effort got my prick 
inside her. Just as when we were courting, we looked 
each other soulfully in the face while she slid 
smoothly up and down my cock. Harder and deeper she 
forced herself down on it. Her big tits swayed, and I 
grabbed the nipples. Then we came together with one of 
the fullest orgasms we had ever had.

It seems strange that the simple confession of reading 
the same book and finding it exciting could produce so 
amorous a reaction. I'm sure she wasn't fantasizing 
along the lines of the book while we fucked. I know I 
wasn't. It was just good loving. It must have been 
that, having grown bored with one another, we had come 
to doubt our own and each other's sexuality. The sudden 
revelation that we were both still full of lust must 
have triggered the reaction.

We cuddled after fucking and talked. I can practically 
recreate the conversation...

"Can you really imagine someone like Ted Barnes fucking 
me?"

"I can see you now, with Ted on top of you and me 
beside you screwing Ann."

"Do you like Ann?"

"Right now I think I like only two things, you and 
cunt. I think I'd like to slide my hand between the 
thighs of every girl we know, within reason, Marge is 
pretty ugly."

"Remember the scene in the book where the guy fucks the 
girl between the tits? I'd like to have you do that on 
me while someone behind you felt my cunt."

"Or sucked it."

"Oh, I don't know. That part sounded messy; I don't 
know if I'd like it."

"What if it was me sucking some girl right over your 
head while I fucked you between the tits?"

"Oh, that'd be all right." Then she paused. "Do you 
think well ever do any stuff like that?"

"Well, it's not going to happen if we don't make it 
happen. We've been married for two years and haven't 
been invited to an orgy yet."

"Do you want to make it happen?"

"I don't know. Do you want to make it happen?"

We had been playing with each others genitals 
throughout the conversation, and at this point as the 
conversation came to a head, so did our play. My hand 
was slithering all over her cunt. Semen and cunt-juice 
coated the whole area between her thighs. Now I was 
concentrating move on her clit. She was grabbing my 
cock harder and Pumping it steadily.

"Maybe we shouldn't, Bob." Her voice was hesitant.

"Doesn't the idea of it make you want to come, though?"

She was on the verge of coming. "Yes! I want to fuck 
somebody and suck somebody and lie in a heap of naked 
bodies!"

I dove for her cunt and for the first time put my mouth 
to the warm, wet, sultry morass at the center of her 
ecstasy. She came in seconds, the contractions of her 
lips gently squeezing my nose and lips, Then, still 
feverish with extended orgasm, she squirmed around and 
got my prick in her mouth. I remember warning her I was 
about to come, but she kept on sucking. I squirted a 
great dose of semen into her mouth, and I could feet 
her swallowing it.

Again we cuddled, sweaty and exhausted. On the edge of 
sleep she asked me, "Are we really going to do it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, and we fell fast asleep.

Of course, we didn't just jump out of bed the next 
morning, call up some friends and ask them over for a 
screw. The decision was made, and even though we were 
both embarrassed about it the next day, we agreed that 
we would stick to it. But there was much to do and talk 
about between decision and action.

We couldn't even talk about what to do and how to do it 
until we knew more. I began to scour bookstores in 
Chicago for more on the subject, which we both read 
avidly. Night after night we would lie in bed naked, 
reading sex books and playing with each other. Good 
passages we'd read aloud, and then we'd finish by 
sucking each other off or fucking, often in some new 
position.

Never had our sex life been so good, even in the first 
days of marriage. Helen loved the taste of my semen 
just as I loved the smell and taste of her cunt. 
Positions that had made us uncomfortable and 
embarrassed when we had tried them before turned out to 
be glorious when indulged in deliberately and freely. 

I developed a passion for entering Helen's cunt from 
the rear while she was kneeling. Banging it into her 
with full force only to be met by the cushiony 
resilience of her rump was a new thrill. And she liked 
the fact that I could squeeze her nipples or frig her 
clit from that position.

Helen also went shopping for some new clothes. She had 
never been dowdy, but she had been a conventional 
dresser. Now she became both stylish and provocative, 
at least for home consumption. First she bought some 
thin nylon bikini panties. But seductive as they were, 
they weren't enough. 

So she found a store that sold patterned lace panties. 
These weren't as sheer as the others, but the added 
layer of lace in the crotch could be removed to great 
effect. Once that was done, her bush was clearly 
visible. She would sit in front of me on the bed in a 
full skirt with her legs spread, and looking up the 
dark tunnel between thighs and hem I could see her cunt 
even to the dark line of her slit, veiled in fine white 
lace.

Bras were something else. After trying very thin ones 
and very low cut ones, she decided to try wearing none. 
The experiment was a great success. She had never 
looked sexier than she did walking around the house in 
a mini-skirt and a soft velour top beneath which her 
tits swayed and bounced, the nipples making points of 
cloth jut out. Some deep V-neck tops designed to be 
worn with a blouse under them did still more, as did a 
couple of see-through blouses she picked up at a 
boutique.

All of this shopping produced more than just nightly 
strip shows, however. She also set about redoing my 
wardrobe in moderation. I was too conservative to go in 
for much visible change, but she did supply me with net 
tee-shirts and briefs and some real low-cut boxer 
shorts that made my equipment particularly noticeable. 
She even went so far as to take out some of the double 
layers in the net shorts. When she was finished my cock 
and balls were no more concealed by my underpants than 
her pussy was by hers.

What all of this amounted to, however, was playing for 
time. When it was all over, we either had to put up or 
shut up. It seems strange, really, that during this 
period when we were enjoying sex more than ever before 
we should have been preparing for additional sex, but 
perhaps it was the anticipation which honed the edge of 
our inexhaustible lust for each other. This interim 
period between decision and act was in part delay, but 
also in part acclimatization. Reforming our habits of 
sex, reading, and dress also strengthened our resolve 
and got us ready for bigger and better things.

Finally, the day came, after three or four weeks, when 
we had to make some definite plans. First and easiest, 
we decided to buy a polaroid camera. Second, we decided 
not to write to any swap magazines like the ones we had 
bought. That still seemed too sordid to us, and the 
pictures people sent in to them weren't too inviting. 
Third, we decided to seduce some of our friends into 
wife swapping and group sex so that at least we would 
be among beginners.

The question was how to go about it and with whom. We 
made a list of couples we knew, which was fairly long. 
Then we cut out those neither of us liked or those one 
of us didn't like. Next, we cut out a few on grounds of 
unattractive appearance. Still the list was fairly 
sizeable, perhaps a dozen couples. Finally came the 
hard part, trying to guess who would be amenable and 
approachable. This, after several hours of discussion, 
pared the list down to three. We picked one by lot, 
Judy and Dave Harris.

Our mode of procedure was to be cautious but insistent 
propaganda combined, when the time was right, with 
indications of willingness on our part.

Fortunately, we had easy access to the Harrises. They 
were a couple of years older than we were, but I worked 
with Dave and, as Spring was coming on, played tennis 
with him. Judy and Helen were close friends from 
college and went swimming together regularly. They were 
both very open and frank people, easy to talk to.

My approach to Dave was semi-direct. Locker room 
conversation being what it is, I brought up the subject 
of wife swapping in the abstract, saying I had been 
reading about it. I ventured the sentiment that I 
wondered what it was like and then let the topic ride.

Less than a week later Dave brought the subject up. I 
was amazed to have gotten a nibble on the first cast. 
His discussion was abstract and curiosity-oriented, 
like mine, but he was clearly interested, even if he 
himself didn't notice it.

Helen approached Judy through the topic of divorce. 
Judy had slept with one other guy in college, it turned 
out, and had tried to put it out of her mind. But 
Helen's talk of divorcing one man and then sleeping 
with another brought it out. They concurred that it 
wasn't particularly hard to imagine screwing someone 
else and that they had both known a man or two since 
they had been married whom they wouldn't kick out of 
bed.

We regaled each other with our successes and at the 
same time described our prospective lovers' hidden 
areas to each other. While I kissed and nibbled gently 
around Helen's blonde crack, she stroked my prick and 
told me that Judy had silky-looking, dark brown cunt-
hair and firm C-cup tits. I told her Dave's penis was 
shorter than mine when it was soft, which was the only 
way I had seen it, and that he had a lot of black hair 
on his thin body. She leaned over me, and we sucked 
each other to orgasm.

But if the first round was won, there were many others 
yet to go. After a month or so, Dave and I had talked, 
at least in theoretical terms, about sleeping with each 
other's. wife. He hadn't rejected the idea; he had 
brought it up. The subject arose, too, between Judy and 
Helen. Dave, it seems, had talked around the whole 
subject to test Judy's feelings, and Judy wanted to 
test her own reactions on Helen. Helen said she felt 
Judy was ready to express either horror or amenability 
at the idea, depending on what she herself said.

"You mean your husband actually suggested that you 
sleep with Bob and I sleep with him?"

"Well, he didn't actually suggest it, but he implied 
it."

Helen waited before answering to build up Judy's 
tension, then she said, "Is he good in bed?"

Judy took this as an affirmative answer and, laughing 
with relief, answered, "I think he is."

Both of them walked on in a humorous vein, as if the 
whole thing were a joke, but the die was cast. We 
decided to invite them over for dessert some night, 
keep them guessing, and then hit them with it on a 
second evening.

The first night went perfectly. They were nervous when 
they arrived because they had a hunch something was up, 
but a couple of drinks relaxed them. It was clear that 
they were ready if we tried to broach the subject 
because Judy was dressed in a short skirt and button-
front blouse instead of her almost invariable slacks. 
This was fortunate because it made Helen's costume look 
more normal. She was wearing a mini-skirt, unusual for 
her in public, and velour top without a bra. Both of us 
were conscious all evening long of both Judy's and 
Dave's eyes following the sway and bounce of Helen's 
tits like a hypnotist's pendulum.

Conversation deliberately took an off-color turn. We 
covered avant-garde movies, books, mores in general and 
girly magazines. I knew they subscribed to Playboy, and 
we talked about the efforts of that magazine to make 
the Playgirl of the month seem like a normal all-
American girl. Then Helen turned the conversation:

"Why don't you show them the pictures you took of me?"

Even intoxicated, they looked startled and wary as I 
went to get the pictures. Since we were both so casual 
and open, however, they soon relaxed again; and we sat 
on the couch looking at the snapshots. They were all 
standard Playboy type shots but all quite modest. Skirt 
hiked up getting out of a car, clinging blouse, blue 
jeans undone a button or two over bare belly, and 
finally, on the very bottom, a picture of a different 
sort. 

Helen was stretched out on our couch, legs akimbo, 
stretching her arms and yawning. In the fullness of her 
stretch, however, one bare breast had lifted out of the 
restraining hold of her low-necked top, the nipple just 
peeping out. And her mini-skirt had rumpled up over her 
abdomen revealing the bottom two or three inches of her 
white lace panties diving between her spread legs. 
Through the panties, of course, the nest of hair 
cresting her prominent mound could clearly be seen 
along with the top of her honey-dewed slit.

"Oh, you shouldn't have shown them that one, Bob!" 
cried Helen.

"Why not? It's better then anything in Playboy!" 
replied Dave, his eyes glued to the snap.

All four of us looked at Helen's pretty cunt for a 
while, but no one made any further move. The night had 
reached its climax; the final act would have to wait 
until we met again. Dave and Judy left fairly soon 
after that, and Helen and I retired for a good fuck 
after amorously rehashing the evening's events and 
tantalizing each other with anticipatory accounts of 
the Harrises' sexual prowess.

We decided a week was about the right interval to wait 
before inviting them again. Presumably they would have 
thought the whole thing over by then, and if they 
agreed to come, it could be taken as a tacit consent to 
something more. We waited; we asked them. They said 
they'd be glad to come.

***

We were both alive with excitement as we waited for 
evening to come. We had abstained from fucking for two 
days to guarantee arousal. It seemed incredible that we 
were really planning to openly and deliberately seduce 
another couple, but, after all our preparations, it 
seemed by now preordained. Helen put on her white lace 
see-through panties, a pair of mesh hose that didn't 
need a garter belt, and her super V-neck velour top. I 
could hardly keep my hands off her as I watched her 
dress. Finally, it was time for them to arrive.

This time there was no tension apparent in them. Judy 
was sparkling eyed and radiant, Dave darkly aggressive-
looking. They had probably had a drink before they 
came, but we all had a couple more just to be sure. 
Conversation was the opposite of that the previous 
week. 

We talked of general things, people we both knew and so 
forth. But below the conversational level the situation 
was entirely different. Instead of the two couples 
sitting on separate couches, we sat as mixed couples. 
It gave me an intense thrill to watch Helen turn to 
face both Dave and us, for this required that she fold 
one leg under her on the couch. Up went her hemline; 
down dropped Dave's eyes. At last I could see what I 
had long imagined, another man gazing lustfully at my 
wife's scarcely veiled cunt.

For her part, Judy was hardly less forward. Taking her 
cue from Helen, she hadn't worn a bra. And as she 
leaned forward in conversation, the scoop neck of her 
dress fell free and afforded me full view of her 
splendid tits, large and firm-looking with big, pink, 
inviting nipples. I wanted to reach in and grab them 
and suck them, but I stuck to our plan and instead 
asked if they would like to see some new pictures I had 
taken of Helen. Needless to say, they did.

I returned with a stack of photos and the camera, as 
well. Helen and Dave had shifted to the couch next to 
Judy, and I pulled up a low chair in front of them. 
This time there was nothing modest about the pictures.

The first series was of Helen in bed with nothing on 
but her panties. She lay in various postures, all of 
which featured widely spread legs. In the last of the 
series she pulled her panties down far enough to 
display her golden mound.

Next were some shots taken of her bathing with only the 
refraction of the water concealing her love-nest. Then 
came the best series of all, a strip show she had done 
for the camera in a little patch of deserted woods we 
had found.

We all looked at the pictures intently and in silence. 
Dave's hand was around Helen's shoulder, and I could 
see it tighten as he gazed at her pictured charms. 
Helen was resting one hand on the inside of his thigh 
about half way up. The protuberance of his erection was 
immense. Now was the moment to go the rest of the way.

"Since I have the camera here, why don't I take some 
more shots right now?"

"Okay," piped up Helen on cue. "Take some of me and 
Dave."

Dave froze. Helen reached for the sides of her deep V-
neckline and pulled them apart. Out sprang her tender, 
lovable globes, now pushed up and cradled by the 
garment coming below them.

"Come on, Dave! Don't he shy." She nestled deeper 
against his shoulder so that the arm draped around her 
neck could scarcely avoid dropping onto the inviting 
mound of her breast. She picked up his other hand and 
placed it over her other breast as she turned to let 
him kiss her. Finally Dave reacted positively, kissing 
her fiercely and moving his fingers to her sensitive 
nipples. I snapped the shutter and pulled the film to 
start the developing process. Judy was staring at Dave 
and Helen who were still embracing. Helen's hand was 
now stroking the whole bulging area of Dave's crotch.

"The next shot will be of you, okay?"

Judy turned and looked at me, recalled from her 
mesmerization not just by my words but by the fact that 
as I uttered them I slid my arm all the way up the dark 
tunnel of cloth and skin between her legs, brushing my 
fingertips lightly along smooth nylon and smoother, 
softer flesh until they came to rest on the soft bulge 
of her twat, only a double layer of thin nylon panty 
separating them from the creamy entrance to her cunt. 

Now she stared at me, still panting, a flush rising to 
her cheeks. I moved my fingertips ever so lightly 
across the profile of her slit. I could feel the sticky 
syrup of her excitement seeping through her panties as 
I pushed against the cleft between her swollen lips. I 
have no idea what was turning over in her mind, but 
presently she stammered, "Okay... I guess so."

I announced that the picture was ready, to recall Helen 
and Dave from their passion. As we all looked at the 
snap, Dave never stopped kneading Helen's tits, nor did 
she take her massaging hand from his crotch. I repeated 
that it was Judy's turn now and eyed her critically to 
dream up a pose. She was still blushing and glanced 
furtively at Dave. Now was his last chance. 

I wanted to move slowly and deliberately so he would 
see exactly where things stood and could say no at any 
point. Either he would react as a traditional husband 
and call the whole thing off in a burst of indignation, 
or he would gobble up the sensation of seeing his wife 
handled and uncovered by another man the way I had done 
seeing him fondling Helen's nipples. Helen, naturally, 
increased the chances of the balance going in the later 
direction by continuing her delicate stroking of his 
clothed prick.

Judy turned her timid eyes and blushing cheeks to me 
once again as I moved to pose her. I slid her dress off 
her shoulders with both hands and slowly moved down the 
neckline, over the rounded foothills to her breasts, 
pulling the cloth lower and lower. One bright pink 
nipple popped out, stiff and hard, then the other. Her 
breasts were now entirely bare, and I massaged them 
lightly and twisted the pretty points before going 
further. 

A sideways glance assured me that Dave was playing the 
voyeur rather than the husband, so I pushed her back on 
the couch in a semi-reclining position. I lifted her 
left leg, bent at the knee, and placed her foot on the 
couch by her butt. At last the dark tunnel was 
partially opened to the light. I could see her panties, 
pink and sheer, shading darker over her triangle of 
cunt hair. 

Helen had gotten Dave unzipped and was working on his 
bare cock, which stuck out surprisingly far from his 
fly. She had also spread her own legs to give free play 
to his hand which now was exploring her crotch.

Judy still eyed me, and she seemed on the verge of 
swooning. I was sure of Dave now, but still not 
entirely convinced that Judy wasn't about to crack. The 
spell of the moment could have been broken by any 
sudden sound or movement. But there was none. I raised 
her other leg and propped it on the couch next to the 
first. Her skirt was bunched in her lap, the back of 
the hem hanging over the edge of the couch. 

The bottoms and insides of her thighs filled my gaze 
with the progression from stocking to skin to cunt. 
Exciting brown hairs protruded from beneath the elastic 
of her panties. I took her knees and spread them to a 
great width. The whole vista of her cunt was open. Only 
a three-inch band of pink nylon, darkening damply in 
the center, still covered the juice-filled slit that I 
would soon be burying my prick in. I almost had an 
orgasm looking at it.

My plan had been to take the shot as it now appeared, 
timid face peeking over peaked tits mounting above a 
wide-open, but still covered, twat. But then I had 
another idea, a final test of everybody's commitment. I 
took her hand in mine while with the other hand I 
pulled aside the damp band of nylon. 

For an instant I dipped my fingers into her juice, and 
then I put her hand in place to hold her panties aside. 
Now the picture was complete. Judy was deliberately 
showing her open crack to another man while Dave looked 
on, his hand slick with the cunt cream of another 
woman. I snapped the picture, pulled the film, and fell 
to my knees, my mouth completely seduced by the 
deliciously inviting cunt before me.

The warmth of Judy's inner thighs caressed my cheeks 
and ears as I took charge of holding her panties aside 
and buried my tongue in her slit. The heady, murky 
smell and slippery, viscous taste of cunt cream 
exploded in my senses. It was the same as Helen's and 
yet different. Distantly I heard Judy make little cries 
as I licked her clitoris.

I stood up, forgetting about the picture entirely and 
shed my trousers in an instant. My shirt took no 
longer. Sandals and shorts, and then I was naked, 
standing over this beautiful, cowering woman with a 
feeling of conquest I had never had before. My cock 
felt heavier and longer and my balls more pendulous 
than ever before. 

Judy's look was now more one of raw lust than shyness. 
I beckoned to her to stand. She stood, and with a 
simple movement I slid her dress the rest of the way 
over her hips and to the floor. She stepped out of it. 
I unhooked her garter belt and slid down her panties 
and stockings. She was naked. I drew her into an 
embrace. Her full tits were cushions on my chest, her 
fingers like feathers on my cock and balls. My hand was 
in her cunt.

We stood there in that pose for minutes, for our 
attention had now returned to our legal mates. Both of 
them were naked. Dave had his tongue buried in Helen's 
mouth and two fingers buried in her vagina. Again and 
again Helen jerked against the two probing fingers, 
trying to fuck herself on them; and then he laid her 
out on the couch. 

I tensed as I saw the bright red head of Dave's penis 
poised at the entrance to the delicate blonde cunt I 
knew so well. Judy tensed beside me. Then he was up her 
in one great stroke. I could almost feel how she must 
have felt as eight thick inches of alien prick slid 
into her body. It was done; Helen was being fucked by 
another man in my presence. The sensation was 
indescribable.

Suddenly I lusted to take Judy as hard as I could. I 
pulled her to the other couch and threw her down. She 
couldn't have been more ready, her curly brown mound 
thrust upward; her knees spread wide, her arms reaching 
toward me in desire. I descended on her and immediately 
jammed my prick into her. The hot wet channel of her 
sex felt like balm but served as goad. 

I wanted to get into her farther, harder. Again and 
again I shoved it in with all my might, grunting at the 
shock. Each time her pelvis rose to meet the thrust. 
Her eyes were shut, and in a rhythmical, throaty 
whisper she intoned, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" with 
each stroke. I rose to my peak and blasted off, jetting 
my come in great gushes deep inside her. I hardly 
noticed the little cries she made as orgasm gripped her 
simultaneously in spasms of release.

Minutes later I raised myself from her and pulled my 
quelled cock from its warm pocket. I sat up and looked 
around. Helen and Dave were sitting lovingly together 
on the other couch watching us. Helen looked gorgeous 
with her hair disheveled and drops of sweat marking her 
brow and the valley between her breasts. No less did I 
feel an inexplicable warmth toward Dave. They looked at 
me with their completely relaxed smiles, and I laughed. 
Judy sat up and I gave her a big hug. Helen and Dave 
came over to our couch, and Helen gave a little yelp as 
Dave's semen started to flow down her leg.

We sat in mixed couples, girls in the middle, and we 
cuddled languorously. I sopped my hand first in Judy's 
cunt and then in Helen's. I sucked their tits. Such an 
atmosphere of love and friendship I had never 
experienced. Gradually the girls' fondling raised our 
pricks again, and it seemed that we might have another 
round. But Dave decided that they should leave instead. 

Judy disappeared to wash her twat while Dave dressed. 
In a long leave-taking we all said how much we liked it 
and agreed to do it again. Dave asked for the picture 
of him and Helen, and I gave it to him, only regretting 
that I had forgotten and overdeveloped the one of Judy 
displaying herself so shyly.

We saw them out the door and then turned to each other 
amorously. My cock was rigid in an instant when I 
clasped Helen to me. We went into the bedroom and 
fucked with slow passion. We needed no other comment on 
the effects of our experiment. Helen did write of it in 
her diary, however, and here are a couple of pertinent 
points:

"The thrill was unbelievable when Bob pulled her other 
leg up and spread her knees. It was just then that Dave 
got his hand inside my pants. I almost came. There was 
Judy's wide open pussy, and Bob was about to violate 
it... I've never wanted so much to be fucked hard and 
brutally. I wanted to be raped, to feel a strange prick 
shooting into me... I couldn't believe how tender and 
cute Bob looked, all tuckered out and collapsed on top 
of Judy. I wish he could fuck her again right away. 
Seeing it go in and out of her cunt really turned me 
on. I can see now why boys like to lick girls' cunts. 
They can look awfully sexy with a big prick in them..."


Chapter 2
---------

We saw the Harrises pretty regularly after that night. 
We followed the same pattern as the first time. Once a 
week or so we would go over to their house or they 
would come to ours. We'd talk and drink and eventually 
show pictures or get into the sex bag some other way. 
Then we'd top the evening off by petting and fucking. 

The distinctive flavor, fragrance, and feel of Judy's 
cunt became as familiar to me as Helen's but the 
sensation that she was someone else's wife never let up 
and continued to spice the experience. Likewise, the 
repeated sight of Dave's penis slipping in and out of 
Helen's hot crack continued to excite me to new peaks. 
Often we would fuck side by side on the bed and then 
fall asleep four abreast with the girls in the middle. 
Only later did I learn from Helen's diary that, while 
Dave and I slept the sleep of satisfied men, the girls 
sometimes remained wakeful.

"Tonight I could hardly wait for the boys to fall 
asleep. Ever since last time I've been thinking how 
cute Judy looks when she's just been fucked. Tonight I 
did something about it. The fellows rolled over and 
were out like a light, but Judy was still awake. We 
were almost nose to nose already so all I had to do was 
to move my hand onto her hip and butt. She must have 
been thinking just what I had been thinking because she 
opened her eyes and gave me a sultry look and a little 
smile. Then I moved my hand to her sweet pussy, and she 
opened her legs a bit. Her cunt was so wet and hot and 
sexy I almost creamed just feeling it. I can see why 
fellows like to feel girls' slits. Her clitoris is 
bigger than mine. I wanted to suck her, all of a 
sudden, but I didn't want to wake the boys, so I just 
started to frig her real soft and slow. She was aroused 
and beginning to breathe hard in about a minute. Then I 
felt her little fingers feeling for my cunt. She was a 
lot softer and more gentle than a boy, but she knew 
right where to get me. We had to keep it slow so the 
boys wouldn't wake up, but we came in only a few 
minutes."

Thus Helen was adding a whole new dimension to her sex 
life while I still had my hands full just with the 
swapping we were doing. I won't deny that Dave's cock 
absorbed my attention and even admiration from time to 
time, but this was usually in its capacity as 
penetrator of my wife's orifices rather than in its own 
right. Truthfully, I was too absorbed with cunt to 
think about cock.

Gradually, as our relationship with the Harrises 
continued, my entire outlook on women changed. Girls 
had always attracted me, to state a truism, but what 
attracted me about them had always been their style and 
outward appearance. I was attracted sexually, but not 
consciously so. Now, that all changed. Whenever I saw a 
pretty girl I would look at her as a sexual being. 
Pretty legs were pretty legs, but now they also became 
directly and deliciously attached to the crotch. 

When my eyes reached the hemline, they no longer saw a 
skirt; they saw thighs and hips and crotch covered with 
a garment in itself irrelevant. In the same way I 
ceased looking at girls' breasts as they were molded 
into some unnatural, cosmetic shape by their 
brassieres; instead I saw natural, soft warm tits with 
hard, succulent tips, unfortunately and hopefully 
temporarily, constricted by fashion. Whereas before 
only Helen and then Judy were fully sexual women in my 
sight, now I gradually came to see women in general as 
sexual beings.

Needless to say, my preoccupation with such thoughts 
and feelings had its negative side. At work my 
efficiency decreased whenever a secretary or woman 
employee entered the room. On the street and in stores 
I encountered frozen looks as I stared at girls more 
intently than politeness allowed. But none of these 
things detracted from the fact that life was more alive 
and worth living now that I was cunt-conscious.

***

It wasn't too long before the four of us began to talk 
about expanding our little group with some more 
couples, but it was quite a while before we decided 
just what to do. What we settled on was a party which 
we would try to transform into an orgy. We were 
complete novices at this sort of thing, of course, but 
we decided to give it a try anyway. Hopefully, if it 
didn't work, people would be too drunk to remember it 
the next day.

Helen and I went back to our list of couples from which 
we had picked Dave and Judy, and they compiled a 
similar list. Between us, we produced a fist of five 
prime couples whom we settled on as the candidates for 
a surprise orgy, and we added to those five about eight 
more for camouflage. These we expected would leave 
early making the five others feel like an accidental 
residue rather than a deliberately chosen group. We 
sent out invitations billing it as a party on a hippie 
theme, something that was sort of titillating and 
suggestive all by itself in a quiet suburb like P. 
Anything strange at the party would be attributed to 
the theme, we figured, in case the whole thing was a 
bust.

Waiting for the party to start was nerve-racking. We 
had converted our living room into a clean, middle-
class version of a pad. There were only a few lights, 
and most of the furniture had been taken out and 
replaced by cushions and pillows and a couple of 
single-bed mattresses. Dave and Judy supplied the 
music, since our own tastes at that time ran more to 
Roger Miller and Herb Alpert. Helen had bought a body 
stocking and a loose-knit shift. The nude color of the 
stocking showing through the dress gave a sexy, but at 
the same time obviously proper, impression. Judy had 
bought herself a new dress, too, which conveyed the 
same impression. It was a zip front mini-dress with 
circles cut out at the hips. Dave and I were in 
turtlenecks.

After an interminable wait, the first people arrived. 
Then came another interminable wait for the party 
really to begin. By ten-thirty everyone had had at 
least two drinks, except for a couple of teetotalers; a 
few couples were even dancing. Surreptitiously, we 
increased the music volume and decreased the lighting. 
Within half an hour everything was going very smoothly 
indeed. Between the darkness, the dancing and the 
liquor, a state of anonymity had descended on the 
group.

I spotted one of our targets, a Swedish girl named 
Greta, momentarily sitting alone, and joined her. We 
got into a casual conversation, and it was the easiest 
thing in the world to slip my arm around her. Moments 
later I dropped my other hand to her knee, and the die 
was cast. In a matter of seconds I saw her look of 
puzzlement change to one of understanding and then into 
one of acceptance. Her body, which had tensed, relaxed 
against mine. 

The casual conversation continued, but it was 
anticlimactic. I couldn't believe how easily I had just 
tacitly seduced Bent Olson's wife. It was as if she had 
simply been waiting for an unmistakable proposition. We 
got up to dance. She was lithe and smooth in her 
movements. As I watched her admiringly, I stripped her 
in my imagination and saw her thick blonde bush which 
before the night was through I hoped to be inside of.

After we danced for a while, her husband showed up. We 
chatted, and he mentioned that Helen had suggested that 
they stay for a while after the bulk of the party left. 
He had a funny look on his face as he told me of the 
invitation, and I could well imagine under what 
circumstances Helen had proffered it and with what 
implication. I seconded it blandly, however, and 
confirmed it with the two of them. Then I retreated.

It was getting toward midnight, and the party was 
already thinning out. I headed for the bathroom but 
stopped at the dining room door. We had moved our 
couches into the room, and despite the dimness I could 
see that one of them was occupied. First I could only 
make out two figures, and then I realized that it was 
Judy ensconced with a guy named Ben. He was half lying 
on her, kissing her, and what light there was nicely 
illuminated the perfect curve of one bare breast. The 
zipper in front had served its purpose; I could count 
on another couple for our party later.

Coming back from the john, they were gone. I bid a 
camouflage couple good-bye and took stock of the party 
remaining. Only one unwanted couple had yet to leave, 
and they were donning their coats. Otherwise we were 
all set, with the exception of one target couple that 
had left before they had been properly approached. A 
thin, satanic-looking guy named Frank was dancing with 
Helen, and, by the way she was bouncing and he was 
staring, I could tell she had found a moment to shuck 
her body stocking. Dave was visiting his attentions on 
Marie, a tiny, slender girl with straight black hair to 
her waist. She was Frank's wife, and they were the 
closest thing to real hippies we had invited.

The last of the unwanted guests now left, and on cue 
Judy let it be known that I had a party game that we 
were going to play. She said it with a leer so that no 
one would get disgusted at the thought of a stupid 
party game and leave immediately. I don't really 
remember just what I said as I brought my contraption 
out, but it didn't matter. 

There was probably no one in the room who expected 
anything other than some kind of sex game. There was 
simply an aura of sex and expectancy in the room that 
hadn't been there only minutes before. As I explained 
the game to them, Sue Ann Miller was sitting right 
before me, beside her husband, Roger, staring up at me 
with frank blue eyes as if she was totally unaware that 
in her cross-legged position I could see under her 
skirt directly up to the band of white panty. She 
didn't bat an eye when I read the rules.

The apparatus was a very large and elaborate dial which 
sat in the middle of the floor. Each person drew a 
number. Then, one after another, everyone was to spin 
the arm of the dial until it landed on the number of 
someone of the opposite sex, other than their spouse. 
Some spaces on the dial weren't numbered but had little 
envelopes at them instead, so several spins were 
usually needed. 

Then the lights would be turned out for three minutes 
during which the girls would remove a piece of clothing 
from the men. At the sound of the timer the lights 
would go on for a few seconds for people to find their 
next partner and then go off again while the men 
removed a female garment. Then would come a new round. 
It sounded sort of silly, and it was sort of silly, but 
we thought it would do for breaking the ice.

The first round of numbers were chosen. Ann Cummings 
drew me. Dave controlled the light switch and timer. 
Suddenly it was black, and there was a flurry of 
movement. A female crawled across me, and I slid my 
hand up her dress just for the sheer joy of it. My 
shoes had disappeared earlier, and I shed my socks 
before Ann got to me so she would have to start on 
something major. She was a regal, cool-looking woman 
who kept her hair in a bun, and when she found me, she 
was businesslike. 

Kneeling before me, she felt around for my shirt and 
pulled it neatly over my head. Her job in the silly 
game was done, but before she could move away I reached 
out unerringly and inserted my hand between her legs. 
She didn't react; she just knelt there in the dark as I 
fingered the warm softness of her crotch.

The light coming on suddenly after three minutes caught 
me with my arm still up her dress, and she 
instinctively pulled her hem down. She needn't have 
bothered, for the first glance I noticed that her 
husband, Ben, was too absorbed in Greta to care what 
she was doing. I also caught sight of little Marie 
whose number I had drawn for my first turn. The lights 
went out again, and I crawled toward where I had seen 
her.

I found her quickly and identified her in the dark, 
unnecessarily, by giving my hands a quick tour of her 
body. I found the zipper behind her back and gave it a 
pull. Her dress fell off her shoulders to her waist. 
She stood up and let it fall the rest of the way to the 
floor. I disentangled her feet, and as I raised my head 
again, my nose informed me of the geometry of the 
situation. Very strong and just inches away was the 
heady, sensual odor that comes only from a woman's 
cunt. 

My hands found the backs of her thighs, and I pulled 
her forward. I plunged my mouth and nose into the 
nylon-covered mound I couldn't see. The scent 
intoxicated me. I sent my tongue between her legs 
searching for the depression between her lips. Her 
little hands grabbed my head and held it closer to her 
body. I had just tasted the salt-sweet nectar seeping 
through her panties when the lights went on again.

This time I was the one who reacted, drawing my head 
back quickly and looking around. The only person 
looking at us was Helen, who seemed to have some kind 
of smirk on her face. I don't know whether it was from 
seeing my guilty look or from the sensations caused by 
Roger Miller against whom she was leaning, nestled 
between his legs, while he reached around her and 
fondled her bare nipples.

The group now recongregated for a new round of number 
choosing, and as it proceeded, I took stock of the 
company. The men were wearing nothing but trousers and 
underpants, the combination of which did nothing to 
conceal their stiff erections. Anyone who had been 
wearing a T-shirt had doffed it independently, just as 
I had gotten rid of my shoes and socks. 

Helen and Judy were down to their panties already and 
were the focus of most male eyes. They sat cross-
legged, their breasts looking even more opulent than 
usual, their triangles of fur showing through their 
translucent panties. I wanted nothing so much as to see 
someone at that moment jump on Helen and ram his prick 
up her, and for the first time I realized the second 
function of sex games. Not only do they break the ice, 
but they artificially draw out what could be finished 
in a flurry of activity.

The other girls were in various stages of undress. 
Marie, of course, was down to panties and bra, as was 
Ann Cummings. Sue Ann still had on her skirt and was 
still sitting with crossed legs, her crotch visible. 
Greta, too, had lost only a blouse. Surprisingly 
enough, everyone was quite absorbed in the second round 
of number choosing. I had anticipated that interest, in 
what was basically a stupid game, would flag, but 
people's minds were captured by the randomness of the 
thing. It was fate rather than choice that was forcing 
them into the arms of one partner after another.

The lights went out again, and Sue Ann was upon me. She 
undid my belt and zipper and dragged my trousers off. 
Then she started to explore my feverish genitals. I lay 
back on the mattress and luxuriated in the feel of her 
hands fondling my balls and squeezing my cock. She got 
it out through the slit in my shorts, and in the deep 
darkness of the room I felt a phantom tongue lick 
slowly at the head of my penis. Naturally, that was 
just the moment for the lights to go on.

My next number was cool Ann Cummings. I found her in 
seconds and got her bra off with almost frantic speed. 
More than anything I wanted to plunge in and fuck her, 
but I didn't want to spoil the evening. I pushed her 
back on the mattress and lay down heavily on her. She 
spread her legs to receive me, and I started 
desperately trying to jab my cock through her panties. 
Her cool demeanor was gone in a flash. She bucked and 
thrust as I came vainly down on her. I was wrenching 
her full tits brutally. Then I slid down her body a bit 
and started to suck and bite her nipples alternately. 

When the lights came on it was hard to stop, but I 
managed. Ben Cummings was staring at us curiously. 
Undoubtedly, whatever sexual adventures they had had, 
this was the first time he had actually seen his wife 
beneath another man. He was in no position to object, 
since Judy, who had lost her panties, was beside him, 
and he had two fingers of his right hand stuck deep in 
her cunt. But it was obviously an ambivalent situation 
for him.

We gathered around the dial for the third round. 
Besides Judy, Helen was the only one naked. Her cunt 
looked uncommonly beautiful as she sat with parted 
legs. The prominent blonde bush descended to the 
swollen reddish rolls of her cunt lips which, in turn, 
were open in readiness, revealing the brighter red 
flesh of her inner lips and slit. After Ben got his 
fingers out so everyone could see, Judy's crack was 
equally gorgeous, but it was Helen's that particularly 
turned me on.

Greta and Sue Ann were still in possession of their 
bras. Ann, of course, had lost hers to me; and next to 
Helen's slit it was her full, slightly pendulous tits 
with stiff brownish nipples that attracted my interest. 
Marie's bra had gone, as well, and her tits were also 
nice, although slighter. But I guess it's the tit 
you've just sucked that attracts you most.

The fellows were all in shorts, which were terribly 
distended, except for Bent's and mine. Our pricks were 
sticking out, and I was fully conscious of female eyes 
gazing at us.

Before starting the next round of number choosing, we 
voted to have Greta and Sue Ann lose their bras to 
catch up with the group. The act was quickly 
accomplished, and now there were six pairs of bare 
breasts in the room. Greta's were somewhat flat and 
went well with her tall, thin model's figure and long 
blonde hair. Sue Ann's were the largest of all and were 
furnished with large nipples and aureoles some two 
inches in diameter. Finally everyone had a new number, 
and the lights went out again.

Judy drew me, and after getting my pants off, she 
climbed astraddle me for a quick sixty-nine. The 
familiar mouth closed over my prick, which was somewhat 
cooled after the intermission. I nibbled gently at her 
warm, wet cunt. I became aware of someone leaning 
against my right side and realized that right beside us 
some girl was sucking off some guy. 

I groped with my free right hand and found first thighs 
and then crotch. The girl had panties on, but that 
didn't prevent her from squirming against my fingers. I 
got inside the elastic band around her leg and started 
to probe her creamy pussy-flesh. When the light came 
on, I looked to see who it was, and little Marie looked 
back at me. I sniffed my fingers and smiled.

Then the lights dimmed for the final time. I had failed 
to spot Sue Ann and wasted time crawling about over 
heaps of clothing and writhing bodies. Finally I found 
her and yanked her panties off. I dove for her cunt to 
get at least a taste of it before the three minutes 
expired. It was the wettest I had ever known. I buried 
my mouth in it and could have sucked indefinitely had 
it not been for the lights.

People didn't want to stop this time since everyone was 
now naked, but we convinced them that there was more. 
Roger reluctantly pulled his prick out of Greta, and 
other people stopped sucking. Once again we sat around 
the dial, all naked, men's faces smeared with cunt 
juice and their pricks glistening with saliva. It was 
immediately obvious that while none of us was 
embarrassingly undersized, Frank was truly immense. 

His prick was two-inches thick, heavily veined and 
slightly curving to a length of what looked to be ten 
inches. It was crowned with an even thicker purplish-
red head, and beneath it hung an enormous sac of balls. 
I looked at Marie and at her perfectly normal looking 
crack surmounted by curly black hair, and I wondered if 
it was really possible that he stuffed all of that 
inside her.

As I looked around me, I became dazzled by the number 
of ready cunts, but I had to explain the rest of the 
game and couldn't waste time sightseeing. The ladies 
spun again for new partners, and then their numerical 
order was established. The first girl in line would 
spin until she hit a space with an envelope. Inside the 
envelope was a photograph of a sex act. The girl who 
drew it had her choice of doing it with her new partner 
or giving it to her husband to do with his.

The first to spin was Sue Ann. She tore open the 
envelope and stared at the photo. Then she announced 
that she would do it and showed us what it was. It was 
simply an ordinary, woman-on-top fuck, albeit a well-
photographed one, with Dave and Helen as models. Sue 
Ann's partner was Ben Cummings. He obediently lay on a 
mattress with his pole sticking up in the air. Sue Ann 
straddled him and reached between her legs to position 
his prick at the mouth of her cunt. Then she sank 
slowly, absorbing inch after inch of prick inside her. 

I heard a quickly drawn breath at my side and realized 
that Ann Cummings was beside me. Her eyes were riveted 
to the junction between her husband's cock and Sue 
Ann's cunt. I put my arm around her to reassure her. 
She grabbed my cock and squeezed it hard. Now Sue Ann 
was beginning to move, pumping up and down. Ben's prick 
reappeared every few seconds bathed in fluid. He was 
mauling her big tits, and at the top of her stroke she 
was able to let him suck them. 

The show, however, was a short one. After the buildup 
we had had it took only a couple of minutes for Sue Ann 
to bring him off. Suddenly she sank down on him hard, 
and he bucked like a wild horse. Sue Ann let out a cry 
as his jerking cock brought her off and then collapsed 
on him. It was only then that I noticed that in my own 
excitement I had started frigging Ann, and I stopped.

Next up was Greta, who drew a photograph of a sixty-
nine. Dave was her partner, and they went to it with 
great gusto. Unfortunately there's little spectator 
sport in sixty-nine, and we all waited impatiently for 
them to finish. Sue Ann and Ben had recovered and 
rejoined the group. It turned me on to see Ben's come 
trickle out of Sue Ann.

Marie was next and drew a standing fuck, which was very 
appropriate since she was the smallest girl in the 
room. I was her partner. I lifted her up, and she 
clasped her legs around me. Then I slowly lowered her 
until my cock was nestling in her cunt mouth. She gave 
me an eager, bright-eyed look, and I lowered her 
farther. Down she slid, impaled on my penis. The 
feeling was exquisite. It was hard to start any motion 
going, but after the long buildup, we hardly needed it. 
I was up to the hilt inside her. 

We jiggled around a bit, and the bright look in her 
eyes became hysterical. She gave a series of gasps, and 
then her cunt grabbed me like a fist. Contraction after 
contraction gripped my prick, and in a moment I was at 
my own peak. I practically exploded inside her. Never 
had I had such a huge orgasm. I almost fell but caught 
myself and lowered us both to a mattress. She was still 
seated across my lap with my prick inside her. 

Despite the orgasm I was still pretty stiff. I lay back 
and rolled over until I was on top of her, my prick 
never having left her body. Her tiny body underneath me 
gave me new energy, and I started to fuck her for real. 
I socked it to her with full force until she cried out 
in pleasure at each blow, and then we both came again.

By the time we had recovered, we had missed Bent's 
match with Ann Cummings and Judy's with Roger Miller. 
There was only one couple left and one picture. The 
verdict was that Helen was to straddle enormous Frank 
while he was seated. Ben and Ann had done the same 
thing except that this time the girl was to face 
outward. I never thought it would work. 

I couldn't believe that Helen's twat could take such a 
massive thing. But it did. With great care and effort 
she pressed herself down on him, with each attempt 
taking a little bit more into her. Finally it was all 
in, and she began to move. At first it was slow and 
arduous, but soon she was moving normally. And then she 
was fairly jumping up and down and grunting as she rode 
toward her climax. 

Unbelievably, my own cock was hard as a rock once 
again. I knelt in front of her so I could see more 
clearly the piston of flesh sliding in and out of her. 
Irresistibly my hand was drawn to fondle Frank's huge 
balls and feel the slippery column of his prick. This 
spurred his orgasm, and with three mighty jerks he 
inundated my wife's vagina.

With that, the planned entertainment of the evening 
ended. Marie and I were not the only ones who had been 
indulging ourselves in a second round, and fucking went 
on for a little while longer. Ann Cummings wanted to 
suck me off, and I wasn't one to refuse her, while at 
the same time I frigged dear Judy's crack, which was 
like a swamp after inundations from both Roger and 
Bent.

But soon enough everything was truly over; everyone was 
exhausted. Some clothes were put on, and underclothes 
were stuffed in pockets and handbags. Even after three 
superb orgasms, the sight of these naked girls now 
clothed without underwear brought me up again. As each 
one said good-bye I reached under her dress and felt 
her cunt. It seemed like a very natural and ordinary 
intimacy, which no one minded. Then, finally, everyone 
was gone. Helen and I retired and slept soundly in each 
other's arms.

***

This narrative, as the reader is doubtless aware, has 
been a very one-sided one; for at this stage in my sex 
life nothing registered in my memory except my own 
personal feelings and what I perceived of those of my 
immediate partner. Nor in this case do I have my wife's 
diary to refer to as a corrective to my one-sided 
vision. To this day I don't really know how the evening 
could have come about in the way I remembered it. 

I assume that the magic ingredient was that 
inadvertently we and the Harrises had chosen for our 
orgy couples who were already experienced in wife 
swapping, but I can't even be sure of that. Two of the 
couples we never saw again in an intimate way. We were 
hesitant after our first success to push our luck and 
try again too soon, and in the meantime the Cummings 
had been transferred out of town. The Swedes, Bent and 
Greta, were friends primarily of Dave and Judy. We 
invited them to our next event, but they refused by 
mail, and we crossed them off our list.

The other two couples, Roger and Sue Ann Miller and 
Frank and Marie Cordoba, it turned out, were not 
inexperienced. When Helen left and I first became 
interested in writing up the story of our sexual 
experiences, Frank and Marie were no longer available 
for consultation about their experiences, before 
meeting us, as will become understandable when I get to 
that part of the story. But Roger and Sue Ann were, and 
I taped a conversation I had with them about their 
early sex lives. What follows is a transcription of 
that tape.


Chapter 3
---------

"Go ahead, Sue Ann. It's on," I said, indicating the 
tape recorder.

"Well, I'll spare you the clever bits about playing 
doctor with my cousins at age seven and showing myself 
to a little boy for comparison at age eight and go on 
to the pubescent age. My trouble, or at least so my Mom 
used to tell me at the time, was that I couldn't sit 
with my legs together. I was a tomboy and always wore 
pants if I could. 

When I had to wear skirts, I wore them like pants and 
refused to think about modesty, which I thought was 
pretty silly. A lot of girls go through this stage. 
After all, it is pretty silly when you're still a 
little girl. Most of them grow out of it when they 
start to get breasts, though. I was different that way.

It might have been the fact that my mother kept nagging 
me so much about it. Maybe I built up a block against 
it. Anyway, whatever it was, I kept on sitting with my 
legs apart after it started to make a difference. It 
became a reflex with me, a habit which I couldn't 
break. Skirts were pretty long then, so it didn't make 
too much difference. But when the styles changed early 
in high school, it really started to matter. I was 
already pretty well developed by that time, and from my 
girl friends I had found out what my cunt was really 
for. Still, my few dates had been timid things with 
hand-holding and the like as the highlight.

What changed all that was an incident that happened at 
a church youth meeting. We had been doing various youth 
meeting things, and I had met a guy named George who 
was two years older than I. He seemed to like me, and 
when the leader told us we were going to see a movie, I 
sat on the floor next to him, naturally with my legs a 
bit too far apart for modesty. So the lights went out, 
and the movie started, and suddenly I felt his hand on 
the underside of my thigh, almost touching my panties. 

Going from hand-holding to this in one fell swoop was 
quite a switch, and instead of doing anything I just 
froze, stupefied. And then his hand was there; just 
like that. He was pressing and massaging and feeling 
all over my cunt. Before I had frozen because I was 
stupefied, but now I froze because it felt so nice, and 
I didn't want him to quit. 

The movie was going on about the evils of alcohol or 
something, and everyone was looking forward, so they 
couldn't spot us. After a couple of minutes, he got 
under the cloth and slipped his finger in. I remember I 
was trembling like a leaf, but I didn't dare move. He 
was squeezing my lips and trying to get his finger all 
the way up me, and then he stopped suddenly. The movie 
was over.

The next ten minutes between the end of the film and 
the adjournment of the meeting were the longest I've 
ever spent. I couldn't do, or say anything, I was so 
excited. I thought I might faint. George kept away from 
me so no one would catch on and then made a big point 
of asking if I needed a ride home. I usually waited 
with a couple of friends for one of our mothers to pick 
us up, so I told them I had a ride and left with him.

I remember he had an old Rambler with reclining seats. 
I snuggled up to him, and he drove out to a dirt road 
by the river. Then we went to it. I was only fifteen, 
remember, and I had never really ever talked to him 
before. But his hand in my crotch had turned me on like 
you turn on an electric light. We kissed furiously, and 
he started feeling my cunt again, this time under my 
panties so his whole hand was on me. 

Pretty soon he had my blouse and bra off and was 
sucking my tits while I swooned. He got his prick out 
and I practically tore it off him. Then, finally, he 
rolled on top of me and after a few tries drove it in. 
I'll never forget that fuck. Would you believe? I came! 
The very first time. Of course, I only found out later 
how oversexed I was compared with my friends.

Ever since that time it's been like a one-way street 
called sex. He taught me about contraception and how to 
suck him off and everything, and we went steady until 
he went off to college the next year. After that I 
screwed around with two or three guys, but I didn't get 
serious.

When I went to college, it was more of the same thing. 
I got laid after my first freshman mixer. Naturally, 
this gained me something of a reputation, and before 
long I was getting invited to a lot of fraternity 
parties.

I remember one in particular where my date, after 
feeling me up and getting me real hot, talked me into 
doing a strip. All the guys and their dates, everyone 
was smashed -- gathered round and some music with a 
heavy beat was put on. I got up on this real heavy oak 
dining table and started walking up and down with the 
music. They all clapped and whistled, and I really 
began to get into the spirit of the thing. First I 
pulled my sweater up until it was just under my 
breasts; then I slowly eased it over them while I 
twisted my hips around. 

It was probably pretty amateurish, but they seemed to 
like it. I pulled the sweater over my head and danced a 
little with my arms up. I threw the sweater into the 
audience and slowly reached behind me and unhooked my 
bra. I held the two ends of it out to the sides and 
shrugged the straps off my shoulders so it was like a 
screen in front of my tits. They all whistled and 
yelled, 'Take it off!'

After teasing them a little this way, I took it off and 
threw it to them. Now, I was pretty proud of my tits -- 
still am, as a matter of fact -- so I danced and shook 
them around. And then I got on my knees and let them 
hang in the faces of the guys in the front row. It 
really turned me on to have them all feeling them.

After that, I remember, I stayed on my knees, leaned my 
body way back, and rubbed my skirt around over my 
thighs. I swayed and rubbed to the music, all the time 
getting it up higher until my panties were showing. One 
guy reached between my legs and put his hand on my 
mound, but I was really into the dance and pushed it 
away. I unzipped my skirt at the side and stepped up 
out of it, leaving it on the tabletop. Then I just 
danced with only my panties on while they chanted, 
'Take it off!'

I was pretty uncertain about what to do next. I hadn't 
planned to take everything off. I listened to them 
shout and looked out at their faces. They were all 
excited and eager-looking except for a few who had 
migrated toward the back of the room and were getting 
something off their own dates. Most of the other girls 
had left the room, but a few were watching closely. 

I could see at the back of the room one girl with bare 
tits and another with spread legs enjoying her 
boyfriend's fingers. I also discovered that the bright 
eyes on a blonde girl in the crowd at the front weren't 
just from my dancing but were from her date's hand 
underneath her dress in the rear and from the hand of 
another guy surreptitiously inserted under her 
waistband in front.

Anyway, they were yelling and clapping, and I was 
dancing and shaking my tits, and people were feeling 
each other up all over. So I decided what the hell and 
slowly slid my panties down. I'm telling you, ten pairs 
of hot male eyes hitting your cunt at the same time can 
be felt, and felt hard! Before then I had been too much 
into the dance to feel all that turned on sexually, but 
as soon as my panties were off, I began to cream. My 
twat was tingling. I danced nude a bit and then went 
down on my knees like I'd done earlier. I just lay back 
swaying with my eyes shut and let myself be inundated 
by hands on my cunt.

From there it was only a short step to laying on the 
table with my butt at the edge. I don't know who was 
first, but they kept on coming. Prick after prick went 
sliding in. I felt my hole fill with come again and 
again only to have the stuff squeezed out by the next 
guy. Maybe a gang-bang is the worst thing imaginable 
for most girls, but I loved it. I felt like I was all 
cunt and they were all cock. I think only about ten of 
the guys actually fucked me; the rest were too timid or 
afraid of offending their dates, or perhaps they were 
getting it from some other girl. All I know is I got a 
lot, and I liked it."

"How did you come to get married after a career like 
that, Sue Ann?" I asked her, but Roger broke in.

"Let me tell about that. You're hogging all the 
conversation.

I was going with Sue Ann's roommate, a girl named 
Vicky. She was a real tall, black-haired girl; thin but 
sexy as all get out. Anyhow, I had been laying Vicky 
during visiting hours in my dorm for a couple of 
months. Boys weren't allowed to visit the girls, dorms 
except on Sunday afternoons; so I had never met Sue 
Ann, although Vicky had told me she was a neat girl and 
I guess had mentioned me to Sue Ann."

Sue Ann interrupted with, "Mentioned you! When she came 
back from your room, she couldn't talk about anything 
else. She would deliberately tell me every little 
detail in order to get me heated up, and then she'd 
tease me about being hot until we ended up in bed 
wrestling."

"You call that wrestling?" Roger teased.

"Okay, so we sucked each other off. She was a nice 
girl; I liked her a lot. It's true enough, I knew what 
your semen tasted like from licking it out of Vicky's 
cunt long before I knew what your cock tasted like."

"Quiet, I'm telling the story," Roger said. "This one 
day Vicky invited me over on Sunday. It sounded like a 
drag, but I thought it might be possible to get a 
little something even there. What I didn't know was 
that Vicky and Sue Ann had plans.

I got there at two, and we had until four. Sue Ann 
wasn't in the room, so Vicky and I started to make out. 
She had small tits with really great nipples, and I was 
sucking one of them and fingering her pussy when the 
hall door suddenly opened and shut.

I looked up quickly, and there stood Sue Ann, who had 
just come from the shower down the hall..."

"I had on a terry cloth bed jacket that came to just 
below my butt, and I was holding it shut very loosely 
in front," Sue Ann interjected.

"Come on, let me tell it! There she was with her boobs 
practically hanging out of her jacket saying something 
like, 'Ho, ho! What's, going on here?' Vicky pretended 
to be slightly flustered and introduced us. Sue Ann 
walked across the room to say hello and stood directly 
in front of me so my face was on a level only a couple 
of feet from her pussy. And she wasn't holding that 
jacket closed so tight that a bit of cunt hair couldn't 
be seen, either!

The question was, what to do next, and I didn't have 
the answer. Vicky did, though. She got up and pulled 
Sue Ann's jacket open so I could get a good look. Then 
she pushed Sue Ann toward me. I was sitting on the edge 
of the couch, and she straddled my legs and brought her 
bush closer and closer to my face. When it was only 
inches away, my resistance collapsed, and I buried my 
nose in it. 

I licked her slit tentatively and found it was ready to 
go. Then I burrowed in, immersing myself in her cunt. I 
could feel Vicky at work on my fly, and in a second she 
had my cock in her mouth. It was glorious! I was 
sucking away at Sue Ann while Vicky was sucking my cock 
and fiddling with my balls.

This wasn't enough for Vicky, though. She kept bringing 
me just to the point of climax and then letting me 
down. Then she pulled her head back and got Sue Ann to 
kneel on the couch. Vicky guided my penis up Sue Ann's 
cunt, and the union was made. There was scarcely any 
need to move. Just feeling Sue Ann's creamy inside and 
staring at those big tits was enough to bring me to the 
brink again. But Vicky still had other ideas. She 
climbed onto the couch and stood straddling between us 
facing me. 

For the first time, but hardly the last, I switched 
from sucking one cunt, a light blonde, fringed one, to 
sucking another, buried in jet black fur in only a few 
minutes. Vicky was gooey and sweet, and she held my 
head hard against her crack. Sue Ann shoved a finger 
all the way up her ass, and I reached between her legs 
to pull at Sue Ann's big nipples. The whole pose was 
rather cumbersome, but for a few seconds before I came, 
it was heaven. I blasted inside Sue Ann, and then we 
unraveled ourselves. I finished sucking Vicky off and 
watched her lick my jism out of Sue Ann, which gave her 
a climax."

"And after that, would you believe it, we played three-
handed bridge until the end of visiting hours," Sue Ann 
said, smiling.

At that point I asked, "So Roger married you because 
you were a better lay than your roommate?"

Sue Ann answered, "No. The second semester Vicky came 
down with mononucleosis and dropped out of school. We 
got married our senior year basically because we liked 
each other so much and had such great times together."

Roger continued from there. "There wasn't any starting 
to it, really; we were both pretty active up to the 
wedding. We kept on screwing the people we'd been 
screwing with before we married. Of course, they 
gradually left town. But we met others, including other 
married couples, and when I took a job in P. we already 
had some contacts through correspondence. 

Frank and Marie Cordoba were one contact. It was sheer 
coincidence that they happened to be at your party. I 
remember we were worried that the party would he a real 
drag, and Sue Ann had dressed conservatively. Then we 
walked in, and there was little Marie, whom I had never 
met before but whose picture I had savored for some 
time. She was even wearing the same clothes, except 
that in the picture she was lying back with her dress 
up and her twat showing. If you hadn't planned 
something that evening, the four of us would have done 
something anyway."


Chapter 4
---------

As I said, at the time of our first party, I was pretty 
oblivious of anyone's feelings or actions but my own. 
But as time went on, I became more aware. We four 
couples saw each other frequently and had some 
wonderful times. We'd go to the lake near P. for 
picnics. The girls would wear their skimpiest bikinis, 
and we'd play volleyball to make their tits come out. 
Since we sailed to the far side of the lake on Frank's 
boat, we enjoyed considerable privacy, not enough for 
nudity but enough for anything else.

Marie's bathing suit always turned me on in particular. 
It was a bikini, but instead of being made of thick 
elastic cloth with built-in bra cups, it was made of a 
soft, white silky material. It covered the proper 
areas, but it hung rather loosely. And when it got wet, 
it clung like crazy. The water would make her nipples 
stand up, and the bra would cling translucently to 
them. Below, her black triangle would show so you could 
almost see the separate hairs.

At night we'd make a fire and roast hot dogs and that 
sort of thing. Then we'd pair off around the fire and 
fuck and suck to our hearts' content. Finally we'd sail 
back in the moonlight.

Judy liked to lie on her back on the bow with her legs 
spread along the gunwales. If no other boats were out, 
she would take her suit off, and we would admire the 
moon reflecting on the swells of her breasts and 
highlighting her silky brown nest. We'd not only admire 
it: On more than one occasion I put my head between 
those moonlit legs and tongued the female crack that 
the silky brown hair crowned. Every time I did that, I 
would turn around when I had brought her off, and my 
heart would thrill at seeing Frank with one hand on the 
tiller and the other deep in my darling Helen's suit, 
fingering her slit.

I don't think I will ever get over that thrill I get 
from seeing my wife being handled sexually. At first it 
seemed just like new kicks, but as I have come to 
empathize more with her sensations while being handled 
by a man other than her husband and with the other 
guy's pleasure at feeling up or fucking someone else's 
wife, I have found the whole complex of sensations 
profoundly exciting and, surprisingly, satisfying.

What really turned me on to this sensation was the 
first party we went to held by swingers outside our own 
group. Frank and Marie had made a contact with this 
other group somehow, and after they had gone once and 
had a great time, they suggested that we be invited, 
too. This wasn't particularly fair to Dave and Judy and 
Roger and Sue Ann, but we agreed that we'd try to get 
them included in the future.

Frank warned us that the people in charge of this other 
group were rich and did things in a very sophisticated 
way, but even so we weren't prepared for an engraved 
invitation:

        Edward and Penelope Unger
        
        Request the company of Robert and Helen 
        Emery at a Privates Party Friday, September 22.

        RSVP marital tie.

Helen chose her clothes with great care from her now 
rather substantial swinger's wardrobe. She decided on a 
soft white super-mini that came just below crotch 
level. This was to show off the gorgeous tan she had 
been building up on her legs and thighs all summer. 
Beneath it she wore only a pair of openwork net 
panties. The dress divided at the navel into parts that 
tapered gradually to straps over her shoulders. Thus, 
her breasts were covered even if their soft inner 
curves weren't. Of course if she leaned over, the whole 
thing fell away.

The host's home was more like an estate, located in an 
expensive, wooded subdivision of P. His money, it 
seems, had come by inheritance from his father who 
founded a drill press factory. Several cars were 
already parked near the house at the end of the long 
entrance drive when we arrived. We had deliberately 
come a little late to avoid being first in an 
unfamiliar situation.

We were met at the door, to my great surprise, by a 
stunning, beautiful black girl in a floor length white 
evening gown. She introduced herself as Monica 
Marshall, a friend of the Ungers, and said she was 
delighted that we had come. The name Marshall 
registered as that of an insurance executive in town, 
but I promptly forgot about all that when she turned to 
lead us to the party. What drove the thought out of my 
mind was the plunging back of Monica's gown which went 
on and on revealing her smooth dark brown back, narrow 
waist and tight round buttocks. Only below the buttocks 
did the dress come together again to form the skirt.

The party room she ushered us into was magnificent. It 
was built for lounging with soft low furniture, deep 
pile carpeting and indirect lighting. Through French 
doors it opened onto a swimming pool with underwater 
illumination, and the breeze of the Indian-summer night 
was ideally soothing. There were about eight people in 
the room when we came in, but we were introduced only 
to the Ungers, and by the time we had finished chatting 
with them several more couples had arrived, including 
Frank and Marie.

Ed Unger was older than we were, about thirty-five, but 
his blonde hair, bleached by the sun, and deep tan 
indicated that in all probability, he was an active 
outdoorsman. He must have been to maintain his hard, 
lean figure. Penelope, or Penny, was younger and 
equally tanned and athletic-looking. Her hair was 
either dyed platinum-blonde, or she wore a wig. Her 
costume was full, gauze-like hostess pants of cerulean 
blue with a matching see-through bolero which darkened 
and emphasized her saucy, turned-up nipples. 

She offered me her hand in greeting, and as we chatted 
and she expressed the hope that we would enjoy the 
party, she took my hands and pressed them right against 
her luscious tits. It struck me at the time as being 
terribly audacious, but when we then parted and I found 
out from Helen that Ed had slipped beneath her hemline 
and ever so briefly fingered her slit by way of 
welcome, I realized that audacity was the order of the 
evening.

For half an hour or so we all had drinks, mingled and 
talked. I was too dazzled by the women to do much 
talking, for I never would have suspected that such 
clothing was worn outside New York or San Francisco or 
someplace like that. See-through was the general order 
of the evening, and there was scarcely a single girl 
whose nipples couldn't be seen either outright or by 
stationing oneself at the right angle. 

The girls in minis, like Helen, were soon persuaded to 
sit on the deceptively low furniture, and none of them 
had any scruples about keeping her legs together. Since 
there seemed to be no stigma attached to staring, I 
made no attempt to keep my eyes from the lace or net-
covered cunts thus revealed, that is, when they weren't 
being covered by someone's roving hand as Helen's was 
when I glanced her way.

A blonde girl named Alice caught my eye and patted the 
couch space next to her. I obediently sat down and 
tried to make small talk, but she made it difficult by 
sliding lower on the couch and rubbing up against me. 
The motion pulled her tiny skirt up practically to her 
navel. A half inch of soft skin was visible above the 
top of her bikini panties while the panties themselves, 
a large gauge fishnet of white nylon, served only to 
restrain the swelling nest of golden hair on her love 
mound.

"Don't you want to put your hand where it will he 
warm?" She guided my hand to her crotch, and I brushed 
my fingers across the fluffy mound. She parted her legs 
to let my fingers descend to the warm, wet area of her 
slit. "Ummmm..." she murmured in my ear as I dipped a 
finger through the net and into the creamy interior, 
"later on I want to feel your cock in there. Maybe my 
husband will get it up your wife at the same time."

"Which one is your husband?"

"Over there with Monica."

I looked where she pointed and saw the back of a very 
thin black-haired man next to the very naked, black-
skinned back of Monica. His hand was sunk between her 
legs under her bare butt, but his actions didn't seem 
to be interfering with the conversation they were 
having with another couple. It gave me a thrill to 
think as I looked at him that my middle finger was 
buried to the hilt in the silky vagina of his wife, 
whom I had just met. 

Then I thought of the other side of the coin, and 
looking around me, I found Helen slouched on another 
couch with her skirt up and her bodice off her 
shoulders, enjoying the ministrations of a man I had 
never seen who was sucking her tit and working away 
between her legs with a hand thrust under her panties.

Suddenly the lights dimmed to almost nothing, and Alice 
whispered that it was time for the light show which was 
standard at the Ungers' parties. I had noticed earlier 
that the walls were curiously bare for such an elegant 
room, and now the reason became clear.

The three sides of the room not occupied by the French 
doors to the pool began to flicker with light. A 
central switchboard somewhere had obviously been 
programmed to turn on a patterned myriad of colored 
lights set in the floor and ceiling. At the same time 
abstract patterns of light were projected onto the 
walls from hidden movie projectors. Even the guests 
were lit up irregularly by the ingenious lighting. As 
we became mesmerized by the effect, the pace of the 
light changes accelerated and sort of pulsated.

Simultaneously, the projected scenes changed from 
abstract hard-line patterns, to less defined more 
organic ones. It was hard to tell precisely what was 
being shown since the colored lights interfered with 
recognizing patterns. Then the focus became clearer, 
and dancing, gyrating figures could be seen. 

As the scene cleared more, the dancers were seen to be 
nude and the men to have large erections. The pulse of 
the lighting increased, and the movie switched from one 
semi close-up to another of people sexually entwined 
with hands and tongues exploring penises and vaginas. 
My hand drifted back to Alice's warm crotch as I became 
more and more absorbed in the show. Her hand, in turn, 
was gripped around my cock which she had released from 
my pants.

The pulses of light became both faster and brighter. In 
addition to the ever larger close-ups of cunts and 
pricks now being projected, I began to see more of the 
people around the room. This was apparently what I was 
supposed to be looking at, because at the same time I 
began to notice a small spotlight concealed in the 
ceiling came on and highlighted first one then another 
of the guests.

Following the light, I first saw, for a few seconds, my 
hostess in ecstasy having her cunt licked out by 
someone I didn't recognize. Then there was a switch to 
cute little Marie getting her black bush tongued by a 
black man I took to be Monica's husband. At this point 
Alice squirmed her head into my lap and closed her 
mouth over the bulging red head of my cock. Next in the 
spotlight was Frank with his enormous prick being 
gobbled by a girl I didn't know.

Then, just as the erotic load of pulsing lights, carnal 
visions and Alice's expert tongue were just about to 
push me over the brink into a tremendous orgasm, the 
light show suddenly stopped, and the room lights went 
on again. The effect was shocking on me, and, I 
supposed, on Helen and anyone else who had never been 
to such a party before. But the effect was also 
delightful. At the same time as one was being doused 
and sobered by the strong lights, one was treated to 
the sight of a whole room of beautiful people 
discovered in the midst of sexual delights.

Our hostess was reclining naked on a couch with her 
long lovely legs twined around the neck of the man who 
was eating her. Marie had lost only panties, and the 
hem of her miniskirt lay like a veil across the heat 
between her legs. Before I could look around for Helen, 
Ed Unger took the center of the floor, his large cock 
sticking out and his arm around the neck of and 
caressing the tit of a pert little girl I had met 
earlier named Lonnie. He called for attention.

"Now that we've got things underway, I want to 
interrupt before we get to the main business of the 
evening in order to introduce Bob and Helen Emery, who 
are here for the first time. Some of you have already 
gotten to know them..." This was said with a leer, and 
I followed his eyes to the couch in the corner where 
Helen was reclining in the arms of Alice's husband, 
both of them sans pants, he was fingering her gaping 
pink slit while she gripped his thick cock. "...but I'd 
like them to stand up anyway." We each disentangled and 
arose somewhat shyly.

"As we all know," Ed continued, "no one is allowed to 
become a full-fledged member of our group without going 
through an initiation. Now, if Bob and Helen don't want 
to go through the initiation, they'll have to leave."

He paused and looked at us, but neither of us showed 
any signs of tuning toward the door.

"All right, then it's time to have their initiation." I 
was beginning to regret that I had decided to stay as I 
had no interest in being treated sadistically as I had 
read about in books. I held my breath, waiting for Ed 
to announce the nature of the initiation.

"Following our usual procedure, I am passing one hat 
among the ladies and the other among the guys so that 
everyone can draw a number." I saw the hats being 
passed. "Now, if everyone has a number, Penny will 
announce the winners who can do whatever they like with 
our initiates."

"Seven and fifteen," came a small voice from the couch 
where Penny was still being lapped. I looked around to 
see who the winners were. The two girls with the number 
seven were Lonnie and a gloriously statuesque girl with 
dyed-blonde hair and a dark brown twat whose name was 
Maxine. 

The two men were Jeff, the black, and Ron, who turned 
out to be the unknown head buried between Penny's legs. 
Since Ron was Maxine's husband, the four of them were 
required to pair off Jeff with Maxine and Ron with 
Lonnie. Between them they decided that the latter 
couple would handle my initiation and the former 
Helen's. I was much relieved at seeing the choices 
since they all four looked like amiable persons and 
since no one appeared to be rushing out for whips and 
things, but I was still a bit apprehensive. The couples 
conferred together and presently decided that Helen 
would go before me.

Maxine was already naked except for a sweater which she 
pulled off over her large, heavy tits. She was a tall 
girl, but she wasn't skinny. Her big globes seemed all 
the bigger because of a slender waist and diaphragm, 
and they bounced appealingly as she walked. Jeff, too, 
disrobed. He was long of limb with flat sinewy muscles, 
but somewhat to my surprise his penis was not 
extraordinary. 

It was fairly long, but it was neither as long nor as 
thick as Frank Cordoba's monster. Together they 
approached Helen who looked timid and demure in her 
white dress, in spite of the fact that in replacing the 
straps on her shoulders she had kept the halves of the 
bodice on the outside of her tits so that they hung 
bare and bronze within the border of white, their hard 
brownish points just begging to be sucked.

Someone adjusted the lights so that only the center of 
the room was lit, rather like a stage, while the rest 
of us remained in the dusk. Maxine and Jeff led Helen 
to center stage, one at each hand. Helen was beginning 
to blush, but I knew the blush to be one of enjoyment. 
They rotated her almost like an inanimate object before 
the audience, both of them fondling her luscious tits. 
Jeff sucked briefly on one of her nipples as did 
Maxine. 

For the first time it entered my mind that Maxine might 
be bisexual, for she seemed to be sucking Helen as 
vigorously as Jeff, if not more so. I asked myself 
whether Jeff's skin color was going to upset me as he 
went to work on my wife, and I was reassured to feel no 
rancor or jealousy. If anything, the thought of the 
imminent entrance of his long brown prick into her cunt 
excited me.

Cushions were produced, and the initiators had their 
victim descend to hands and knees. The shape of her 
free-hanging tits in that posture always stimulated me, 
and I began to feel the need of something soft and warm 
and damp to fondle. As I glanced around me, however, I 
found no one nearby although amorous couples were 
discernible on the couches. The thought came to mind 
that I was being deliberately isolated since my own 
turn would be next.

Jeff and Maxine had arranged Helen very low on her 
elbows in front with her rear much higher. In that 
posture her little white skirt covered almost nothing 
of her buttocks, but Jeff threw it up over her back 
just the same so that no one was deprived of the sight 
of her charming rear entrance. The feathery pink inner 
lips of her cunt, held open by the spread of her 
shapely tan thighs, was as erotically stimulating as 
ever, and I longed to stick my own cock between them 
instead of having to watch Jeff do it.

Rather than mounting her from behind right away, 
however, Jeff sat down in front of her with his legs 
apart and presented his long, slender cock to her 
mouth. Helen took it and started lovingly to massage 
the swollen head with her tongue and lips. 

Maxine straddled Helen's back with her long legs and, 
facing backward, leaned over so her head and shoulders 
were just over her rump. In this manner she did not 
block with her body the audience's view of the delicate 
caresses she now began to bestow on Helen's cunt. With 
a feminine touch that knew precisely the effect it was 
producing, she parted Helen's soft lips and stroked 
them and slithered her fingers around in the gooey 
exudations, dipping a long finger now and again deep 
into her vagina. Helen's eyes were shut in delight, but 
she never stopped sucking Jeff's black cock.

After a couple of minutes of massaging Helen's cunt, 
Maxine shifted her attention higher and with fingers 
slippery with cunt juice started to stretch and probe 
Helen's asshole. In the past I had seen someone stick a 
finger up someone's ass, and I had even had it done to 
me once or twice. But I had never seen such delicate 
care lavished on stimulating that tight orifice. 

I knew the sensation to be pleasurable, but it had 
always embarrassed me; so I had never done it to Helen 
myself. Perhaps it was this that now made the sight of 
Maxine's long digit sinking deeper and deeper into my 
wife's ass so thrilling. Had I not been riveted to the 
sight, I would have found a mate on one of the couches 
and fucked the daylights out of her. As it was, I could 
only watch perched on the brink of my own orgasm.

I could hear Helen faintly moaning as Maxine 
intensified her probing. Her mouth was motionless 
although still closed over Jeff's prick. Then the two 
initiators shifted. Jeff stood up, and Maxine slathered 
his cock with lubrication from a bottle she had 
magically produced from somewhere. Jeff now stood 
before Helen's enticing ass, and bending his legs, he 
lowered his long rod until the tip was pressing against 
her ready asshole. 

I could see her body tense as she felt him there and 
anticipated what he was about to do. I tensed as well. 
He wasn't kneeling so there was nothing to obstruct my 
view but the brown dangling bag of balls. Slowly he 
began to push in. The big head disappeared, producing a 
small cry from Helen. Then it reappeared and he pushed 
it in again. This time I could see that Helen was 
thrusting back on it. Deeper and deeper it went on each 
slow, slick stroke. Helen was once again moaning as she 
thrust more and more obviously back upon his impaling 
prick.

When his brown rod was almost entirely buried in her 
ass, Jeff went to his knees and closed tightly with her 
from lower thigh to lower back. He was now fucking her 
in the ass with an even slow pace. He reached around to 
pull at her dangling tits. Then Maxine joined in. She 
lay on her back in front of Helen and presented her 
dark pussy to her lips just as Jeff had earlier offered 
his prick. Helen didn't hesitate but buried her mouth 
and nose in it with vigor. 

I was rapt in the scene I could hardly believe. My 
beloved wife who but a few months before savored for 
the first time the tentative creep of another man's 
fingers inside her panties was almost expiring in 
delight from being fucked in the ass by a long black 
prick while simultaneously gobbling the cunt juices of 
another woman. Now Jeff had shifted one hand to Helen's 
clitoris, and her body began tensing toward climax. 

Suddenly she cried aloud and jerked convulsively. Jeff, 
too, had climaxed and with crashing thrusts was jetting 
his sperm deep inside her ass. Helen collapsed on her 
stomach as soon as Jeff finally withdrew. Maxine 
withdrew to the sidelines as did Jeff, and sweet Helen 
was left in the spotlight like a limp doll. Her dress 
seemed like that of a little girl. Then she stirred and 
arose, showing once again her big sensuous tits and 
dispelling the ravished little-girl image.

Someone handed her a glass of refreshment, and she sank 
wearily onto a couch between Frank and Marie, who 
hugged her warmly. She stood up again and felt behind 
her. The semen running from her ass was making her 
dress wet. But she gave a shrug and decided to sit in 
it anyway. I don't know what prevented me from going 
over and hugging her and comforting her myself. Perhaps 
I felt voyeuristically cut off from the whole episode, 
in spite of the fact that she was my wife. Whatever it 
was, I was still standing in place like a wooden Indian 
when my turn was announced.

Lonnie and Ron took the floor. She was a perky little 
blonde and had lost all her clothes sometime during the 
first initiation period. Her bush was light and sparse 
and did nothing to hide the rounded, rosy lips of her 
crack. Her nipples were upturned like her nose, and her 
ass was small and tight. Next to Ron she didn't look as 
small as she had with Ed Unger, for Ron himself was a 
slight fellow with sandy brown hair. 

When he dropped his pants, however, I saw that his 
slight stature did not apply to his crotch. His prick 
was not quite as long as Frank's, but it was thicker 
and more imposing. And his testicles hung much lower in 
a very pendulous sac. The whole effect was almost that 
of a deformity with such a huge prick on so diminutive 
a man. But I had no time for contemplation.

The preliminaries were briefer than Helen. The pair of 
them ushered me forward and stripped me. I felt 
uncommonly exposed being in the lighted circle. I 
couldn't make out anything but dim shapes in the 
surrounding darkness. Then the cushions were 
rearranged, and Lonnie told me to lie down on my back.

They still hadn't done anything to me, nor did they 
proceed to do anything. Instead they stood astride me 
over my head and began to fondle each other. The view 
was incredible. Lonnie pumped and fondled Ron's monster 
prick while he explored the tender pink recesses of her 
beautiful slit. I wondered if my initiation was to be 
subjected to frustration.

Presently Lonnie turned around and went down on all 
fours, as Helen had done. The soft entrance to her body 
was only inches from my eyes. I longed for her to squat 
lower and engulf my face with her cunt, but instead Ron 
knelt behind her and I realized the frustration was to 
continue. As the enormous head of his prick parted the 
almost bare lips of her cunt.

I thought her little hole couldn't possibly stretch to 
receive him. But inch by inch the huge machine buried 
itself deeper and deeper inside her. Then it was far 
enough in that while my eyes could still see the 
junction of their organs, my mouth was covered with the 
hanging bag of Ron's balls. 

The action to take them into my mouth was made 
unconsciously, but it was made. I played with his balls 
with my tongue for a minute or so, and then he pulled 
them out. He was beginning to fuck her for real. The 
piston of flesh came out and drove in, glinting with 
the lubrication she provided for it. The pressure on me 
was immense.

Then Ron pulled out entirely, and Lonnie moved away 
leaving him alone poised over my face. I longed to suck 
Lonnie's cunt, and here before me was Ron's giant cock 
smelling like cunt and slimy with cunt juice. I opened 
my mouth and tentatively licked the head. It was 
unbelievably smooth. I took it more into my mouth and 
felt both its strength and its softness. Lonnie's cunt 
flow was delicious, but with every second I was 
becoming more entranced by the sensation of sucking 
cock. I began to work my tongue around his head the way 
I knew I liked it, and I could feel him react.

Lonnie was not idle either, as I now found out. I felt 
the soft warmth of her body as she squatted over my 
straining prick. And then at long last I felt cunt. 
Skillfully she sheathed my longing cock in her tunnel 
of sex, sinking down upon me and absorbing me deeper 
and deeper into her. My climax was almost upon me as 
soon as she started moving up and down on me. 

I sucked harder at Ron's penis. His tension increased 
with mine. And then the muscles in his cock jerked and 
a blast of hot come came into my mouth. Another blast. 
I swallowed. It seeped around the corners of my mouth 
and ran down my cheek. I hardly noticed that I myself 
was coming at the same time and flooding Lonnie's cunt, 
so powerful was the strength of Ron's blast. I 
swallowed until he went limp, and then I, too, went 
limp.

The bodies of the initiators rose from my head and 
groin. The initiation was over. Now I knew how Helen 
had felt earlier. I was just lying exposed and drained 
in the bright light. I almost felt degraded, but I also 
felt sensually fulfilled. Finally, I got up and 
staggered to the sidelines, where someone gave me a 
stiff drink. Then I was being hugged and lovingly 
comforted by two warm naked women, Alice and Monica. I, 
like Helen a bit before, was now part of the club.

My lovely escorts settled me on a couch and with tender 
soothing and comforting, it helped me recover from 
what, in retrospect, had been a rather traumatic 
experience. It's not every day that a hitherto straight 
man sucks his first prick in such a public way.

Soon, however, the soft warmth of the white and brown 
breasts and thighs surrounding me made me forget my 
disturbed feelings and turn my attention once again to 
the matter at hand. Monica slithered across my lap, let 
my newly risen cock slip up her tight black crack. But 
after a certain amount of such monkeying around, Alice 
made her get off because we had a previous engagement.

I didn't remember what she was talking about until she 
pointed out Helen across the room with her husband, 
toying amorously with each other. Then I recalled that 
she had wanted me to take her while her husband was 
poking Helen. Leaving Monica disappointed, we went over 
to them, and Alice made her proposal.

"I'm not sure Helen wants to," replied her husband. 
"She's still dripping with what Frank gave her a few 
minutes ago. After his tool, she probably wouldn't 
notice me in there at all."

The idea had struck pay dirt with Helen, however, as 
the light in her eyes revealed. "Don't be an ass, Tom," 
she interjected. "I may have had it already fore and 
aft, but I haven't had it from you, and that's what I 
want." She gave him a peck on the mouth and squeezed 
his long, thin rod.

"Good," said Alice, arranging cushions on the floor 
next to their couch. Then she whispered in my ear, 
"Take me up the ass, will you Bobby. That's where I 
really want it."

I was a little dismayed as she went down on the floor 
on all fours because I didn't have any lubricant to 
ease my entrance. When I knelt behind her enticing 
butt, however, she solved this problem by reaching 
between her legs, wetting her hands in her cunt juice 
and covering my prick with her own lubrication. I 
spread her cheeks and lodged the head of my cock 
against her rosy hole. Immediately, she pushed back 
against it. It slid in with less difficulty than I had 
expected. Undoubtedly the passageway was well worn.

So I was buried in her up to the hilt. The heat of her 
body and the tightness of the fit were superb. The 
novelty of the sensation had kept me from noticing 
Helen on the couch beside me. But now I looked at her. 
My head was only inches from her face on a slightly 
higher level. 

I looked and saw her blonde nest fully plugged by her 
rider's prick. He was kneeling almost vertically and 
was holding her hips off the couch with his hands. I 
stared into her feverish eyes and she into mine. I had 
the sudden sensation that it was she I was fucking. I 
kissed her and tongued her mouth as if she was a new 
girl for me; she responded with equal passion.

Then a new sensation struck me, or rather an old 
sensation struck me with new force. Eye to eye and in 
love with my wife, I nevertheless was rhythmically 
ramming my penis in and out of another woman's asshole 
and rubbing her clitoris while her husband furiously 
fucked my wife. In two short, violent jabs I was 
suddenly over the top and shooting off in Alice's anal 
depths. The force of my orgasm almost knocked her flat.

Beyond that there's little to add. We got the group to 
add Dave and Judy and Roger and Sue Ann, all of which 
took some persuading, since it made the group almost 
unwieldy, and for several months we continued to attend 
orgies at the Ungers' mansion fairly regularly. We all 
had other swaps, of course. Roger and I traded Helen 
and Sue Ann for a full week, and I came to enjoy waking 
up to the sight of her beautiful big tits and screwing 
her first thing in the morning. We also spent a couple 
of evenings with Jeff and Monica, during one of which 
we played unmixed doubles. The girls sucked each other 
off while the boys did likewise.

My feeling for Helen became, if anything, deeper. But a 
new element entered our relationship. At first it was a 
matter of Helen just not being very interested in sex 
privately. But after a while it became clear that she 
only had real pleasure when there was an audience 
watching her, even if it was only an audience of one. 
We kept on with our marital sex, but mirrors all around 
the bedroom became necessary. The innovation was not 
unwelcome to me. I had posed erotically with Helen 
before for still photos, but it was different to see 
myself actually fucking her. Still, it didn't appeal to 
me the way it did to her. I was becoming more a voyeur 
and she more an exhibitionist.

Nothing really different happened, however, until late 
spring when I received word that I was being shifted to 
a traveling job. When the change came, I would be out 
of town at least a third of every month. Naturally, at 
first this was depressing news, since it seemed that 
our sex life, which by now was about all we lived for, 
would be terribly disrupted. 

But after talking to other couples in the Unger group, 
we began to look at the job change in a new light. Some 
of them, it turned out, had swinging contacts in the 
cities I would most often be visiting, and they 
suggested that we make contact with these people by 
mail to provide in advance a good time wherever we 
went. Since these were private contacts and not sex-
club ads, this seemed like a good idea, and we set 
ourselves to letter writing.

It took us a few tries to get the hang of it, but 
pretty soon we had active correspondence going with 
couples in three different cities. Since we had 
personal introductions, we didn't have to go through 
the rigmarole of cautious metaphor and innuendo. I 
still have the second letter we received from Madeleine 
and Jay Whitaker in Cleveland. I remember it came with 
a snapshot of the two of them sunning themselves in the 
altogether. It reads:

     Dear Bob and Helen,

     Got your last letter just as we were leaving for
     the golf course. Wow! What pictures! We got so 
     hot looking at them that I just had to pull 
     Maddy's shorts down and stick it up her. 

     Imagine, standing up in front of our picture 
     window! Lucky the neighbors weren't out. When 
     are you coming to town? I can't wait to sink my
     face into those luscious boobs of yours, Helen. 
     And Maddy's longing to suck you off, Bob. Write 
     us again soon.
 
     Sincerely,
     Jay

     PS: I may not be ambidextrous, but while I've 
         been writing this right-handed, I've had my
        left hand in Maddy's pants, that explains 
        what the stains on the paper are.
  
          J.W.

Naturally, after reading that we could hardly wait to 
go to Cleveland.

Fortunately, the opportunity came only a few days after 
the letter. My wife wasn't expected to accompany me, of 
course, but we had the money necessary, so she went 
anyway. We flew there in the morning and checked into 
our motel. Then I went to the company I was supposed to 
visit, and Helen went off to the art museum. We were 
figuring on a one-night stay, and if things worked out 
well, two nights.

When I got back to the motel, Helen was already there 
and dressing to go out. The Whitakers had called and 
arranged for us to meet them at a cocktail lounge. This 
was fine with us since it was neutral ground, and if we 
didn't like each other, we could call it off.

The lounge was both very fancy and very dark. We had 
expected to recognize them from their pictures, but the 
tables were so dimly lit we had to ask the waitress to 
point them out. Jay got up and let Helen slide into the 
curving booth seat next to Madeleine, while I seated 
myself on her far side. Their pictures really hadn't 
done them justice. Their outdoor activities gave them 
both a bronzed, healthful look that made them both 
younger and handsomer than we had anticipated.

We ordered drinks and chatted for a while. I hadn't 
arranged any signal with Helen, but I could tell she 
was really digging Jay. And, for my part, I found 
Madeleine captivating. She was somewhat older than I 
and had a sleek, tawny look. I wasn't sure how we were 
impressing them until the third round of drinks had 
been served and Madeleine reached into my crotch and 
felt for my penis. Despite my surprise, it became quite 
evident where it was --  quite quickly. In response, I, 
as unobtrusively as possible, put my hand under her 
dress between her conveniently parted legs. Exploring 
deeper, I felt a diaphanous wisp of cloth and under it 
the soft hairy crevice of her twat.

The Whitakers seemed quite confident and poised at this 
game and kept perfect composure above table level. I 
was nervous, but I imitated them and played along. 
Presently, things reached such a pass that, however 
innocent our quartet may have looked to someone 
standing in front of the table, the scene from my point 
of view was scandalous. 

The girls had gotten both of our pricks out, and Maddy 
was gently jacking me off. Jay and I, on the other 
hand, had the girl's dresses belly high and were 
sampling the wares inside their panties. Believe me, 
trying to chat and hold a drink with one hand while 
you're frigging the girl you're talking to with the 
other is a difficult job. Fortunately, Jay decided it 
was time to go, and after due preparations and 
formalities we made it to the fresh air outside.

They drove us back to our motel, and we hardly had time 
to get into our room before Maddy was on her knees 
sucking me off. I was feeling rather passive, so I just 
stood and enjoyed her sucking and watched her husband 
disrobe my wife, explore her body and finally lay her 
on the bed and lick her cunt. As always, this got me 
all excited, so I threw Maddy down on the bed beside 
Helen, yanked her panties down and stuck my cock in 
her. 

Being right beside Helen, I could watch her eyes melt 
as Jay licked her slippery pussy. Then he, too, was 
ready to go. He moved on top of her and slipped it in. 
After a few seconds, we synchronized our movements. For 
every stroke he gave my wife, I gave the same to his. 
With us going together and the girls bucking their 
pelvises against our pricks in the same rhythm, I 
thought the bed was going to collapse. But it held, and 
I had the triumph of withholding my orgasm until after 
Jay had had his.

The four of us lay on our backs side by side 
recovering. I casually undid the front of Maddy's 
dress, which I hadn't bothered with earlier, and 
massaged her tits.

Jay interrupted, "Hey, Maddy, button up and pretend 
you're coming home late."

I didn't follow what Jay wanted, but Madeleine did. She 
fixed her dress property, patted her hair into shape, 
and went to the door to the room. Then she turned 
around and walked forward. "Hello, Dear," she said in a 
gay, artificial voice, "I'm home. Sorry I'm late."

"Where you been?" queried Jay.

"Oh, just out with the girls."

"Until midnight? I don't suppose you've been out with 
the boys, too," he said sarcastically. "Come here."

Madeleine walked up to him and stopped. Jay fixed her 
with his eyes, and then in a sudden movement pulled her 
skirt up to her waist. Not only was her tawny bush 
naked, but it was obviously damp, and gobbets of white 
semen were seeping down the insides of her thighs. Jay 
stuck his hand into her gooey crotch and held it to her 
face.

"What do you think this is?" he demanded. Madeleine 
didn't answer. "Lick it off my fingers," he said 
sternly. Madeleine began to lick the mixture of come 
and cunt juice as she was directed. But Jay stopped her 
and instead threw her onto the bed and started fucking 
her brutally with a tremendously erect cock. Strangely 
enough, their little charade had gotten me hot again, 
and I rolled on top of Helen. The load of come in her 
cunt made fucking almost too slippery, but we were both 
hot, and we came very quickly.

Then, once again the four of us stretched out 
recuperating, I decided to ask Jay why they played 
their little game.

"Actually," he answered, "it's just acting out the 
start of our swapping lives. Up until a couple of years 
ago, we had never done any swinging. Each of us in 
secret, however, had had a couple of little affairs. I 
had taken a couple of secretaries to bed, and Maddy had 
provided entertainment on occasion for some of the 
lifeguards at the country club. 

What happened was that one day we had been playing 
tennis, and on the way back to the clubhouse Maddy had 
seen, or said she had seen, a friend she wanted to chat 
with. I went on ahead, and Maddy went off and got 
herself poked by the lifeguard. The way I found out was 
that some bad carpentry in the men's locker room had 
left a very large crack through which you could see 
into the ladies' locker room. It was behind some 
lockers, and I don't think anyone had discovered it but 
me. But I always sneaked a peek whenever the men's 
locker room was deserted. 

So I was taking in the sights in the ladies' locker 
room, and in particular watching a cute little teen-
ager with a black twat put on her bikini, when Maddy 
walked in. The teenager walked out at the same time.

Maddy's back was toward me, and I watched her bend over 
to untie her tennis shoes. As she leaned over, the hem 
of her little tennis skirt rose, and to my fantastic 
surprise, she didn't have her panties on. Before me 
gaped her rosy pink crack, and just about to drip out 
of it was a milky white dollop of semen. I can't 
describe how I felt. 

I was angry and horrified, but even more I was 
titillated and transfixed. What I did was unbelievably 
foolish, but it had no unfortunate results. I 
impulsively ran next door and burst into the locker 
room, which, but for Maddy, was empty. There I 
confronted her, made her lick the lifeguard's come from 
my fingers and fucked her. And ever since then, that's 
been the central motivation for all of our swapping. It 
turns us on every time."


Chapter 5
---------

By the end of the year, Helen and I had become part of 
a fairly solid network of erotic friendships covering 
most of the Middle West. As often as possible, we 
traveled together and enjoyed some sort of group 
activity wherever we went. Only occasionally did I have 
to go someplace where we didn't have any contacts, and 
when I did, Helen didn't go with me. There was one 
exception to that, however, when I had to visit a small 
company close to a well known lake resort. We had never 
been there before, so Helen insisted on going along 
just to see it.

We stayed in a very casual, but nevertheless very 
expensive, hotel in the resort area. And while I spent 
my days puzzling over management problems, Helen spent 
hers swimming in the indoor solarium pool. I envied her 
lounging all day around the steamy, carpeted solarium, 
particularly after I poked my head in one day and 
caught a glimpse of the other nymphs sitting around the 
edge. 

I had thought that Helen's bikini might be a little 
risqué for a mid-western resort, since it wasn't wired 
and padded and consequently showed very clearly the 
opulent curves beneath it. But a look at the other 
girls told me my intuition had, once again, been overly 
conservative. There were at least a half-dozen real 
beauties there, and none of them were better covered 
than Helen.

What really surprised me, though, was coming home one 
evening and finding fifty dollars lying on the dresser.

"Where did this come from?" I asked.

"I earned it fucking," came the answer.

I was dumfounded. Helen walked into the sitting room 
from the bedroom, still in her bikini, and laughed at 
my shocked look. She walked up and gave me a kiss.

"I'll tell you all about it. I was sitting by the pool 
this afternoon chatting with the cute brunette chick. 
Her name is Denise. I somehow mentioned that the girls 
around the pool were awfully pretty, and she laughed at 
me and asked me if I didn't know why. I said I didn't, 
and she said that most of them were employed by the 
management to make things pretty for the visiting 
businessmen and that they were also employed regularly 
by the businessmen to make them even happier.

I was pretty amazed, because it had never occurred to 
me that they were prostitutes. But as Denise went on, 
she made it sound like a rather appealing job. Since 
she was paid just to sit around, she never had to 
accept a man she didn't like. 

The hotel was so high class, the men always paid real 
well. I asked her if she always went to the guy's room, 
because I had noticed that some men brought their 
wives, like you did. She said that usually they did, 
but that in a pinch the really foggy corners of the 
room had been used and that once in a while the 
management permitted them to open the pool for night 
swimming with only the underwater lights on.

Then she had to go, and I sat around thinking about 
what she had said. That's when it occurred to me to try 
my hand at whoring, too. So I moved my seat over to a 
secluded area in a foggy comer and lay back in my chair 
and waited. Sure enough, pretty soon this guy named 
Chad came over and asked to join me. I smiled and 
agreed, and he pulled his chair up close alongside. 
Then we chatted, and he sort of casually put his hand 
on my stomach. And then he started moving it around 
real lightly, yeah, that's right, "We were on the bed, 
and I was matching her words with action, "and up on my 
tits and armpits," she went on, "My nipples got nice 
and hard, and he pinched them through my suit. Then he 
dropped his hand down and moved it between my legs, 
first on top of my suit and then under it, ohh, that's 
nice -- and then he put his fingers up my crack. And 
then he whispered, 'Room 508 in ten minutes' and left.

Needless to say, I followed him, and we fucked, 
"Ohhh..." I drove into her creamy cunt and came in 
seconds. "Oh, Bobby, that was nice. You do it better 
than Chad, so I won't make you pay me fifty dollars."

Then we proceeded to discuss Helen's exploit further, 
and she confessed that knowing she was going to be paid 
for fucking was almost as appealing as doing it in 
front of a crowd of people. She also said that Denise 
had told her that tonight there was going to be night 
swimming, in case she wanted to see what went on. 
That's what had prompted her to tell me about the fifty 
dollars. She wanted very much to go night swimming, but 
she didn't want to sneak out on me. So she was offering 
me her fifty dollars to pay for a girl for me if I came 
along.

I accepted her offer, but I felt pretty funny about it. 
I had never heard of anyone taking the money his wife 
earned by whoring and spending it for a whore. Such 
considerations didn't prevent me from slipping into my 
trunks and bathrobe after dinner, however, and padding 
down to the solarium. The door was locked, and of 
course no lights shone around it from the other side, 
but slight sounds could be heard.

Helen gave the coded knock that Denise had taught her, 
and the door swung open. A luscious babe in a red 
bikini was the smiling doorman, but beyond her we 
couldn't see a thing. We groped our way into the steamy 
darkness (I confess I groped the doorman's big boobs in 
the process) and rounded a partition into the pool area 
itself.

Things were lighter because of the underwater lights, 
although the steam still gave the place an unreal 
atmosphere. Two girls were paddling around in the water 
while three fellows watched from the edge. There seemed 
to be other people in the surrounding shadows, too. 
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man appeared and spoke to 
Helen.

"Hi Helen."

"Hi Chad."

"I see you've got a friend already." He looked at me.

"Oh," said Helen, "We're not together. We just came in 
at the same time." She put her arm around Chad's waist 
and pressed her chest and stomach against him.

Chad brightened. "Well, in that case, maybe you and I 
could go off and do a little-uh-swimming together."

"Sure," answered Helen in a mock husky voice. "You dive 
in and I'll follow your lead." Chad laughed, and the 
two of them disappeared into the shadows. One sentence 
came back to me as they moved off. "Ooooh, Chad, your 
hand's wet."

This left me to fend for myself, and I moved over to 
the pool. Two of the guys were in the pool with the 
chicks now. Two bikini tops were floating on the water, 
and through the distortion of the brightly lit water I 
could see the rosy tips of the girls' tits receiving 
the proper attention. I sat on the edge and dangled my 
feet, watching them frolic. 

The girls pantsed one of the guys, and he swam on his 
back to make his rod stick up like a periscope. One of 
the girls followed him. The other girl clinched with 
the other guy, and they made their way out of the pool, 
heading for darker parts of the room.

Then a newcomer appeared at the deep end. She was of 
medium build with shoulder-length black hair. She 
reminded me of Maria Cordoba, but she was bigger. And 
her suit was something special. It consisted of three 
pieces of white cloth attached to brass rings above her 
hips. 

One piece of cloth descended between her legs like a 
loincloth, and the other two crossed, covering her 
breasts and coming down in back to the brass rings 
again. What made the outfit a knockout was that the 
angle formed by the two rings and her crotch was 
sharper than the natural angle of her mound of Venus. 
That is to say, her suit rose so sharply to her hips 
that the two upper comers of her precious triangle 
revealed themselves in tight black ringlets.

She climbed the steps to the diving board, and walked 
to the end. She posed on the end like a statue. Her 
body was beautiful. Then she put her arms forward, 
shrugged her shoulders in a funny way that made her 
suit straps slide down on them, and sprang into space, 
spreading her arms wide and thus pulling the top parts 
of her suit free of her breasts. It was a beautiful 
swan dive made perfect by the pointed swell of her full 
bare breasts.

I watched her swim underwater in my direction, but I 
was still surprised when she surfaced right at my feet. 
I stared down at her lovely, smiling face and succulent 
bosom. She nodded, and I slid into the warm water. Our 
bodies and mouths flowed together naturally. Freeing 
one hand from the edge of the pool, I eased it under 
her suit and between her legs. As warm and wet as the 
water was, the slicker moisture of her cunt was both 
wetter and warmer.

She burst away from me and started swimming. I chased 
her down to the shallow end. There I caught her, and 
after some fumbling -- which amused her -- figured out 
how to remove her suit entirely. Then she got mine off, 
and with the water supporting her weight, she lifted 
her legs around my hips and sank down on my cock. We 
couldn't really fuck without drowning, so we just stood 
united and kissed. 

After a while she dismounted. And with her head on my 
shoulder and my hand on her breast, we made our way to 
the ladder. She went up before me, and I was so drawn 
by the under view of her black pussy, that I stopped 
her and put my head up between her legs and licked her. 
Reluctantly, she stopped me and led me into the 
shadows.

Once my eyes adjusted, I could see better in the dark 
area. We passed a couple engaged in sixty-nine with the 
girl on top. I recognized the skinny back as that of 
the brunette Helen had called Denise. She may have been 
flat-chested, but she was obviously an expert when it 
came to sucking a guy's prick. Then we found a lounge 
chair where my girl friend made me lie down. She was 
obviously preparing to ride me, and what a ride she 
took. 

Always smiling down at me from her almost upright 
posture, she slid up and down on my prick and 
manipulated it with her cunt as facilely as she could 
have done with her mouth. At the top of a few strokes 
she reached down to feel my slippery cock and balls and 
finger my asshole. At other times she would feel her 
own nipples and look at me lasciviously. Her orgasm 
came hard and fast. Her clutching cunt brought me off 
immediately and squeezed me dry. Her face contorted, 
collapsed on me with a little sigh, and my limp penis 
slipped out of her cunt.

Lying there under the comfortable warm blanket of this 
beautiful girl, whose name I didn't even know, I 
thought about how to pay her in some graceful manner. 
There was no question of her being worth it; it was one 
of the best fucks I had ever had. But I had never paid 
a girl before, and I felt awkward about it.

My difficulty was solved, however, by the sudden 
appearance beside our chair of Helen and Chad. They 
were naked and smiling and looked as if they had just 
had a good session.

"Guess what?" Helen teased.

"What?"

"I told Chad that we were married and that I did it for 
free." I waited for her to go on.

"And guess what else?"

"I can't guess."

"He said that he was married too and that his wife was 
doing the same thing here that I was. Not only that, 
but she's lying on top of you right now."

I looked down at the head on my chest with its sweet 
drowsy eyes and strands of black hair stuck to its 
forehead.

"Carol," said Chad, "meet Bob Emery."

"Hi," she said in a sultry voice that matched 
everything else I knew about her. "You've got a great 
cock."

"Thank you-uh-Carol." I felt embarrassed. "You've got 
an awfully nice-uh-pussy, yourself."

She looked up at her husband, who was handling my 
wife's breasts. "You hear that, Chad? Bob likes my 
cunt."

Chad looked down at her in amusement. "Well, haven't I 
always said you had the finest crack that ever got 
fucked by ten men in one night?"

"Oh, Chad! You always bring that up. I don't do that 
kind of thing any more. You'll give Bob and..."

"Helen."

"Helen the wrong idea. I'm not promiscuous. I just go 
for what I like, and looking across that pool I knew 
right away that what I liked was what Bob had sticking 
out like a rolling pin between his legs."

"Say," said Chad, "it's getting a little chilly 
standing here. Why don't we go up to our room for a 
while."

We all agreed and retrieved our swimming suits from 
where they had gotten thrown off. Carol's and mine were 
floating in the pool with several others among three 
naked couples. When we were assembled, we went down the 
dark passageway to the door. The doorman was still at 
her post, but she wasn't guarding the door. Her suit 
was off, and she was lying back in a chair getting 
eaten out by a man on his knees. She never noticed us 
leave.

Once in Chad and Carol's room, Carol wanted to dance, 
so we turned on a late-night music program on the 
radio. The girls' tits quivered and bounced inside 
their suits, and pretty soon Chad and I had projections 
that bounced and jerked almost as much. Carol did her 
trick with her shoulders again to free her breasts, and 
Helen doffed her bra. 

Despite the criticism leveled at dancing apart from 
one's partner to the effect that it isn't as romantic 
as dancing in each other's arms, it can't be denied 
that if your partner is a gorgeous brunette with bare, 
beautifully pointed tits, it's a lot sexier to dance so 
you can see them bounce and feel them with your hands 
than it is to have them crushed against your chest.

Dancing without stopping, I was pinching Carol's 
nipples and getting my hands inside her pants; Chad was 
doing likewise with Helen. Finally, the girls took 
their bottoms off, and soon we were all dancing naked. 
We were dancing quite close together, so that Helen was 
rubbing her hips against mine on one side while my cock 
was just touching Carol's fleece in front of me. Then, 
somehow, I was facing Chad while between us the two 
girls were dancing with each other. 

They were really getting into the music, and soon their 
tits were rubbing together rhythmically. Carol reached 
for Helen's cunt first, but Carol wasn't far behind 
her. I could see through Helen's light covering of 
silky blonde hair the active movements of Carol's 
fingers inside her rosy slit. Carol began to pant, and 
the girls' bodies came closer together, rubbing against 
each other from tit to thigh. They bent backward in an 
attempt to bring their bushes into closer contact, then 
they broke off and headed for the bed.

Helen started on the bottom, but they rolled over so 
she was on top, squatting over Carol's mouth and 
herself licking the black-fringed crack still wet with 
my ejaculation. I knelt on the bed to watch more 
closely my wife's fevered sucking of Carol's cunt. I 
played with Helen's nipples, and then insinuated a 
finger deep in Carol's tight behind. 

I became hotter and hotter until I practically pushed 
Helen's head back in order to plant my own lips on the 
wet, splayed gash of pink cunt in front of me. I 
immersed my whole face in Carol's deep, delicious crack 
and feasted upon its silky insides. Close in front of 
me, Helen was still squatting over Carol's face. I 
could feel the warmth of her body as she leaned over 
me.

Then behind me, I felt another sensation of warmth, 
followed in seconds by the totally novel, but 
unmistakable, feel of Chad's prick pressing softly 
against my anus. I knew instantly that he was about to 
penetrate my ass, but my intoxication with the whole 
scene and his wife's superb cunt left me powerless to 
protest. He pushed slowly forward, and I felt my ass 
being stretched and stuffed. It was painful, but at the 
same time there was something exciting about the 
tremendous pressure against my rear. 

My cock stiffened even more as he slid deeper into me. 
And then I felt the urge I had seen Helen give way to 
months before at the Ungers' party to push backward to 
deepen the contact. Backward I pushed, and I think the 
pain of his cock going in still deeper made me bite 
Carol's cunt. I can't remember clearly, but I remember 
she gave a strong jerk at that moment. Chad's 
withdrawal brought a momentary sense of relief and 
emptiness, but then he was driving once more, and I was 
involuntarily pushing back against him.

I was being fucked. As often as I had fucked various 
women, I had never really experienced the feeling it 
produced in them, the penetrated, forced feeling that I 
was experiencing now. I vaguely sensed Helen climaxing 
through the actions of Carol's able tongue. I was too 
engrossed in what was being done to me. I couldn't miss 
Chad's climax, however, for it took real strength to 
bear up under the last violent thrusts he aimed at my 
tortured ass. He withdrew, and I still had not come. 

The frustration and feeling of vacuity was tremendous. 
Almost in a frenzy I slithered up Carol's body, nipped 
at her deep red nipples and sank my iron hard rod 
inside her. Never had I fucked a woman with the force 
that I fucked Carol at that moment. I came off in less 
than a minute and brought her off, too. But the release 
and satisfaction were as great as if we had 
deliberately prolonged it for hours.

It was a good half-hour before I had recovered enough 
to think about going back to our room. My ass still 
ached when I raised my leg to put it into my swimming 
suit. We put on our bathrobes and, with one last torrid 
embrace with our opposite numbers, we went down the 
hall to our room.

I hesitated to talk with Helen because I was afraid of 
her feelings after having watched me in homosexual 
intercourse. Strangely enough, I felt embarrassed by 
the experience. To try to forget it, I took a shower, 
and soon Helen crowded into the stall with me. I still 
kept my silence, but she broke hers.

"I know you feel bad, Bob. That's how I felt, you know, 
at the Ungers' after that initiation." I didn't say 
anything. "And I know you must have really enjoyed 
getting screwed by Chad, since I know I love having a 
girl lick me out. And all I want to say is, don't feel 
bad because you think I disapprove. I don't think 
you're a fairy just because you like the feel of a 
prick in your ass. I know a thousand times over you're 
not a fairy, and I think that if you want to suck guys 
off or fuck them or let them fuck you, you should do 
it. Because I'll always love you." 

She put her arms around me and hugged me close in the 
hot driving spray. I was too moved to speak, and too 
happy. I really loved Helen. We finished the shower, 
soaping each other's genitals with accustomed 
thoroughness. Then we dried each other and retired to 
bed for a long, soft, soulful fuck and a restful sleep.

Chad and Carol were gone the next day, We never learned 
their last name.

But as I said before, usually if we had no contacts, 
Helen didn't travel with me, and that was the case when 
I got orders to go to Des Moines for a couple of days. 
I had gone to Des Moines before, and we had the name of 
a couple there named Riley. The Ungers had known them 
as swingers some years before, but they didn't know if 
they were still active in such matters. And when we had 
written them, we got no reply. 

Thus, I flew off to Des Moines alone with the promise 
of a dull couple of nights in a bar or at the movies. 
After the variety of healthy and straightforward sexual 
experiences I had had over the preceding two or three 
years, the notion of picking up a prostitute in a bar 
seemed to me unpalatable.

After one incredibly boring evening, however, I decided 
to look for something a little more lively. And the 
next night I tried ringing the Rileys on the telephone. 
The phone was answered by a woman with a soft, feminine 
voice who turned out to be Susan Riley. The domesticity 
of the voice didn't jibe with the Ed Unger's reference 
to her as a smoldering-hot piece, but I pressed on and 
told her that I was a friend of the Ungers, in town for 
a day on business, and that they had asked me to call 
up and say hello for them.

This left the ball pretty much in her lap, which suited 
me fine, since I certainly didn't want to force myself 
on them. I thought that -- swinging aside -- many 
people I knew refused to swing without their spouses 
around. I still might get invited out for a drink and 
spend a pleasant evening in conversation. 

To my delight, she didn't just brush me off but instead 
said that they would like to see me if her husband 
could free himself from some work he was doing. I 
waited for her to consult him. When she returned, she 
asked if I wasn't the Bob Emery who wrote them while 
they were in Europe. I said that I was, hoping that it 
wouldn't screw the invitation, and she confirmed the 
invitation with what sounded to me like a trifle more 
enthusiasm.

As I sat around the lobby, waiting to be picked up, I 
tried to keep my mind off sex and concentrate on just 
spending a quiet evening. I tried to guess, as people 
entered the hotel, which of them was coming for me, and 
held my breath with trepidation every time a 
disagreeable-looking person made an inquiry at the 
desk. 

Yet, despite my watchfulness, I was taken completely by 
surprise when a voice beside me asked if I was Mr. 
Emery. I turned my head and affirmed my identity only 
to be startled almost into silence by who had asked it. 
I couldn't believe that the girl was old enough to 
drive, although I found out later she was all of 
fifteen and had a learner's permit. She was very slight 
and young with wispy blonde hair which gave her an 
ethereal look.

"I'm Sally Riley. Mom sent me down to pick you up."

We made small talk as we went out to the car. It was a 
vintage Jaguar, which impressed me. But once we got in, 
I suddenly felt ill-at-ease. While I was now resigned 
to a quiet conversational evening, I was still 
suffering a hangover from my earlier speculation which 
brought erotic thoughts to mind as soon as Sally got 
in. As aware as I was that high school kids were 
different from what they had been a decade earlier, I 
couldn't help being surprised at just how much leg a 
girl in a mini-skirt crammed into the low seat of a 
sports car might be expected to show. 

I knew that a good lean forward would let me see her 
underpants, and I tried to restrain the temptation. But 
finally under the guise of adjusting my coat behind me 
I made the move and caught a glimpse of the always-
thrilling soft swell between a girl's legs, this time 
clothed in white cotton. For the first time in many 
months I was embarrassed to feel my cock rising and 
made the traditional movements to conceal it.

In order to take my mind off her beautiful, soft-
looking thighs, I concentrated on how well she drove 
the car and asked her about her brothers and sisters. 
It turned out that she had a brother a year younger and 
that both of them had private tutors instead of public 
schooling, since the family traveled a lot 
internationally. This, fortunately, provided the 
opening for a conversation that carried us safely to 
the Riley house.

The house was large, but not the palace that 
acquaintance with the Ungers and Sally's accounts of 
European visits had led me to expect. I even felt a 
little disappointed, but as a residence for only half a 
year, I could hardly have expected more realistically. 
Sally took me into the living room, and again I was 
surprised. I had become used to swingers, and, I had 
supposed, ex-swingers, affecting a taste for the 
sensual and the modern. After being in a dozen rooms 
furnished in "functional modern," with the emphasis 
being on the sexual function, it was gratifying to see 
traditional furniture in a traditional living room 
setting.

I was put so much at my ease by the atmosphere, that 
meeting the Rileys was not at all embarrassing. I said 
hello to Susan without mentally stripping her, although 
I couldn't fail to notice that if I had stripped her, I 
would have liked what I imagined, and to Tom without 
wondering how big his prick was. I also met their son, 
Steven, and another couple in for the evening, Evelyn 
and Harry Stark. 

Pretty soon we were all sitting around like old 
friends, talking and drinking and laughing. The kids 
drank, too, but I chalked that up to the European 
travel. I told them what I knew about recent events in 
the Unger family, insofar as I could keep it clean, and 
in general I settled down for a comfortable family 
evening. I didn't even avail myself of a couple of 
chances to look up Eve's legs, although I wanted to.

The degree to which I was absorbed into the homey 
atmosphere is testified to by the fact that no light 
flashed in my mind when Harry Stark suggested that we 
all watch some home movies. Ordinarily, the words "home 
movies" would have been a signal for me of hot things 
to come; but this time it only signaled a family 
travelogue of European capitals. The reel that the 
Starks asked for, however, was the one of Sally's first 
formal dance the year before. I thought she blushed 
angelically at the suggestion.

So we all moved about finding equipment or seats, and 
in a few minutes the lights went out with me sitting on 
an overstuffed sofa next to the hostess, Susan. 9-8-7-
6-5-4-3-2-and there in color was what I assumed was the 
upstairs of the Riley house. The scene traveled into 
Sally's room and found her with her back to us facing a 
mirror and holding before her a soft blue gown made of 
layers of diaphanous material. 

It was a cute shot, and I berated myself for noticing 
that her adolescent back was lovely and also bare, 
except for white panties. I still felt guilty, rather 
than suspicious, when the camera recorded her lowering 
her dress a bit before cutting, an act that revealed 
for a split second darling young breasts with soft, 
light pink tips.

Next we were looking at her being picked up by her 
date, who looked older than she by quite a bit. The 
gown was strapless and of an Empire cut. With long 
gloves, it suited her light, ethereal look perfectly. I 
wondered whether she was encased beneath it in some 
sort of wire bra, but a cut to a shot from above 
dispelled that wonder. The gown was obviously held up 
by a tight fit around the torso, for the décolleté was 
quite loose, giving us another glimpse of her 
tantalizing young breasts.

At long last the thought occurred to me that perhaps I 
was not among a quiet family group. Was it possible 
that the entire family was promiscuous? I looked about 
me for evidence, but I couldn't be certain. I was at a 
bad angle for looking unobtrusively at the sofa with 
Harry Stark and the kids, but it looked like Tom, 
sitting on the floor beside the projector, might just 
possibly have his arm on the side away from me between 
the legs of Eve, who was on a chair beside him.

I realized that a wrong conclusion could be disastrous, 
so I held my peace through a series of shots of a dance 
in what I took to be a hotel ballroom. Among the guests 
were Susan and Tom, but the camera kept track of Sally 
chatting and dancing with a number of men. Then came a 
cut back to the empty living room. We were waiting for 
Sally to come home. A car door slammed, and then 
another. Then came the key in the lock. Sally appeared, 
looking quite gay, and turned to say good-night to her 
date. Inaudible words were said, and then he took her 
in his arms. They kissed, and from the back what we saw 
were his hands stroking her, following her figure, and 
eventually squeezing her slender butt.

Then she broke from his embrace and turned into the 
room facing the camera. He followed, closing the door 
with his foot, and put his arms around her from behind. 
Sally's face was flushed, and she threw her head back 
as her date bowed his head to kiss her bare neck and 
shoulders. His kisses were long and lavish, and his 
hands made equally loving explorations of the young 
girl's body. Rising from her stomach, they framed her 
slender torso and then settled on her lovely, slight 
bosom, pressing and massaging the young rising tits 
beneath their covering of cloudy blue cloth. 

The prolongation of this action before he finally 
reached for the neckline of her dress was tantalizing. 
But at last he made that crucial move. Finding the 
neckline to be held up by nothing but loose elastic, he 
pulled the blue bodice down and bared the virgin tits 
beneath it. The Empire line was realized as it was 
always meant to be. The soft blue of the dress rose in 
long vertical folds to just below Sally's tits, and 
from there up was only the smooth creamy expanse of her 
fledgling breasts and long neck, accented by the 
budding pink points of her tits, now standing up hard 
under the working of her date's agile fingers.

I was still afraid of being precipitate, but the sight 
of the beautiful daughter was too much, and I ventured 
timidly to rest my hand on the knee of her equally 
beautiful mother sitting beside me. Her reaction was to 
cover my hand with her own in an intimate but at the 
same time restraining manner.

On the screen, Sally was now ensconced on one of the 
big sofas, and her boyfriend was kneeling beside it, 
sucking and nibbling at her delicious tits while 
exploring beneath her gown with one hand. The viewer 
could only guess what he was about from the movements 
of the cloth and Sally's expression, but the rapture on 
her face and the fact that the most vigorous movements 
appeared to be in the warm pocket where her legs met 
her body made the guessing easy. I ached to see her 
crack and the fingers working inside it. 

The frustration made me think once again of the woman 
beside me, and to my surprise I found that while I was 
absorbed in watching one man's hand intruding into one 
crotch, my own had crept, without too much trouble, 
quite a way beneath her dress toward another one. 
Susan's hand was no longer covering mine, and in a 
second I felt the familiar erotic bulge of panty-
covered cunt. Her legs opened slightly, and I started 
to stroke between them.

Back on the screen Sally had at last changed her 
position. Half slouching on the couch to bring her butt 
to the edge of it, she had her long thin legs draped 
over the shoulders of her kneeling date. His head was 
buried between them paying the attentions of love to 
her cunt. 

Then came a very sudden cut, and we were watching the 
humping back of her date pounding his cock into sweet 
Sally. I was sorry to have missed the final seduction, 
but the angle for this final act was superb, and the 
camera zoomed in on the juncture where his oiled piston 
was ramming into her sparsely haired hole. I was inside 
Susan's pants and fingering her hole as I watched her 
daughter being screwed.

The young couple on the screen had barely come to their 
mutual climax when sounds were heard outside, and it 
was apparent that Sally's parents were coming home. In 
a comic frenzy the boy pulled on his trousers while 
Sally rearranged her gown. Her filmy panties were 
kicked hurriedly under the sofa, and by the time the 
front door opened, they both looked exceedingly proper, 
sitting and talking together. 

After that, the film cut, and once again we were 
upstairs. Sally was standing in pajamas in the hallway. 
Her mother came up to her in an elegant negligee, 
kissed her good-night, and the two of them retired down 
the hallway in different directions. Then the screen 
split. On one half, Tom was sitting on the bed with his 
shorts on. Susan was in front of him looking down at 
him as he lovingly roamed his hands around beneath her 
negligee, transparent now because of backlighting.

On the other half of the screen, Sally was standing 
before her mirror examining her reflection. She 
unbuttoned her pajama tops and squeezed her breasts. 
Then she rubbed her nipples until they stood up hard. 
Tom now had his head beneath Susan's negligee and 
between her legs. Sally undid the button at the side of 
her pajama bottoms and let them fall to the floor. The 
fine, light, golden fleece on her mound betrayed the 
rosy pink of the soft young cunt-lips beneath it. 

She was truly a beautiful girl. She watched herself in 
the mirror, running her fingers through her cunt-hair. 
Then she opened her legs and ran her fingers deeper 
between her legs, gradually parting and penetrating the 
rosy lips. On the other half of the screen in the now-
darkened master bedroom, Tom was mounted on Susan and 
socking it into her, while in the well-lighted boudoir 
their daughter was beginning to frig herself for real. 

She was sitting now on her dressing chair with her legs 
thrown over the arms, exposing the sweet pink gash of 
her cunt to the mirror at which the camera was aimed. 
She slid the middle finger of her right hand in and out 
of her hole, spreading the soft lips with her other 
fingers. Then she began to concentrate more on the 
sensitive bud just above her slit, rubbing it with 
increasing speed. Her mouth was open and her eyes half 
closed. With her other hand she spanned the distance 
between her stiff nipples and rubbed them as well. 

The sound track was from the parents' room and went 
with the shadows of their humping forms, but the pants 
and grunts and little cries superimposed on Sally's 
solitary masturbation seemed like sounds coming from 
her torrid, young girl's imagination. 

I heard her parents build toward their climax, but the 
effect was of being inside Sally's mind imagining some 
passionate, romantic fuck while she went at her tits 
and clit harder and harder. Her butt half lifted out of 
the chair as she came closer to the end; and then, just 
as her mother uttered a loud cry in response to her 
father's prick spurting inside her, Sally's back 
stiffened and a grimace of orgasm came over her face.

With the end of the movie someone turned on the light. 
I still had my hand inside Susan's pants, and she had 
gotten my cock out and had been frigging it for the 
last few minutes. Still, I felt sheepish doing such 
things in this homey environment. I looked around and 
immediately felt less sheepish. Evelyn Stark had one 
leg around Tom's shoulder so his head was cushioned on 
the inside of her naked thigh a few inches from her 
wide open twat with its bushy tangle of dark brown 
hair. 

Occasionally he turned his head slightly and licked a 
bit at the sultry cunt, but neither of them looked 
terribly aroused. Over on the other couch, Sally looked 
as sweet and virginal as ever despite Harry Stark's 
long arms, one draping over her shoulder and resting 
under her blouse on her breast and the other deeply 
ensconced inside the white cotton panties I had 
glimpsed so longingly in the car. For her part, Sally 
had her hand in her brother's lap and was stroking his 
delicate fourteen-year-old penis sticking out of his 
fly. But that tableau was not a frenzied one either. I 
wondered if in this household even orgies were quiet 
and decorous.

"How did you like the movie, Bob?" said Tom 
nonchalantly.

"I thought it was great," I said, not knowing quite 
what I should say.

"It was all posed, you know. Sally's quite a little 
actress. It really looked candid, didn't you think?"

"Very much so. I've seen a lot of stag movies, but I 
never would have mistaken this for one. It was more 
like an excellently produced home movie."

"Harry's the photographer, but he's only half the 
secret." Tom got up and walked over to his daughter. 
"It's my little Sally who's the real secret. No one 
fucks as beautifully as Sally."

The girl blushed. "Oh, daddy, you make me embarrassed."

"Wouldn't you like to go over and fuck Mister Emery." I 
couldn't believe my ears.

"Oh sure, I've been wanting to ever since he started 
peeking under my skirt in the car."

"I didn't know you noticed that!"

"Oh, that's okay," said Sally. "I wanted you to. 
Whenever I'm with a man I think is nice, I give him a 
chance to look at my pussy. If he takes advantage of 
it, I know he wants to fuck me. Momma taught me that. 
Momma taught me lots of things. She's the one you 
should really fuck; she's great."

Susan looked at me as if she were oblivious to my 
fingers still stroking her cunt. "Well, I may have more 
tricks and more practice than Sally, but I'm sure you'd 
really prefer to feel what it's like inside a fifteen 
year old. You've probably fucked lots of women my age." 
She punctuated this by giving my prick a skillful 
little squeeze. I felt I was being pushed toward making 
a choice I didn't want to make between a beautiful 
experienced woman and a delicate young teen-ager. 
Fortunately, Evelyn saved me from the dilemma.

"Look, you two, it's not fair making poor Bob choose 
between you. You both know he wants to fuck both of 
you, so why don't you just let him lie back and both of 
you take care of him together."

That seemed to settle things, and before I knew it we 
had adjourned to a less formal room with a narrow 
backless, armless couch in it, sort of like a soft cot. 
Susan took my coat and started unbuttoning my shirt 
while her daughter worked on my pants. I realized that 
Harry was quietly taking pictures with a movie camera, 
but I didn't care. Soon I was naked, and my two clothed 
attendants had me lie down on my back on the couch. 
They stood on either side of the couch and began to 
undress each other. 

I could see up both their mini-skirts to Sally's opaque 
cotton panties and her mother's nearly transparent 
nylon ones with the shadow of her cunt-hair showing 
beneath them. I reached up and stroked both bulging 
cunts and watched them take off each others blouses, 
kissing each other passionately once or twice. Sally's 
tits were small and developing with vivid pink nipples. 
Susan's were fuller but still slight, with slightly 
larger and darker nipples. The two women stroked and 
pinched each other's breasts, and I could feel their 
crotches dampening beneath my fingers.

"Let him suck your tits first, Momma," said Sally. Her 
mother bent over until her luscious breasts were 
hanging directly over my face. I pulled her lower and 
buried my face in their softness. My mouth found one 
nipple and my hands, the other. In a few minutes she 
stood up. Sally had taken off the rest of her own 
clothes and her mother's. I looked at them for a 
moment, both beautifully naked, and then Sally laid her 
slim figure on top of me. Her tits were above my face, 
and the pink tips were almost unbearably young and 
tender. I touched one hesitantly with my tongue, then 
sucked it firmly into my mouth. Soon Sally was moaning 
with pleasure.

I felt hands, which I took to be Susan's, between my 
legs, deftly stroking my cock and balls. And then they 
were replaced by the delicious warmth of a woman's 
mouth. Susan sucked and licked my cock with consummate 
skill while I continued to suck her daughter's nipples 
one after the other. But Susan was attending to her 
daughter's lower parts as well, as I found out when 
Sally murmured, "Oh, Momma, that feels so good. Ohhhh, 
deeper! Harder, Momma; get it up my ass as far as you 
can!"

Knowing that Susan had her finger buried in her 
daughter's ass almost made me come, but a shift in 
positions forestalled it. Susan retreated from my 
prick, and Sally raised herself to a kneeling position. 
The incredible delicate, ethereal quality of her young 
girl's body hovering over my abdomen was now belied by 
the wild look in her eyes. The lines of her body all 
seemed to converge on the patch of yellow fluff between 
her spread legs. 

With a lascivious look, she reached beneath her yellow 
bush, wet her hand in her own cunt juice and smeared 
the heavenly lubrication all over my cock and balls. 
She reached again and smeared more on my stomach and 
chest and then on her own nipples. The tip of my prick 
was almost touching her juvenile slit, and I could 
hardly wait for her to descend on it.

Finally she did, slowly and deliberately, squirming her 
ass around so that my prick reached every part of her 
vagina. She slid up and down on my pole once or twice 
and then tantalizingly rose off it entirely. Putting 
her arms behind her and leaning back, she descended 
once more, and this time with unerring aim I felt my 
penis slide into the tight orifice of her ass, which 
her mother had obviously lubricated. The feel was 
fantastic as she sank down. Then she started slowly to 
fuck me in that position. I reached down and fondled 
the feathery entrance to her cunt, which was now more 
visible.

Susan, meanwhile, had been biding her time, and now she 
came back, mounting the couch above Sally's head. She 
lowered herself into position and received her 
daughter's tongue in her cunt. It was incredible. Susan 
fondled Sally's tits while she sucked her out, all the 
while never losing rhythm sliding up and down my pole. 
But the posture was obviously awkward, and after a 
minute or so they made one final shift. Both women got 
up. 

Susan climbed into her daughter's place and ensheathed 
my penis in her cunt. Sally came to the other end of 
the couch and mounted over my face, at last giving me a 
chance to taste her luscious slit. And that way we 
finished, the mother and daughter face to face, my 
prick inside the cunt of the one and my mouth on that 
of the other. I don't know which of us came off first. 
Suddenly everything was heaving and contracting, and I 
was pumping an incredible load of sperm into Susan.

We rose and turned to our audience. Harry claimed they 
were the best pictures he had ever gotten, and Eve, who 
appeared from her posture to have been serving as 
Harry's assistant by sucking his rod while he took 
pictures, was equally complimentary. Tom for the moment 
was speechless, for he had his prick buried in his 
son's ass and was fucking him like mad. 

In a short time, however, he and Steven joined the rest 
of us in recuperation and told us that he had never 
gotten so hot as he had watching Susan skewered on my 
cock and Sally perched on my mouth kissing each other 
and playing with each others tits. He had lost control 
of himself and just had to fuck Steven though he had 
been planning to save himself for Sally.

Then Steven piped up, "Can I fuck Sally, then, if you 
aren't going to?"

The naked parents looked at their children with almost 
comical looks of parental indulgence and said they 
could fuck if they wanted to. The two youngsters took 
the floor in front of us, looking like two fragile 
fairies. Steven's prick was quite thin, but it was 
already long and had a light growth of yellow hair 
around it. It looked a bit incongruous jutting out and 
almost touching his sister's blonde patch, because he 
was so young-looking otherwise. 

The children kissed and clasped each other and then 
sank to the floor in sixty-nine. Sally, who had looked 
like a Satanic angel poised over my crotch, tantalizing 
my prick with her cunt-lips just out of reach, now 
looked like a gangling kid. Her skinny legs straddled 
Steven's head, and he ate her out with great ferocity, 
licking her asshole occasionally and then pushing two 
fingers into it.

After a while, they turned the tables, and Steven, on 
top at last, poked his manly penis into his sister's 
divine cunt. Their juvenile bodies' bucking and 
churning in a great athletic fuck were too much for us 
oldsters looking on. Eve gave a moan, dropped her head 
into my lap and started sucking. Then, after juggling 
postures to get Eve on her knees on the couch, Tom 
slipped into her cunt from the rear. 

Susan finished the tableau by straddling Harry as he 
sat in an easy chair next to us and sinking onto his 
penis, just as she had done on mine minutes earlier. 
For me, though, delightful as Eve's mouth was on my 
prick, the real scene was still the kids. Since Steven 
was still no taller than his sister, they were a real 
match. Sally's upward thrusts to meet Steven's diving 
plunges brought her thin buttocks fully six inches off 
the floor. 

The slap of their genitals meeting and the slight 
squish from Steven's prick entering Sally's overflowing 
cunt were clearly audible over the moans and thrashing 
of the adults. But of course an end had to come, and it 
came for the kids with a tremendous climax. The height 
of their orgasmic ecstasy communicated to me, and an 
instant later I went over the brink and pumped my 
second load into Eve's mouth.

Recuperation this time was a much slower affair. We all 
put a few clothes on because it was slightly chilly and 
for an hour or so drank coffee and talked. The Rileys 
had obviously been asked to tell the story of their 
unusual family arrangement many times before, but they 
were willing to tell me once again. The way they told 
it, it seemed quite normal. They had been heavy 
swingers but had wanted children, so one day they 
stopped swinging and began fucking in earnest. 

Within two years this produced the two children they 
wanted, and then they gave thought to the implications 
of the situation. In some ways the long period of 
strict monogamy had deepened their relationship, but 
they both missed the old days. Tentatively, they 
contacted a few of their old friends and spent a few 
good nights in group love, but the eventual conflict of 
swinging and child-rearing was not lost to them. So 
they made a decision.

They had no lack of money, and when Sally was four and 
Steven three, they left the country and went to Sweden. 
There they joined a kind of nudist commune they had 
heard about. There were three other families, and they 
all shared a large beach front house in which they 
lived as a single group. 

Altogether there were ten children of various ages. The 
nudist part of the arrangement was pretty general on 
hot summer beach days, but it was also casually 
accepted at any time. On an average evening, there were 
at least a few people sitting around naked or partly 
clothed, and it was taken as entirely normal if one of 
the boys started to suck his sister's tits, or 
something like that. Fucking was most often done in the 
main living room in public, and more often than not, it 
involved more than two people.

In the course of time this completely free regime began 
to pale for the elder Riley's, but they stayed for 
quite a number of years in order to fully educate the 
children in that aspect of life. Then, after telling 
Sally and Steven as much about American mores as 
possible, they returned to the U.S. for a summer. The 
trip was a smashing success. 

The kids were a hit with swingers but even more of a 
hit with kids their own ages. Sally was only fourteen, 
but she went out with older boys and, needless to say, 
delighted them by letting them into her pants as far as 
they dared. Steven had his work cut out for him 
seducing fellow thirteen year olds, but he got along 
well.

After that summer, Tom and Susan decided to try moving 
back permanently, necessarily with a knowledgeable 
Swedish tutor for the kids. They had bought the house 
in Des Moines, and I was one of their first visitors 
since moving in.

I commented that they seemed like permanent residents 
instead of newcomers with all their traditional 
Midwestern decor, and Susan laughed.

"I know what you mean. We had the place decorated like 
this because we liked it, but after we had been here 
for only a few days, I came home from the grocery store 
and found Tom fucking Sally on the sofa, and I was 
absolutely shocked! It seemed so incongruous that it 
made me forget all those years in Sweden. Now, of 
course, I'm used to it, but I know how you feel."

That night I slept between Susan and Sally, and on 
awakening the following morning I had a long, 
delightful fuck with each of them. Then Sally drove me 
to my hotel to get my bags and on to the airport. There 
in the parking lot she crawled on top of me in the 
front seat and sank down on my bared prick. And thus I 
had my last fuck with the beautiful young girl.


Chapter 6
---------

When I returned from my unexpectedly pleasant trip to 
Des Moines, Helen was gone. The note she left read:

     Dear Bob,
 
     I'm sorry I had to do it this way, but I knew 
     that if you knew about it in advance, you'd stop
     me. Some time ago I was talking with Frank and 
     Marie and Dave and Judy, and the idea of putting
     on a real sex show for money came up. Well, you 
     know how it turns me on to have people watching 
     me, and how getting paid like a prostitute at 
     that resort affected me. 

     To be brief, that's the same feeling the other 
     four had, and so we decided to form a kind of 
     troupe. Frank thought he could get us some 
     engagements, and he wrote some letters and got
     replies. Then we took advantage of your trips 
     to do some practicing. We're really pretty 
     good now. 

     Finally, we had to put up or shut up. So that's 
     where I've gone. We have four engagements in 
     different cities, and then we'll be back at the
     Black Cat Club in Chicago for a final show. After
     that, we can all talk it over and decide whether
     to do more. You can join up if you want.

     I love you,
            Helen

     P.S. Don't worry, I'm using a false name and have
          dyed my hair.

I sat dumfounded for almost an hour after reading the 
letter. I couldn't believe it. Scarcely a year had 
passed since Helen first confessed to having read the 
sex books I had bought. And now this. It was the desire 
to understand what had come over her that eventually 
drove me to look in her diary, which I have already 
quoted a few times. 

Apart from occasional entries like those, I read for a 
long time without coming upon much that was pertinent 
to our sex life. Obviously, Helen was not confiding her 
new feelings even to her diary. Then, at last, I came 
to the sole entry that cast any light on her departure. 
It was dated just two weeks before, a time when I had 
been out of town.

"I can hardly wait now to start going. Tonight's 
rehearsal was the best yet, but I know it will be much 
different with an audience of strangers. I know Sue Ann 
and Roger too well to think of them as an audience. I 
think the feeling of watching and being watched must be 
different for men and women, or, more precisely, for 
husbands and wives. Husbands consider their wives their 
property and their cunts their private possessions. 

"Every time they see them being fucked by another man, 
it touches the strong emotion of ownership and fills 
them with a mixture of rage and guilt that sinks 
directly to their balls and makes their pricks an inch 
longer. They want to screw the wife of the man who is 
screwing their wife in order to get revenge. I think 
that is why husbands prefer watching their wives being 
fucked to being sucked. Penetration of her cunt is 
necessary for the full feeling.

"For a wife, on the other hand, it's exhibitionism 
rather than voyeurism that stimulates her. It's the 
desire of every woman to be prostituted and raped, to 
be laid out naked with her legs forcibly held open so 
that nothing can prevent anyone who wishes from 
fingering and licking her cunt and jamming his prick 
into it. I know this is an ugly view of women and is 
probably as much conditioned by our culture as is the 
husband's view, but it is certainly my motivation. 

"Chivalry may have meant protection of the ladies in 
the minds of the knights, but in the minds of the 
ladies I think being protected was no more thrilling 
than the inevitability of being stripped and publicly 
raped if their knights failed. God! I want to be fucked 
and fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked some more! 
I can hardly stand it even now as I write this even 
though only an hour ago I had both Frank and Roger 
inside me. I hope Frank finishes lining things up soon 
so we can get started."

My first inclination after reading this was to call Sue 
Ann and Roger and find out what they knew about the 
whole thing, but I waited a couple of days before doing 
so in order to sound out my own feelings better. I 
didn't want to get mad at somebody without really 
meaning it. And after waiting those days, my feelings 
changed. 

The anger I had felt at first, I realized, was at being 
deceived rather than at what Helen and the others were 
actually planning to do. But I also realized that Helen 
was right in saying that I would have stopped her if I 
had known about it. Thus, when I finally did go over to 
talk to Sue Ann and Roger, I was more interested in 
getting information than in fixing blame. Part of the 
conversation we had concerning Sue Ann and Roger's 
early sex life I have already recounted in a place 
where it fits better in my narrative.

The rest of what we talked about dealt primarily with 
how the idea had arisen and progressed and what exactly 
the five of them had been doing while I was on my 
business trips. There is no need to go into that in 
detail here. Suffice it to say that they had talked 
about the whole thing quite seriously before committing 
themselves and decided that it was what they really 
wanted to do. Sue Ann confirmed what Helen had written 
in her diary about the motivation of women and said 
that it affected her as well as Helen, Marie, and Judy. 

The main reason they hadn't joined was that Roger 
couldn't leave this job very easily and that he wasn't 
too enthusiastic about doing it, anyway. I didn't 
wonder at Frank's going along with the girls since I 
had found out some time earlier that he was quite proud 
of his big prick and liked to show it off. Dave was 
more a mystery to me, however, until Roger explained 
that Dave had hesitated at first and only gone along 
because Judy wanted to so much. Then, later, he had 
gotten turned on to the whole thing in practice and 
become enthusiastic like the others.

They had devised three different acts and made costumes 
to go with them. Roger and Sue Ann wouldn't tell me in 
detail what they were because they didn't want to spoil 
things if I decided to go to the show in Chicago, but 
they did reveal that one was an eighteenth century 
piece with fancy dresses and powdered wigs, one a wife-
swapping scene, and the other about incest. Naturally, 
this just whetted my interest, and we finally agreed to 
go to the show at the Black Cat Club together.

Most of the three weeks that elapsed between talking to 
Sue Ann and Roger I spent in writing what you have read 
until now, and it is now a week after the show that I 
am getting back to the typewriter. Needless to say, I 
was really keyed up and horny as hell when Roger and 
Sue Ann honked for me on the night of the show. I went 
out to their car and got in only to find the back seat 
already occupied by a very attractive girl with long 
dark hair dressed in a white lace mini-dress.

"Bob, this is Mary Callahan. She's a college friend of 
mine who just got into town, and I asked her to come 
with us. I hope you don't mind?"

It took a moment to find my tongue. "Oh, no, Sue Ann. 
It's fine. Great." And I slid in next to Miss Callahan. 
There wasn't a doubt in my mind but that Sue Ann knew 
what she was doing in inviting her lovely brunette 
friend along, but I played it straight and talked about 
general subjects as we sped into the city. I was not so 
scrupulous, however, that I failed to give Mary a 
pretty thorough once over, taking particular note of 
the spots of flesh showing through the lace which told 
me that the soft curve of her bosom was unassisted by a 
brassiere. It was starting out to be a pretty promising 
evening.

***

The Black Cat Club was on the near north side. It was a 
posh drinking and dining club, rather dark with a good 
jazz trio playing on the bandstand. It didn't look to 
me like a spot for a sex show, and it turned out not to 
be. Roger said a few words to the head waiter, and we 
were all led back to a door marked, Private Dining 
Rooms. 

We went through that door, past several others, and 
then through an unmarked door at the back which opened 
for us as we approached. Presumably a peephole had told 
the doorman we were legitimate. After that we descended 
a flight of steps and found ourselves at still another 
door which read, Bottomless at the Topless. Once again 
the door opened for us, and in we went.

The room was lushly decorated in deep reds. Thick 
draperies hung on all the walls, and the floor was 
carpeted thickly with crimson. About a dozen round, 
pedestal-type tables were scattered around a large open 
area which went all the way to one wall. This I took to 
be the performance area. We were given the last empty 
table, which had obviously been reserved for us next to 
the open area. Immediately a waitress in a tiny black 
uniform with absolutely magnificent large, bare 
breasts. Her nipples must have been touched up with 
rouge because they were so delectable-looking I wanted 
to get my mouth on them right then. But I held off; we 
ordered drinks.

Looking around the room some more, I counted eight 
topless waitresses, each of them a beauty, and four 
busboys who looked particularly handsome and well hung 
in tight pants and white silk shirts. The bartender 
seemed much the same. As for the other patrons, they 
were clearly of the swinger type. Elegant coiffures and 
discreet nudity marked the women. I don't think there 
was a bra in the house. Mary was a little modest-
looking, but Sue Ann in a lacy bolero, bare midriff and 
really low hipster mini-skirt fit right in. Even with 
all that bare tit around, I turned on to the big dark 
circles of Sue Ann's great nipples peeking through the 
lace.

When the second round of drinks came, a fallen napkin 
gave me a good chance to study more closely our 
waitresses costume. I bent over to retrieve it just as 
she was serving Mary, beside me, and immediately a 
fluffy patch of light hair told me why the place was 
called Bottomless at the Topless. Our waitresses black 
net hose terminated at a black lace garter belt, and 
the whole ensemble served to frame the center of 
attraction, her bare twat. When she turned to serve me 
my drink, I boldly put my hand under her skirt and slid 
it along her slit. She gave me a flushed smile and then 
turned away. 

After that, it was hard to concentrate on conversation, 
and it became even more so after Mary squirmed around 
on her chair enough to pull her skirt up into her lap, 
uncovering a tantalizing vee of pink nylon panty, which 
as I watched, her open her legs turned into a two-inch 
band diving between her legs with large amounts of 
black hair sticking out under the elastic leg bands. 
The view was quite private, just for me. And even as we 
chatted about meaningless things, I could see in her 
eyes that she knew my thoughts were on her cunt.

Sue Ann looked at us mischievously and said, "By the 
way, Bob, did I tell you that Mary's older sister, 
Vicky, was my roommate in college?"

The recollection of Sue Ann licking her future 
husband's come out of that same roommate, Vicky, came 
instantly to mind. I looked at Mary with renewed 
interest.

"Oh, yes," said Mary, "Vicky and I are very close. When 
we're at home, we even sleep together." She gave me 
what I took to be a knowing look. "Vicky has taught me 
a lot."

"She sure has," put in Roger, who had been spending his 
time staring at the waitresses and girls at other 
tables.

But before the conversation could go any farther, an 
Italian-looking man wearing a puff sleeved silk shirt 
open to the waist took the floor and called for 
attention.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Bottomless at the 
Topless! For those who have never been here before, let 
me assure you that the management does not forbid the 
staff from fraternizing with the customers." 
(Laughter.) "In fact, fraternization is just what we 
want here. We want everyone to have fun and feel 
perfectly free to follow their fancy -- male or female 
(More laughter.) For our show tonight, we have a 
special treat, something unusual. They call themselves 
the Comedie Sexuale. But I know you'd rather look at 
them than me ... " (Some female voices demurred.) "So 
let's get on with the show!" (Applause.)

There was a little feminine cry of alarm backstage, and 
with a flurry a woman in a large full dress of 
eighteenth century rushed into the stage area. She wore 
an ornate wig and fluttered a fan in front of her 
delightfully décolleté heaving bosom. She conveyed an 
aura of distress very convincingly, and her costume 
deceived me completely. It was some moments before I 
recognized Judy underneath the wig, make-up, beauty 
spot, etc. Helen, of course, I recognized immediately 
as she now followed Judy onto the stage. She, too, was 
in period costume which emphasized the swell of her 
breasts beneath the transparent handkerchief tucked 
into her bodice. Helen began the dialogue with more 
histrionic feeling than I would ever have expected:

"Now, Emily, you've upset dear brother."

"Upset him? Think of how he has upset me!"

"But if he has upset you, it is your fault not his. It 
is wrong of you and cruel to take offense at his 
natural desire to admire your beauty. What are those 
handsome breasts of yours for but to be fondled and 
kissed?"

Emily fluttered her fan in embarrassment.

"Oh, Margaret, how can you say that! You know that a 
proper young lady mustn't let a man do that."

"But why not? You're just being silly, Emily. You're 
repeating old stories they told you in the country. 
This is London. We do things differently here."

Margaret drew close to Emily and placed her arm around 
her bare shoulder.

"Oh! It would never have happened if you hadn't made me 
wear these wicked clothes. I feel all uncovered in this 
dress."

"But that is just the point. It never would have 
happened. I wanted it to happen; that's why I lent you 
my dress. To tell you the truth, Emily, if I go to a 
soiree and some nice gentleman doesn't find an 
opportunity to put his hand on my bosom, not to mention 
beneath my skirts, I am greatly disappointed. Now you 
tell me the truth. Didn't a thrill run through you when 
Alex squeezed your titty?"

Margaret's hand had, by this time, descended so far 
along Emily's bulging chest that it was almost upon her 
nipple hidden under the topmost half inch of cloth.

"Well, maybe a little thrill."

"And wouldn't you really like for him to do it again, 
dear Emily?"

Margaret's words were enticingly soft in Emily's ear, 
and her fingers were now plainly fondling her friend's 
nipple just out of eight of the audience. "Oh, 
Margaret, you always make me feel so naughty when I 
know I shouldn't!"

"Do you remember when we used to sleep together at your 
home and share naughty thoughts?"

"I've tried to forget all that, Margaret. It isn't 
right."

Margaret was now behind Emily with her arms draped 
about her neck fondling both nipples.

"Let me call Alex in so the two of you can make up."

"Oh, no, Margaret! Don't!"

Margaret went back to the curtain.

"Alex! Alex! Do come in here to Emily's room."

Emily moved to one corner and recommenced fluttering 
her fan and heaving her bosom. Then Alex appeared in 
powdered wig and velvet knee breeches. It was Frank.

"Dear Alex, Emily is sorry that she ran off when you 
were merely trying to express your admiration of her 
beauty. I've been very stern with her and told her that 
here in London we pursue pleasure rather than flee it. 
Now, Emily, I think it only proper that you apologize 
to Alex by letting him do as he likes with your 
marvelous breasts."

"No, Margaret, I couldn't!"

"Come, come, Emily. I insist."

Margaret drew the feebly resisting Emily toward her 
brother, and when she was directly in front of him, 
gave her bodice a sudden jerk, causing her big, full 
tits to pop out. While Emily trembled, Alex reached out 
and softly touched the jutting globes. Then he bent his 
head and took a large, succulent nipple into his mouth.

Closer to home, the show was really beginning to get to 
me, and I dropped one arm around Mary's neck and 
beneath her neckline where my fingers found her nipple 
hard and stiff.

"Doesn't Emily have the most delightful nipples, Alex? 
Hard, hot perfect pricks that you just love to suck. 
Bite them a little, Alex; she likes that."

"Ohhhh..."

"That's right, Alex. Doesn't sucking her tits make you 
want to drive your penis into her cunt. I must tell you 
a secret. Emily's cunt is one of the sweetest, most 
delicate things in the world. Suck harder on her 
nipples while I get her ready for you to fuck."

Emily was in a complete swoon and didn't resist as 
Margaret rapidly undid her clothes, leaving only the 
last petticoat.

"Now stop, Alex. I want to talk with Emily."

Alex stopped gobbling Emily's tits and stood back so 
the audience could see the enormous bulge of his 
erection. There were sighs in the darkness, and Mary 
cuddled closer and began massaging the bulge between my 
legs.

"Emily? Tell me, don't you want Alex to stick his prick 
in your cunt?"

"I can't say it, Margaret."

"Yes you can, Emily. Say 'I want to feel Alex's prick 
up my cunt!'"

"No, I can't!"

"Perhaps if you see it you can."

Margaret undid and removed Alex's breeches to uncover 
his giant horn of a penis rooted in a nest of black 
hair with heavy, pendulous balls slung beneath it.

"Now, there's my brother's penis. Isn't it splendid! 
I've had it up my cunt more times than I can count, and 
also deep in my asshole. And he has fucked me in the 
armpit and between my tits so that his come squirted on 
my face. And I've sucked it until it has flooded my 
mouth with hot semen. Surely, Emily, you must want to 
feel such a tool inside you, too!"

Emily had become more wild-eyed with Margaret's every 
word, and now she grabbed Alex's penis.

"Yes! Yes! I want it up me! Stick it up my cunt before 
I die! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

"That's better. But first I must get you ready. You 
must lie on your back the way I place you, and you must 
hold your legs as far apart as possible."

Margaret laid Emily on her back on a table so that her 
feet were to the audience. Then she threw her petticoat 
up and slowly pulled her legs apart, spreading apart 
the red lips of her flax-crowned cunt until it gaped 
open in total readiness. Mary had my prick out, and now 
I slipped my free hand inside her panties and into the 
soupy gash of her ready cunt.

"Now, I will get you both ready."

Margaret bent down and for several seconds licked 
Emily's oozing slit. Then she took Alex's prick in her 
mouth and sucked it for as long.

"And now I want you, my dearest brother, to mount 
Emily, my dearest friend. Go deep into her Alex; let 
her feel the full thrust of your wonderful prick."

Alex stood up to the table and drove into Emily to the 
hilt on the first stroke.

"Wonderful! Fuck her, Alex! Cram her cunt! Isn't it 
heavenly, Emily! Doesn't his prick completely fill you! 
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Margaret kept shouting in rhythm with Alex's massive 
plunges. Then she sat down on a chair which gave her a 
good view of the proceedings, drew up her own skirts 
exposing her dear, sweet, familiar pussy, and began to 
masturbate. Mary was masturbating me, and sounds of sex 
came from the tables around. In the dim light, I could 
see that Sue Ann was holding the head of one of the 
busboys deep in her lap with her skirt drawn up, and 
Roger was occupied with a waitress. 

I took a moment to help Mary out of her dress so she 
had only her panties on and then went back to frigging 
her and fondling her nipples. Alex came off with a 
great charge, and Emily gave a passionate scream When 
he pulled out long and limp, the white ooze showed that 
his climax had been for real. There was a sudden sense 
of hesitation in the room, then Margaret resumed the 
dialogue and brought people back from the brink.

"Magnificent! What a superb fuck! I envy you, Emily. 
Here I am, still unfulfilled, and now Alex can't help 
me." She playfully pulled at his slippery pecker. "What 
we need is refreshment. I'll summon some."

She went out for an instant and reappeared followed by 
Marie dressed as a coquettish maid with almost complete 
décolleté and carrying a tray of wine glasses.

"Here is wine for us along with little Harriet, who is 
equally refreshing. Tell me, Harriet, how do you like 
this gentleman's mighty prick. Doesn't it make your 
little cunt itch?"

"I'm afraid, ma'am, that just now the gentleman's prick 
isn't mighty enough to penetrate even my little cunt. I 
should say, ma'am, by the looks of things, Miss Emily's 
cunt seems to have taken the stiffness out of it. 
Mister Jack Bennet is desiring an audience outside, 
however, and I think he might supply a new stiff prick 
for your games."

"Jack! How wonderful! Now, Emily, you shall have a 
chance at another hard cock in that cunt of yours. Send 
him in."

"Margaret, please send him away. Here I am naked and 
ravished by one man and you wish to open me to 
another."

"Exactly, Emily. The more fucking, the better, but 
maybe Harriet or I will lift the awful burden from you. 
Here he is now. Hello, Jack."

Jack, of course, was Dave.

"Hello, Margaret. How is my darling pussy today."

"Jack, I don't think you have ever met my friend Emily 
under such circumstances. If you will take your eyes 
off her succulent but sated cunt and look at her face, 
however, I am sure you will know her."

"And so I do. Its a pleasure to see you, Emily. Please 
pardon my impolite erection, but your juice-filled slit 
is more than I can bear. Tell me, Margaret, is it all 
right if I ram this beauteous friend of yours?"

"By all means. But there are others to be seen to, as 
well, such as myself and sweet Harriet. Let me arrange 
things so we can all enjoy ourselves."

With that Margaret began stripping as did Jack and 
Harriet, whose dark black twat stood out in distinction 
from Margaret's and Emily's fair ones. Then Harriet 
fell to sucking life back into the prick of the 
recumbent Alex, and Jack slid into her hole from behind 
and began fucking. Margaret and Emily, meanwhile, fell 
together in sixty-nine. Their climax in this tableau 
was the climax of the show, but I couldn't remain a 
voyeur any longer, and only scattered clapping told me 
when it occurred.

I was fully engrossed in kissing and sucking and 
feeling Mary, but I also sensed our waitress at my 
elbow. So I shifted my posture with Mary to include 
her, and each of us, cheek to cheek, started sucking 
one of her nipples. Mary left my prick to the waitress' 
eager fingers and fingered the waitress' cunt instead. 
I continued probing Mary's gash. Soon we were all on 
the soft-carpeted floor, which was a sea of naked 
people. I lost both Mary and the waitress, but I still 
had my hands on a wet cunt on either side while I 
buried my face in another. Someone was sucking my prick 
and penetrating my ass with a finger.

In the constant movement of this sea of sex, I moved 
out of that configuration and closed against the ass of 
a woman on all fours. My prick slid into her cunt from 
the rear with no difficulty. Suddenly Mary reappeared, 
straddling the woman's back, and presenting her cunt to 
me for sucking. It was full of come which I gobbled 
down as she pulled my head hard against her slit. One 
hand was on a tit, the other up someone's ass. 

I stopped fucking my woman and lay back to let Mary 
squat down on my prick. What with it being thoroughly 
greased with saliva and cunt juice, and her gash being 
wet with semen, she could buck up and down on me like a 
mad woman. I pulled and squeezed her small jiggling 
tits brutally as she thrashed about and smeared her 
body with mixed juices from our sexual organs. Then, 
with a tremendous blast, I exploded. 

I must have come close to throwing her off me entirely 
with my great heaves. I think she came, too, but I was 
too ecstatic to notice. After hearing my wife say the 
sexiest things on stage and watching her publicly 
masturbate and then go down on another woman and then 
holding myself back as long as possible in the naked 
pile, my built-up charge was colossal.

Minutes later, still lying on the floor surrounded by 
dazed, naked people, Mary was crying with release, and 
I almost joined her. A few people got up to find their 
clothes, but they were hauled down again by hands 
grabbing at their cunts and cocks. I fucked three more 
women before I rose again from the floor. First I did 
an exotic young redhead who was almost delirious and 
fucked violently, her cunt squeezing my prick as if she 
was continuously coming. Then Sue Ann, who had still 
not had enough after being screwed by four men and 
eaten by Mary, shared a quiet friendly fuck with me. 
And finally I took our lovely waitress in the ass.

Then, finally, it was over, and people were leaving. We 
all dressed, but everyone still kept feeling everyone 
else's organs as we left the room. It was all we could 
do to stop, once we were back upstairs. The ride home 
was a sharp contrast to the one into town. We were all 
fairly silent, but constant low-level fondling activity 
was kept up. 

The girls had put on only their dresses, and I simply 
couldn't keep my hands off their tits and out from 
between their legs. I had no desire left, but the 
friendly camaraderie of sex was still strong. When Sue 
Ann suggested that I wait until the next day to see 
Helen and spend the night with Mary instead, I accepted 
at once.

Roger and I showered, and the girls bathed. We finished 
first and watched them together in the same tub laving 
their lovely bodies and fondly soaping each other's 
cracks. Sue Ann turned her head and sucked my fresh, 
clean cock, and Mary did the same for Roger. To our 
great astonishment, we both felt ourselves growing 
stiff under their tongues, despite the fantastic 
excesses of the orgy we had just participated in.

We all retired to the same large bed and fooled around 
until we were all thoroughly hot again. Then we tried 
something I had read about but wasn't sure could really 
be done. Sue Ann lubricated my prick, and I slid it as 
gently as possible up Mary's tiny, tight asshole. 

At first it hurt her, but as I slowly worked it in and 
out, she responded with more and more passion. Then, 
when the feel of me stuffing her ass was at a peak, she 
spread her legs and let Roger try to go up her cunt. It 
actually was possible. Roger managed to get into her 
all the way to the hilt, and after some awkwardness, he 
got a smooth stroke going. We alternated thrusts so 
that as Roger pulled out of her cunt, I'd ram my cock 
up her ass, and as I pulled back, he'd sock it into her 
cunt. 

To Mary it was excruciatingly delicious. Her ass 
clutched wildly at my cock long before I, in my drained 
condition, was ready to come. We both kept on, and she 
came again and again. Reaching around her, I felt 
Roger's thick, slippery rod sliding in and out of her 
cunt. Then Sue Ann found a way to join in. 

As we were a trio lying on our sides, Roger and I were 
close enough together for Sue Ann to finger our 
assholes at the same time. And her wiggling fingers 
were just what was needed. In seconds Roger and I were 
ready to come and then we did, almost together. Poor 
Mary cried out and came too, for about the fifth time. 
Then, as we both pulled out of her sex holes, she 
fainted, and we had to revive her with cold water. 

Her face was wan above her sweet little breasts, but 
she was happy. She even revived enough to suck off Sue 
Ann, as her sister had so many times before. Roger and 
I sucked at her big hard nipples while Mary ate her 
cunt, and soon she too had had her nightcap Then we all 
slept.


Chapter 7
---------

When I saw Helen the next day it was clear that the 
show was over. Whatever compulsion had been driving her 
from our first naive, hesitant experiences to orgiastic 
heights such as that night at the Black Cat Club had 
finally burnt itself out. She and the others have told 
me in detail about the other three stops their road 
show made, and nothing unpleasant happened at any of 
them. The one at Memphis, in fact, had been a wild 
success. 

Helen and Marie had dressed up as little girls with 
Judy as their mother, and the audience had gone wild 
watching the girls getting their skirts thrown up and 
screwed by Frank and Dave dressed as little boys, whom 
the mother then punished in a predictable fashion. But, 
still, the overall effect of the trip had been 
exhausting, mentally and physically.

I don't mean to say, of course, that I had not been 
acting under a compulsion, too. But as I've mentioned 
before, as Helen's drive became more demonstrative and 
exhibitionistic, my own drifted more toward voyeurism. 
I've seen about all there is to see along sexual lines, 
and felt about all there is to feel, and I don't regret 
it. 

I can't say I've gotten it out of my system, because 
you can't get sex out of your system. It is your 
system. But now that we both know the full physical 
dimension of it, the mystery is gone and with it the 
urge to explore. I think well be like native New 
Yorkers who live in the city for years and never go to 
the top of the Empire State Building. We know what 
we'll see when we go to the top, so why should we go.

Only time, of course, can endorse all of this 
reflection I've been indulging in. Actually, Helen and 
I have done better than that. For two whole weeks now 
we've confined our sex to the normal quota for an 
average married couple, and we've been enjoying it. I 
had forgotten how nice it could be to fuck your own 
wife just once, conventionally and unenergetically, and 
then fall quietly asleep in each other's arms. There's 
no doubt about it: Helen is a damn good lay.

And there are fringe benefits to calling a halt to our 
frantic career, as well. I'm able to concentrate on my 
work better, which is certainly a welcome improvement 
in my boss' eyes, and Helen and I have more time for 
each other. In two weeks we've already turned down 
three dates that would have really turned us on a month 
ago, one of them a monster party by the Ungers. We 
haven't quite gotten down to the pipe and slippers 
before the fire routine, but the idea of it looks more 
attractive now than it ever has before.

I also think Helen has gotten prettier since we 
stopped. It's been a long time since I've seen her in 
blue jeans and an old shirt instead of a transparent 
dress with net panties. She's regaining a natural look 
I haven't seen on her since we used to go sailing with 
our first swapping friends. She looks better without 
make-up.

I will miss our friends, though. I may someday forget 
the precise feel of fucking Marie and Judy and Sue Ann, 
but I'll always remember them as friends -- and their 
husbands, too, of course. And the other people we've 
met swinging have been great, too. Back when I used to 
smuggle sex books into the house and read them on the 
sly, I got the impression that swingers were all tough, 
neurotic, callous people who went in for whips and 
boots and came to a bad end. But I don't think that's 
the case at all. 

Swingers I've known are people like anyone else; they 
simply like sex and don't mind sharing it with others. 
Some have had some pretty bad hang-ups about it, but on 
the whole not as bad as other people I've known who 
bottle their feelings up inside. Inevitably I think we 
will have to drop our swinging friends. It would be 
discouraging for them to have us around when they went 
to have some fun.

Hold everything! A new chapter may have begun. I just 
went out to get a bottle of booze for drinks with a new 
couple from next door that Helen had invited over for 
coffee, and what do I see in the living room when I get 
back? Helen sucking away at an absolutely gorgeous 
blonde cunt while this guy from next door is cramming 
it into her from behind. As soon as I finish this 
sentence, I'm going to get my pants off and go in there 
and find out just how hot and tight that girl's 
slippery little crack is.


Chapter 8
---------

I simply can't believe how differently two people can 
remember the same events. I'm sure Bob never intended 
to show me what he had written, although now that I've 
seen it he claims he had planned to show it to me all 
along. But really I think he let me read it only 
because I got so mad when I finally realized that 
someone had been tampering with my diary. I suppose 
some people write diaries for other people to read, but 
I don't. What goes in my diary is for me only, and I 
don't want even Bob poking into it just because I'm 
away from home for a while.

But after reading what he wrote, the matter of the 
diary takes second place as an issue. We have in fact, 
been arguing about this whole thing for days now. There 
were a few little things I simply didn't know about 
before, such as that little girl from out of town, 
whatever her name was, squirming all around on him in 
an airport parking lot in broad daylight. 

We had always at least tacitly agreed that if we were 
going to swing, we should be discreet about it and not 
do things that might cause some sort of public legal 
problem. We don't, after all, want to be hounded out of 
town by a scandal. And I hardly consider it safe or 
discreet to stick your dick up a minor in public, no 
matter bow hot her cunt is.

But that isn't the main issue either. I've done some 
things he doesn't know about, too, as I'll mention 
later on. The main issue is that he presents a very 
one-sided story, giving only his view of everything. 
That in itself is bad enough when there are a lot of 
people involved, but what I particularly resent is that 
he constantly makes remarks about my feelings and 
reactions which are as biased and one-sided as the 
statements he makes about himself. 

Anyway, the upshot of all our bickering over this is 
that he has agreed to let me add this section to what 
he has written. We know we could never agree on one 
single version of things, so this is my chance to give 
a corrective to some of the things he wrote. Really 
this ought to come at the beginning, at least I think 
so, but since it's dependent on the narrative that he's 
already written, I've agreed to let it sit here at the 
end.

You can think of this as "Helen's Version," then. 
Essentially, I have three points to make, or 
corrections would be a better word. First, I want to 
change the image that good old Bob (I love him; don't 
get me wrong. I'm just pissed off at him for being so 
insensitive to some things. He may have been surprised 
that I was a good actress, but I can't return the 
compliment. There's some pretty juvenile writing in 
parts of his text,) as I say, that good old Bob has 
left of me as a swinger. As I read his stuff, he makes 
me look like some kind of shrinking violet who lived a 
sort of sheltered life until he led me out of it, at 
which time I gradually became more and more of a 
nymphomaniacal, exhibitionistic sex nut. Now, I'm not 
going to dispute his facts; he's at least got them down 
pretty accurately. But his interpretation is something 
else.

I don't see how married couples can live together for 
years and still not really know each other, although as 
far as I can tell this is the case with most couples. 
Even a couple like Frank and Marie, who I think are 
very close to each other, but don't really know each 
other all that well. Frank, not to mention all other 
men, thinks of Marie as a vivacious Latin sexpot who 
likes to swish her little black bun at every man she 
sees in hopes of getting a cream filling for it. But 
actually Marie is quite sensitive and emotional with 
only a flippant exterior. 

Of all the swinging types I know, she's the only one 
who always remembers the faces of the guys she screws 
with and whether they have deep warm eyes and things 
like that. I actually think she falls in love with a 
man the minute he touches her cunt and has an emotional 
as well as a physical experience with him. 

It's that emotional quality that makes men think she's 
so hot and like her so much. But what I originally 
meant to say is that I want to show that I'm not a 
nymphomaniacal, exhibitionistic sex nut but a normal, 
attractive girl who's simply become uninhibited enough 
to genuinely enjoy sex and the additional pleasure that 
comes from knowing that other people are getting sexual 
enjoyment from watching her fuck, or whatever. Somehow, 
I think Bob sensed this kind of freedom in that little 
teenager he screwed in the bosom of her family, but he 
can't see it in me because he's too hung up himself 
about marriage and propriety and so on.

My second point is that Bob himself isn't quite like 
the Bob in the story. In writing he always shows 
himself as basically a voyeur who allows sex to happen 
to him but doesn't bring it on. Naturally, that's a 
hard image to keep up when every episode he writes 
about was at least partly of his own making. The reason 
for this, I think, is that he has some kind of 
unconscious conception of how a good mid-western boy 
(as opposed to a bad mid-western boy who can go to 
playboy clubs and whorehouses) goes about being a 
swinger. He wants to be a swinger with a necktie. The 
deeper his prick is buried in something nice, the 
higher he wants to keep his head above it all. In 
short, the Bob of the story is kind of an anemic ass, 
which isn't fair to Bob in real life, who is as 
forthright and horny a lover as any girl could ask for.

Finally, I want to explain the sudden disinterest in 
sex that Bob says came over me the day after the big 
show in Chicago and lasted for a record two weeks. He 
simply doesn't understand it at all, and I don't think 
he ever will.

There's no point going back over our early experimental 
days in any detail, Bob has included the details. But 
the spirit of the whole thing is absent the way he 
tells it. For him it's all mechanics and sensation, but 
it wasn't like that at all. It was fun, exciting, 
spine-tingling fun, with a lot of very human warmth 
rolled in. When Bob took that very first picture of me 
cuddling with Dave, I didn't just callously pull my 
dress open and clamp his hand over my tit. He was a 
damn good-looking guy, and we were all high and horny. 

When I leaned against him on that couch, I wanted him 
to feel me up and feel me up good, and he wanted to 
feel my tits and kiss me like any normal man would. The 
camera was Bob's prop and excuse, not ours. With or 
without a picture, Dave would have been pinching my 
nipples hard in a few minutes, and I would have been 
feeling for his cock minutes later. Even when I was 
dating and a virgin, I loved to feel a guy's cock and 
take it out and rub it. 

Bob couldn't get this out of my diary, but I have 
always been a "prick girl" like some men are "leg men." 
I was shy with him after we got married because he 
always came on like a prude. I didn't sleep with anyone 
before him, but Id sucked off more than one guy on 
dates. That's the real reason I was so surprised at 
finding that fingering Judy's cunt was fun. I was so 
big on male genitalia that I had never thought about 
women. The smoothness and hardness of a prick go so 
nicely in the mouth, I never imagined that there could 
be equal enjoyment in the hot, wet, odoriferous jungle 
of a girl's crack. I learned.

But Bob missed the atmosphere of that first night, and 
it's too bad. It was all so tender. I remember Dave 
just beginning to finger my slit, and me sliding my 
butt down so he could get more of his hand onto it, 
when Bob finished taking Judy's picture and finally did 
what she had obviously been wanting him to do from the 
moment she entered the house. That glorious twat of 
hers with gleaming red lips showing where she was 
holding her panties aside. He waited to snap a picture 
before he put his mouth on it, but after that it was 
great. Bob's head looked so naturally perfect buried 
between Judy's white thighs licking her. Just watching 
him, made Dave's fingers feel more exciting. Then I 
sucked Dave off, and it went on from there.

Bob doesn't seem to remember that it was the three of 
us that talked him into holding our big orgy. He wanted 
to do it. He wanted to fuck some new girls. But he was 
timid until other people persuaded him. Then he took 
over the organizing. But the way he describes it just 
isn't the way it was. You'd think his damn game was 
everything and that it was just marvelous luck that the 
people we invited were willing to go through with it. 
I'm not saying his game wasn't a good idea. It did draw 
the whole evening out and make it last, But the orgy 
would have gone on without it. 

While he sat around waiting for the right moment to 
start, the rest of us were really underway. Three 
different guys had had their hands inside my panties 
before the game started. I started out dancing slow 
with Frank and let him work his hand to the inside and 
then down on my breast, which of course was bare under 
my dress. He mentioned it and said he'd like to do 
more, and I mentioned the game we were going to have 
later. Then he just went ahead and put his hand under 
my dress, and we kept on dancing with him feeling my 
cunt until the record stopped.

Then I had to go to the kitchen for some more 
refreshments, and while I was standing on a high stool 
to get some clean glasses, the Swedish guy, Bent I 
think his name was, came in. Well, when you're wearing 
a mini-skirt and transparent panties and standing three 
feet above someone else, you can't do much. So I just 
looked down and smiled, and he looked up and smiled and 
put his hand between my legs. After that, the final guy 
who felt me up was the one who left before the game 
started. I really liked him, and we went into the 
bedroom where he was all over me on the bed. I even 
sucked his prick until we heard someone coming. But 
unfortunately, even though he said his wife was always 
willing, she was having her period, so they had to 
leave.

So the whole game bit was nice, but not necessary. That 
way we all got to see each other's bodies and all got 
to feel each other, whereas otherwise we might have 
just drifted off into separate corners, but the ice was 
broken before it began. Bob exaggerates the mechanics 
of the game, too. I think the rest of us remember it as 
a semi-controlled free-for-all. The greatest thing I 
remember was Frank's prick. It really was a giant. Like 
Bob, I was shocked that Marie, who's truly petite, 
could take it up her. 

I was even shocked that I could. Sitting down on top of 
it at that party and feeling it squeeze into me inch by 
inch was surely my greatest sex joy up to that date. I 
felt impaled. It was like a great spike of hot flesh 
that just kept going in and never stopped. In fact, it 
was probably that fuck which opened my eyes to sex as 
much as anything, because for the first time I could 
look around me at all these fascinated eyes and see 
that the harder I forced myself down on Frank's prick 
the faster and deeper moved the fingers of the people 
around me on each other's sexes. 

To me it was the joy of giving joy. I don't think it 
was exhibitionistic. It didn't heighten my sexual 
pleasure so much as my emotional enjoyment. Lustful 
eyes will never take the place of something rubbing 
your clitoris. But I got a kick out of it all the same. 
This is what Bob doesn't appreciate. I think he's just 
too selfish, but I'm sure he'd argue with me about 
that.

Bob is right in saying the following summer was 
idyllic. Those beach and boating parties were 
magnificent. I don't think he says enough about them, 
because nothing novel happened sexwise. Novelty is his 
bag, not mine. 

I remember I'd lie sunning myself on the little beach 
of the island we sailed to, and there would be Bob out 
in the water playing around with Marie or Sue Ann. And 
then, Roger or someone would come up and lie down 
beside me and spread suntan lotion on my back and then 
go on rubbing me all over until his hands were under my 
bra feeling my tits and then under my bikini bottoms, 
diddling my slit, which by this time would be all 
creamy. 

Sooner or later, Bob would come by with whomever he'd 
been in the water with, and there I'd be with my legs 
spread wide, holding onto the head in my crotch and 
getting eaten out magnificently. And usually Bob would 
fall down right there beside us and fuck the girl he 
was with. What with the sun and the couple fucking next 
to me and the orgasm, it was really great.

And while I'm at it, I should correct a factual mistake 
he made. It was there on the island and not at the 
Ungers' party that I got fucked in the ass for the 
first time. He didn't even know about it. It happened 
in the lake actually. Dave had asked me to let him do 
it before, but I had refused because I was afraid it 
would hurt. He decided to try it anyway, though, and 
without my knowing it he greased his prick before we 
went for a dip. Then we got out there in the water and 
as usual started messing around. 

It's pretty hard to get worked up a whole lot in the 
water, but Dave took my bra off and sucked hard on my 
nipples, which are supersensitive. Then he got a hand 
in my crotch, and before too long I was really feeling 
it. He stood on the bottom, holding me facing him, 
working like mad on my tits and cunt, and I was going 
out of my mind and creaming up like mad in my slit. In 
getting my pants off he got me turned around and held 
me to him with one hand across my tits and the other 
still in my crack. 

With the water buoying me up, I could just nestle 
against him, but I was too steamed up to just cuddle. 
When I felt the soft round tip of his cock start to 
probe at my ass, I wanted it more than anything. I 
squirmed around until it was located right, and then I 
just let myself sink down on it. I don't know which I 
felt more, the pain of the intrusion or the almost 
unconscious pleasure of being penetrated; but after he 
was all the way in and had tried a couple of tentative 
withdrawals and replacements, the latter feeling 
totally overcame me. 

Suddenly being penetrated and stuffed up my ass was the 
greatest thing in the world. My cunt was making juice 
at a record rate, despite the water, and Dave kept his 
fingers going on my nipples and clit. We got going so 
hard and fast I was almost screaming. It hurt, but the 
screams would have been for the sheer pleasure each 
thrust in the ass give me. I could tell that he had 
come only by his prick growing smaller, but I had come 
earlier so it didn't matter much.

I don't know exactly why I didn't tell Bob about that 
incident. I guess I thought it might shock him somehow. 
I'm sure he was mystified when I wouldn't let him go in 
from behind that night the way he liked to, but I still 
hurt. Actually, great as it had been, I didn't try it 
again until I had to at the Ungers' party. There it 
didn't hurt nearly so much, perhaps because that black 
guy had a thinner prick than Dave. It also didn't 
bother me that night when Bob was watching. 

In fact, I hardly noticed Bob at that party at all. I 
was pretty accustomed by then to making it with Dave, 
Roger, and Frank, but getting felt up openly and 
blatantly by a lot of new men was distracting. Bob says 
that the girls didn't try to keep their legs together, 
but that's an understatement. When every man you're 
introduced to says hello by putting his hand on your 
tit or slipping it into your crotch, and when all 
around you girls are handling pricks and letting men 
feel them up, keeping your legs together is the last 
thing you want to do. You want to make a beeline for a 
couch, sit down, and as gracefully as possible, let the 
boys see what you've got.

To go on to some of the other things Bob says, though, 
let me talk about wife swapping with couples out of 
town. Besides the trip he made without me and the 
groovy time at the resort, he mainly tells about our 
first fling. And to hear him tell it, he was shocked at 
the forwardness of the other couple in the cocktail 
lounge. What he leaves out, however, is some of the 
other incidents where he wasn't such a passive 
shrinking violet. With the Merriams in Dayton, for 
example, he started the whole thing by composing this 
letter (If he can take my diary out of my bureau, I can 
look at the letters in his desk):

     Dear Cindy, September 12

     Thanks for the invitation to stay with you. I 
     have business in Dayton on the 28th, so we'll
     come the evening of the 27th. Don't meet us at 
     the airport. 

     After looking at all those closeups of you 
     sucking off Bill and playing with your beautiful, 
     beautiful slit, I'm afraid I'd get a big, 
     embarrassing erection right there in the terminal
     and have to fuck you in a telephone booth before
     we could leave.

     Looking forward lustfully,
                       Bob

Well, when we got there, we rented a car and drove out 
to this great country place of the Merriams. We talked 
and got to know each other, and had a few drinks. Then 
Bill suggested a dip in the pool, and we all changed. 
Their pool was in a large backyard, and even though the 
lots in the development were large, it didn't take 
binoculars to see what was happening at the pool next 
door -- and vice versa. Nothing much was happening 
there, just three or four people lounging around and 
swimming, but blushing Bob sure made things happen at 
our pool.

Cindy was wearing an almost-nothing, red polka dot 
bikini, and it was a wonder every time she went off the 
board that she didn't pop right out of the bra. Bob 
kept feeling her up in the water, which didn't bother 
me. I didn't hesitate to check out the bulge inside 
Bill's suit underwater either. But then Bob followed 
her up on the board, where they could be seen in the 
whole county, and started to feel her up from behind. 

I was nervous because of the people next door, but 
Cindy liked it and ground her ass back against him. He 
got her bra off and put both hands inside her pants. 
Pretty soon he had her bottom off and was fingering 
away beneath her golden muff, and by God if he didn't 
make her lean over so he could slip it up her. Right 
there on the diving board! He fucked her! And he calls 
me an exhibitionist.

Of course, I felt that whatever harm was done was done, 
and I didn't want to be packed off to jail still horny. 
So I turned to old Bill, who already had his suit off 
and a huge cockstand, and sucked him and licked him and 
squeezed his prick in my throat until he came off with 
a great big load. And the people next door never gave a 
sign of noticing anything.

There was a joker in the deck I didn't find out about 
until later that night, however. Cindy and Bill threw a 
small pool party for us, quite fancy with good drinks 
and flowers floating in the pool, and who should come 
but the next-door neighbors on either side. This little 
subdivision, it seems, was so sexy that nobody tried to 
hide anything. But still, Bob didn't know that when he 
poked his cock up Mrs. Merriam's cunt on the diving 
board. So that proves that he has a lot more balls in 
fact than in his fiction.

The pool party itself was delightful. There was a 
certain amount of flirting and coquetry, but not as 
much as I'd seen at other parties. Of the four girls 
there beside Cindy and myself, I was still in the dark 
about the color of pubic hair of two of them after an 
hour and a half. The other two had managed to be 
"unladylike" or "indiscreet" in sitting down, however. 

All that changed at eleven o'clock, apparently the 
witching hour in that comer of suburbia. Everyone shed 
their clothes, or helped someone else shed theirs -- 
two fellows were most attentive at helping me out of 
mine, particularly out of my bra and panties -- and 
jumped in the pool. We were all like a bunch of kittens 
playing around in the water. Yet the effect of pool 
lights on naked bodies was not without its benefits and 
soon everyone was more or less paired off.

Some headed for the shadows. Others didn't. A girl with 
jet black hair, both above and below, sat at the side 
of the pool leaning back on her arms while Bill sucked 
her cunt. Another couple reversed it with the guy on 
the edge getting eaten by Cindy in the water. My own 
partner, named Al, took me to a lounge chair where he 
laid me down and slid the most elegantly long, curved 
cock about a mile deep inside me. He was a most 
accomplished fucker, smooth and easy but with a 
controlled fire that raged red hot at the end.

Then we danced, cooled off and naked, holding each 
other close and swaying to the music. Someone else cut 
in, and the feel of his prick hard against my stomach 
began to warm me up again. A male body closed in behind 
me to make us a trio. His prick between my legs 
touching the lips of my crack and reawakening them. I 
was vaguely aware of a haughty-looking blonde with a 
brown-haired cunt engaged with Bob in sixty-nine on a 
couch. 

Then, a minute later, I realized she was heading my 
way. Looking slightly down at me with a sardonic, 
hollow-cheeked look, she made a move to cut in. The 
fellow I was with let her. The bulge of her breasts was 
warm and soft against my own. Her bush pressed against 
my own rather protuberant mound. She had a masterful 
attitude, but she was warm nevertheless, and I blended 
my body against hers. Then she kissed me. 

I responded, and opening my mouth, received in it not 
her tongue but the hot thick semen that she had just 
sucked from Bob's prick and hadn't swallowed. At 
another moment I might have been revolted, but just 
then it was as exciting as a lightning bolt. We moved 
the semen back and forth between our mouths as we moved 
our hands now back and forth along each others wet 
slits. She maneuvered me to a chair, which I sank into. 

She looked down at me with the same sardonic look, 
threw a long leg across the chair and slowly lowered 
her cunt to my face. I buried my nose and mouth in it 
sucking furiously. I felt my legs pulled apart father 
and then the delicate stroke of a female tongue 
tingling my clitoris. She just teased me for a couple 
of minutes before going at my cunt with all her vigor, 
reaching back under her to toy with my tits as I was 
pulling hers hanging above my stomach. We both came in 
super face-clutching orgasms, after which, the rest of 
the evening was truly anti-climactic.


Chapter 9
---------

That little story was intended to show that Bob doesn't 
show himself as he really is. He can be aggressive and 
isn't just a passive voyeur, always seduced never 
seducing. But I don't want to overdo the correction of 
viewpoint. There is something of the voyeur in his 
make-up just as there is some exhibitionist tendency in 
me, although not as much as he makes out. 

To a certain extent the two are complementary. I don't 
know if he has ever watched me screwing in order to 
make me enjoy it more, which I don't think it would 
since unknown or slightly known onlookers are more 
likely to turn me on. I do know that on occasion I have 
done things in a showy way for him to watch. What he 
wrote about a husband being excited by the possessing 
of his wife by another man he told me before our trip 
to the resort. 

My initial impetus to take money for fucking and to 
literally prostitute myself was in hopes of increasing 
this thrill for him. And, in fact, I think it did. The 
fuck he gave me after I told him about it in detail was 
wildly passionate. But he is also right in saying that 
I got a thrill out of taking the money. I've never done 
it since and never will, at least not in such a blatant 
way, but that one experience was terrific. I actually 
had the money clutched in my hand while be was ramming 
it up me, and appropriately, I've now forgotten his 
name.

I did learn a very important lesson at that resort, 
though. Before that, as I said, I knew how to savor the 
delight of making other people horny by fucking in 
front of them. I had even figured out what postures 
gave people the best view of a prick going into my cunt 
or whatever. But until I sold the right to stick a cock 
up me, I never realized that the monetary aspect can 
turn people on as well. 

Buying something that cannot be legally bought and 
enjoying it clandestinely contributes a thrill of 
secrecy and illegality to sex. Hiring a run-of-the-mill 
prostitute might be just a way to get a lay, but high-
priced, high-class girls in a respectable resort hotel, 
particularly in the situation of a late-night swimming 
pool orgy, are something else, something more exciting 
somehow than the same orgy would be in the backyard 
pool with neighborhood friends a la the Merriams.

And the conclusion I drew from that lesson plus my 
earlier discoveries was that participating in a paid 
sex show of some kind must he the biggest kick of all. 
I was sure I could never convey all this to Bob. I 
didn't try. Instead I talked it over with first Dave 
and Judy and then Frank and Marie, all of whom are less 
hung up about sex than Bob. They all sympathized with 
me one way or another, Sue Ann and Roger didn't. The 
upshot, of course, was our traveling sex show, but that 
wasn't the only result.

We worked on various skits involving the five of us for 
quite some time. All of us tried our hand at writing 
and directing, or shall I say choreographing. It was 
harder than we had first thought. Moreover, the three 
acts that came out of it, our "repertoire", were not 
our best ideas. But they were the only ideas that 
proved both endurable -- that is to say nobody was 
forced to fuck more than they normally could -- and 
visible to a seated audience. We thought of audience 
participation and close-in viewing but rejected it as 
too uncontrollable. Still, we didn't just junk our 
other efforts. 

Roger wouldn't participate, but he did agree to put his 
not-inconsiderable cinematic skill at our disposal to 
film some of what we couldn't do live. Of course, we 
made Roger and Sue Ann promise not to tell Bob until 
after he'd seen the real show. Therefore, he didn't 
know about the films until after he had written his 
last chapter, since then, he's seen them and has 
praised their aesthetic and sexy qualities. 

Nevertheless, he doesn't see any way in which they 
change things, even though to me they clearly 
demonstrate the difference I'm trying to show between 
the manic exhibitionism he ascribes to me and the joy-
giving, loving exhibitionism I'm willing to admit to. 
He doesn't see that, if you fuck in front of a camera, 
there's no audience feedback. You don't feel hot eyes 
on you. You aren't performing for the camera crew, 
certainly not for Roger, who had already seen it all. 
It's the intuitive joy of giving unknown people a 
retreat into sex, someplace to slip into away from the 
troubles of life and simply immerse themselves in sex, 
that is important. Bob's notion of exhibitionism is 
selfish and taking, mine is open and giving.

Our first film was about camping: It was silent because 
we didn't have any sound recorder. A couple, Frank and 
I, are going camping. They pick up a teenage 
hitchhiker, Judy, and persuade her to join them. They 
camp and are shortly joined by another unknown couple 
who pitch a tent alongside them. (We picked a gorgeous 
camping spot on some land owned by the Ungers where no 
real campers are allowed.) 

The five people get to know each other and are shown 
doing camping things and recreational things, in the 
course of which, revealing shots of the girls are 
taken. All three girls are caught changing to swimming 
suits or something like that by the men who thus see 
their breasts, and the camera shows the girls looking 
at the bulges of their erections.

Next there is an improvised shower stall surrounded by 
a few beach towels. The three girls take turns 
showering and keeping the shower bucket above the stall 
filled. The camera on the inside of the stall shows all 
three girls naked. They soap each other, particularly 
between the legs. The men outside are shown with stiff 
swimming trunks catching glimpses of the action through 
gaps in the screen. Then comes an episode with Dave 
alone with me in the woods. He takes me in his arms and 
we go through a long bit undressing each other and 
kissing. I suck his penis, and then he fucks me.

Thereafter follow shorter bits alternating between 
Frank and Dave, showing each of them screwing each of 
the girls. The takes get shorter and emphasize more and 
more the actual cock in the cunt and the spurt of 
orgasm. Then come two different trio bits. I surprise 
Frank with Marie, join them and wind up eating her out 
while Frank goes up my ass. Dave eats me, kneeling over 
his face, while Judy slides up and down on his prick 
and pulls at my nipples. Then Judy and Marie at sixty-
nine real close so you can see tongues really getting 
between the cunt lips. All at a faster tempo with more 
closeups and climaxes. 

Next, I'm athwart the gunwales of a canoe. Dave is 
fucking me from the rear, and I'm sucking Frank leaning 
back on the bow. That scene was a bit tricky. And 
finally there's a five-way match. Frank and Judy are 
naked, sitting on the edge of a wall, kissing and 
hugging. I'm standing in front of Frank sucking his 
prick, and Marie is beside me eating out Judy and 
feeling my tits. At the rear, Dave sticks his dick 
first up Marie and then up me. Then the campers are 
seen driving away, leaving Judy by the side of the 
road, and it's over.

Now I won't say that was a very innovative screenplay, 
or even that it was especially well done. Still, it was 
artfully photographed and had the desired effect. When 
we've shown it to swinging friends, it's always touched 
off a great orgy. Usually I feel a hand working around 
my cunt before the first real bit is over, and I always 
have a head between my legs by the time the canoe shots 
are through. Besides, it was a beginner's film. We 
learned a lot. On our next one, we even used titles 
with dialogue framed with flowery borders and couched 
completely in the patois of Victorian pornographers. 

The plot is only slightly better, but it's covered up 
by the use of Victorian costumes and exaggerated 
theatrical manners. There is a lascivious male, 
Roderect, and his equally bawdy girlfriend, Titty. They 
wish to marry, but Roderect cannot do so until his 
older sister, the innocent Virginia, is wed. Titty has 
a brother, Timidy, who sighs for Virginia but will do 
no more. Dolly is a girlfriend of both Titty and 
Virginia. The plan is to seduce Timidy and Virginia 
into making love after which they will have to get 
married.

As it starts, Roderect and Titty are sitting on a couch 
talking animatedly. Roderect keeps slipping his hand 
between the buttons of her blouse, and she keeps 
slapping them away playfully. Still he gradually gets a 
few buttons undone and we can see the nipple of one 
breast.

Titty: "Please desist, my dearest loved one. We must 
find a way to make my shy brother, Timidy, marry your 
maiden sister, Virginia, so that we, too, might wed."

Titty looks innocently blank, obviously trying to 
think, while Roderect frees her other breast and begins 
licking her nipples and toying with them with his lips.

Roderect: "What is your plan my beloved?"

Titty stands and buttons up. Roderect's arms are 
beneath her long skirt in the back. We can see a 
profile of stockinged legs rising to fancy garters.

Titty: "Well raise each to a passion by describing 
their intended's charms. Then well inveigle them into 
spying on us embracing that they might get the idea."

A shot of the proposed interview between Roderect and 
Virginia shows Virginia pacing the room nervously, 
fluttering a fan, panting, and showing intense 
embarrassment. She even covers her ears, but not 
completely.

Roderect: "Why so flustered, dear sister, when I 
describe Timidy, who loves you, as having a noble 
engine of love. Truly you will swoon when you see it. 
Limp, it is sweet, soft delicacy to tempt the lips of 
fairest maid. Erect, it is a valiant soldier ready for 
whatever service you desire."

Roderect leaves the room. Virginia collapses to a sofa, 
her hand to her brow. She puts her other hand to her 
beating breast, and as she calms, tentatively begins to 
rub it. Her other hand is now discovered pressing 
against her lower abdomen and then rubbing lower still. 
A cut to Titty and Timidy finds sister pressing against 
his back and whispering in his ear while he tries to 
lose himself in a book.

Titty: "But Virginia is just waiting for you, sweet 
brother. Will you ignore those snowy mounds capped by 
sweetest cherries longing to be tasted. Will you not 
plumb her dewy pink lovenest and run your fingers 
through the golden silk that crests it, part those soft 
and pliant lips that hide her dearest treasure."

Titty keeps on talking and rubbing her body more and 
more sensuously against her brother's back. Finally she 
peeps around his body, spies the tent made by his stiff 
penis and retreats from the room with a knowing smile. 
Timidity puts his book down and gazes abstractly 
through the window as if unaware that his right hand is 
unloosing his cock from his pants. Another cut finds 
Virginia reading in a chair. She perks up and puts a 
hand to her ear.

Roderect: "Come, delectable Titty, let us seize a 
moment of love in the deserted parlor where no one can 
see us."

Virginia hides behind a Japanese screen just as the two 
enter. Taking Titty on his knee, Roderect immediately 
undoes her bodice and fondles her tits. Virginia looks 
away in alarm and then looks back. Roderect is dandling 
Titty's tits and pinching her nipples while she undoes 
his fly. She strokes his prick lovingly.

Roderect: "What delightful love apples these are, 
Titty."

Titty: "And what a splendid marble pillar is this with 
its capital of ruby quartz."

Roderect lifts Titty's skirts to her waist, and she 
opens her legs to show a pretty brown cunt. Roderect 
feels it and runs two fingers into it. Then she lays 
back on the sofa, and he gets on her, making sure his 
sister gets a good view of his prick going into her. 
They fuck, and Virginia is frequently shown with 
expressions blending horror, embarrassment, and intense 
excitement. Roderect ejaculates very obviously.

Titty: "I die! I faint! I expire!"

Roderect: "I come! Fuck! Cunt! Fuck!"

In the next scene, Timidy, like Virginia, is quietly 
reading when he gives signs of hearing something. In 
the next room, behind a partially open door, are 
Roderect and Titty.

Titty: "Be silent, my dear one, or my brother will hear 
us and spy on us."

Drawn by this, Timidy tiptoes to the door, peeps around 
it, recoils melodramatically, and then looks again. The 
camera switches to what he is seeing. Titty is sitting 
slouched on a chaise lounge, her bodice undone and her 
delightful breasts uncovered. Roderect is at her feet 
sneaking her skirt higher and higher against her 
pretended remonstrances. As more and more leg shows, 
Timidy's interest is shown to increase. Her dark 
stockings end at mid-thigh garters, and the white skin 
above them looks soft and inviting.

Roderect: "Don't hide your sweet honey pot from me, 
dearest one!"

Titty: "Oh, you are so forward! I blush!"

Finally, the last few inches are achieved. Little by 
little we are given a full view of Titty's cunt, the 
camera zooming in on it as Roderect pries her legs 
open. The lips are swollen, moist-looking and slightly 
parted. Roderect goes into rapture at the sight; Timidy 
is equally enthralled but not as demonstrative. Then 
Roderect buries his face in Titty's muff and starts to 
eat her out. He proceeds, and Titty writhes in pleasure 
to which she adds by fiddling with her nipples. Then 
her legs spread to the utmost, she comes with a great 
paroxysm.

Titty: "Oh! I succumb! I swoon!"

Roderect: "How sweetly your amorous ointment pearls 
from your crimson grotto." (How Roderect manages to say 
this with his mouth full of cunt is left up in the 
air.)

The two lovers are shown again conversing, but this 
time in a state of dejection. Pert, black-haired Polly 
comes up all cheery and obviously inquires about their 
glumness. She sits between them, and they tell her, not 
without both of them laying expressive hands on her 
thighs, shoulders, and bosom.

Titty: "Alas, I have done all in my power to make my 
brother seduce sweet Virginia, and to no avail."

Roderect: "And I the same with my sister. Perhaps, dear 
Polly, as you are friend of them both, you might lend 
your sweet persuasions to the effort of seduction."

Polly: "But of course. I'll go now and approach them."

Polly gives Roderect a fervent kiss to which he adds 
roving hands and then gives an equally fervent kiss to 
Titty. Next we see her talking in intimate fashion with 
Virginia.

Virginia: "But how can my dear brother wish upon me the 
affections of a man I barely know, when it was his 
virile staff that I saw in action plumbing the depths 
of Titty's canyon. I confess that, despite his being my 
brother, it is his throbbing pillar I wish to feel 
between my thighs, not Timidy's."

Polly looks the wiser and, parting from Virginia, joins 
Timidy in conversation. At first Timidy is restrained 
and holds back, but finally he comes through with a 
passionate confession.

Timidy: "Know then, charming Polly, and keep close my 
secret, that when my dear sister pressed upon me the 
consideration of Virginia's charms, it was not her 
enticing words that brought my rod up but the feel of 
her soft globes rubbing against me. Moreover, seeing 
Roderect tasting her love dew inspired in me the desire 
to take his place rather than to imitate him with his 
sister. Alas, I am hopelessly captivated by my own 
sister's charms."

Polly: "Perhaps, as both you and Virginia suffer from 
the same affliction of the heart, I can act to gain for 
everyone the ends they desire."

Next Polly is seen conversing with Roderect alone, but 
not apparently telling him about the new turn of 
events. Gradually they talk less and dally more until 
Roderect has undone Polly's bodice and is massaging her 
tits, and she has released once again his hard prick. 
Then, quickly, they disrobe each other and after 
embracing fall to sucking each other off. Polly is on 
top, her cunt covering Roderect's face and blocking any 
sight of Virginia who now enters and rapidly, but 
artfully, strips. Suddenly he senses that the mouth on 
his cock has changed, but still he cannot see. He 
gropes beside him and feels a body which he quickly 
ascertains is feminine by feeling the cunt. 

Then Polly comes, or at least pretends to, and rises to 
reveal to Roderect that the girl sucking him off, in 
whose slit his fingers are buried, is none other than 
his sister. He sits up in shock and grabs her, but then 
tenderly draws her to him in a more than brotherly 
embrace. This, in turn, leads to an amorous fuck with 
Virginia astride him, gazing down into his eyes as she 
slides up and down his glistening cock. Polly stands by 
kissing Virginia's tits and feeling Roderect's slick 
prick as it slips out of her. The brother and sister 
return equal caresses until all climax.

Virginia: "Oh, brother! I am consumed! Your spunk burns 
my inside! Thrust deeper! Fill me with fraternal jizm!"

Roderect: "I spend, dear sister! Your darling, sisterly 
sweetbox grabs at my member! Oh! Sister fuck! Sister 
cunt!"

Then once again we see Polly, not unexpectedly talking 
with Titty. Their talk is obviously spicy, and before 
long their hands are beneath each other's skirts. They 
pull each other's skirts up high, and with fiery eyes 
they masturbate one another. Before long they are naked 
and grinding their pussies together. Titty lays back on 
the sofa, and Polly sits back pulling her girlfriend's 
legs far apart to admire her parted cuntlips. 

Behind Polly, unseen by Titty, Timidy approaches on 
tiptoes, his eight inch erection curving up to his 
belly button before him. Titty is waiting for the first 
touch of Polly's tongue on her clitoris, but instead 
Timidy is upon her and thrust full deep in her cunt. 
She cries out. Then she relaxes. They fuck vigorously, 
and as they do, Virginia and Roderect enter, still 
naked. The two of them join Polly as bystanders, 
shouting encouragement and handling each other's sex 
organs.

Polly: "Fuck her, Timidy! Drive to the hilt! Fill your 
dear sister's cunny with your hot spunk!"

Roderect: "Answer him thrust for thrust, fair Titty! 
Close your silken purse on his fiery charger and 
squeeze it as you do mine! Fuck!"

Virginia: "Oh, Timidy, fuck her hard! Empty your 
ballocks into her sugary nest! Only now do I see how 
delectable your manly spear can be!"

Titty and Timidy together: "I come! I die! I expire! I 
spend!"

With that, the brother and sister pair separate, and 
the five naked people cluster together amorously. All 
kiss and fondle. Then they divide again. Virginia and 
Titty kneel, facing each other. Timidy enters Virginia 
from the rear, and Roderect does the same to Titty. 
Polly lies on her back and slides herself beneath the 
heads of the two-girls. The fit is perfect. Virginia 
sucks Polly's cunt while being fucked by Timidy, and 
Polly and Titty suck each others nipples while Titty is 
being fucked by Roderect. This scene fades out before 
climax, replaced by the caption:

They came. They married. They lived happily ever after.

This second film was in every way more successful than 
the first. Not only was it better plotted, better 
photographed and somewhat funny, but it was more 
erotic. Recently we showed it to our new next-door 
neighbors, whom we have gotten to know fairly well, to 
say the least. 

All of the actors were at the party, but what with the 
costumes, Ellen and Harry didn't recognize at first who 
was in it. It dawned on Harry only when the film was 
really getting hot that he was sitting between Virginia 
and me, at that moment fucking in a closeup on the 
screen with Roderect, and Polly and Marie, at that 
moment being eaten out in the film. And when it did 
dawn on him, he hardly knew what to do he was so hot. 
He had been casually stroking my pussy before that, not 
even inside my panties. But now he seemed to go wild. 
He grabbed at both my dress and Marie's and practically 
tore our clothes off. 

Then he was sucking our cunts alternately and grabbing 
at our tits. And finally, he couldn't satisfy himself 
with only one of us so he made Marie lie on top of me 
in a semi-recumbent position so that, half kneeling in 
front of the couch, he could stick his prick first up 
Marie's crack from behind and then drop a few inches 
lower and stick it up mine. 

It was a noble effort, but it didn't work. In the end 
he had to settle for fucking me first and then Maria 
and then Judy. Since this meant he was monopolizing 
three of the four girls, dainty blonde Ellen took on 
the enviable chore of receiving Bob's, Frank's, and 
Dave's orgasm's one after the other. And on top of 
that, insatiable Harry insisted on doing sixty-nine 
with his wife so that she could lick three different 
cunt juices from his cock, and he could suck three 
deposits of semen from her oozing twat.

But all of this is really getting away from what I want 
to say. It was great to make a picture that excited 
people so, but it was just as great a feeling when I 
wasn't actually at the showing. Just the thought of 
people turning on at the sight of my cunt covered with 
wet hairs matted with juice and semen and being plumbed 
by a thick hard prick was enough.

We made a third movie, but it wasn't as successful as 
the second. We decided to try a classic teen-age orgy 
scene with three girls and two boys in one automobile. 
The trouble was that it was too hard to film in any 
kind of explicit detail, and this was disappointing 
because we had tremendous fun doing it. It made me feel 
like I was in high school again, but this time, instead 
of being comparatively conservative, I was way ahead of 
my time. 

In the cramped space I couldn't actually fuck 
satisfactorily, but I was absolutely surrounded, by 
hands reaching under my skirt and inside my sweater, 
feeling my tits and cunt, sucking my nipples, and so 
on. And I had ready access to pricks and cunts and 
breasts to suck and feel. It was really a gas. I only 
wish I could have done it at fifteen when all those 
things were still forbidden and untried.

From the movies we went on to live performances. Three 
skits were feasible for audiences, and we tried one at 
each of our engagements. Or perhaps we had four 
engagements. The whole thing has become rather hazy in 
my memory. I do remember the last show pretty well 
because I wrote it, and I liked the period costumes we 
got to wear. I also remember Roger and Sue Ann there 
with Bob and his date. 

Afterward, when we were all sitting around at Dave and 
Judy's house recuperating, not just from the show but 
from the whole trip, which was much more exhausting 
than we had anticipated, I recall wondering what kind 
of time Bob had had after the show, whether he had 
joined in a big free-for-all. On an earlier occasion we 
had stayed to join the audience in an orgy, but it was 
too much to take. Not only were we worn out from the 
performance, but every man in the audience wanted to 
dip his wick in the actresses' cunts.

It was the next day when I went home and rejoined Bob 
after our long separation that we began our two-week 
moratorium on sex which Bob makes so much of. Now a 
good part of that moratorium, from my side at least, 
was a combination of exhaustion; physical, mental, and 
sexual, and satisfaction with just being back with Bob 
again. 

After all, we had never been separated for such a long 
time before, and for all his faults and hang-ups, I do 
love him, and I do like to fuck with him. But there was 
more to the moratorium than that; or perhaps it would 
be better to say that the moratorium induced by those 
two considerations gave me a long time to reflect and 
consider what all we had done since we first set about 
swinging and what it might all come to.

I'll certainly confess that I had a lot of thinking to 
do. Bob did, too, but I don't think he knew it. I think 
he still doesn't know it. For one thing, I had thought 
several times of divorcing him. Now that's a franker 
statement than any pseudo-philosophical crap you'll get 
from him. It occurred to me to divorce him because I 
didn't need him as a sex partner and was pretty much 
decided against having children, and also because he 
wasn't even the best lay I knew. 

He's good, but Frank is bigger and can go deeper and 
harder, both fore and aft. Dave is more tender. The guy 
named Al, who fucked me at the Merriams' pool party, 
had a much more aesthetic cock and sophisticated 
stroke. In retrospect, Al may have been the most 
skillful fucker ever to get inside me.

Furthermore, I thought of divorcing Bob because, it's 
funny to say, he's so hung up about sex. I know I've 
tried to redeem his character somewhat in what I've 
written above. I really do think he presents a much 
worse picture of himself than he merits. But still, 
he's a lot more hung up about sex than most of the 
other male swingers I know. I always feel I have to 
humor him and play up to his insecurity, and I get 
tired of it.

But besides thinking about divorce, which had actually 
been in the back of my mind when I determined to go on 
the trip, for that would let me know what a temporary 
estrangement felt like, I had something else to think 
about. First, I had gone about as far as I could go, 
short of becoming a prostitute or a professional sex-
film star, that is. 

Beyond this, my amateur standing was a danger. Did I 
want to stop now before I really did something 
irrevocable? That was one consideration. Another was 
that I was going to age, inevitably, and become less 
attractive as a sex partner. I had seen my share of 
matronly swingers, and I knew they were borne as a 
burden by the younger, more attractive members of any 
group. Did I want to put all my eggs in the sex basket 
only to find the basket falling apart in my hands? And 
finally, I was fully aware of the satiety effect.

I'm really in love, I think, with Bob, Dave, Frank and 
Roger. Each of them has fucked me and sucked me and 
buggered me, I don't know how many times. And I'm 
equally fond of Marie, Judy, and Sue Ann, the exact 
odor and taste of whose cunts I can summon to mind at a 
moment's notice. But unquestionably I am tired of all 
of them. It just isn't possible to continually find new 
and exciting strangers to make it with. And if you try, 
you eventually lose your taste for sex in general. Did 
I want to emphasize only that part of my life that was 
most liable to become stale and boring?

As I thought it over, all three of these last 
considerations became part of one big question: to stop 
now or to go on? And to that was added the question: if 
I go on, do I go on with Bob? It's hardly surprising, I 
think, that it took me two full weeks to think about 
these questions. I didn't think about them constantly, 
of course, but I kept turning them over in my mind. The 
obvious answer that kept coming up was that stopping 
now was the only realistic alternative. But always 
weighed against this was the gutsy feeling, or should I 
say the cunt feeling, that I like sex more than 
anything, and I simply don't want to stop.

Well, I know you're panting to know my answer to these 
questions. I'm afraid it will be unsatisfactory, 
though. I know Bob thinks it is. He doesn't understand. 
The fact of the matter is that, at the end of the two 
weeks, I came finally to the confident realization that 
the questions I was asking myself were not really 
inherent in the situation. I was not, in fact, being 
compelled to do anything. The mental pressure of the 
whole thing was just that, mental pressure. 

Why on earth couldn't I live with Bob, whom I loved, 
make love with whomever I wanted, whenever and as often 
as I wanted, and as time went on, simply do or abstain 
as my desire dictated. All I had been feeling was 
guilt, good old American sex guilt, rationalized and 
compartmentalized to the extent that I couldn't see it 
for what it was. And the realization that all my 
worries were just guilt suddenly made them fall from 
me. 

Ever since then, I've felt pure of heart about sex. I'm 
not saintly, mind you. I still get pissed off when Bob 
can't understand what I'm talking about. But basically, 
I have reached the free and open frame of mind I had 
always thought I had, but had really only approximated.

I think the final certainty of all this hit me about an 
hour before Harry and Ellen were to come over for 
coffee. I just glowed with the thrill of the thought. 
When it was time for them to come, I sent Bob on an 
errand so I could meet them alone. They were both 
beautiful people, and I frankly wanted to make it with 
them, if they were willing. 

I took off my bra and left my blouse unbuttoned with 
the shirttails tied at the waist. My shorts were half 
unzipped at the side, and my panties were off. They 
came in the door, and I put my arms around Harry and 
gave him my deepest, most loving kiss which I finished 
off by feeling his prick with both hands. Then I turned 
to cute little Ellen, who looked dumfounded, and gave 
her a similar kiss. I reached under her skirt and put 
my hand on her pussy inside her panties. It creamed up 
immediately. 

I separated from them, stripped in two seconds, and 
said simply, "I want to make love." And then we were 
lost in love, and you know, I can't remember which of 
them was licking my gushing slit when Bob came home...

The End

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 49