Sharon Lawrence stood in front of the full-length bedroom mirror applying the last few drops of perfume to her nude body. In. the bathroom her husband Peter was drying himself after his shower, and now he entered with the towel wrapped around his waist. Sharon saw his, reflection in the mirror as he picked up a pack of cigarettes from the dresser and lit one.
She dabbed a-bit of perfume onto the inside of her thighs as she asked, "What time is it, Peter? We're not late, are we?"
"It's going on eight-thirty," he replied as he moved behind her and let one hand drop to caress her ass. She felt his fingers slide between her legs where the perfume was just drying. "We don't have to be at the Johnson' for another hour, so there's plenty of time," he continued, and he pressed against her, letting her feel his erect cock through the damp towel.
Sharon turned around, letting her hand brush his prick. "My, you're getting it up early tonight, aren't you?" she laughed, and she kissed him lightly. But she moved away quickly and said, "Not enough time for that, though. Besides, we don't want to wear ourselves out before the party."
"Quite right," Peter said. "But how about a cock-tail before we go?"
"Great, I could use one."
Peter walked into the living room and Sharon could hear the tinkle of glass as he poured and mixed the drinks. She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of pantyhose. She examined it for runs, found a tiny one near, the ankle, and she casually dropped it in the wastebasket before taking out another pair. She was glad that they could afford little luxuries like that. She remembered that when they were first married, ten years before, they had just been able to live on Peter's salary from the broker's office. But he had been promoted quickly and now he made over thirty thousand a year as a junior partner.
They had a house in the suburban town of Wallston, just outside the. city. She remembered being terribly excited when they bought the house, for it was the first time she had ever lived outside an apartment building. But though it was a good neighborhood of large well-kept lawns and sprawling ranch houses, with the Wallston country club five minutes drive from the house, she looked forward to when Peter would be made a senior partner and they could afford to move to Shore Drive. She had the house picked out; she made Peter drive past it every time they were near there, and he had promised it to her if the owners could somehow be persuaded to sell when the time came. She didn't worry, though; Peter would find a way.
She was thankful that they hadn't gotten a divorce several years before. The divorce had been very much a reality then, and they probably would have gone through with it if they hadn't discovered the parties just in time. They had been bored with each other, though Sharon knew all along that she liked Peter and sometimes loved him, and she was sure Peter felt the same about her. But the parties, held almost every weekend, gave them the excitement they needed. The first time she watched Peter fucking another woman filled Sharon with an unbelievable excitement, and their rejuvenated sex life had kept their marriage intact.
Sharon had had several dreary affairs in the early years of her marriage, but since the advent of the weekend swapping parties she reserved all her sex for her husband during the week, knowing that on Saturday night she would have her fill of other men. Other women, too, for she had discovered that a woman could sometimes arouse her even more than a man. The males in the group looked askance at homosexual activities among themselves, but the women all enjoyed bisexuality. Indeed, that was one of the prerequisites for admission to the group.
"Here's the martini," Peter said when he re-turned. "No olives left, I'm afraid. Remember to get some next week, will you?"
Sharon said she wouldn't forget and took the drink. As she sipped it she glanced down at Peter's towel. His erection was no longer visible, but she felt a sudden whimsical urge to get his cock hard again.
He had sat on the bed and Sharon sat next to him. She put her drink on the night table and then slipped one hand up his leg. Peter glanced at her, slightly puzzled, when her hand touched his cock, but then he continued to sip on the martini, pre-tending not to notice.
She felt the cock twitch under her touch and begin to grow. Pulling away the towel, she leaned over the nearly erect prick and touched her lips to its head. Peter's cock was completely hard in an instant and Sharon smiled in satisfaction. Then she opened her mouth, rounded her lips over her teeth, and slipped the cock inside her mouth. She slid it in and out a few times and with her tongue licked off a drop of slippery fluid which had oozed at the tip, but as soon as she felt Peter raise his hips to meet her mouth she stopped and sat up.
"None of that now," she said, smiling. "I'm just getting you warmed up for tonight."
"You don't have to warm me up, baby," Peter replied. "But if you do that for half a minute longer I'll give you a mouthful. Or, if you'd like to. lie back for a minute, I'll give you a cuntful."
Sharon stood up reluctantly, still smiling. She said, "Save it for one of the other broads, Nancy Johnson for instance. You two really put on a show a couple of weeks ago."
"I suppose so, but last week you and Fred did pretty well."
Sharon thought back to when Fred's cock had been inside her and it made her cunt ache in anticipation. With luck, she would get him again tonight. But if not, it was no matter. All the men were good lovers and she never had to worry about getting a dud.
She took another sip of the martini and began to pull on the pantyhose. She looked at herself in the mirror while she drew the elastic waistband over her flat belly, the belly which she had not yet ruined by having a child. She was proud of the way her belly looked, as likewise she was proud of her firm breasts with the always-pointed nipples, her round buttocks, and gently curving thighs. She was glad that at thirty she still looked younger, and she hoped that she would stay that way.
She reached for her sheer blue blouse and put it on. As she tossed her long black hair over the collar she asked, "Do you know if everyone is coming to-night?"
"I should imagine so," her husband replied. "All except the Smiths, of course."
"That's right. I'd forgotten about them." The Smiths had moved to the West Coast a few days before. The previous! week's party had been, in part, a farewell to them:
There were usually five couples in the group: the Smiths, just departed; Sharon and Peter; Fred North, a former major in army intelligence who now sported a bushy mustache and jovial disposition and was liked by everyone, though his wife Carol was equally disliked; Barry and Nancy Johnson, founders of the group, and at whose house the evening's entertainment would be held; and finally Edward and Dale Simmons, a young college professor and his even younger wife, who, though not as experienced as some of the older women, had a stunning body and was much sought after by the men, as well as some of the women.
Peter, just putting on his undershorts, said, "Did I mention that I talked to Ed Simmons the other day? Saw him out cutting the grass. He said they'd come across a couple who might be interested, and hell probably bring it up tonight."
"That'll be fun," Sharon said. "It'll mean another of those dreary straight cocktail parties to look them over, but the group can use some new blood. What about another big party? Anybody mention plans for one of those?"
"Haven't heard," Peter said, "but it's about time for one."
Sharon and Peter's group was one of four in the immediate area, and every few months they would All get together for a gigantic party which usually lasted well into Sunday afternoon. On other occasions two groups might meet, but generally they met separately. Barry and Nancy were the liaisons with the others, and it was said that they knew swingers in almost every city in the country. According to rumor, during a recent two-week vacation the Johnsons had slept with a combined total of over forty partners. Sharon believed it, although she thought that it had been Barry, notoriously promiscuous, who had accounted for the majority of that number.
Peter had finished dressing and went out to sit in the living room. Sharon put on a short skirt, brushed out her hair, and twirled in front of the mirror to make sure her breasts were visible, but hot too visible, through the blouse. Satisfied, she carried her drink out to join Peter and wait a few minutes before driving to the Johnson house.
As she sat beside him on the couch she briefly considered arousing him once more, just for fun, but she was afraid that they might go too far and not have enough strength left for the party. She remembered how embarrassed Nancy had been one evening when her husband had been unable to get a hardon. It had worked out well in the end though, for all the women had worked on Barry at the same time, and he had eventually come around. Sharon knew that all the men had chuckled over Barry's temporary humiliation, though they had envied the cure, and Sharon didn't want Peter to be put in that position. So she contented herself with anticipating the action to come, while she sipped on the martini and almost unconsciously rubbed her ringers over one hard nipple.
* * *
Sharon and Peter arrived a few minutes early, but were still the last couple. It was important not to be late, for once everyone was undressed a ringing door-bell was accompanied by first nervousness on every-one's part, soon followed by annoyance and sarcasm directed toward the latecomers. But that happened only rarely; it took a good reason to keep anyone away from a party, especially when Barry and Nancy were the hosts, for Barry always thought up a gimmick to make the activities more interesting.
Tonight was no exception. As soon as Sharon and Peter had greeted everyone, been handed drinks, and sat comfortably on the couch, Barry stood up and walked to the end of the room as if mounting a stage. In his hand. he held a small blackboard with a needle affixed to the center. He put the board and his drink on the mantle piece and turned around, clearing his throat as if about to address a board of directors.
Sharon thought that it was the closest Barry would ever come to actually doing that, for although he was a moderate success in business and had been first in his class at college, everyone knew that Barry Johnson's only real interest was sex. He had often said that if he ever died of a heart attack it wouldn't be after a hard, day at the office, but after an exhausting night with a woman.
Now Barry looked around the room and began: "Well, gang, looks like we're all here tonight, except for the Smiths. Nancy got a postcard from Sheila Smith this afternoon, and it seems that they're al-ready settled down to swinging with three other couples. And Ed, here, just told me that some friends, Steven and Mindy White, may, be interested in joining. So Ed will hold the party next week to look them over, and anyone else who knows a couple can invite them too, just like the normal procedure."
Barry turned to pick up the blackboard from the mantel. "I suppose you're all wondering what this is. You'll notice that I have it marked off in eight sections and that this needle spins." He flicked the needle with a finger and made it twirl. "What we're going to do is write our names in with chalk on the outside, and then spin it to see who's first. Once we're downstairs and naked, then that person will spin to see who the partner will be. I've set up a couple of mattresses at one end of the basement, along with a spotlight, and those two can fuck while every-one looks on. When they're finished the spouse of the last one chosen will spin for a partner, and so on.
"A few rules, though. First, the partner has to be someone other than a husband or wife, and also I think we'll all agree that we won't allow two men."
"Why not? I think that would be fun to watch." Sharon turned quickly to see which woman had said that. It was Carol North, which didn't surprise Sharon in the least. Carol was always suggesting things which no one else liked, and at times she was petty and mean. If Fred had not been so well-liked, Carol would have been blackballed long ago.
But Barry seemed to ignore Carol's comment. He took a sip of his drink and continued. "Secondly, we'll refrain from fucking in the audience, at least until everyone has had a shot on stage. In case some-one should get carried away, we have this." Barry reached behind a potted palm in the corner- and pulled out a small braided whip.
Sharon joined the others in a gasp when the whip came into view, but she also felt a twinge in her cunt. She wondered what it would be like to feel the leather against her flesh.
Barry cracked the whip and said, "This is soft leather, so it doesn't hurt too much, but I imagine that twenty quick strokes across the ass with this should be a deterrent. And the way I figure it, unless a woman is actually being raped she doesn't have to fuck if she doesn't want to, so to make it interesting the woman will be the one to get the punishment. Agreed?"
Sharon thought that it was a typical trick for Barry. She knew that all the men would be doing their damnedest to make the women fuck when they shouldn't, and as she looked around her the grins of the-men told her that they were thinking the same. But she didn't want to speak out against it; already her cunt had twinged once again.
Barry laid the whip down on top of the blackboard, then thought for a moment and handed the blackboard to Nancy, who was sitting closest to him. "We might as well start writing in the names now," he said, and he handed over a piece of chalk from his pocket.
"And now, one more bit of good news. There :s going to be a party next month up on Shore Drive. About a hundred couples should be there, and it'll go on from Friday night through Sunday evening. And of course, we're all invited."
A small burst of applause followed this announcement. Sharon had never been to a party that large before, and she immediately wondered how it would feel to have so many people looking at her nude body.
"That will be rather exciting," Peter said to her, and she agreed. She made a mental note to circle the date on her calendar.
In a few minutes everyone had written their names on the blackboard. Barry took it up again and spun it to see who would be the first to choose a partner. The needle twirled and then stopped, pointing at Nancy, his wife. There were a few cries of "Fix!" but Fred said, "That's the way it should be -- the hostess should go first and put everyone at their ease."
The four couples trouped downstairs to the basement. Sharon was walking next to Fred, and she noticed that he was eying her breasts through the flimsy blouse. She purposely made them jiggle while walking down the stairs to give him a good show.
The basement was already set up for the evening's activities. Two double mattresses were stacked on the floor at one end of the room, and two spotlights formed a circle of white in their center. Dim red lights illuminated the rest of the room, and heavy curtains had been drawn across the basement windows. At one side was a bar and next to it a stereo. Barry put on the music while Nancy mixed fresh drinks.
Sharon found herself standing next to Fred, feeling very self-conscious. The next step was for every-one to take off their clothes, and though they had all done it before many times, there was always the awkwardness of being the first one to begin to undress. But Barry apparently realized the difficulty, and he called out, "Well, what are we waiting for? One, two, three, strip?"
Sharon needed no further urging. She unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off, then unsnapped the skirt and stepped cut of it. She had just hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her pantyhose when Ed Simmons called out, "Gather around over here. Dale has something to show you."
Sharon looked over to where Dale was standing, her slender curved body clad only in panties. The other persons, in various stages of undress, gathered around Dale, and Sharon joined them.
Dale said, "Ed wasn't being quite accurate. What I have to show is something that I don't have." With that, she quickly bent forward, pulled her panties down to her ankles, and stood straight and stepped out of them. She planted her feet wide apart and it was immediately obvious: she had shaved her pussy.
Dale's body always resembled that of a well-developed teenager, for she was only a year or two past her teens anyway, but now, with her hairless cunt, she looked like a nubile nymphette. Everything was visible: the swelling of her mound, the narrow slit, even a touch of pink inside where the cunt lips were spread by her open thighs.
The spectacle was greeted by some gasps and murmurs of appreciation from the men, as well as from some of the women. Sharon wished that she herself had thought of that, and she decided that if Peter had no objection she would shave her hair also.
Nancy also had the same idea. When everyone was undressed she spun the needle to choose a partner, and it stopped at Peter's name. Nancy walked to where he was standing, took his hand, and led him up to the stage. But she paused, and then said to Barry, "Dear, will you run upstairs and get some scissors and your electric razor? I want to look like a pre-pubescent little girl too."
"Fat chance, with those big boobs of yours," Barry said, but he dutifully ran upstairs.
Peter was grinning, seeming to relish the idea, and when Barry had returned with the equipment Peter set to work on Nancy's cunt, first snipping with the scissors, then running the electric razor over every square inch of her cunt flesh. Nancy was helping him by pointing out spots he had missed and spreading her legs to let him reach every recess. When the job was finished they brushed away all the hair from her body and from the mattress, and then Nancy, standing, made Peter kneel in front of her and lick her pussy.
Sharon, sitting on the floor, watched Nancy and her husband perform, but she was watching with less interest than was usual. Fred was lying on his side next to her, his thigh touching her knee, and Sharon found' herself stealing glances at his penis, semi-erect but relaxed and lying on his belly. Fred was watching the stage intently, and now and then Sharon could see his cock twitch and momentarily stiffen.
Nancy's scream when she came made Sharon concentrate on the stage again, where Peter was now pumping his dick in and out of her cunt, faster and faster. Then Peter groaned as he thrust inside for the last time and kept it in while he came.
There was a smattering of applause as Peter and Nancy got up and walked off the stage.
"All right, Sharon, it's your turn to choose," Peter said as he sank to the floor, pulling Nancy down with him.
Someone handed Sharon the board, and she looked over the names for a moment, trying to decide which one she wanted the needle to point to.
Fred's name was it the top. Sharon looked at him again, still lying On. his side, his slumbering cock resting on his hairy thigh. She remembered last week, when the cock, massive and hard, had pounded inside her pussy, spurting jets of *arm come into her wet cunt.
Nancy's name was next. Sharon thought of how Nancy had screamed when she climaxed with Peter on the stage, and she looked at her now, her head in Peter's lap, one hand toying with his spent prick. Her legs were spread open, and Sharon had a full view of the shaved cunt and the trickle of jism that had dripped out of the slit and down her thigh. Sharon felt a quick urge to lick the trickle of come and then plunge her tongue into that soft, moist cunt.
"Come on, Sharon, get on with it," Fred said. "We're all waiting for the next act." He rested his hand on her thigh and then began to stroke her pussy.
Sharon slapped his hand away. "Stop that, you're getting me all wet. I'm just trying to make a wish for who I want the needle to point to."
"I hope you're wishing for me." Fred squeezed her thigh above the knee and ran his hand up to her cunt again. Sharon let it stay there.
She glanced over the rest of the names quickly. Dale. Dale with the perfect body and now the hair-less cunt. Dale's husband. Edward, slender of body but with a cock big enough to fill even. the largest cunt. Then there was Barry. As a lover he always seemed to come a little too quickly, but he could regain his hardon in five minutes.
Fred jammed a finger into her box and Sharon gasped. He had moved closer and his hard dick was pressed against her leg. Sharon knew that she would have to spin the needle soon before she lost control of herself and let Fred fuck her there and now. She glanced toward the bar where the whip rested, and she shuddered to think of the leather lash stinging her ass while everyone looked on and laughed at her humiliation.
Sharon gasped again as Fred inserted another finger into her cunt, and she clutched her right breast and squeezed the nipple hard to regain her senses.
Carol's name was last, and Sharon hoped that the needle would not point to her. Beside's having a mean disposition, Carol seemed to be' constantly sneering, and her body lacked the soft curves that graced the other women.
Carol spoke: "Sharon baby, you're taking too long. Don't you remember the rules, sweetheart?"
"Maybe if you'd tell your husband to stop distracting me for a moment I could. Now, Fred, cut it out."
Fred's two fingers were working furiously inside her cunt, and his thumb was rubbing her clit.
Carol said, "Hah, how can he do that? He doesn't distract me in the least. If it wasn't for these parties every weekend rd have bought a vibrator long ago."
"None of that, Carol," Fred said harshly. To Sharon he said, "I hardly ever fuck her anymore, especially since for the last few months she's had a boyfriend on the side."
"I don't blame you, Fred," Sharon said. "I wonder what her boyfriend sees in her."
Fred chuckled. have no idea. But at least he keeps her out of my hair. As for you, you had better spin the needle before I rape you."
Sharon put the board on -the floor and spun the needle with her right hand. With her left she grasped Fred's dick and squeezed.
The needle spun, slowed, and stopped. "Who is 'it?" Peter asked.
Fred answered. "It's pointing to you, Peter. No good, right?"
"Right. Spin it again, Sharon."
Sharon stroked Fred's hard cock with one hand and felt it grow. With the other hand she spun the -needle once more. Fred removed one finger from her cunt and with it probed the crack of her ass. Sharon breathed hard, her breasts heaved, , her legs trembled, and, she squeezed Fred's prick while the needle spun. It stopped.
Sharon gasped quickly. "It's Carol," she whispered.
"Good! I was hoping I'd get a chance at you," Carol said. She rose and walked to where Sharon was sitting. Sharon grasped Fred's dick more tightly as Carol approached.
Carol stood above her as she said, "Come on now, baby, let go of Fred and get on stage. It'll be so good to get your tongue inside my wet pussy."
Sharon released Fred's prick and stood up. Immediately, Carol's arm was around her, her tongue was inside Sharon's mouth, and her forefinger was jabbed up into Sharon's cunt. With a cry and a feeling of revulsion Sharon pushed Carol away and flung herself on top of Fred. Her mouth sought his cock, found it, and sucked it in until its head was almost into her throat.. With her hands she squeezed his balls and the base of the shaft.
Fred groaned and pulled her on top of him. Sharon felt his hands clutching her ass, his tongue devouring her wetness. She squirmed on top of him, forcing his tongue deeper into her cunt, and her head bobbed up and down, sucking and licking his hard, blue-veined prick. She heard excited voices around her, but the parameters of her world were the sensations building in her cunt and the exquisite pulsing of the live sex in her mouth.
Sharon felt someone's hard hands trying to tear her from Fred, but she clutched his legs, forcing the cock deeper into her mouth, and she squeezed her legs together around Fred's head.
Suddenly she felt an almost unbearable pressure inside her, growing, hurting, boiling; excruciating pressure and pain that seemed never to stop until at once it exploded and she mashed her cunt against Fred's mouth while sucking harder on his dick. She felt Fred come; the warm fluid burst into her mouth and down her throat, almost choking her, but she gulped it down to meet another jet of come, and then another, as Fred bucked his hips beneath her, forcing his cock into her so that her gagging throat was wide open and the spurts of come shot directly down into her belly.
It was over. Sharon lay on top of Fred, exhausted. His limp prick was still in her mouth but she had neither the energy nor will to remove it.
Sharon opened her eyes. She saw blurred figures standing in a circle above herself and Fred. One per-son moved forward.
It was Carol. The whip was in her hands. "I hope you had fun, sweetie,, because it's my turn now."
Sharon looked at the whip and cringed. Then Fred said, "But we didn't decide who would administer the punishment. Is it supposed to be Carol?"
Here was a hope. If Carol didn't do the whipping then it might not be so bad. Sharon looked for an answer, first to Fred, then to Peter, and finally to Barry.
"In this case, anyway, I'd say that Carol should be the one," Barry said. "After all, she and Sharon were supposed to go on stage when she started in on Fred."
Sharon looked around her for support, but every-one seemed to agree with Barry. Fred had shrugged his shoulders, as if to tell Sharon, "Well, I tried, but it looks like you'll have to go through with it."
Sharon stood up on unsteady legs. Carol was leering at her and waving the whip. Hoping that it would be over soon Sharon walked onto the mat-tresses.
Carol made her kneel down, her thighs spread slightly, facing the group. "There now, aren't you pretty like that?" She let the tip of the whip dangle over Sharon's breasts. "Look at those nice tits. Mm, and look at your pretty ass." Carol now let the tip of the whip caress Sharon's ass cheeks.
Carol continued a running commentary on the parts of Sharon's body, all the time letting the whip just touch her skin. In spite of herself, Sharon felt her cunt coming alive again as she listened to Carol's monologue and felt the leather tickling her flesh.
The glare of the spotlights almost blinded her, but Sharon could still see the faces of the others in the near darkness. Barry was licking his lips as he watched, and even her husband was staring, seeming to be entranced.
Carol was saying, "And look at your sweet little pussy. It's almost as nice as mine. What do you think of my pussy, Sharon?"
Sharon didn't answer.
More harshly, Carol said, "What do you think of my pussy, you slut!" Suddenly the whip cracked across Sharon's ass, making the flesh smart. Sharon, caught off guard, emitted a tiny cry.
"You still haven't answered me, slut. What do you think of my pussy?"
"It's a beautiful pussy," Sharon said softly.
The whip lashed once more. "You can do better than that, you little whore. Tell me, isn't it the most beautiful pussy you've ever seen?"
Sharon did not dare to answer negatively. "Yes, it is," she said.
"And what about my tits?"
"Your tits are the most beautiful I've ever seen."
Sharon found herself telling Carol how beautiful her body was, how delicious her cunt would taste, and how she thought that Carol would be the perfect lover. After ten minutes and the full twenty lashes, there was nothing that Sharon would not say to Carol to be spired one more lash. Though the lashes did not hurt that much, the fact that everyone was watching her humiliation multiplied their sting, and Sharon preferred to whisper the proper reply to Carol than to have everyone see her quiver under a hard blow.
But now, the punishment over, Carol tossed away the whip. Sharon was about to stand up, but Carol said, "No, stay on, your knees. That's it. Now stick out your tongue and close your eyes."
Sharon did as 'she was told. A moment later she felt her tongue touch Carol's pubic hairs. Carol seemed to be moving her pussy in a circular motion while letting Sharon's tongue just touch the hair, but no more. After a full minute of this Sharon wished that Carol would either stop or else let her lick the cunt itself. The latter wish was granted a moment later.
Carol's cunt tasted slightly salty at first, when Sharon's tongue made contact with the clit, but then, as Sharon tilted her head back and licked the length of the pussy, she could taste the powerful and aromatic cunt juice. Carol held Sharon's head in her hands, moving it from side to side or up and down, and Sharon let herself be controlled. Her lips were pressed against the lips of the cunt and slid easily over them, her tongue burrowed into the slit and with each lick became covered with fresh juice, which Sharon swallowed.
Sharon had forgotten that she disliked Carol, had even forgotten the degrading whiplashes. All she wanted was to keep tasting the juice of the cunt that squirmed and writhed above her.
"Stick your tongue all the way inside," Carol said, and Sharon complied. She stuck her tongue out until it hurt and sank it deep inside, feeling the in-side of Carol's cunt, feeling the smoothness, the wetness, and the warmth. She wiggled the tip of her tongue from side to side, and that seemed to drive Carol wild. Sharon could feel the other woman's body trembling, and suddenly, without warning, she heard Carol shriek in passion and delight, while the cunt muscles contracted around her tongue and the juice flowed more freely into her mouth.
Carol shuddered one last time and then stepped back. Sharon had opened her eyes and she saw that Carol was smiling sweetly at her. That was unusual; a sneer was all she had ever received before.
Carol said quietly, "That was very good, Sharon. Where did you ever learn to eat out like that?"
Sharon could detect a hint of admiration in Carol's voice. But rather than encourage Carol, she ignored the question.
Once again in a quiet voice, Carol asked, "Would you like me to eat you? I'm not so bad at it myself, you know."
Sharon shook her head.
The smile was replaced by the sneer. "All right, bitch, see if I care. But just wait -- you'll get what's coming to you."
Carol stalked off the stage and sat on a table at the back of the room, under one of the windows. Sharon remained on stage for a moment, and then she walked off slowly, wondering if perhaps she should have responded to Carol's sudden friendliness. But no; the less she had to do with Carol the better.
But Carol's husband Fred was a different matter. Sharon sat next to him and looked at his prick while he picked up the board and made ready to spin the needle.
With luck, Sharon thought, maybe it'll be me again.
CHAPTER TWO
Ed Simmons had sat quietly during most of the evening. He had watched the performances on stage with interest while waiting patiently for his turn to come, but now and then his mind strayed. He wondered what some Lit his colleagues at the university would say if they. could see him at the party, stripped naked and fucking other men's wives. But he decided that they wouldn't censure him; almost all the professors had affairs from time to time, and this was almost the same. And it was better, really, because there was no sense of cheating. No, it was open and free; he and Dale would never have a scene when one discovered that the other had a lover.
When he and Dale were married two years before they had agreed to tell each other of any extra-marital flings. Dale had been a virgin before he met her, and after a year she told him that, although she loved him and loved sex with him, she wanted to try it with other men. He had been a bit shocked at first, but had agreed, and the matter was settled a few weeks later when they met Barry and Nancy at a party.
It paid dividends, too. Every time Dale returned from an evening with another man she seemed to have picked up another little trick, a new position or a variation on an old one, and she was now a completely different lover than she had been before. She didn't know everything yet, but Ed was sure that she knew more than most women of twenty-two, and perhaps more than some women would ever know.
He watched her now on stage with Fred. She was on her hands and knees while Fred thrust in from behind, and she was enjoying it, if her groans were any indication. Ed enjoyed watching her have a good time, just as he had enjoyed .the admiring glances that her hairless pussy had received. He just hoped that she would never find a man that thrilled her enough to make her want to leave him.
Dale and Fred soon finished, and now it was his turn to spin the needle. He rather hoped that it would turn out to be Nancy, for that would mean that Barry would go next, and hence all the men and all the women would have a turn on the stage. It would be neat and orderly like that; Ed prized order just a fraction less than he prized his wife.
However, after several spins that came out wrong, pointing to himself, his wife, and then himself again, the needle pointed to Carol. He placed her at the bottom of the list of desirability, but he shrugged his shoulders and walked to the stage to fuck her and be done with it.
"This seems to be my lucky night," Carol said when she joined him. "I got to use the whip, and now I get the guy with the biggest prick."
Edward smiled ruefully. He was about to say, "It's too bad it has to be wasted on you," but he refrained. Instead, he suddenly scooped her up by the ass, made her hook her legs around his waist, and tried to jab his cock into her cunt.
She was dry, and she said, "Hey! That hurts. You've got to get me wet first."
Ed didn't feel like spending any time kissing and fondling her, so instead he aimed his mouth and let a large glob of spit fall onto his cock. He rubbed the head of his cock back and forth outside her cunt, spreading the saliva, and once more tried to penetrate. This time his prick slid in easily, and a moment later he felt Carol's juices added to the spit to make it easier still.'
He reflected that her cunt was tight and muscular, and that she really wasn't a bad fuck. If she weren't such a bitch any man might be glad to screw her. But as it was, Ed just wanted to make her come and then come himself, while wasting as little time and energy as possible.
Making Carol come was no problem. He could hear her heavy panting as he thrust in and out, and he felt her fingernails digging into his back. Her breathing became irregular, she began to moan, and Ed pulled her ass closer, making his cock fill her cunt completely, while at the same time he stuck a finger into her asshole. That did it, and Carol bit his shoulder in passion while she came. He felt the rhythmic contractions of her cunt enveloping his prick and let himself come, and was surprised at the intensity of his orgasm. He hadn't thought that Carol could arouse him like that.
She still clung to him, though they were both still now, but finally Ed lifted her up and away, then eased her down. He walked off the stage before she had fully recovered her strength and was able to stand.
A few minutes later, on her way to the back of the room, Carol paused in front of him. "You're not much of a gentleman," she said, "leaving me on stage like that."
"But you had a good time, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did." Carol almost smiled. Then, "Oh, go fuck yourself," she said, and she walked on.
Edward laughed to himself but said nothing.
It was Fred's turn again, since his wife Carol had been Edward's partner, but Fred said that he would pass in favor of Barry. Everyone agreed, and Ed was glad that things would work out properly after all.
Sharon became Barry's partner, and they fucked twice in the space of ten minutes, finishing the evening's diversion. All that remained was to choose partners for the night, and then the couples could leave when they wanted.
The lights were turned up, Nancy Johnson passed around a tray with fresh drinks, and slips of paper with the names of the women were placed in a bowl. Each man drew a name: Barry got Dale, Fred had Sharon, Peter drew Carol's name, and Edward was left with Nancy. Ed was not displeased, but, since the men went to the women's houses and Nancy was the hostess this evening, she and Ed would not be able to get together until everyone else had left. But it didn't look as if it would be too long; most people seemed rather anxious to be alone and do some serious fucking with their partners.
Dale came over to say goodnight to Ed before leaving with Barry. She kissed him, and Ed let his hand fall to her smooth cunt.
"You going to miss it, dear?" she asked.
"Of course I will."
"But it'll be back tomorrow. And besides, you'll be with Nancy and she's shaved too."
"That's right," Ed said, "I'd forgotten that."
Dale kissed him one more time and went upstairs, carrying her clothes in her hand. For some reason which Ed had never understood, his wife never liked to dress while others were watching, even Ed, al-though she didn't mind undressing. Ed ascribed it to a quirk of human nature.
Within ten more minutes everyone had left. Ed sat in a chair in the basement, sipping on a final drink, waiting for Nancy to return from upstairs. As he waited he closed his eyes and thought back to an article he was working on for a professional journal, an article which reached conclusions that, despite being somewhat radical, might establish Ed's reputation as an expert in the field of theoretical mathematics and imaginary numbers. He hoped so, anyway.
But his thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he felt first a soft hand and then a warm wet mouth closing over his prick. He opened his eyes quickly to see Nancy's head lowered over his crotch, sucking his cock, while she knelt on the floor between his legs.
"You're not wasting any time, are you, Nancy?" he said quietly.
Nancy stopped her sucking and looked up. "I was just making sure that you were in the mood. And I must say, you certainly are." She looked down at his cock, which had stiffened to full size while she sucked. "If you'll just keep it up like that while we go upstairs," Nancy continued, "we're going to have one hell of a night."
Ed stood up, and Nancy rose also. He quickly thrust his hand between her legs, feeling for the slit in the smooth shaved flesh, and he found what he was looking for. "I'll keep my cock hard if you just keep that juice flowing," he said, and Nancy murmured that he had nothing to worry about on that account.
They were in the bedroom a minute later. This was Nancy's room, her husband's being at the other side of the house, and Nancy quickly reminded Ed that he could stay as long as he liked the following day. "Barry knows better than to come in here when there's a chance I might not be alone."
"And how often is that, besides weekends?" Ed said as he sprawled on the bed, his legs spread, his cock standing up in the air.
"Depends how lucky I am," Nancy laughed. "Twice, maybe three times a week, maybe more. But enough of that. What do you want to do right now?"
Ed held his cock between two fingers and waved it. "What do you think I want to do?"
"Well, naturally. But how about making it more interesting? For instance, would you like to rape me?"
It was Ed's turn to laugh. "I didn't know that it was possible to rape you, Nancy. Someone raped by you, perhaps, but I can't quite imagine a time when you wouldn't enjoy being fucked."
"Please, Ed. I'm just an innocent little woman who doesn't know the first thing about flicking or sucking or anything like that. Here I am in my bed-room, naked because I'm getting ready for a shower, and suddenly there's a naked man in my room. I struggle, but it's hopeless, and I find myself being raped. Do you get the picture?"
"If that's the way you want it then I'll gladly oblige. Do you want me to go outside the room and suddenly burst in?"
"That'll be perfect," Nancy said.
Ed stepped outside and closed the door behind him. His prick had not decreased in size one bit, but he rubbed it just to make sure. He gave Nancy a couple of minutes to get ready and then threw open the door.
Nancy was standing with her back to him on the other side of the bed. She had put on a pair of pan-ties that Ed was sure were intended to be torn off, but otherwise she was still naked. Ed stifled a laugh when he thought that she was supposed to be an innocent virgin who would soon be fighting for her honor. If there was anything which the voluptuous Nancy did not look like it Was a virgin. But, for the sake of the little game, Ed tried to imagine it. He took a step forward.
Nancy turned around and saw him. She screamed, not loudly enough to alarm the neighbors, but. still the scream seemed realistic. Her hands flew up to cover her naked breasts. "What do you want?" she cried.
"I'm going to rape you," Ed said, trying to make his words sound convincing.
"I'll call the police," Nancy screamed, and she tried to rush past him to the door.
Ed hooked his arm around her stomach and dragged her back, throwing her on the bed. He reached for her panties to tear them off, but suddenly Nancy lashed out and scratched her fingernails across her cheek.
"Hey!" Ed cried, his cheek smarting. "You're not supposed to do that."
"When I'm being raped I'll do anything I please," Nancy retorted, and her hand lashed out once more. He caught it before she scratched him again, and with his free hand he slapped her across the face. Nancy groaned, but Ed saw her eyes light up. She was enjoying it.
She made a half-hearted attempt to scratch him again with her other hand, but Ed easily caught her wrist. He then climbed over her, sitting on her thighs while holding her arms pinned to the bed with his knees. He began to slap her lightly, first across the face, then her breasts. He saw her nipples stiffen and almost throb under his smarting blows.
Nancy had ceased to struggle, but she still groaned with each slap. Ed could feel her hips lifting as she tried to make her cunt come in contact with his cock, and when he slipped his hand between her thighs he found that the panties were soaking.
"All right, bitch, get up on your feet," he said, climbing off her. He pulled her up after him.
Suddenly, Nancy tried to break for the door again. Once more Ed stopped her, and now, when he threw her across the bed, her thighs were spread at the edge with her feet on the floor. With a sweeping motion he ripped off the panties, flinging them across the room, and in another instant he was fucking her.
He plunged his cock into her cunt as hard and .as fast as he could. If she were really a virgin, as they were .pretending, his cock would be making her bloody and sore. As it was, however, Nancy had for-gotten the playacting, and she rose up to meet each thrust, rotating her hips and grinding her cunt under him. She groaned, but from pleasure, not pain.
Ed was fucking her brutally, and Nancy seemed to be loving it. He had never seen this side of her be-fore, but he reflected that many women were masochists; most of them repressed it, while a few made submissiveness their sexual norm. But he doubted that Nancy was truly a masochist. More likely she just enjoyed playing the roles to make sex more interesting, and Ed thought that he wouldn't be surprised if she took the dominant role the next time.
"Damn it, I'm coming already," Nancy cried, and Ed began thrusting faster and more deeply. "Ah!" she moaned, and then her cunt went wild, heaving up against blip,' and she laughed and cried at the same time. Ed slowed down, catching his breath, once her climax had finished.
"I didn't know it felt so good to be raped," Nancy laughed, opening her eyes. "I always thought that a rape was supposed to be agony."
"But this rape isn't finished yet," Ed said, rolling off her quickly. "Get down on your knees on the floor and suck me."
He saw Nancy's eyes light up, but she said, "And how are you going to make me?"
"Like this!" He grabbed her arm, forced it behind her back, and pushed her to the floor. He maintained the pressure on her arm while he made her lower her head and open her mouth, but he relaxed his hold once she started sucking.
She sucked expertly, and Ed lay back on the bed to enjoy it. Through half open eyes he watched her bobbing head, saw her mouth bulge with the prick inside it, and he placed one hand on the back of her head to guide it. She was sucking slowly now, running her wet lips up and down around the cock while she tongued it inside her mouth. Her hand grasped the cock at the base, and she moved the hand rhythmically with the sucking of her mouth, up and down, up and down, now gaining tempo but still controlled.
Ed could feel his passion mounting. He was al-most to the brink now; every movement of Nancy's hand and mouth brought him a little closer to coming. Finally the moment was upon him, and with both hands he held her head, forcing it to move furiously, and he felt his come surging through his prick, almost out, almost there, and then pouring from his cock and into Nancy's sucking mouth in waves, one, two, three waves of come; then he was drained and breathing hard while Nancy toyed with his prick and balls.
Nancy was the first to speak: "You almost drowned me with that one."
"Sorry," Ed said. "But remember; you were being raped."
"Don't worry, I'm not complaining. In fact, you can rape me anytime you like."
Ed said, "You shouldn't. have said that, because I may take you up on it."
Nancy laughed. "Please do," she said.
* * *
Ed was thinking about Nancy when he stopped by his office Monday morning before going to his first class. He thought about how he had pretended to rape her once more that evening, and how, in the morning, Nancy had switched roles by forcing her cunt onto his face while he was still asleep. He remembered with relish how the smell of her cunt had penetrated his dreams, and how he had stuck out his tongue to lick it while only half awake. He was still groggy from sleep when she came the first time and had moved down to straddle him, closing her cunt around his cock, and leaning down to lick her own juice from his face. He had told Dale about that, and she had promised to do it to him sometime when it would be unexpected. Dale had also promised to show him a new position she had learned from Barry, in which she lay on her back, her hips raised, while Barry had been perpendicular to her, lying on his stomach, making his cock penetrate completely and at an unusual angle. Ed could feel his prick come alive as he thought about it, but he forced it from his mind and concentrated on the day's work.
There was half an hour before the class. Ed had to go over a few notes to prepare for it, but that would only take a few minutes. First, he reached for the mail which the departmental secretary had left on his desk.
An invitation to a faculty dinner, some advertisements, a note from a student requesting a conference. Ed looked these over absent-mindedly.
He shared the office with five other junior faculty members. They had separate desks divided by low partitions that afforded little privacy, and every few minutes one professor or another would stop by to say good morning and exchange pleasantries. Often, when a colleague would ask, "How was your week-end?" Ed wanted to reply, "Great! I balled four women not counting my wife." But he always man-aged to refrain from saying that, although he was sure that they would take it in jest if he had. But it was better to be discreet.
This morning it seemed that everyone wanted to stop and chat for a few minutes, so by the time he came to the last letter there were only several minutes left until he had to leave for class. It was a long business envelope with his name and address at school typed on, but it lacked a return address. He thought that he would hold it until after class, but his curiosity made him open it. Later on he wished that he had never seen it.
He slit it open .with his pen knife, pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and read:
Dear Professor Simmons:
Lam sure that you would not like everyone at the university to know how you spend your weekends. I am also sure that your wife would not want her friends to find out about your little orgies, where you two commit adultery as carelessly as cats.
But you need not be afraid. For a nominal fee, say $25 per week, your secret will be safe. You have two weeks in which to consider my offer. At the end of that period you will receive directions on the method by which payment will be made, as well as two 8 x 10 glossy proofs, suitable for framing, showing you and your wife in action.
But do not go to the police. If I am discovered and arrested, I assure you that everything I know about you will be disclosed.
The letter was unsigned.
Ed's first impulse was ,to laugh. The letter was surely a joke. He wondered who could have sent it. Barry, perhaps. He always had a trick up his sleeve at the parties, and he conceivably could have taken pictures during the weekend get-together. But Barry took the swapping too seriously, and it was he who had imitated the screening procedure to make sure that everyone was trustworthy. He would never want to play a cheap joke.
Was there anyone else? Joe smith, perhaps. He had often pulled practical jokes, but they were never as serious. Besides, the Smiths were on the West Coast now, and when Ed flipped over the envelope to look at the postmark he saw that it had been mailed from the city on Saturday.
He thought about the other members of the group. Fred was always, cheerful, but once again, he would not play a joke like this. And none of the others had the potential.
What about his wife? She might have mailed it, and right now she could be sitting at home laughing about it. But then Ed realized that she hadn't been in the city for at least a week, and certainly not on Saturday, so it could not have been her.
Slowly it dawned on him that the note, despite its light heartedness, might be serious. Someone might actually intend to blackmail him. A cold hardness grew in his stomach when he thought of this. Some-one, in some manner, had discovered that he and Dale attended swapping parties, and now they were making the most of it. But who could it be?
It didn't seem likely that it would be any of his friends outside the group. He and Dale had never mentioned it to anyone, and if there had been talk among the neighbors he was sure that they would have heard about it. Of course, they had hinted about swapping to Steve and Mindy White when they were seeing if they were interested in joining, but they had said nothing specific, and nothing to make them think that any swapping would be done besides between the two couples. It seemed that if it was anyone known to him, it had to be someone in the group. But who?
Ed glanced at his wristwatch and realized with a start that he was late for his class. He folded the note with nervous hands and slipped it into his jack-et pocket before rushing to the classroom.
His students seemed disappointed when he entered the room; apparently they were hoping that he would not show. He tried to forget about the letter as he began his lecture, but after a few minutes he found that he was making so many mistakes that he couldn't continue. With an apology that he wasn't feeling well, he dismissed the class and walked back to his office.
He was thankful that no one else was there. He sat at his desk for a moment, thinking, and then unfolded the letter and read it once more. Possibly it was just a joke by his wife, although it was a different type from that of the typewriter at home. But Dale would have been smart enough to have used a different one, so that didn't matter. He decided to call home.
Dale answered in a sleepy voice. Without a word of greeting Ed asked, "Do you know anything about the letter I received this morning?"
"What letter?" she asked, and the puzzlement in her voice seemed genuine.
"A letter I got in the mail this morning. A black-mail letter."
"Blackmail? Blackmail for what?"
Ed told her the contents and said that He had hoped it was just a practical joke that she had instigated.
"I'd never play a joke like that," she said, and Ed believed her. "Who do you think sent it?"
Ed said that he had no idea.
"Do you think that you'd be ruined at the university if everyone found out?" she asked.
Ed thought about that for a minute. "No," he said slowly, "I wouldn't be ruined. But it would make a juicy scandal, and things could be uncomfortable for a while. But do you have any idea who it could be?"
"I haven't the slightest," Dale replied. "But I'll think about it; end we can talk it over when you get home."
Ed hung up the phone and tried to think. He was thankful that he didn't have another class until after lunch, and by then he might be closer to a resolution of the problem. But damn it all, he thought, why does this have to happen to me? Two fellow professors entered and began to talk loudly on the other side of the room. Ed decided to flee the office and get a drink.
The Golden Shoe, the gathering place for the university students, was almost deserted in the late morning. Ed rarely came there; he had learned that it was wise not to become overly familiar with the students on a social basis. But the Golden Shoe was the nearest bar, and better yet, it was quiet now, so Ed was sure that he could do some serious thinking.
He sat at the bar, a Long oval in the center of the room, and ordered a scotch on the rocks. The bar-tender seemed about to start a conversation, but after Ed muttered a few noncommittal remarks in reply the bartender retreated to the far end of the bar.
A coed was sitting at the bar, a few stools down. Ed recognized her by sight; some faculty members had pointed her out as being a pushover for anyone wearing pants. She looked it.
She was wearing blue jeans and a tight sweater, and her breasts, which hung out over the bar, jiggled whenever she brushed her long blond hair over her shoulder. She glanced at Ed once with lowered eye-lashes and invitingly brushed her hand over the front of her body, from the neck to the stomach, passing over her breasts, but Ed did not meet her smile and instead looked away. Another time, he might have slid his drink down the bar and joined her, student or no student, but thinking about the blackmail note took priority. He watched the coed turn away with a shake of the head and concentrate on a bearded student who had just sat across from her.
Ed tried to think of all the possibilities. Firstly, it was either a joke or it was serious. If it was a joke then there was nothing to worry about; whoever had mailed the letter would soon come forward to laugh about it. But it would be a damned rotten joke for any of his friends to try, so he discounted that.
If the note were serious, and Ed was afraid that it probably was, then there were three possibilities. It was someone in the group; someone not in the group but still an acquaintance; or else someone entirely unknown to him. If it were someone in the group it would be easier to detect. Ed thought about it.
Everyone in the group had had the opportunity to take pictures at one time or another, provided that they were skilled in photography. If he had seen a picture he might know when and where they had been taken, and that could help, but he would have to wait for that. In the meantime, who would have had the skill?
There was Fred, of course. He had been in army intelligence, and perhaps he had used a concealed camera in the course of his work. But from what Fred had said he hadn't been engaged in that type of operation. He had mostly gone over reports sent in from the field and had also been in charge of stations which monitored radio broadcasts. And Fred didn't seem like they type to blackmail. Besides, Fred was a corporation vice-president now and didn't seem to need the :money. Not twenty-five dollars a week, anyway.
For that matter, who did need the money? Not Peter Lawrence, surely, because he was making more money than any of the others. But Barry? That was possible. He never cared much for his work, and he hadn't been promoted as fast as he might have been. But Barry always seemed to have enough. However, Barry had organized the group, and it was possible that he had intended to black-mail someone from the start. Ed decided that he would watch Barry closely, although he doubted that he would really stoop to blackmail. If he knew Barry, the chance of losing a cunt like Dale from the group would be ample reason not to blackmail the Simmons.
But there were the wives, too. They might have more use for the money than their husbands, especially such a small amount. It could mean extra money for clothes or almost anything.
Carol was the obvious suspect among the wives. She didn't seem to really like anyone, although she thoroughly enjoyed the feel of a hard cock in her cunt. But although she was spiteful and enjoyed making belittling comments, she didn't seem intelligent enough to think of, much less carry out, blackmail.
Sharon Lawrence didn't seem to be intelligent enough either, and money was no object to her. She always seemed to have the latest clothes, and Dale had said that she was embarrassed to shop with her, since Sharon always took her to the most expensive stores. It was conceivable that she wanted still more money, but it seemed that Sharon's idea of more money would be thousands, not just a hundred dollars a month.
That left Nancy Johnson. And there was a thought. He had been with Nancy that weekend, and Barry had been with Dale. They could have been in it together and arranged that each would take pictures, Nancy of her fucking Ed, Barry of him fucking Dale.
But wait. They had chosen lots for the partners, so they couldn't have known who they would be sleeping with that night. And the letter had been mailed before the lots were drawn. But it still seemed possible that Barry and Nancy were behind it all, though not probable, and Ed decided that he would watch them both for any sign.
Ed realized that his drink was empty and ordered another. The coed had joined the student with the beard, and Ed saw him casually feeling her breasts as they sat together. By the time his drink came they had left, and Ed noticed that the boy had his hand on the girl's ass. He almost wished that it had. been he who had picked her up.
Ed had several more drinks before he rushed out to make his afternoon class, and although he thought about everyone he knew, he could think of no one who might have sent the letter.
His wife was no help either. He sat down with her after he returned home and told her his thoughts, but she derided his suggestion that it was Barry and Nancy. "Barry doesn't care about money. All he wants is sex. And I think Nancy's the same way." But she did suggest that they should talk to some-one else about it.
"Who?" Ed asked:
"I don't know. How about Fred? He's had experience in investigating things."
"That's a damn good idea," Ed said. "If anybody can figure this out, it'll be Fred North."
"So you got a letter too," Fred said when Edward had explained the situation. "Have you been able to come up with anything?"
Ed told him what he thought about Barry and Nancy.
"I rather doubt it. Barry called me just a few minutes, ago. He got a letter, and so did Peter Lawrence."
"You mean that every single one of us got an identical note?" Ed was astonished.
"I'm afraid so," Fred said. "Look, we'll all be getting together at your house this weekend for the cocktail party. We'll all think about it, and maybe we'll come up with something by then. If not, then it looks like it's going to cost us."
"What about the police? Do you think that they could help?"
Fred laughed. "I know the chief of police. In fact, I play poker with him every other week or so. And if he does his police work the way he plays poker, then he couldn't find a thick in a haystack, let alone find someone who sends anonymous letters. And re-member what the blackmailer said: if we go to the police we might be in trouble. So let's put our heads together this Saturday and see if we can work something out. Until then, try not to worry about it. We have two weeks before we have to start paying any money."
Ed was hardly comforted by the advice. True, it was good to think that everyone was in the same situation, but that fact seemed to eliminate it being someone from the group, and therefore someone that they knew. Now it seemed likely that the black-mailer was someone who had discovered what they were up to, someone who had perhaps come across a party by accident, maybe looking in a window, and who had run to get a camera to take pictures which he later identified. Someone like that would be almost impossible to trace.
But Dale was a comfort. "Let's not think about it now," she said, and she grabbed Ed's hand and slid it under her dress. He felt the shaved flesh of her cunt with his hand, and in a few seconds he could feel her juice flowing.
She unzipped his pants and lowered her mouth to his protruding cock, and for the next several hours Ed was too active to think of anything else but Dale's wet cunt and sucking mouth.
CHAPTER THREE
Steve White and his wife Mindy arrived just as the party was getting underway. Ed Simmons and his wife greeted them at the door, and after a few words Ed pressed a drink in his hand and led him into the living room, while Dale had Mindy in tow.
Ed introduced him to the other couples. Fred North shook his hand heartily, while Carol North gave him a look which made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Steve wasn't sure just what the look had been; perhaps, although he might have been mistaken, she was sizing him up as a possible lover. He decided that he would try to get to know Carol North a little better.
But he discovered that the other women, Nancy Johnson and Sharon Lawrence, looked at him in the same manner. He didn't think that they could all be ripe for an affair, but it was still discomforting. Steve was sure he was misinterpreting their looks.
Peter Lawrence had the amiable manner of a man who was a success and knew it, but Steve thought that Barry Johnson was a shade vulgar. However, the group as a whole was very friendly.
Everyone else seemed to know each other well. Steve, of course, knew only Ed Simmons and his wife, and not intimately, but that was to be expected, having moved to Wallston only two months before, after accepting a job as an editor with a men's magazine. He was a rather junior editor, but he assumed that he would move up.
After the introductions were completed Steve walked to the bar to get another drink and decide what to do next. He always felt a little shy about mingling with strangers, but then, that was the purpose of the party. "I'm having a few friends over for a cocktail party," Ed had told him earlier in the week. "Would you like to come? No place to make friends in a new neighborhood like a cocktail party."
Steve and Mindy had agreed, of course, and here they were. But as for Steve, he was attending less to meet new friends than to get a better look at Dale Simmons. It would be horribly gauche to put the make on his host's wife, but yet he thought that he could detect an invitation from the other women. If he had not gotten to know Ed so well in the last few months he would have had no hesitation about propositioning his wife.
Now he looked for Dale. She was still with Mindy, chatting, and now they were joined by Ed. Was he mistaken, or did Ed have a lover's look in his eye when he spoke to Mindy? Well, it was possible; besides affording an opportunity to meet people, a cocktail party was always a place to flirt harmlessly with other men's wives. Steve looked around the zoom to see which woman he could talk to. Maybe Carol North. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she had given him that look when he met her. Or there was Sharon, or possibly Nancy. Any of them would do, he supposed.
But he was forestalled by Fred, who had just come up to get another drink. "Come join Peter and I," Fred said. "You interested in baseball? We were just discussing the all-star game."
Steve followed Fred back and dutifully analyzed each team's prospects, but his mind was still on Dale. She was still talking with Mindy, while Ed put in a word or two, and now they were joined by Barry. Steve thought that he would like to go over there, but it was hard to think of an excuse to get away from Peter and Fred.
For the next hour Steve continued to watch Dale, thrilling every time she turned so that he could see the profile of. her breasts and the outline of her nipples which pushed, through her blouse. The more he looked the more sure the was that he would do almost anything to be able to get his hands on those tits, not to mention the rest of her delectable body. But he couldn't think of a way to go about it, especially since it seemed that he would never get a chance to be alone with her.
"You looking at Dale Simmons?" Fred asked.
Steve realized that he had been staring, and he turned back to Fred and Peter, his face growing hot: "Why yes, I was, as a matter of fact. She's a very attractive woman, you know."
"One hell of a piece of ass is what you really mean, right?" Fred laughed, and Steve could barely stammer an agreement. Fred continued, "Don't be ashamed about looking at her. We all do."
Steve was relieved that the matter had been taken so lightly, but he told himself to be less obvious in the future. He didn't want to get a reputation for leering at other men's wives.
Fred went to the bar to get another drink, and it seemed that he had signaled to Ed when he passed where he was sitting. Ed stood up and followed Fred, and the two talked for a moment. Then Ed began to walk to where Steve was sitting, and Peter quickly stood up. "I need another drink, too," Peter said, and now Steve was alone while Dale's husband approached.
"Now I've made an ass of myself," Steve thought, and Ed's going to tell me to keep my eyes and every-thing else off his wife. Steve thought that he should leave the party now before the word got around and everyone laughed at him. But now Ed was facing him.
"So, Steve, I understand you've been staring at Dale. How would you like to fuck her?"
"How would I like to what?" Steve had expected something quite different.
"How would you like to fuck her? You may, it you like. Of course, I have an ulterior motive: I'd like to fuck Mindy."
"Are you joking?"
"No, I'm dead serious. And don't worry about Mindy. Or Dale, for that matter. We discussed it a little while ago and they all agreed, but we weren't sure how you'd take to the idea. Mindy said she thought you'd like it, but we weren't positive until Fred said that you'd been staring at Dale. So, agreed?"
Steve found himself unable to speak for a few moments. He wanted to fuck Dale, and it was okay if Mindy wanted to fuck Ed, but the casualness of it was what bothered him. He had never thought that wife-swapping would be conducted like that: a few words of agreement and then the jump into bed. And what would the others think?
"Don't worry about them," Ed said. "You and Dale can slip away, and when you two return I'll go off with Mindy. Of course, we could wait until every-one else has left, but to be honest, Dale's getting pretty horny just thinking about fucking you. She wants to do it right now."
Steve had to think about it. He gulped down his drink without realizing he was drinking it, and his hands shook. He wanted to fuck Dale now; he wanted to fuck her so badly that he would almost do it on the floor in the middle of the room. But that only happened in fantasies. In fact, the whole situation only occurred in fantasies.
"Well, what' do 'you say, Steven?" It was Dale's voice. She was standing beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
Steve looked down at her and she let her breasts brush his sleeve. His knees felt weak, his hands trembled. "Let's do it now," he said.
"I hope we'll both enjoy this," Dale said when the bedroom door had closed behind them. She put her arms around his neck and looked up with longing in her eyes. "Are you nervous?" she asked.
"Yes," Steve admitted.
"Well, don't be." She lifted her lips and Steve lowered his head to meet them. At first their lips just touched, and then he felt her lips part. He gushed his tongue through into her warm moist :mouth and touched the tip of her tongue. She forced it against his, and then they began to probe each other's mouth with quick jabs and thrusts.
Steve could hear her breathing harder and he felt her breasts mashed against his chest. Then she pushed her thigh through his and made contact with his cock. He returned the pressure, rubbing his thigh against her cunt through her skirt. She broke his hold and stepped back.
"Let's not rush this," she said. "There's plenty of time. Come, sit on the bed and let me put my head in your lap."
Steve sat on the edge of the double bed and Dale stretched out on her back, her hair flowing over his legs, her feet dangling over the end of the bed. She let her shoes fall onto the floor.
His hand rested on her stomach, just below her tits. He knew from kissing her, when his hands had roamed her back, that she wore no bra, and now he realized that her breasts were just inches from him, separated from his hands by only the thin fabric of the blouse.
Dale seemed to know, what he was thinking. "Go ahead and touch them," she said softly. "I'd like that."
Steve moved his hands slowly. He Celt the swell of the underside of one breast and let his hand rest there for a moment. Then he let his forefinger brush over the nipple and felt it erect and hard under his caress.
"Umm, I like that," she said. "You don't grab and squeeze the way some men do."
"You don't like being pawed, is that it?"
Dale cocked her head to one side. "I don't mind a healthy squeeze on my tits now and then, but it's so much nicer when they're rubbed and fondled very lightly. Makes me feel more like a woman than a sex machine. Of course," she added quickly, "being a sex machine is nice sometimes, too."
Steve continued to fondle her breasts, first one, then the other. Dale brought up her hand and let the back of it rest against his cock.
She asked, while rubbing her hand gently across his fly, "What do you like? Should I grab your cock and squeeze, or is it better just like this?"
Steve waited before replying. As a teenager and a novice at sex, he had fallen in love with any girl who would fondle his prick in any manner whatsoever. He had decided to marry his wife because she was the first girl he had met who would not only handle his cock, but would also kiss it and take it into her mouth. What was" even better was that he had been her first lover, and that the sucking on his cock had become highly enjoyable for her, although she had been repulsed at first. But as for analyzing what type of fondling seemed best, he had to admit that he didn't know. He said that.
Dale smiled knowingly. "In that case, we'll have to find out. And how about sucking? How do you like that done?"
Once again Steve had to admit that he didn't know. "I wasn't aware of any special ways to do it," he said.
"Oh, but there are so many different ways, almost too many to mention. I could concentrate on the tip of your prick with my tongue, or else lick it more underneath. I could suck it all the way in and out, using mostly my lips. I could make your cock rub against the inside of my cheek or the roof of my mouth or the flat of my tongue. There are all kinds of ways!"
"I thought sucking was sucking," Steve said, but he was beginning to feel ignorant. And more, he had never had such a frank discussion of sex with a woman. He and his wife talked about it, but it was always in clinical terms. This talk with Dale was like when he had first learned about sex from his friends in their clubhouse. However, it was much more advanced. And exciting, as well.
"I think so. In fact, she's told me that she does."
"Good," Dale said, and she seemed relieved. "And do you come in her mouth?"
Steve was startled. "Why no. She's never offered to and I never asked her. In fact, we've never thought of it."
Dale shook her head. "That will never do," she said. "I can see that we'll have to give you and Mindy a quick sex lesson. But would you like it if a woman sucked you off and made you come like that?"
"I imagine so, yes. But what is this, some kind of a quiz?"
"Sort of," Dale replied. "You see, Ed and I were hoping that you and Mindy might want to make a regular thing of this. That is, if you two would like that. But first we have to make sure that you two are good in bed. No offense to you two, of course, but we wouldn't want two prudes, or else people that just were absolutely no good at fucking."
"I think I'm beginning to get the idea," Steve said. "You mean that you and Ed would like to swap with Mindy and me, like once a week, perhaps."
"Yes, something like that. But enough for now. Kiss me again, and you may unbutton my blouse, if you like."
Steve bent his head and touched her lips, and immediately Dale's tongue was inside his mouth, swirling around his own tongue, darting between his lips and teeth, and then withdrawing back into her mouth, enticing him to follow.
His hand still rested on her tit, and he remembered finally about unbuttoning the blouse. He did it slowly, one button at a time, starting from the top. There were five buttons, and when the last was done he pulled her blouse out from the waistband of the skirt and spread it open. Still kissing her, he looked sideways at her exposed breasts.
With her lying on her back, the tits did not seem as large as they did when she was standing. But they were still full and ample. Her body was tanned, but the flesh became white over the roundness of the underside of the tits. On top, the line of white was a diagonal from the cut of her bathing suit; the tan came almost to the pink ring of flesh around her nipple. Erect nipples stood in the center of that pink, and now he covered them with his hand, pinching the nipple between two fingers. The flesh was cool and smooth.
Dale lifted her torso, forcing his hand harder against her tit, and he gave it a light squeeze. Then he eased up and moved his hand lightly back and forth, letting only the nipple come in contact with his fingers, which were tightly together, forming ridges for the nipple to touch. He had learned that a long time ago, in the back seat of his car, and then it had driven girls crazy. Dale seemed to be enjoying it. Her breathing was becoming heavy, and from time to time, while they kissed and he caressed the nipple, he could hear satisifed noises from deep in her throat.
He switched nipples now, and Dale turned over the hand that rested on his cock. She moved it gently up and down, and Steve wished that his trousers were not in the way. She removed that obstacle quickly, however; his fly was unzipped and her hand was inside his shorts almost before he realized it.
Dale stopped kissing for a moment. "I can't hold your cock the way I'd like to," she said. "Take your shoes off and lie back."
She sat up to let him untie the shoes and kick them off, and then she practically lunged at him, throwing him back while she climbed onto his chest and her hand slipped down into his pants once more.
He found it difficult to continue caressing her tits, so he slipped his hand down to her knee, squeezed the flesh just above it, and moved upward. His eyes were closed as she kissed him and her hair flowed over his face, but he could feel as his hands crept under the skirt and continued up the smooth thigh. In a moment he touched her panties at the crotch, and found them to be soaking in the juice from her cunt. He rubbed the cunt up and down a few times while Dale moaned quietly, and then he moved up, touching the top of the panties, lifting the elastic, probing one finger underneath.
Her hand was still active inside his pants. Her nimble fingers ran up and down his prick, on top, underneath, on one side and then the other. Her fingertips touched his balls and the innermost part of his thighs; then she cupped his balls and let her ringers touch behind them, almost to the crack of his ass. He squirmed and fought hard to maintain control.
Dale rolled off him for a moment. "Do you think our clothes are getting in the way?" she asked in mock innocence.
Steve found it hard to refrain from leering while he said, "Yes, definitely."
"Do you think that we should take them off then?" Once again her voice was that of a sweet innocent.
"I think that would be a good idea," Steve re-plied.
"Good!" Dale, almost shouted, and in an instant ;he was on her feet: The blouse flew across the room; in one motion the skirt and panties were around her ankles. She stepped out of them.
Steve thought that he had never seen such beauty. Her breasts, standing proudly, were naked perfection. Her waist, hips, and thighs were smooth curves. But most startling was her shaved pussy, smooth flesh with a moist slit that glistened in the Light from the bedroom lamp.
"Do you like it?" she asked, and she twirled to give him a glimpse of the rounded globes of her ass.
"It's incredible," he breathed, barely able to get gut the words. "I've never seen anything like that, except on girl babies, of course, and they don't count. I never knew that women shaved there."
Dale laughed lightly. "Most women don't, but I thought that it might be nice to try. And it's very cool in the summertime; makes me feel very free. Do you think it makes me look sexier?"
"I would have thought that nothing could improve on a body like yours, but I must admit that it's striking. But wait. Let me take my clothes off and then I'll have a better look.
Dale grinned. "I was going to ask if you liked eating, but I guess I shouldn't have worried. Do you eat Mindy?"
"Naturally," he said as he began to take off his shirt and undershirt, and it was true. That had been one more reason that he had married Mindy: the first time he had tried eating her cunt she had come in a few seconds, and with an intensity that had astonished him. And when he had started fucking her just afterwards, she had come twice more in the space of several minutes. They had set the wedding date that night.
"Does she like it when you eat her?" Dale went on.
"She probably likes it more than anything else, except actually fucking. Sometimes 'l think that it's a toss-up between the two."
"That's just fine. But one more thing. ..." Dale paused.
Steve, his trousers now draped across a chair, had been bending down to remove his socks. He stopped and looked up at her.
Dale asked, "Do you think that she'd like eating a woman's cunt? Mine, for instance? And would she like me to eat her?"
Steve sat up straight. "What is this, anyway? Next you'll ask if I'd like to suck your husband's cock."
Dale shook her head. "Don't worry. I'm sure that Ed wouldn't think much of that idea either. But what about Mindy? Has she ever said that the idea disgusts her? Even if she's never tried it, as long as she's willing to give it a go it'll be okay. And once she does it I'm sure she'll find it enjoyable. I know that I did."
Steve waited before replying. "She's never said anything against it, and now that you mention it, it reminds me of something she said a few weeks ago. I brought home some pictures of a set we're using in the magazine next month, and she said that the model -- really a beautiful woman -- looked as if she'd be great in bed, for either a man or a woman. Well, I'd heard that the model was a lesbian, and I said so, and Mindy said that, she could understand what women saw in her. Say, you don't think my wife might be a latent lesbian, do you?"
Dale just s smiled. "I doubt it, if that's the only sign she's ever given of it. And look at me. While I enjoy the taste of a good cunt, I like the taste of a hard cock a lot more. And there's no way to duplicate the feel of a cock inside my pussy, except with a dildo, and a real cock is so much better. So don't worry. And if I ask Mindy and she agrees to make it with me, it won't mean anything. She'll probably become a better lay because of it."
Steve stood by the side of the bed and Dale fell to her knees in front of him. She took his cock in both hands and pulled the skin back off the head of it. With half-closed eyes she leaned forward and touched the prick to her lips. Her tongue darted out, circled the tip before withdrawing back into her mouth, and then her lips parted. Slowly, very slowly, she let the cock enter her mouth without allowing it to touch any part of her tongue or lips.
Steve, watching his cock disappear inside her mouth, fought to keep from coming before the proper time. He watched as his cock sank in without touching, and he longed for her lips to close so that he could feel the wet warmth of her mouth. But even so, he could still feel her warm breath.
"You like that?" Dale asked. Steve nodded. "Want me to do some more?" Steve nodded once again. "Do you want me to suck on it?"
"Yes!" Steve shouted, not caring who could hear his voice. "Start sucking before I climb the walls!"
Dale looked up at him and laughed. "That's what I'm trying to make you do. But don't worry. You'll have a chance to do the same to me."
She continued to play with his cock, teasing him, not letting his prick feel the total wetness and warmth of her mouth. Steve, no longer able to control himself, grabbed her head in both hands and forced his cock to sink inside all the way. Immediately she closed her mouth and began to suck.
Steve moved her head back and forth and Dale seemed to be letting him do it. He could feel her tongue running over, under and around his cock in-side her mouth, and he could watch as well as feel her lips as they moved over the slick flesh of his shaft. She sucked very hard every time he moved her head away and he could feel the suction too.
His cock felt bigger with each stroke, and now, when her mouth was at the tip, he could see that the head of his cock was bulging and a deep purple. It was quickly hidden from view as her lips traveled down and the prick was absorbed into her mouth once more.
Steve did not want to come just yet, but he knew that if she continued sucking for just a few seconds longer he would have no choice. If he were going to put a stop to it, it would have to be now.
An instant later it was too late. He felt his body gripped by the mounting orgasm, he shut his eyes tightly, and shoved his cock in her mouth as deeply as he could make it go. He felt her tongue, still moving quickly over, under, and around his cock, and then the first burst of come shot from his cock into her mouth. Dale began to suck harder and more furiously as the come poured out, and Steve felt the room spinning and thought he would collapse. There was a final jet of come shot from his prick into Dale's mouth. Then it was over.
Dale sucked on his cock once more, then let it slide out as he stepped backwards and sank down onto the bed. His eyes were still closed and his body as exhausted as at the end of a mile run. His breath was coming in pants.
"I take it you liked it," Dale was saying as he opened his eyes and saw her looking down at him. A trickle of come was running down her chin and she wiped it off with the back of her hand, which she then licked.
"Wow!" Steve said after he had gotten back his breath. 'That was ... that was ... just incredible!"
"See what you've been missing all these years?" Dale bent down and kissed his prick. "Why don't you relax for a few minutes? You smoke, don't you? Have a cigarette."
Steve reached for his cigarettes in his shirt with weak hands.
"It's your turn to do it to me," Dale said when Steve had finished his cigarette and had crushed it out in the ashtray. He felt stronger now, but he was sure it would take at least a day to recover from the tremendous blowjob he had just received.
Rolling over to face her, Steve said, "You asked me what I liked, and you seem to have discovered it. So what about you?"
"First, in case you were wondering, the underside of your prick, just beneath the tip, seems to be the most sensitive. I could feel your prick jumping inside my mouth every time I licked there. And as for my-self, I like it best if you touch or lick the right side of my clit. There and right at the opening of my box, along both sides, the front and the back. But actually, almost anyplace feels good -- those spots make me quiver, though."
"Good enough, I'll do it there," Steve said, and he went to work. He did not move to her cunt at first, although he longed to lick and taste it; instead he made her lie back, her arms stretched out, her legs parted. He leaned down and flicked his tongue at one of her nipples.
Steve had the feeling that it was a sort of test: if he passed it he would fuck Dale again, perhaps many times, but if he didn't prove that he was a good lover he might never get another chance. He wanted to make sure that he drove her wild.
The lessons learned in the back seat of his car would serve him well now. He remembered one girl who wouldn't let him fuck her, but who had no objection to letting him strip her and kiss her all over, provided he kept his clothes on. Sandi had been her name, he recalled, and he smiled when he thought of how, after just ten minutes of his licks and nibbles, she had begged him to fuck. He had never got-ten a chance to, however, because just at that instant a police car had driven up and they had both narrowly avoided being arrested. She refused to go out with him after that.
But now, with Dale, there was no chance of the police arriving. He thought briefly of the other people in the living room, but he knew that Dale's husband was ensuring that they were left alone. Now he just had to duplicate his feat, and then Dale would be willing to fuck whenever he wanted.
The nipple had grown more erect and rigid under his tongue, and he moved to the other tit slowly, letting his tongue dangle down into the valley between the breasts. He circled the nipple once, almost touched it with his tongue, but reconsidered. Moving his tongue in widening circles, he licked around the nipple and all over the breast.
He could hear Dale's breath coming harder and faster and knew that he was almost in control. His confidence gained, and he moved from the breast to her arm. Up and down he licked, pausing to titillate the inside of her elbow, and then quickly he licked up to her breast and popped the nipple into his mouth.
He held it between his lips while his tongue flicked at the tip, faster and faster. He sucked it in and let it out, still maintaining the flicking with his tongue, and now he brought his hands into play.
He started at her hip and let his fingers trail gently and slowly up her side. He brought it over her other breast and drew little circles on her skin and then moved up to her neck, at the junction with her shoulders, where he drew more circles, and finally up to her ear, where he fondled the lobe.
He could feel her body squirming now and began to lick lower. He placed the other hand on the other side of her neck, and as he moved his head and licking tongue downward he let his hands fall to her breasts.
At her belly button he paused. The waiting cunt was only inches away, but he forced himself to continue to move slowly to make her wait for the feel of his tongue on her pussy. He darted his tongue in and out of her button and was gratified when she pushed it up against his face.
Lower now. Over the flatness of her belly. It was still tanned here, but the line of white untanned skin was only half an inch away. Now he crossed that boundary, and the flesh seemed still smoother. He licked lower. He could smell the aroma of her cunt and he longed to mash his lips against it and inhale the aroma full strength, but he still managed to hold back. Slowly, ever more slowly now, he moved closer.
Almost to the top of the slit of her cunt, he stopped and planted a wet kiss. Suddenly, Dale raised her hips, apparently hoping to force his cunt against him, but he was too quick. He pulled away just in time and looked at her cunt, poised in midair, lifted off the bed. He knew now that he was in complete control.
"Why don't you relax a little, Dale?" he said, enjoying it thoroughly. "You're acting as if you're very tense."
"Of course I'm tense," she said between breaths. "Would you please start eating me?"
From her voice Steve knew that she was at his mercy, and he decided to tease her a little more. After saying, "We don't want to rush things," he started to kiss the inside of her thighs, starting near her cunt, progressing to the knee, and then back again. Now the other leg, the same way. His hands had slipped from her breasts to her belly, and now he moved them around under her ass, lifting it.
As he approached her pussy once more he felt his cock begin to stir. He had thought that he had nothing left after her sucking, but he was recuperating faster than he had thought possible. He now looked forward to fucking her after he made her come while he ate her.
Finished with the thigh, he now held his head directly above her cunt. He had never looked at a cunt this closely before; hair had always hidden everything except for the slit of the pussy itself. Now he could see the swell of the cunt lips below the rise of her mound, and the tip of her clit as it peeped out from between the fold of the lips. He lowered his head and touched the clit with the very tip of his tongue.
Dale responded instantly. She lifted her cunt even higher, straining to bring it into full contact with his mouth, but once again he pulled back. He slapped her raised ass sharply.
"None of that, now. You're supposed to relax," he said, intentionally making his voice as mocking as possible. "I want ,to have you screaming for mercy before I'm finished."
"You're a sadist," Dale said breathlessly. "Okay, I'm screaming for mercy! Please, please, start eating me or fucking me or something!"
But Steve wanted to wait just a little while longer. He flicked his tongue over her clit once more and then licked over the lips, circling her cunt and lap-ping up the juice which was trickling out and down between her legs. He liked the taste of it, and now decided that it was time to get more.
Spreading her legs wider with one hand, with the other he lifted her ass. The lips of her cunt had spread too, and he could see the wet pink flesh in-side. Quickly he sank his tongue into the hole of her pussy, making her arch her back and gasp, and he scooped out a load of juice, which he swallowed.
The time for fooling and teasing was over now, and he began to eat her in earnest. First the rim of her cunt, just inside the lips, and then up to her clit, swollen, hard, and pink. He fastened his lips around it gently and flicked at it with his tongue as he had done to her nipples. Her breath was coming in gasps now, and she seemed to be straining to lift her cunt even higher.
Now it was time to work where she had said she liked it best. He released the clit from his lips and began to run his tongue in circles around it, wriggling and flicking his tongue over the right side, then encircling it quickly, coming back for more concentrated effort on the spot she loved.
His hand was active too, moving around the out-side of her hole, occasionally probing inside to bring out a fresh load of juice to lubricate it.
He could tell that she was just on the brink. Her gasping was irregular and strained, her hips jerked out of control. Suddenly she shrieked, once, twice, and he mashed his face against her pussy, licking the full length of her cunt as hard and as fast as he could, while her hips bucked wildly and her hands fell on his back and gripped, scratching him with her nails, and she cried out again. He had one more trick, and now he jabbed his thumb into her cunt, moving it furiously inside, feeling the smoothness and wetness of the inside of her cunt, while her whole body heaved upward and she screamed like a woman tortured.
Then she was still.
Steve felt her body go limp and he lifted his head from her cunt. Dale was completely relaxed, her arms thrown out to her sides, her legs still spread wide. Her head was tilted onto her shoulder and a few strands of hair'* re in her mouth.
For a panic-stricken moment Steve thought that she had died of a heart seizure, but then he was reassured by the steady rise and fall of her breasts. A moment later her eyelids fluttered and she rolled her head from her shoulder.
"What ... what happened? Did I pass out?" she asked, her voice just a whisper.
"I think so. You gave me a scare for a moment."
"And you gave me ... it was tremendous! Oh, you wonderful, wonderful cunt eater! You wonderful, wonderful man!" She sprung up to a sitting position and kissed him warmly. 'I've never felt any-thing like that!" she exclaimed.
Her arm dropped and brushed against his prick, now fully erect. She looked at him questioningly. "Do you want to fuck now?" Steve asked.
Dale sighed. "I'd love to, but I don't think we have the strength. I don't, anyway."
"How about later, after the party?"
"That'll be perfect. But maybe now we should get dressed and go outside."
Steve agreed. They dressed quickly, and, after a lingering kiss standing by the door, they walked back to the living room.
No one seemed to have missed them. There were no strange looks, no questioning glances. Steve went to get two drinks and saw, at a sign from Dale, his wife Mindy and Dale's husband Ed rise and go to the bedroom.
CHAPTER FOUR
A few minutes after nine on Monday morning, Mindy White opened her eyes, yawned, and looked at the bedroom clock. It was still early for her to get up, so she lay bed, thinking about how her life had been changed by the past weekend.
It had all begun at the party. She had been talking to Dale Simmons, joined shortly by Ed, and somehow the idea of swapping mates had come up. She had pretended to be shocked by it, but in truth the idea had excited her. Finally, after a show of reluctance, she had agreed, and once Ed had discussed it with Steve it was settled.
Steve had left for work already, but Mindy thought back to his description of his time in the bedroom with Dale. How she had sucked him off, how he had eaten her, the secret places in which she liked to be touched and licked. That information would soon be useful to her.
Hearing about Dale had excited her, and now, just thinking about it once more made her twist her
naked body under the sheets, made her squirm and squeeze her thighs together.
After Dale and Steve had returned to the living room, she, Mindy, had gone to the bedroom with Ed. And that had been good, probably the best fuck she had ever had, for Ed's prick was enormous, and just the sight of it had made her panties wet at the crotch. And the second time they fucked had been just as good, especially since she knew that at that very instant her husband was also fucking Dale, the other couples having left. But what had happened in the time between the two fuckings was the very most exciting thing.
When she and Ed had finished and dressed that first time and were once more in the living room, Dale had been the first to speak to her.
"Did you enjoy it?" Dale had asked.
"Yes, I did," Mindy had said, . her breath still coming heavy and fast. "Your husband is a tremendous lover."
"Yes, he's okay, and your husband's not bad either, Mindy. But I've been wondering about. some-thing. Tell me, do you like my body?"
Mindy had looked away for a moment, embarrassed, .but as she did so her eyes caught a glimpse of Dale's breasts, braless under the blouse, with her nipples protruding. She had flushed, not so much from the embarrassment of the question, but because the answer to it was yes.
Dale had kept after her. "I can tell you that I like your body very much. In fact, I'd. like to get to know it better. I'd like to hold your bare breasts in my hand, to kiss them. I'd like to race my fingers up and down your spine, inside your thighs, over your belly. I'd like to make love to you. Would you like to make love to me?"
Mindy's answer had been in a whisper. "Yes, I would."
"That's all I wanted to know. We'll talk about it more later on, but first I think Barry will want to say a few things."
Feeling confused, Mindy had watched Dale walk away, swinging her hips. She had begun to talk to Barry, and Mindy wondered what they could be saying. Was it something about her? Something about her wanting to make love to Dale?
But then Barry had risen, and he rapped on the table to gain everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, in a voice entirely different from his normal one, "I think you all, with the exception of Steve and Mindy, know what I am about to say. So it is time to ask if there are any objections."
Barry looked around the room, but there was no response from anyone. Mindy had no idea what was happening, and she looked at Steve for an answer, but he just shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment.
"Very well," Barry had gone on. "Seeing that there is no objection, it is time to tell Steve and Mindy what this is all about, so that they can decide whether they want to become a part of it."
Mindy was still confused, but the felt better when Dale came over and sat next to her. "Don't be shocked, Mindy," Dale had whispered. "I think you'll like what Barry is going to invite you to do."
Barry had then explained the . swapping club. When he said that every person there was a member of it, Mindy had looked around, searching everyone's face, wondering how she had not even suspected it before.
"Ed and Dale have given good reports about you two," Barry had said, "so we are all agreed that you may join, if you like. You have a week to think it over. If you want to join then all you have to do is come to our party next week. Of course, there is one more thing you ought to know."
Barry had paused and looked around the room slowly. Mindy was unsure then whether she wanted to join or not, but she saw her husband looking extremely pleased, and when Dale had patted her hand and whispered, "You will do it, won't you?" she had whispered back, "Yes."
But then had come the sour note of the evening. "We are all," Barry had said slowly, measuring each word before he spoke, "being blackmailed."
Mindy had gasped; she heard her husband gasp also. Dale tightened her grip on her hand.
Barry continued, "We are all being blackmailed, twenty-five dollars per couple per week, by someone who says he has pictures of us in what we might call compromising positions. This all started this past week, when we received almost identical letters. The payments will apparently not begin for another couple of weeks -- why, I don't know, but those were the terms. We discussed it tonight, while you two were otherwise occupied, and we have decided to continue to have our parties, while doing everything in our power to discover who it is."
Mindy remembered the men gathering in one corner and discussing something. It was while Steve was in fucking Dale, and Sharon and Nancy had been talking to her, keeping her, it had seemed, effectively isolated and unable to hear what the men were saying. Now she understood why.
"We don't know whether you two will receive letters also, but we'll take steps to make sure that there's no way for any pictures to be taken in the future, if any pictures have, in fact, been taken in the past. So that's the story. Now you two can think about it."
Well, Mindy thought, throwing back the sheets to uncover her naked body, that almost made us decide against it. But it's a good thing Ed and Dale finally talked us into it. If it wasn't for that, I probably wouldn't be going over to see Dale this afternoon.
Dale's invitation had come Sunday morning, just as she and Steve were getting ready to go home. "Would you like to come over tomorrow afternoon to talk more about making love to each other?" Dale had asked in a low whisper, and Mindy did not have to think before replying that she would.
And now, in less than four hours, she would be at Dale's house, possibly already in her bed, perhaps even with Dale's tongue in her cunt while she did the same. The thought thrilled Mindy, and she let her hands roam over her body, pausing at her breasts and then at her crotch.
She remembered something else Steve had told her: Dale had a shaved pussy. Steve had been excited by it, and now Mindy thought that she would be, too. In fact, why not shave her own? Now that was an idea.
Mindy looked at herself in the full-length mirror. The patch of dark hair covering her cunt looked al-most ugly, although she had never thought of it like that before. Why not shave it off?
Mindy walked to the bathroom and took out her electric razor. She still had not yet completely decided whether or not to shave her pussy, but, at any rate, she had to shave her legs. She sat on a towel on the edge of the tub and clicked the switch of the razor to on. It buzzed, and when she touched it to her leg she could hear the ticking as it sliced off the short hairs.
And why not my cunt? she thought. Nobody's going to know unless they see me naked, and I'm certainly not going to take off my clothes in the street. Why not?
She thought suddenly of the party next Saturday. She and Steve would be going, and there everyone would see her naked and hairless. But Dale had done it; she hadn't let that stop her.
So what the hell!
She brought the razor around to her belly and began to shave it from the top of the triangle down. The hair was more wiry than on her legs, and the razor had to struggle to make each tick! when it cut off another hair. But she did it slowly, moving the razor back and forth across her lower belly, a strip at a time. After a minute, having shaved off an inch, she shut off the razor and felt the smooth skin with the tip of her finger. She was amazed by the sensations. The skin was smooth as it had never been before. And she could actually feel the tip of the finger instead of it brushing over a mat of hair. She wondered what it would be like to have Dale's fingertip in that spot.
She continued to shave her cunt, moving lower and lower, spreading her thighs wide to get every hair in her crotch. Finished at last, she ran the razor over her skin one more time to be sure, and then she stood and brushed away the hair. She ran to the bedroom to get a look in the mirror.
It looked so strange: no dark triangle of hair covering her cunt, just bare flesh from where the hair on her head stopped at her shoulders all the way down to her feet. Just bare, smooth flesh.
Still standing before the mirror, she ran her hands down her body, starting at her breasts, down to her hips, over her belly down between her legs, cupping the flesh of her cunt and letting one finger trail in the slit. The flesh around her cunt tingled from her touch.
Mindy glanced at the clock and saw that it was getting late. She had wasted an hour and a half dreaming about the weekend and shaving her cunt, and now she had to hurry to do the shopping before going to see Dale:-!She quickly dressed and ran out to the store.
It was exactly one o'clock when Mindy walked up the flagstone walk to Dale's house. She was wearing a tight sweater, no bra, the silkiest, flimsiest panties she owned, and the shortest skirt. Her body still felt fresh from the shower and then the bath in the lilac-scented water, and she had discovered that her bare cunt could feel every vagrant breeze through the silk panties. She decided that her body had never felt as free.
Dale opened the door clad only in a thin black negligee and brief panties. Mindy sucked in her breath when she saw the outline of her breasts through the fabric, and she could barely restrain herself from pushing her head down between the tits and kissing them. All that prevented her from doing that right on the doorstep was the knowledge that soon she would be able to touch the white globes as much as she pleased.
After an awkward moment, when Dale must have known that she was staring at her tits, Dale said in a breathless voice, "Come in and sit down. You look warm. Let's sit down and have a cool drink."
Mindy thought that she was intoxicated enough by the sight of Dale's as-good-as-nude body, but she politely consented. She sat on the living room couch and crossed her legs while Dale shook two martinis.
"We have the whole afternoon, so we might as well relax for a while," Dale said as she handed Mindy the drink and sat down beside her, only a few inches away. "I think we should really get to know each other better. Tell me, how old are you?"
Mindy sipped on her drink and let the tangy gin burn down her throat. "Twenty-three," she said.
"Ah, you're a year older than me, then."
"You mean that you're just twenty-two? I thought -- well, you look young,, of course, maybe even younger than that. But from what Steve said ... ."
"So Steve talked about me, did he?" Dale laughed. "Did he tell you everything about what we did in bed?"
"Yes, he did. And he said that you knew more about fucking and everything else than any woman he thought he'd ever meet."
Dale laughed again. "I try hard. I like learning about new ways to screw. But some of the other women in the group are much better than me. I'm really only a beginner."
"If you're only a beginner, than what am I?" Mindy was beginning to worry that she wasn't experienced enough to make it in the group.
"I wouldn't trouble yourself over that," Dale said. "Ed told me that you had the right spirit and that all you needed was to learn a few tricks. You'll pick it up fast enough once you start coming to the par-ties regularly. How long have you been fucking?"
Mindy blushed. "Not very long, I'm afraid," she said. "Steve was the first guy I ever slept with. That was less than three years ago. And your husband was only the second guy I've slept with. Does that make me a complete amateur?"
"No. I've only been fucking a little over two years myself. Ed was my first. Of course, since last year when I decided that I wanted to have a fling or two,' I've fucked quite a. few guys. Quite a few women, too. Did you ever make it with a woman before?"
"No," Mindy said, but she hesitated before saying the word, and her voice lacked conviction.
Dale seemed to have noticed, for she said, with raised eyebrows, "Are you sure? You can tell me, you know. I won't think anything of it."
Mindy took a big swallow of her martini and almost choked on it. Then she said, "Yes, I have made it with a woman before. But promise you won't tell anyone I said that."
Dale leaned back against the couch. "Of course I won't tell anyone. But why don't you give me the whole story? It seems to be bothering you. Maybe it would be better if you talked about it."
"But it was so long ago. And I was so ashamed of myself."
"Ashamed of doing it or ashamed because you enjoyed it?" Dale smiled knowingly.
"I suppose it was because I liked it."
"I can understand that. But tell me about it."
Mindy looked at Dale closely, still unsure whether she should come out with the story. It had been so long ago, and there had been so many nights when she had thought about it, lying in bed, feeling ashamed because she had loved it so much and wanted to do it again.
And now here was her chance to repeat that, with a girl who was so much better than the other woman had been.
Dale said, "I'd really like to hear about it, you know."
Mindy decided. "Okay, I'll tell you. But you have to swear you'll never tell anyone else, no one in the world."
"I swear it."
"I believe you." Mindy paused, trying to think how to begin. At the beginning, of course, she told herself, and so she started:
"I'd just turned fifteen the day before, and my parents gave me a new wristwatch. It was during vacation from school, and early in the morning I" went to my girlfriend's house to show her my watch. Her name was Susie. We'd really been close at one time, but lately she'd been going out with her boy-friend a lot, so I hadn't seen much of her. But I wanted to show her the watch, because I was really excited about it, but then when I got there her mother told me that she'd gone to the beach with her boyfriend.
"I didn't know her mother. so well. She worked, I think, and I still don't know why she wasn't at work that day. She was younger than my mother; she couldn't have been more than thirty-five or so. Anyway, I was about to turn around and "go back home when she invited me into the house to have a soda.
"We started talking. I was just trying to be polite and answer the questions she asked me about school, and then suddenly told me to call her by her first name.
"So I called her Laura, even though it seemed very strange to do it. Well, after a few minutes she said that she had a necklace which she didn't-want, and Susie didn't want either, and how would I like to have it? She brought me in the bedroom t have a look at it.
"The necklace was beautiful. I couldn't under-stand why she didn't want it, but I knew that I did. She put it around my neck, brushing back my hair to clasp it, and then she made me unbutton my blouse a little to let it hang down.
"Before I knew it she had her hands on my chest, fondling the necklace, saying how beautiful it looked on me, but then I realized that her fingers were down underneath my bra/ and she was touching my tits. I was too scared to do anything, so I let her do it, and all the time she was saying how pretty I was and how good the necklace looked.
"Finally she said, 'I'll bet your breasts are beautiful too. May I look at them?'
"I was scared .as hell and I wanted to run out-of there, but before I could move she had unbuttoned my blouse and pulled my bra up to around my neck and was kissing my tits. It felt like nothing I'd ever known before. I mean, I'd let guys touch them, through my blouse and bra, but I'd never felt anyone kissing the nipples and sucking on them the way she was doing.
"Before I really knew what was happening she had pushed me down on the bed and was unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans, and then a minute later I was completely naked and she was saying what a beautiful young body I had and how pretty my pussy was. I couldn't answer, I was breathing too hard, and even though I wanted to run away I couldn't do it with no clothes on. So I just lay there and then she took off all her clothes and made me kiss her tits. They were big, so much bigger than mine, and they smelled like perfume.
"Then she made me touch her pussy and I felt that it was soaking wet. She made me put my finger inside and it sank in all the way as far as I could push it.
"She started moaning then, grinding her box against my hand getting it all covered with wetness, and she started rubbing my cunt, making me get all wet too.
"I'd tried masturbating before, but it had never felt quite so good as when she was doing it. She tried to stick her finger in, but it hurt, so she stopped. Then she bent down and began to kiss my legs, and she told me to do the same. I did it.
"Pretty soon she had climbed on top of me, shoving her box against my face, and I didn't need her to tell me what to do. I licked it, just like she was doing to me, and I found that I really liked the taste of it once I got used to it.
"Well, she came and she nearly smothered me by mashing her cunt against my face, and then she rolled off. She could tell that I hadn't come yet. In fact, I'd never come in my life, up to that morning. She licked my cunt all over and rubbed it with her fingers, still trying to stick them inside, and then she started feeling around my ass, too.
"I came, finally, and it felt like-the whole world was exploding. I couldn't move for a long time, but she kept on licking my cunt, and then she made me do it to her again. All I could think of was how. good it had felt when I came, and, in fact, I never felt anything like it again until the first time Steve ate me out. But I didn't come again that morning; she made me lick and suck on her pussy until she got her rocks off once more, and then she called me a nasty child and told me to go home.
"She slapped me a couple of times while I was getting dressed, a slap or two across my face and once across my tits, which hurt like hell, and she said that if I told anyone about it she'd beat me up and have me thrown in jail for being a delinquent. I believed her, and, I was so ashamed that I wasn't about to tell anyone, anyway.
"I never spoke to her again. I stopped hanging around with Susie, and every time I saw Laura on the street I'd run away and hide. She didn't give me the necklace either."
Mindy stopped and took a deep breath, glad to get the story out at last. She had thought about it many times, often late at night when she would rub her cunt and try to remember how it had felt when Laura's smooth lips and tongue had been in her cunt, licking, sucking, and lapping. Now it was a relief to have told someone.
Dale had sat still throughout the story, sipping slowly on her drink, occasionally raising an eyebrow or nodding, but saying nothing. Now Dale let her hand rest on Mindy's knee as she said, "So you never tried it again after that. But did you want to?"
"Oh, yes," Mindy almost sobbed, "I wanted to more than anything. But I was scared."
"You don't have to be scared anymore." Dale slowly slid her hand to the hem of Mindy's skirt. "You realize that you got me all excited telling me that," she said. "Would you like to find out just how excited?"
Mindy nodded her head, and Dale picked up her hand and pushed it between her legs. "Feel how wet I am," Dale said, and Mindy touched the black silk panties that were damp and slippery where they pressed against her cunt. "And how about you? Are you wet?" Dale went on, and her hand slid under the skirt to Mindy's crotch. Mindy could feel the fingers rubbing back and forth over her cunt, and she wished that she had not worn the panties, flimsy though they were. "Yes, you're wet too," Dale announced, but then she removed her hand and stood up, forcing Mindy to lose contact with her cunt.
"Shall we do it here or in the bedroom?" Dale asked.
"In the bedroom, I think," Mindy replied.
Dale smiled. It was almost a leer. "I have a very nice necklace, if you'd like to see it. Or don't you want to act it out again?"
Mindy hesitated. It was a strong temptation to act like the little girl she had once been and let Dale take the part of Susie's mother, staging the whole scene once more. But she shook her head. "No, that's not necessary. I've relived it enough."
"Very well," Dale said, and she took her hand, pulled her to her feet, and led her into the bedroom.
"I'd like to see you undress," Dale said once they were inside the room. She sank into an armchair in the corner. "Kick off your shoes and stand on the bed so I can get a better look," she ordered.
Mindy complied. She slipped out of her high heels and climbed onto the bed, and then looked down at Dale to find out what she should do next.
"Take your clothes off now. Slowly," Dale said.
Mindy felt slightly embarrassed to be ordered about in that manner, but she did as she was told. She grabbed the bottom of her sweater and began to lift it over her head.
"Not so fast," Dale said. "Do it slowly, easily. I want to have time to enjoy it. And when you're finished I'll do the same for you."
Mindy lifted the sweater, more slowly now, and she could almost feel Dale's eyes on her as she lifted the sweater above hey breasts. She began to get the feel of it now, and she purposely made her breasts jiggle as she pulled the sweater over her head and off.
"You have nice tits. Very nice tits," Dale said.
"Thank you," Mindy murmured, and now she unhooked her skirt. Then the zipper, and now she eased it down over her hips and thighs. A moment later she had stepped out of it and stood almost naked, letting her breasts stand freely, watching - Dale look at the curve of her cunt.
"Do you like it so far?" Mindy asked.
"Yes, very ,much," Dale replied. "Now the panties."
Mindy decided to take her time. She wondered what Dale would say when she saw her shaved pussy, and she wondered if she would like it. Surely she would; her own pussy was shaved too.
Gently, very gently, Mindy slid her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and began to pull them down, an inch at a time. They were almost to where her pussy hair would be now, and she paused. She looked at Dale and saw her breathing heavily, while one hand caressed her own thigh halfway above the knee.
Mindy slid the panties lower, and now she bent down to obstruct Dale's view. She saw Dale lean for-ward to get a better look.
Mindy's cunt was exposed now, but she knew that Dale could not see it. She bent over even further and pulled the panties all the way down, stepping out of them, and then she straightened up suddenly.
Dale's eyes widened. She drew her breath in quickly. "You've shaved your cunt," she said almost in a whisper.
"Yes, I have," Mindy said. "Just the same as you. Steve told me about it. Do you like it?" She spread her legs apart to let Dale see her bare pussy better.
"Yes, I like it a lot. You have a very beautiful cunt. May I kiss it?"
"Yes, you may," she whispered.
Dale stood up and walked to the bed. Mindy moved to the edge and watched Dale come closer to her cunt, and in a moment she could feel Dale's warm breath as her head got closer and closer. And then her warm moist lips were on her cunt, and her tongue darted out, licking the very top, where the cunt lips met in her fleshy mound, while Dale's hands slipped around to her ass and nimbly patted and stroked her flesh. Mindy stepped back.
"It's your turn to undress now," she said. She climbed off the bed and sat in the chair while Dale climbed up.
She almost wished that Dale had more clothes on so that she could enjoy her taking them off longer. But Dale compensated for quantity with quality.
First Dale twirled around, making her short negligee flare out around. her hips, giving Mindy a glimpse of her black panties and the swell of the mound of her cunt underneath. Then, standing facing Mindy, she pulled the negligee tight against her tits, making the nipples show plainly through the sheer fabric.
She lifted the negligee with one hand, while with the other she pulled up the panties. The crotch of the panties was pulled tight into her cunt, letting the cunt lips peep out around it, and she turned around, letting Mindy see her bare ass, where the panties had disappeared into the crack.
Mindy wished that she could touch her now, but she made herself wait. There would be enough time later to touch and fondle Dale's naked ass, cunt and tits, and to suck and lick them too.
Dale let the negligee fall down over the panties, and then she began t- take them off. Mindy could see the black panties slipping down under the negligee, but though she looked as hard as she could she could not get a clear look at Dale's cunt. Still, she could see the white flesh of her crotch, untanned, and it looked all the more naked for being covered.
Dale took the panties off completely and tossed them across the room to Mindy. "Feel how wet they are," Dale said.
Mindy touched the crotch, soaking wet, and then sniffed it. It had a warm female smell, with a trace of sweet perfume, and Mindy touched it to her lips and kissed it gently. Then she let her tongue dart out to lick it, but was unable to get a good taste. She looked up to Dale's cunt hungrily.
Dale's cunt was covered by her hand under the negligee. Mindy could see the hand sawing back and forth in her cunt, and Dale's eyes were closed as she played with herself.
Mindy stood up. "Let me do it," she said.
Dale opened her eyes and shook her head. "No, wait. You'll get your chance."
"Then hurry up. You're getting me horny as hell."
"That's the general idea," Dale laughed, but she stopped rubbing her cunt and instead began to touch her tits, pinching the nipples through the fabric.
Mindy knew that she could stand no more. She lunged up onto the bed, nearly knocking Dale over, and with a quick swipe she tore the negligee off and bared Dale's naked body. Tossing the negligee on the floor, she pulled Dale down on the bed and buried her face in her cunt.
Holding Dale's legs far apart, she mashed her face against her smooth flesh. She licked it, tasting the fragrant fluid that oozed from the slit, and she shifted to let Dale get at her cunt too.
When she felt Dale's tongue penetrate she spread her thighs wide to give her room. Her toes grasped at both sides of the bed as she forced her legs to part as far as possible. Dale took advantage of her position, and Mindy could feel the flat of Dale's tongue lap-ping at her cunt from end to end, making her flesh tingle and swell.
Mindy remembered what Steve had said, and now she concentrated on the spots that gave Dale the most pleasure. She darted her tongue in and out of her mouth, making the tip of it just come in contact with the right side of Dale's clit. She spiced the tiny licks with quick turns of her tongue around the whole clit and then down into the wet slit of the cunt, where the flesh was pink, warm and tasty.
Dale was moaning as her tongue lapped at Mindy's cunt, long deep moans from her throat that made Mindy even more excited when she heard them.
Then Mindy realized that she was moaning too. The tickling feeling in her cunt was rising to overwhelm her whole body, forcing out the moans, beyond control. Suddenly she realized that Dale had stopped licking.
Mindy paused too, her mouth poised above Dale's cunt, and she awed, "What's the matter? Why are you stopping?"
Dale's words came out between her deep breaths. "I thought we were going too fast. Why don't we rest and relax? We'll enjoy it more."
Mindy could feel the aching of her cunt receding for the moment. "Okay, we'll rest. But just for a moment."
They sat up and Mindy switched around to be near Dale. The other woman rested her hand on her thigh while they talked.
Dale said, "Has anyone told you what will happen at the party next week? Happen to you and Steve, I mean."
"No, no one's said a word."
"Ah, they were going to surprise you. Well, there's no harm in letting you in on it. What's going to happen is that you'll be on the floor with all four of the men, all at once. You'll have to satisfy them one way or another."
Mindy was taken aback. "Do you mean satisfy them all at the same time? How? I only have one cunt."
"You have a mouth, don't you? Plus your hands and your ass. You can find a way."
"But ... but I've never had a guy come in my mouth. And no one's ever been into my ass, and if I have anything to say about it no one will."
"Well, I don't care for that myself," Dale said. "Carol does, though. When she was initiated she had every guy fuck her there, one after the other, and at the end she had a guy coming in her mouth, her cunt, and her ass, all at once. But as for coming in your mouth, it's nothing. You can't really taste it -- it just slides down your throat without you noticing. Try it with Steve sometime this week. He'll like it, anyway."
"He told me about that."
"I thought he might have." Dale took a deep breath and turned toward Mindy. "Well, are you ready to go to it again?"
"I've been ready the whole time. I was just waiting for you."
They began to make love again, but more easily and gently now. They kissed, and Mindy let Dale probe her mouth with her tongue and then returned the kiss. Dale's mouth was warm and soft, and her breath was sweet, although Mindy could taste a little of her own cunt juice around Dale's mouth. But she enjoyed the taste, and she knew that Dale was tasting her own juice too.
Dale's hand went to Mindy's tit and rubbed the nipple. Mindy did likewise, cupping the tit in her hand, weighing it, and pinching the nipple between her fingers. Dale's nipple was hard and rigid, yet still soft to the gentle touch, and Mindy wished she could go on kissing her and feeling her tits forever.
It was Dale who broke the deep kiss, but she immediately began kissing once again, this time on Mindy's breast. Mindy felt her tongue, smooth and wet, running in circles around her tit, occasionally dipping lower, almost to her belly.
They were both still sitting, but then Dale pulled Mindy down. They held each other's bodies close while they kissed and fondled breasts and bellies, necks and arms. Dale pushed her thigh through Mindy's and both rubbed the other woman's cunt.
Mindy could feel the wetness on her thigh where it touched Dale's pussy, as well as the growing wetness between her own legs, where Dale was rubbing vigorously.
It was Dale, again taking the lead, who first began to eat cunt, but Mindy followed shortly. Once again they licked and lapped, sucked and nibbled, tasting and enjoying each other's cunts.
And Dale moaned, louder and louder, while her hips thrashed and her cunt bucked and squirmed against Mindy's face. And Mindy, just as hot, was doing the same.
It was all over in a few minutes. They had come almost simultaneously, each one licking and being licked in a frenzy of passion. When at last they had finished and lay on the bed, panting and sweating, giving each other last kisses on the cunt, Mindy asked, "Did you enjoy that as much as I did?"
Dale sighed and stroked Mindy's thigh. "You know I did," she said.
"Kiss me then," said Mindy. "Kiss me hard. I want to love you like this for a long time."
They kissed and their tongues met, mingling the saliva and juice from their cunts.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Cut it out, Fred. I still have my period and a headache besides." Carol turned and rolled on her side away from Fred. She felt the bed shift as he rolled over to face the other way.
In the morning Fred left early, long before Carol awoke. It was almost noon when she finally opened her eyes, and she realized with a start that she had to hurry.
It was Thursday, and in the afternoon she had a rendezvous with her boyfriend. She showered and dressed quickly, then backed the car out of the garage and drove as fast as possible all the way into the city.
Driving across the bridge she glanced at her watch. She was already a few minutes late. "Let the bastard wait then," she said.
A quarter of an hour later, after parking the car and walking five blocks, she let herself into the building with her key. She waited for the elevator, but it seemed to move with incredible slowness, stopping at every floor on the way down, standing still for a minute; then, with a click, a shifting of gears and a hum, it slid down to the next lower floor, where it again stopped. Carol grew impatient, and finally, though the elevator dial showed it only two floors away, she turned away and walked up the stairs. Three flights up, she walked down the narrow corridor to the end apartment.
She had the key to this door too, but rather than use it she rang the bell, two long rings, and called out, "Ronald! Ronald, it's me!"
There was no answer from inside, no answering shout or hurrying footsteps. After another pair of rings she let herself in with the key.
Ronald's breakfast dishes were on the table where he had left them and the cat was perched on the counter asleep. Its ears twitched; it opened its eyes and saw Carol, yawned and stretched in casual acknowledgement of her arrival; then it curled up into a ball of fur and went back to sleep.
"Ronald, are you here?"
The answer was a grunt from the other side of a door leading from the kitchen. Carol walked to the door, put her ear against it, and called out again. This time she could hear him. "I'm working. I'll be finished in a few minutes." Then, "You're late."
"I know," she shouted. "The traffic was terrible. Hurry out of the darkroom."
"I'll be out when I'm finished. Put on some coffee, will you?"
Carol was about to retort that she was neither his servant nor his wife, but she reconsidered and took the coffee pot .from the stove. She emptied the old grounds and rinsed it, filled it with fresh coffee and water and put it up on the stove. By the time it was ready Ronald had opened the darkroom door and was drying his hands on a towel. Behind him the water trickled into the long flat sink with the three plastic trays, the last of which had several prints floating face up. To the right of the sink the washer spun like a miniature water wheel, and beyond that the dryer waited with the cloth covers raised. "Pour it out, Carol," Ronald said. "I just want to put some prints in the dryer and these others into the washer."
"Pour it out?" Carol repeated. "You mean into the sink?"
"No, you fool. Into cups. What did you think I meant?" Ronald turned away scowling.
Carol stuck out her tongue at his back, but then she did as he had said. When it was poured she sat at the table for a minute before getting up to see what Ronald was doing now.
He had placed the prints in the dryer and was rolling them flat. "Can I help?" she asked.
"Get your ass out of here!" Ronald said without turning around. His annoyance showed. "You know I've told you time and time again not to come in here. You're liable to wreck something."
"I just wanted to help." Carol turned to look at the prints in the tray. They were black and white, showing trees and park benches. "What are these?" she asked.
"This guy is doing a magazine article on the park. I'm taking the shots for him. That one on top shows the place where the muggers hang out -- eight muggings in the last month on that spot. Little old ladies sit on the bench and the mugger jumps out of the bushes. But, damnit, I told you to get out of here."
"I'm not hurting anything. I'm just interested in your work, that's all."
"That's a laugh. I thought you were just interested in my cock."
"There's more to you than just your cock."
"True, but I didn't know you knew that. Now get out of here, will you! I'll be finished in a minute."
Carol stuck out her middle finger at him, knowing that he couldn't see her do it. She retreated to the kitchen.
Ronald joined her shortly. He drank the coffee black and lit a cigarette.
"Where should we go for lunch?" Carol asked. "Lunch? I've eaten already. Had a couple of sandwiches an hour ago."
"But don't you remember? We were going to go out to lunch and then we were going to go shopping for my birthday present. We had it all settled the day before yesterday."
"Shit, I forgot all about that," Ronald said. "But look, Carol, I can't go out anywhere. I have to finish these prints. The guy wants them tonight."
"Well, that's a fine thing. You'd rather work on some dumb pictures of a lousy park than go out with me. And to get my birthday present, no less." She snuffled, hoping to gain his sympathy.
"Knock it off, bitch," he said, and he drank more of his coffee. Finally he said, "Okay, we'll go shop-ping. No lunch; though, we won't have time. It'll take me about an hour to dry all the prints, and then we can go."
"An hour? But I'm starved. I haven't eaten all day."
"Make yourself a sandwich. Of course, you can always eat me."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Of course I would. And so would you."
"I'm going to have a sandwich."
"Suit yourself."
Carol made a ham and cheese sandwich, spreading the ham liberally with mustard, and she sat down again to eat it. Mustard squirted out onto her lips and she wiped it away with her finger, then licked it. Still chewing she said, "Aren't you even going to ask me what I've been doing with myself?"
"Playing with yourself, probably. But okay, what have you been doing?"
"Nothing much." She took another bite of the sandwich, this time avoiding losing any mustard. But crumbs fell to the table.
"What about that blackmail?" Ronald asked. "What's everybody doing, shitting in their pants?"
"Not too much. Not in public, anyway. But I can tell Fred's worried, though he doesn't talk about it much. They say they're trying to find out who's behind it, but they're so dumb it'll take them a couple of years."
"Are they going to go to the police?" he asked.
"Nah, what would they want to do that for? You know, Fred plays poker with that police chief, what's-his-name. Anyway, that guy is even dumber than Fred. And Fred's pretty dumb."
"Why do you say that? I always thought he was pretty sharp."
"Of course he's dumb. Here we've been screwing for half a year now and Fred doesn't know anything about it. You'd think he'd at least suspect something."
"Are you sure he doesn't?"
Carol stuffed the last of the sandwich in her mouth and washed it down with coffee. "Of course not. He's too dumb."
Ronald got up. "I'm going to check the prints. There's some cake in the refrigerator."
"Great. I think I'll have some."
Carol carved out a chunk of the cake and put it on a napkin. She looked toward the drawer where the forks were kept, but then sat down and ate the cake without one.
"That set's almost dry," Ronald said when he re-turned.
"Good." Carol licked the chocolate icing off her fingers. "Oh, did I tell you?" Carol said suddenly. "There's a new couple in the group. Steve and Mindy White, or something like that. They don't look too bad."
"You mean you haven't fucked the guy yet?"
"No, but I will this weekend. Maybe I'll get a crack at the girl, too. She looks like a real piece."
"Will she want to make it with you?"
"Why not? All the girls like to make it with me. All the guys, too. They know I give the best fuck of anyone."
"Have they told you that?" Ronald asked.
"No. But they don't have to. I can tell." She paused and began picking up the crumbs from the napkin. "Oh, something else, too. I saw that broad Mindy walking up to Dale Simmons' house when I was driving in. I'll bet they were going to make it."
"How do you know? They could have been just visiting."
"I know what goes on." Carol's napkin slipped to the floor and she reached down to pick it up. "For instance," she went on, "I know that your cock is hard right now."
"So? You want to do something about it?"
"Maybe yes, maybe no. You want me to?"
"I don't care. But if you were to crawl under the table and unzip my pants I wouldn't say anything."
"You men!" Carol said. "I bet you think I'm dying to get down on my knees and suck you off."
"And I'll bet that I'm right."
Carol looked at him as he stood up and adjusted his pants. She could see the bulge below his belt. He sat down again and Carol picked up the last cake crumb from the table.
Finally she said, "Okay, you win. Push away from the table. I don't want to bump my head while I'm having my second dessert."
Ronald pushed back his chair and spread apart his legs. Carol stood up and walked around the table, then sank to her knees in front of him. She put her hands on his thighs and looked up at him.
"Why do you like it so much when I do this?"
"Because I do, that's all. Why do you like it so much when I fuck you in the ass?"
Carol didn't reply, but instead began to pull down the zipper. She pulled the fly apart and peered in-side, then fished in to open the fly of his shorts. She grabbed his cock and struggled to get it out.
"Easy there, bitch," Ronald said. "What are you trying to do, break it in half?"
"I ought to. I ought to take your prick and twist it apart, the way you treat me. And if you do that again -- call me a bitch, I mean -- I will do it."
"Just try it, bitch," he said, and he cuffed the side of her head lightly.
Carol glared at him and squeezed his cock as hard as she could. He cuffed her again. "Get on with it," he said.
She looked down at his cock, hard, with the head of it swelled and purple and a drop of clear fluid forming at the tip. She swiped off the drop with her finger and licked it off.
"You really like the taste of it, don't you, bitch?"
"Oh, shut up," she retorted, and now she licked the tip of his prick with her tongue. More fluid had seeped out and she lapped it up.
She moved her hand down to his balls, still squeezing the prick hard, and she made the skin stretch tight around the shaft. Then she licked her lips to get them moist and lowered her head to the cock.
It slipped in easily. When it was inside an inch she began to run her tongue around it, inside her mouth, and she licked off another drop of the slippery liquid. She sucked in her breath and felt the rounded head of the cock swell from the suction. She kept sucking while she lifted her head.
The prick was slick and shining from her saliva. She looked at it for a moment, until Ronald said, "Come on, cunt! Keep sucking!"
Carol let the cock enter her mouth deeper this time, so that she could feel it almost into her throat. Slowly, very slowly, she raised and lowered her head, alternately sucking when the prick was sliding out and breathing when it slid back in. She established a rhythm, helped by Ronald's hand resting lightly on the back of her head, and she could now hear him breathing hard, in the same rhythm in which she was sucking.
She moved her head faster, and heard his breathing come faster in turn. Her hands were active too, both of them. One gripped the base of his cock, while the other one she had wormed into his pants and was using it to squeeze his balls gently.
His cock was getting even larger now, and it thrilled her. She thought that she could feel the blood pulsing and pounding inside it, but suddenly Ronald thrust up his hips, driving his cock in deeper, and she realized that it was not his blood that she had felt, but his come. It spurted out now, while Ronald groaned and forced her head down to engulf all of his prick, and she swallowed the warm slippery come as soon as it had jetted from the pulsing prick. It seemed to shoot out for a long time, though it was only a few seconds, and Carol struggled to keep swallowing, not wanting to let any spill on Ronald.
Then he had finished. She kept his prick inside her mouth for a minute, feeling it shrink, as if dried up, and she licked it with her tongue while still in-side her mouth to remove the last trace of come. Satisfied at last, she let his cock slip out. She looked up at Ronald to hear his thanks.
"You dirty bitch," he said. "You let a drop of it get on my pants. Look at that."
Carol looked and saw the last drop of come that had oozed out of the limp prick after she had re-leased it. The drop sat upon the pants, not yet soaked in.
"You'd better lick it up, you fucking cunt," Ronald said.
"I'm sorry, Ronnie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it." She licked up the drop carefully. She felt tears in her eyes when she looked up again.
"And it's Ronald, not Ronnie, you bitch. I ought to slap you, you good-for-nothing cunt."
"I'm sorry, Ron ... Ronald. I'll be good. Don't hit me, please."
"Okay, I won't hit you." He smiled faintly, as if trying to regain his good humor. Then he said, his voice still gruff, "Go in the bathroom and wash your face. Your tears smeared your eye make-up."
Carol rushed into the bathroom, where she cried into the damp washcloth for a minute before using it to scrub her face. The tears finally dry, she put on more mascara.
"Ronald, would you buy me that? That little ankle bracelet?"
They were standing outside a jewelers. For the last half-hour Carol had pointed out little presents for Ronald to buy her, but each time he had said no. This time, however, he seemed more interested.
"Which one?" he asked. "The one with the little hearts?"
"No, that looks too cheap. I mean the one over there, the plain gold one with the tiny little plate for the initials."
"Yes, that one looks good. But when would you wear it? Your husband would see it and then you'd be screwed."
"I wouldn't put it on when he was around, silly. I'd just wear it for you." -
"Hmm." Ronald looked thoughtful. "You wait out here a minute. I'll go in and see how much it is."
Ronald entered and Carol watched him through the window. He spoke to the jeweler for a moment, then they both went to the window case, where the jeweler extracted the ankle bracelet and held it up for Ronald to get a better look. Ronald nodded his head and then asked the jeweler something. The jeweler, a short balding man in his sixties, wearing thin-rimmed spectacles, nodded, and Ronald asked him something else. This time the old man looked agitated. He took off his spectacles and wiped them on his handkerchief, then he mopped his forehead. Carol could see them speaking back and forth, apparently arguing; finally the jeweler seemed to con-sent and both of them walked further back in the shop.
Haggling over the price, thought Carol.
She waited for Ronald to come out. Five minutes, ten minutes, almost fifteen minutes. Ronald finally walked out, the door carrying a small white box, which he held up to her and thin tucked into his pocket.
"What'd you hide it for? I want to look at it," Carol said.
"You can look at it later. It's not your birthday until next week, remember."
"But I want to see it now. And you promised you'd give me my present early."
"Okay, okay. But wait until we get back to my apartment. I'll give it to you then. Along with your other present," he added.
"Other present? You mean you got me another one?"
"That's what I said, wasn't it? But unless you're good I won't give you anything, except maybe a punch in the mouth. You'd look pretty funny sucking me off with your teeth knocked out."
"Ronald, don't talk like that. And you wouldn't dare hit me hard."
"Give me a good reason to and you'll find out if I would. Oh, I guarantee you'll find out."
"Will you give me my presents now?" Carol asked as soon as they had returned to Ronald's apartment. "I have to leave soon and get home before Fred does, remember."
"Leave? But I wanted to fuck you first."
"Well," Carol smiled, "there might be time for that. But I have my period now, you know."
"So what? There's more than one way to fuck a bitch."
"You're right. But you can't touch me until you give me my presents. Can I have them now?"
"Okay. Which one do you want first? This one ... " he pulled out the small white box, "or this one?" He opened a drawer and took out another box, just slightly larger than the first.
"I don't know," Carol pouted. "Can't I have both at once?"
"Tell you what. You pick a hand." Ronald put both boxes behind his back and switched them from hand to hand.
"That one," Carol said.
Ronald showed her the smaller box. She took it, lifted the lid, and took out the ankle bracelet.
"Oh, Ronald, it's so beautiful. And what does it say on here?" She read the engraved inscription. "To C.N. A GOOD FUCK. R.T." Her face screwed up and she almost threw the bracelet at Ronald. "Why'd you want to do that?" she cried.
Ronald laughed. "I thought it was pretty funny. And I didn't want you showing that to everybody. You won't dare to, now." He chuckled. "Besides, you should have seen the look on that guy's face when I told him what I wanted him to put on it. He nearly threw me out of the store once he'd gotten over the shock, but finally he agreed to do it. Here, put it on."
"I don't want to wear this when it has that written on it."
"Why not? You're the one who's always_ saying what a good fuck you are. I should think you'd be proud to wear it."
"But it's gross. And vulgar."
"So are you, bitch. Put it on before I smack you."
"All right.. But I wish you'd treat me better." Carol sniffled while she clasped the chain around her ankle. She turned the metal plate so that the inscription was hidden, then looked down at it.
Ronald said, "It's 18 carat gold, you know. You'd better not throw it away. I want you to wear it every time you come to see me."
"I will," Carol said sullenly. "Now give me my other present."
Ronald handed her the box. It was light, too light to be more jewelry. She opened it and spread apart the tissue inside. She pulled out the sheer red garment and held it up.
"It's a pair of panties," she said, not quite able to mask her disappointment.
"A special pair of panties, bitch. Look at the crotch."
He took them from her and showed her the slit, five inches long, running from the front of the crotch to the back. "See? You don't even have to take them off when you want to fuck. Put them on. I want to see if they fit right."
Carol seemed more interested when she saw the slit, and she quickly lifted her skirt to take off her own panties.
"Take off all your clothes first," Ronald said. "I can't get a good look when you're all covered up like that."
Scowling, Carol looked up at him, but then she began unbuttoning her blouse and skirt. She slipped out of them. She wore no bra, and it was a matter of only a few more seconds to remove her panties and put on the new pair. The slit in the crotch made her feel more naked than no panties at all, and for the first time in her life she felt embarrassed to have a man staring at her.
"Looks good, looks good," Ronald said. "Turn around, I want to see the back." She turned, and Ronald stuck his finger in the slit, probing with it the crack of her ass. "It's just right. I can fuck you from front or back. Now turn around and kiss me."
She turned and raised her arms to go around his neck. He slipped into them and pulled her close with his arms around her back. Carol parted her lips and his tongue slipped inside, while his hands descended to her buttocks, where they grabbed at her flesh and squeezed. In an instant Carol was yearning to be screwed.
His fingers played with her ass, rubbing and caressing the skin inside the crack, and now one finger touched her asshole. He pressed firmly, forcing it briefly inside, and Carol spread her legs wide to give him more room. Then his other hand was in front, wedged between their two bodies, and he sought and found her cunt. His hand stroked her hair; then he touched the string of her tampon, which dangled down below her cunt. He tugged at it lightly until Carol, fearing that he would pull it out, made him stop. He now avoided the string, but continued to caress her cunt, rubbing her clit lightly, dipping a finger between the cunt lips to get the moisture which was welling out from the interior of her pussy.
Carol removed one hand from around Ronald's neck and with it touched his prick through his pants. She could feel it hard and stiff. After unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly, she plunged her hand inside to feel what would soon be inside her. He seemed completely ready, and Carol whispered, "Fuck me now. Take off your clothes and fuck me."
Ronald pushed away and undressed quickly. In a few moments Carol was looking at his cock as it bobbed free, and then she quickly knelt on the floor in front of him, grasping his cock in both hands while she took it into her mouth and licked it all around, lubricating it for the piercing of her ass. Satisfied it was wet enough, she crawled onto the bed and lay on her stomach.
Ronald did not waste any time while climbing on top of her. One hand slipped under her body to grasp a breast, the other guided his prick. Carol felt it pressing against the puckered skin and she raised her ass to make it easier. The cock slowly slid inside, forcing apart the flesh, and soon it was sheathed in her ass.
The hand that had guided it slipped under her hips and touched her cunt, juicy and wet, and he rubbed her clit for a moment before beginning his rhythmic movement. The cock pistoned in and out of her ass, not quite slipping out with each raising stroke, but letting her feel the entire length of it surging inside her.
His hand at her tit squeezed it painfully, but she hardly noticed it; already the feelings were building in her cunt and in her ass.
"How ... does ... it ... feel ... for ... you?" she whispered, the words spoken between breaths.
"Great," he said, his mouth beside her ear.
Ronald steadily increased the speed of his thrusts, and she effectively doubled the speed by matching each thrust with a raising and lowering of her ass. Now the pleasure was becoming unbearable. His fingers still played with her clit, but not enough to suit her, so she put her own hand there and pushed his away. Rubbing the wet clit at lightening speed, her fingers brought her to the edge of coming in an instant.
With a groan Ronald began to come, and she could feel his cock pulsing and spurting. Then she could feel nothing but the almost-pain and complete pleasure that flowered in her cunt and ass, growing and growing until it exploded and coursed through-out her entire body, tingling each nerve, finally sub-siding to leave her weak and drenched in sweat. She could feel. a trickle of Ronald's come dripping from her asshole down to her cunt, where her hand rested amid the still-warm juice that had flowed from her pussy. Ronald withdrew his prick slowly, making her ass seem empty and open, and she longed for his cock or another one to fill it once more.
Ronald lay beside her and rolled her on her back. "Look at that, bitch," he said. "You let your new panties get all wet." He forced her hand to touch the damp silk. "I ought to smack you for that," he continued. "I swear, I ought to smack you one."
"Ronald, Ronald," she cried. "Why do you treat me so mean?"
"Because you want me to," he said.
Later, just before leaving, she said, "Did I tell you about the big party in a couple of weeks? The one up on Shore Drive?"
"No, you didn't. How big?"
"About a hundred couples, I think. But it's a shame you can't come. Barry Johnson said last week that he'd heard it would be impossible to crash. Guards-at the gate and all that. I wish there was some way to get you in there, just so I'd have some-one that could make me come the way you do."
"You know you'll find someone," Ronald said. "Or else you'll have a damn good time trying, any-how. But that party does seem interesting. Find out just where it'll be. Maybe I can find a way to get in."
"I'll try, but I don't know if I can."
"Now get out of here. You'll be late."
Carol glanced at her watch with a small gasp, and after a quick kiss thrown at Ronald she hurried off. The elevator was at the top floor, so she sped past it and ran down the stairs.
She glanced at her watch every few minutes during the trip home, cursing the traffic, which crawled bumper to bumper, and cursing Ronald for having kept her so late. Just before coming to her exit from the highway she remembered the ankle bracelet, and she nearly plowed into the rear of the car in front as she reached down to unclasp it. She stuffed it into her handbag, which also contained the panties she had originally worn that day. She still wore the new ones, which allowed her cunt to feel every breath of air under her skirt through the crotch slit.
Fred's car was in the driveway. She parked hers behind it and walked into the house as nonchalantly as she could manage.
"Where the hell have you been?" Fred growled. "I had to make dinner myself."
"Oh, I just went window-shopping. I forgot the time."
"Did you go by yourself?"
"Of course." She tossed her handbag onto the kitchen table.
"Sure you weren't with your boyfriend?"
Carol felt the blood drain from her face. "My boy-friend? What boyfriend?"
"That guy Ronald Turner." Fred looked toward the table, then walked to it and picked up the gold chain that had spilled out. He twisted it in his hand.
"Give me that!" Carol shouted, and she snatched it away, but not in time.
"A good fuck, eh? I suppose you bought this for yourself."
"All right. Ronald gave it to me." Carol's face was grim. "I was with him this afternoon. I sucked him off and he fucked me in the ass. And he gave me this, too. Look." She lifted her skirt, showing Fred the slitted panties. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," Fred said. "I haven't done anything about it for the last six months, so why should I start now? Keep on fucking with him -- I don't care. But I do wish that you'd come home in time to make dinner. You ought to know that a man's liable to get angry on an empty stomach."
"I sometimes wish that you would get angry," Carol hissed. "All you ever do is act so damned superior. It makes me sick."
"I'd get angry with you if you were were worth getting angry at," Fred said. "But you're not." He turned toward the door. "I'm-going to the chiefs to play cards. There's some dinner for you on the stove."
Fred walked out the door while Carol stared at his back, hating him.
CHAPTER SIX
It was Saturday night and time for another party. Peter Lawrence filled the ice bucket and brought it into the living room while his wife Sharon finished preparing the onion dip, and then they sat on the couch, sipping}martinis, waiting for the guests to arrive.
"Do my breasts show through enough, Peter?" Sharon asked, turning to face him and throwing her chest forward to make the nipples protrude through the sheer red blouse.
Peter took another sip and contemplated her tits for a moment. "Enough for me to want to fuck you right now," he said.
"Good. Say, do you think I'd look sexier without a skirt on?"
"Yes."
"I'll take it off then."
Sharon stood in front of him and unzipped the skirt. With a wiggle of her hips it slid to the floor. The front of her blouse came just below her crotch, but Peter could see the dark patch of pubic hair through it. He slipped a finger underneath and rubbed the slit of her cunt lightly. He smiled when he felt her cunt juice flowing and immediately jabbed his finger inside her. Sharon gasped.
"Stop it, you prick," she said, but she remained standing in front of him.
"You saving it for Steve White?"
"That's right. I feel like having some fresh come inside me."
With his finger still in her cunt Peter pulled her closer, making her step out of the skirt. "I want to have a taste before it gets too sloppy," he said; Peter set the martini on the floor and with his free hand parted the flaps of her blouse. He nuzzled her stomach for a moment before turning his head sideways and kissing the center of her patch of hair. He stretched his tongue out as far as possible and touched the very top of her slit. Sharon stepped backward, freeing herself from his finger.
"That's all you get tonight," she said.
"That's all I wanted." He waved his wet finger in the air, then popped it into his mouth. He pulled it out slowly. "You know, you taste good. Using a new kind of douche?"
"No. It's all me."
Peter smiled. "Maybe we should go into business," he said. "If you can make enough of that cunt juice we could package it and sell it. We'd call it Box Lunch." He burst out laughing.
"Shut the fuck up," Sharon said, but she laughed also.
Just then the doorbell rang. "You'd better get it, Peter," Sharon said. "I don't want all the neighbors to see me like this."
"I always assumed that they had already. The guys, anyway."
"I've told you, I keep my fucking in the family. Besides, none of the guys on the block turn me on."
The doorbell rang again and Peter hurried to answer it. It was Barry and Nancy; Peter shook Barry's hand and kissed Nancy on the cheek.
"You can do better than that, Peter my dear," she said, and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him on the lips. They stood in the open doorway for a moment, kissing passionately and rubbing their crotches together.
"We'd better stop," Nancy said. "After all, what will your wife think?"
"You're right," Peter said with deadpan seriousness. "We can't have her finding out about us."
They walked into the living room, where Sharon was on her knees in front of Barry, sucking his cock. Barry looked at them innocently. "Peter, your wife knows how to say hello very well. She should be on the receiving line at one of those hundred-dollar-a-plate dinners. For once people would get their money's worth."
Sharon stopped sucking and said, "No thanks. My jaw gets tired after about ten blowjobs."
"You obviously need more practice," Barry said, shoving his cock back into her face.
She kissed the head of it quickly. "Put it away for now, Barry," she said. "One mustn't monopolize the hostess."
"I wasn't monopolizing you. I was perfectly willing to have someone fuck you at the same time." But Barry tucked his prick back in his pants without forcing the issue.
The Norths and the Simmons arrived a moment later. "Hey, Fred," Barry called out, "come in here and have Sharon say hello to you. And you too, Ed."
"What the hell," Sharon said. "Come here, guys."
She pulled out their cocks and sucked on each one briefly while Peter poured martinis and handed them out. He poured a fresh one for Sharon also and handed it to her while she was still on her knees with Ed Simmons' cock in her mouth. She recognized the signal and stood up.
The four couples settled into chairs to wait for the guests of honor to arrive. "What do you think is keeping Steve and Mindy?" Peter asked.
Barry said, "They might be having trouble finding the house. But I talked to Steve this afternoon and they're definitely coming. He seemed pretty eager too."
"That's good," Carol said, speaking for the first time. "I can't wait for him to fuck the hell out of me."
"I'm ready then," came Steve's voice from the en-trance to the living room. The assembled couples turned to look at Steve and Mindy standing in the doorway. Steve bore a confident smile, but Mindy appeared slightly nervous. She clung to Steve's arm and attempted to smile. "The door was partially open, so we walked in," Steve explained.
"Fine," Peter said. "Here, have a drink and then let's get things rolling."
"You mean get things balling, don't you, Peter?" Carol said.
"Knock off the lousy puns, Carol," Fred said sharply.
"I'll knock your head off if you're not careful," she retorted, and she sulkily sat back and took a large sip of her martini.
The couples chatted for a few minutes. Peter watched Steve's drink, and when he had finished it Peter announced, "Well, it's time to get with it. How about if Steve and all the women except Mindy take off their clothes so we can start on the initiation?"
Steve smiled and stood, shucking his clothes quickly. Sharon was on her knees in front of him in an instant. As soon as his cock appeared she fastened her lips around it. She was joined a moment later by the three women, all nude, and together they dragged Steve to the floor.
Peter poured himself a fresh drink and watched with interest while ,the women took turns sucking Steve's cock. Each one licked and sucked until it appeared that Steve might come, at which time they quickly stood and left his hard cock pounding with the pressure of the infused blood and impending come.
"You've got good control," Nancy said, as she, the fourth woman to take her turn, let his cock slip out of her mouth and stood up.
"Let's see just how good," Carol said. She straddled Steve's body and lowered her cunt to his cock. With her hand she held it straight up, guided it into her pussy, and then moved her body in tiny circles while the head of his prick was just barely in-side. She reached beneath her and fondled his balls, making Steve squirm and try to jam his cock all the way in, but she forestalled his efforts by raising herself each time he thrust upward.
"You're coming, Steve," she said suddenly, and quickly' stood up. Steve's cock remained pointing upward, twitching; with a groan from Steve, come spurted from the tip of his cock, spattering on his body and on the rug. When all that was left was a large drop of come on the tip of his cock, Steve's tense body relaxed. His cock drooped and shrank.
"I knew I could make you come," Carol said. "And look at the mess you've made. All over your-self and on the floor."
A flush of embarrassment started in his cheeks and spread over his face and neck.
Sharon rushed forward. "I'll clean it up," she shouted eagerly, and she dropped to her knees and began to lick the come from his body. Peter watched her red tongue lap up the come for a moment and then went to the kitchen to mix fresh drinks.
Peter took his time in the kitchen. When the martinis were ready he poured one for himself and leaned against the sink sipping on it and listening to the groans and shrieks of pleasure from the living room, while at the same time he absent-mindedly scratched his balls with his fingernails.
He heard a shout that could only be a woman coming, followed by scattered applause. "Good show, Steve," he heard Barry say. "I haven't seen Nancy come like that for a long time. And now it's Mindy's turn."
Peter returned to the living room bearing the martini pitcher. Everyone was undressed with the exception of Mindy, who stood in the center of the room clothed only in her panties. Barry said, "Hurry up, Peter. Mindy says her cunt is all wet and ready to fuck, and since you're the host you should go first. Get with it."
"Sure thing," Peter said, placing the martini pitcher on a table and unfastening his belt. "How do you want it, Mindy?"
Mindy shrugged. "I had expected that you'd fuck me."
"I could, but I'm not sure I feel like it. How about sucking me off? Would you like that?"
"I've never done that before."
"No time to learn like the present. And we're making it as easy as possible for you, you know. We generally have the woman take all the guys on at once, but Dale put in a word for you and suggested we do it one at a time. She said you were worried you couldn't handle all of us."
Mindy blushed. "She's right." Mindy took a deep breath. "Well, should I kneel in front of you or what?"
"Just take off your panties and lie on the rug while I get my clothes off." Mindy did as she was told while Peter unbuttoned his shirt, took it off, and flung it onto a chair. He staggered a bit while stepping out of his trousers and almost lost his balance. He realized that he was beginning to feel the effects of the martinis. He shook his head to clear it.
When he was naked he stood above Mindy's nude body. He gazed at her fluttering eyelashes, at her breasts rising and falling with her breathing, at the rosy nipples hard and pointed, and at her shaved cunt. He began to get an erection as he stared at her slightly parted lips and thought about how they would feel around his cock. Her tongue flicked out to moisten the lips, and the sight of that pink moist bit of flesh was all that he needed to get his cock completely hard. "Here goes," he said, and dropped to his hands and knees across her head. He lowered his body until his cock touched her lips, and he closed his eyes as he felt the lips part and warmly and wetly caress his prick.
Her mouth was soft, smooth. Her tongue swirled around the bulging head of his cock in slow motion, while her lips gently tugged at him. Peter opened his eyes for a moment and glanced down to where his cock penetrated through her red lips, and the sight made his cock harden to its fullest. He wanted to drive it in deeper, force it into her throat and shoot his come directly into her belly, and his desire was strengthened by the thought that she had never sucked a man off before. She was almost a virgin for him, and though he generally considered virginity to be a waste, this time it excited him.
Her fingers played up and down his thighs with a feather touch, and now, as they approached his dangling balls, his excitement increased. She touched them, sending a tingle of pleasure through his groin, and he began to raise and lower his hips to better feel her lips and tongue against his cock.
Mindy was breathing through her nose, warm, moist breath that Peter could feel sifting through his pubic hairs and hotly beating on his flesh. As her sucking continued Peter could feel and hear her breathing harder; when he opened his eyes again and glanced down he saw that her breasts were heaving. Looking the other way, he saw her legs parted as if waiting for a lover to sink his cock in her cunt. She was ready, too; the lips of her pussy were slick with cunt juice.
With a growl of animal pleasure Peter swung around and buried his tongue in her wet hole. At the same time he slammed down his hips, driving his cock deep into her mouth. He felt her struggling but ignored it. Her cunt was too sweet for him to think of anything else, so he concentrated on licking up the delicious fluid, while at the same time his cock pounded inside Mindy's mouth.
He felt himself coming and pistoned his cock faster, matching that rhythm with stabs of his tongue. His balls surged and boiled, his come shot through the length of his prick and spurted out the tip as it sudden relief poured through his body. He buried his cock deeper in her mouth as the second wave of come rose, and then, as he felt it foaming out, he relaxed. Almost exhausted, he licked her cunt twice before slumping and resting his head between her legs.
A few seconds, later he became conscious of Mindy struggling beneath him. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his thighs as she attempted to push him off. With an effort Peter forced his body to roll off her, feeling his cock slide out of her mouth as he did so. The wet skin of his cock felt suddenly cool now that it was removed from the moist, warm hole, but he was able to think of that for only a split second, because Mindy had rolled onto her stomach and now lay puking on the rug.
It was a shame the way Mindy got sick, Peter reflected while taking the first sips of his Monday morning coffee which his secretary had just brought him. But it wasn't my fault really, he thought. So she never sucked a guy off before. So what? There has to be a first time. Maybe Dale did have a point when she said I should have been more considerate, but how was I to know she'd get sick?
The incident had been smoothed over, and after a few minutes of rest Mindy had jerked off Ed and then let Barry and Fred fuck her. Steve and Mindy having been initiated, the party proceeded normally, and they had all paired off shortly after midnight. Peter had been with Dale; she had seemed slightly cold, but she had still been a great fuck. Peter had promised her that he would apologize to Mindy, and he would, too, as soon as he got a chance.
Peter pressed a button on his intercom and spoke to his secretary. "Gail, is the mail ready yet?" he asked.
"I'll have it for you momentarily, Mr. Lawrence," she replied, and Peter leaned back in his leather chair and drummed his fingers on the desk top while he waited.
Gail entered a few seconds later and deposited the bundle of mail on his desk. When she turned to walk out Peter allowed himself to admire her figure, trim and taut under a tight sweater and miniskirt. Just before closing the door she bent down to pick up a scrap of paper; Peter felt his prick surge for an instant as he caught the flash of blue panties covering her ass. But the door closed and Peter sighed, knowing that it was best not to get involved with his secretary. Some of the other junior partners did, of course, but there was always the possibility of complications arising from such an affair. Besides, Gail had a boyfriend, and Peter suspected that they were to be married soon. Peter put his secretary out of his mind and began to thumb through the mail.
It was the usual assortment: letters from clients whose accounts Peter handled, investment advertisements, and one or two pieces of junk mail which Gail had passed on because they were of at least minimal interest. At the bottom of the stack was a large manila envelope marked Personal in large block letters. Peter wondered what it could be, so he threw aside the other letters to open it first.
Peter sucked in his breath sharply when he saw the contents. He spread the two photographs on the desk and stared at them while a hurting hollowness like hunger gnawed at his belly. The blackmailer had contacted him again.
The first photo showed Peter on his knees in front of Nancy. It had been taken at just the right angle to show beyond a doubt that it was he, Peter Lawrence, and that he was eating the cunt of a woman other than his wife. Having a good time of it too, for even his hardon was visible. The picture had been taken at the party in Barry's basement; for there were the mattresses which had formed the stage, and Nancy's cunt was shaved.
The other photograph was of his wife Sharon. The pose was almost identical to that in the previous picture, except she knelt in front of Carol, licking Carol's cunt. Sharon's nipples were hard, her eyes were closed, and her tongue stuck out as if licking an ice-cream cone.
Peter stared at the picture for several minutes before noticing the letter which had accompanied them. Locking the photographs in a drawer lest his secretary should enter and see them, he picked up the letter and read:
Dear Mr. Lawrence:
As promised, here are your 8 x 10 glossy proofs. You may frame them or do whatever else you like with them; it's no matter, I have more. I trust that you would not care to have your friends, relatives, and employer receive them, and they will not, provided you do exactly as I say.
Every Wednesday, beginning this. week, you will send $25 in five dollar bills to Box 80105, Union Station. As long as I continue to receive the money I promise not to reveal anything of your secret life, nor will I demand more money. But if I should fail to receive the money on time, or if you should make any attempt to contact the police or to discover my identity, then I cannot be responsible for the consequences.
It is a pleasure doing business with you.
The letter was unsigned. Peter's hand trembled as he read it through once more and realized that he was actually being blackmailed. "That son of a bitch," he said. "That son of a bitch."
What if his boss should see the pictures? He would probably lose his job, because the firm would want to hide a scandal as quickly as possible. He and Sharon would probably have to move to another city. And what if his mother should receive copies of the photos? He could hear her voice now. Once, when he had gotten in trouble in college for drinking in the dorms, his mother had said, "Who would think that I raised my son to be an alcoholic?" Now she would say, "Who would think that I raised my son to be a pervert, and that he would marry a whore?" Peter shuddered to think of it.
He made a sudden decision. "Gail," he called over the intercom, "do I have any appointments this morning?"
"No sir, not until this afternoon."
"Good. I'm going out to lunch early."
He locked the letter in the drawer with the pictures and headed out to get a drink.
Peter returned shortly before one o'clock. "Mr. Bradley wants you to call him as soon as you can, and Mr. North stopped by and left this note for you. He typed it himself," his secretary said, passing him the folded piece of paper.
"Thank you, Gail," Peter said. He unfolded the note and read it as he entered his office. "Call me this afternoon. Fred."'
Why didn't he just tell that to Gail? he wondered, but he forgot about it as he picked up the phone call his boss, Mr. Bradley.
"You know Mrs. Gracie, don't you, Peter?" was the first thing his boss said after they had exchanged greetings.
"Of course," Peter replied, wondering at the question. Mrs. Gracie was one of the firm's best clients, a Daughter of the American Revolution, and, above. all, an absolute teetotaler. Peter often suspected that she was personally responsible for every blue law on the books.
Mr. Bradley continued. "She saw you going into a cocktail lounge awhile ago, and she rushed right down here to tell me about it."
Peter groaned to himself. "I had to meet a client there for lunch," he lied hastily.
"I thought it was something like that, and that's what I told her. But I just wanted to remind you to keep on your toes. Myself, I always look both ways before walking into a bar. You never know who might be walking down the street."
"I'll be more careful," Peter said.
"Good. That's all, then," Mr. Bradley said, and signed off.
Peter slumped in his chair after hanging up the phone. What if Mrs. Gracie or someone like that saw the pictures? She'd not only make sure I was fired, but also would do her damnedest to keep me from getting another job anywhere in the country. Fuck, I need another drink, but I'd better not. The three martinis I had should hold me until after work. But another one sure would go down well. Fuck it, though, I'd better call Fred. He probably stopped by about the pictures.
Peter's surmise was correct. Fred said, "Everyone got the photos and letters in the mail today, all except Steve and Mindy, of course. We're going to meet at Barry's tonight, put our heads together, and see if we can come up with anything. Can you make it?"
"I'll be there. Should I bring the pictures?"
"Yes. I thought we'd compare them, maybe work out where the camera was, and, in general, see if there are any clues. Is eight o'clock good?"
"Fine," Peter said. "I'll see you then."
Peter arrived a few minutes late, having stayed too long at the last bar. He attempted to button his shirt collar and straighten his tie before he entered the living room, but the collar seemed too tight so he gave up.
Fred, Barry and Ed were gathered around the coffee table, the photos spread out in front of them. Nancy sat aside, not taking part in the discussion but looking interested. Peter tossed his photographs on the table with the others and settled back on the couch.
"Good to see you, Peter," Barry said. "Do you want a drink?"
"Sure, why not? Well, what's happening?"
A strange expression crept across Fred's face. "Nothing much, until now," he said. "This one of you and Nancy is different from the rest."
Peter sat upright, almost spilling the drink which Barry had just handed him. "How so?" he asked.
"It was taken from a different position and, I would say, with a different camera. Here, compare these."
Fred shoved across the photograph of Peter and Nancy along with one of Ed and Carol. "All of these were taken from the same position, except for this one," Fred said, tapping his finger on Peter's photograph. "See, it was taken more from the side, not head-on like the rest, and I also suspect the camera was held lower. Also, it's not as clear. It's a little fuzzy, not quite in focus, and the exposure is some-what different too."
"Let me see them," Peter said, picking up the two pictures. He could feel the eyes of the other men staring at him coldly. "I suppose you're right," he said after examining them. "But what does it mean?"
Barry said, "We might ask you that."
"But I don't know anything! I never saw these pictures until they came in the mail today."
"Are you sure?" Barry asked.
"All right, knock it off," Fred interrupted. "As I recall, Peter and Nancy were the first ones to go on stage. It's possible that I'm wrong about it being a different camera, and that whoever was taking the pictures just didn't have it adjusted right to begin with. But it does seem that if it was one of us taking them, then there must have been two, since all of us are included in at least one picture. For instance, Barry, you and Nancy."
It was time for all the men to stare at Barry. He sat dumbfounded, and it was Nancy who said, "But that's ridiculous! I've never used a camera in my life, and neither has Barry. We don't even own one. And besides, you're all our friends. We could never do anything like that to you."
"Perhaps," Fred said evenly. "But you two were the ones who arranged the party. And another thing: the first letters were mailed before the night of the party. Whoever mailed them was sure that he'd be able to get photographs. Barry and Nancy, you two are obviously the prime suspects."
"But we know nothing about it!" Barry shouted. "You can't think it was us!"
Fred smiled. "I don't. You'd have to be pretty dumb to take the pictures when the party was at your own house. No, I don't think it was you."
"That's a relief, then," Barry said. "I was trying to think of some way to prove it, but I couldn't. All I could give was my word."
Steve White appeared suddenly. "What did you find?" Fred asked him.
Peter said, "I didn't see Steve when -I came in."
"No, he was upstairs going through the house."
"Going through the house?" Barry shouted. "What was he doing that for?"
Fred answered. "You thought he was just going to the bathroom, but before we arrived I told him to slip away the first chance he got to check for type-writers and cameras. Well, Steve, what did you find?"
"No camera, and only one typewriter. The print doesn't match."
"Good enough," Fred said. "I'm sorry I had to do it this way, Barry, but I'll have to admit that I did suspect you. I thought it would be best to check without you knowing."
"That's okay, I understand," Barry grumbled. "But wait a minute. We have two typewriters."
Fred smiled. ,Did you find two of them, Steve?"
"Yes, but I just mentioned the one, like you told me-I should do in that case. Neither one matches the type in the letters."
"Good. Now then, let's go downstairs and see if we can figure out where the person was when the pictures were being taken."
Peter got to his feet slowly and followed the others downstairs. On the way he freshened his drink and, with the first sip, swirled the stronger liquor around in his mouth before swallowing it. He had to admit that it tasted good.
Once in the basement Peter settled into a chair with his drink and watched the others cluster around Fred. He was speaking of angles, heights, enlargements, and croppings, and to Peter it made no sense whatsoever. Besides, his legs were unsteady, and it was much easier to sit in one place rather than pace the floor the way the others were doing.
The stage was still in place at the one end of the room, the same way it had been the night of the party. Peter could still remember how good Nancy's cunt had tasted when he was on stage eating her, and he also remembered how Carol had whipped Sharon and made her eat her cunt. That had been a good night, he thought, but it had also been the start of their troubles with blackmail. He wondered how many more good nights there would be, and whether they would ever get to the bottom of the blackmail mess. At this point, I don't care, he told himself.
A shout from the far end of the room caused Peter to look up. Fred was lifting a curtain which covered one of the basement windows while asking, "You're sure it was locked?"
"It's always locked," Barry said. "Nancy, you don't remember unlocking it at any time, do you?"
"No, I can't think of any reason for me to do it," she replied.
Ed said, "But if the pictures were taken by some-one outside the window, then someone from inside must have opened it for him."
"Could be," Fred said, "but look: the lock is only a hook and eye; someone could have reached through with a piece of celluloid and unfastened it from out there."
Peter got to his feet with an effort and walked unsteadily to where the four men and Nancy stood in a group a the end of the basement. "What's going on, anyway?" he asked.
"We just found that this window is unlocked," Fred explained.
"You mean the pictures were taken through there?"
"Right. The window was opened and the curtain pushed aside. It was dark back here, so none of us noticed."
Ed asked, "What about footprints outside? Think we ought to check?"
"We could," Fred said, "but it's rained several times since then. I doubt that any will be left by now."
"It's all grass outside the window. There wouldn't be any footprints anyway," Barry said.
"How about fingerprints?" asked Ed.
Fred brushed his mustache with his fingers. "I can give it a try, but not tonight. I have a kit at home, and I'll bring it by tomorrow. But I checked the photographs as soon as I got them, and there were none on them. Whoever took them was careful about developing them, and I'd say he was just as careful when he took the pictures."
"Then it looks like it wasn't any of us," Peter said, taking another swallow of his drink after he spoke.
Fred brushed aside his mustache once more. "Yes, it looks that way. But let's do one final check. Let's go to each one of our houses and look for typewriters and cameras like we did here with Barry. To be on the safe side, let's agree not to call our wives to say we're coming. It's not that I suspect anyone, but I think it's better to be sure."
The other men agreed, and shortly they left Barry's to drive to Fred's house. Fred showed them his typewriter and camera and then remained in the living room while Ed, Barry and Steve were left free to search the house. "I have nothing to hide, and of course I could have hidden anything if I wanted to, but it's better to be sure," Fred told them. "Go through anything you like, I'll understand."
Peter remained in the living room. He got a new drink and slumped on the couch, his feet extended out in front of him. He could hear movements and the men's voices upstairs, but paid little attention to them. But after a few minutes he sat up suddenly.
"Say, Fred," Peter began, "I was wondering about something. When you stopped by the office this afternoon, why did you bother to type out, the note telling me to call you? My secretary could have passed the message along just as easily."
Fred smiled. "I was just up to one of my little tricks," he said. "I wanted to get a sample of type from the machine in your office. I did the same to everyone. None of them matched the letters."
"You seem to be taking this pretty seriously," Peter observed.
"Yes, I am," was all Fred replied.
Peter's house was the last to be searched. By eleven o'clock that task was completed with the same results as elsewhere: the type on the typewriters did not match that of the letters. The cameras which were found did not seem to be ones which could have been used; Fred had explained in the course of the evening, "Most likely a zoom lens was used. If the photos were taken from the back of the room with an ordinary lens, and the photos enlarged and cropped the way they were, they couldn't be nearly as distinct, particularly when you consider that the lighting was poor." But no zoom lenses were found.
When the last of the men had left Peter returned to the living room where Sharon lay sleeping on the couch. She had been about to go to bed when they arrived, but had remained downstairs while they were searching. Sharon's legs were tucked up as she slept, leaving room at the end of the couch, and Peter sat there finishing his last drink for the evening.
He watched Sharon's breasts rise and fall as she breathed. She was wearing her favorite style of blouse, sheer, and Peter could see her tits clearly. He felt an urge to reach over and squeeze them, but refrained for a moment. However, his cock began to harden at the thought.
When he had drunk the last drops of liquor and decided against having another, Peter again looked at his wife. I'm horny, he thought, but if I wake her up she'll be too tired and say no. I wonder if I can fuck her without waking her up?
He immediately knelt beside her and unbuttoned her blouse. He left it open, her breasts exposed, and then unsnapped and unzippered her slacks. As he pulled them off Sharon stirred, but her eyes remained closed and her breathing was still even. Her panties were next, and Peter managed to remove them without her waking.
He dropped his trousers and underwear and stood above his wife's nearly naked body for a few minutes while he massaged his cock to get it as hard as possible. When he was ready he gently spread her legs and climbed onto the couch. A gob of spit lubricated his cock. He got into position, his prick poised an inch from her cunt, and suddenly lost control and jammed it into her cunt as hard and as deep as he could.
Sharon screamed as she awoke.
Peter pounded his cock inside her cunt like a madman.
"You fucking bastard!" Sharon cried, and she struggled to throw him off. "You drunk bastard!" she screamed at him when Peter had lost the struggle and lay on the floor breathing heavily. "You can sleep down here, you son of a bitch," she cried at him as she stormed out of the living room and up the stairs.
Peter's mind whirled drunkenly as he lay on the rug; through the haze he heard the bedroom door slam. He rolled onto his stomach and fell' asleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The noontime summer sun beat heavily on Nancy Johnson's back. She lay in her back yard, stretched out on her stomach on a blanket, wearing her briefest bikini.
She was reading a' bestseller, but hardly concentrating on it. Instead, her attention was focused on the yard next door, her mind alert for any rustles which would mean that Harry was working outside again.
Harry and Sylvia had lived next door for the last three years, but the Johnsons barely knew them. They seemed to be a puritanical couple; they rarely went out, and though Barry and Nancy had invited them whenever they threw a straight party, they had come only once, and that time for less than an hour. However, Nancy was dying to have Harry get into her pants.
She had tried numerous times, but whenever it seemed that she might be successful at arousing his interest, his wife had appeared. She had never caught them in a compromising position, for Nancy had never managed to get that far. But Sylvia always seemed to know what was happening, and her dirty looks were enough to make Harry shy away.
But somehow Nancy knew that today would be different. She had heard that Sylvia was away visiting her mother, and it seemed very likely, for her car was gone and Nancy had not seen her for several days. And this morning Harry had been working out in the backyard, cutting the grass, weeding the gar-den, and trimming the hedges. Nancy had watched him working and put on her bathing suit to sun her-self, but just before she had gone outside Harry had stopped working and gone in for lunch, so she assumed. That was half an hour ago, so Nancy thought that he was due out again at any second.
She smiled when she thought of what Harry would be thinking. He would have to be interested; what red-blooded man wouldn't be? And Harry seemed to be very red-blooded.
He was about her age, early thirties, with black hair and a handsome, although not striking, face. She knew that he had a good build, for she had seen his muscles through his T-shirts while he worked outside. She could feel her cunt getting wet just thinking about him.
Maybe I'd better give him more of a show, she thought, and she-loosened the straps on her halter. She smiled when she looked down and saw her cleavage totally exposed. She pulled down the cup so that it barely covered the pink surrounding her nipples, and she shifted on the blanket so that she was almost directly facing the fence and hedge that separated the two backyards. The last thing he had been doing was trimming the hedge, and he hadn't finished, so Nancy was sure that he would start that again when he came out. And when he did he couldn't help but see her.
Nancy had to rest on her elbows while reading to make sure that her breasts were visible, but her arms quickly tired. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes beneath the sunglasses.
There was a rustle from the hedge. Nancy opened one eye and glanced over. Not seeing him, with one hand she tugged at the halter to pull it further down. She grinned inwardly at the sight of a nipple almost totally exposed and . knew that Harry wouldn't be able to avoid seeing it.
The hedge rustled once more, and Nancy felt cunt juice trickle into the crack of her ass expectantly. But then, with a brilliant flash of blue, a bird flew from, the hedge and' Alighted in a tree in Nancy's back yard. It had been a false alarm.
Nancy sighed and decided to go all out in her efforts. Reaching behind her back, she undid the straps of the ,halter and pulled it free from her breasts. She lay back, her arms behind her head, and felt the sunlight and gentle breeze play over her tits, gently caressing the nipples into arousal. She smiled to herself and hoped that Harry would come out soon.
A few minutes later, when he still had not shown, she grew restless once more. This time she slipped the bikini briefs below her hips so that the briefs barely covered the top of her cunt. If she had not been shaved the pubic hair would have been visible, but now it was all glossy smooth skin.
Suddenly there came a sound from next door, and Nancy was instantly alert. The sound came again; it was the thwack! of a pair of hedge clippers. She knew that Harry was working now, and she could barely contain her excitement.
She glanced at the top of the hedge, eager to see Harry peering over at her. Her heart beat hard and the blood in her body pounded as she waited. More juice trickled from her cunt.
The sound of the working hedge clippers came closer, but still Harry was hidden from her sight. Another minute, she thought, and I'll have to call out his name.
Then she saw the top of his head, a patch of black hair, barely showing above the hedge directly across from her. With each thwack! of the clippers the head bobbed, and from the sound it seemed that he was working from bottom to top. Nancy quickly pinched her bare nipples to make sure they were hard and then pretended to read her book, while actually watching the bobbing head. She squirmed to make her briefs slide down even further.
Now the forehead was visible -- Nancy wanted to squeeze her thighs together to ease the ache in her cunt -- and then she saw the full face. It was not the face of Harry, but of his wife!
Nancy quickly dropped her eyes to her book as she saw the expression of surprise on Sylvia's face, and she continued to read as the hedge clippers clattered furiously down the length of the hedge.
The ache in her cunt subsided into a dull throb. One hand. crept down over her belly into the slit and she rubbed the moist crack for an instant, considering masturbating to ease the tension, but then she had a better idea. Gathering up the blanket, book and halter in her arms, she marched into the house to take a quick shower and get dressed.
It was a matter of only a few minutes before Nancy was once more outside, this time strolling down the front walk to her car, swinging her pocket-book gaily and looking forward to a lard cock to be found in one of the nearby bars. She wore a light blouse, a short skirt and shoes, with nothing underneath, and as she slid onto the car seat she hiked up her skirt to let the sun-warmed leatherette upholstery burn the bare skin of her ass and back of her thighs. It was a good feeling. Wiggling her ass, bringing her cunt into light contact with the seat, she drove off.
She had little luck in the first bar. There were but two customers, both nearly double her age, and though they looked at her with interest Nancy wanted nothing to do with them.
The bartender, was more likely, for he was younger, and he treated her gallantly enough, lighting her cigarette with a flourish and giving her extra liquor in her drink. But he didn't particularly excite her, at least not enough for her to wait for him to get off work, so after one drink she left and went to a second spot.
Here her luck seemed better. There were half a dozen men, and three of them seemed likely. She had decided that she wanted a young cock, and though none of the three men were quite young enough, they were not too old to be beyond consideration either.
She ordered a drink and observed the three surreptitiously. Two were talking together; they had both glanced at her when she walked in and then returned to their conversation. The one with his back to her had dark curly hair and glasses and was not unattractive, but from the way he moved she suspected that he had already drunk too much. The one facing her had sandy hair and a good build, an attractive face, and the movements of an athlete. He looked to be about her age, and Nancy thought that he was a good prospect.
The third man sat further down the bar, and while she could not get a good look at him he seemed powerful -- another good prospect.
The third man was the first to approach her. She watched him swagger down out of the corner of her eye and thought that, if nothing else, he certainly did not lack confidence. He slid in next to her, his florid beefy face breaking into a broad grin that showed pearly teeth, while his leg made positive purposeful contact with hers. Nancy liked his assurance and was ready to stand up and walk out with him without a word, but his opening line turned her off immediately.
"Well, sister," he said, breathing his words directly into her ear, "I guess we're both here for the same thing."
Nancy looked at him and smiled sweetly. "You want to get fucked, right?" she said softly.
His grin grew broader. "That's right," he said with a quick nod of his head. "You sure hit the nail on the head with that one."
"Fine. Then go fuck yourself."
The smile disappeared and he shook his head in disbelief. "What was that you said?"
"If you want to get fucked, then go fuck yourself."
His face turned red, giving Nancy a moment of fear for what he might do to her, but then she heard the laughter from the other patrons. The man heard them too; he downed his drink, gritted his teeth, and walked out without another word. Nancy smiled as she watched him go.
The other two men seemed about to approach her but apparently thought better of it, and by the time she had finished her drink she had made up her mind to leave and try somewhere else. But as she put her glass on the bar for the last time the answer to her horniness walked in the door.
He was as young and vigorous as she wanted, in his middle twenties, with longish hair, a drooping mustache and neatly trimmed beard. He wore an open shirt and blue jeans, with sandals on his feet, and he moved with ease and grace. He settled into a stool one down from her and mopped his lightly sweated brow with a handkerchief.
"A mug of draft," he said, "and make sure it's cold."
Nancy watched his eyes pass over her quickly and observed a flicker of interest-. But he turned back to the bar and paid for his beer, then lit a cigarette, leaving his pack, matches, and change in front of him. After the first long drag he took a deep swallow of beer.
Nancy quickly ordered another drink and pulled out one of her cigarettes. She pretended to fumble in her pocketbook for matches, ignoring them when her fingers touched a book, and then she snapped her pocketbook closed and laid it on the bar. "Excuse me," she said, "do you have a light?"
He turned to her, smiled briefly, and struck a match. She let her fingertips touch his wrist when he held it up for her. She smiled a thank you, he smiled in return, but then she frowned as he turned back to his beer without another word.
She tried to think of another way to get his attention but drew a momentary blank. Across the room one of the other men rose and put money in the jukebox. A few moments later a heavy beat of a popular song filled the room. Nancy had heard the song on the radio constantly during the past few weeks, and she tapped her fingers on the bar in time with the music.
She drank, then put the cigarette to her lips for another drag. But it had gone out and she got a mouthful of foul tasting air. She brightened.
"Excuse me again, but my cigarette's gone out. Careless of me."
"Not at all," he smiled. "I'm sure it's my fault. Here."
He held up another match and this time their eyes met.
"Thank you," she said, her words coming out mixed with smoke.
"You're welcome," he said, his eyes not leaving hers. He paused. "May I buy you another drink."
"But I have almost a full one."
"Another won't hurt. But I'll wait until you've finished that. What's your name?"
"Nancy. Yours?"
"George."
"What do you do?"
"Lie around a lot. Drink beer. Relax."
"You're kidding. Don't you earn money?"
"Of course. I'm earning money right now, just sitting here."
"How's that?"
"Hear that song? I wrote it, along with I don't know how many others. I don't bother keeping track of them."
Nancy took another drink. "Why, that's fascinating," she said. "Tell me, how do you go about writing a song?"
"I get an idea, something I see or do, or something I overhear someone say, and then I sit down with my guitar and work it out. Then I can sit back and relax until I get another idea. That's what I'm doing right now, relaxing. I just finished writing another one this morning."
"It can't be quite that easy," Nancy said.
"No, not quite. I always have to rework them after the first draft, and some of them I never do get quite the way I want them, so I put those away for a while and maybe work, on them again in a few months. But it is easier, that' you might think. For instance, I could probably write a song about you."
"You're kidding!"
"No. In fact, if you would care to come to my house I could do it right now. I'd write it here but I need my guitar."
Nancy thought that things were moving a bit too fast, but this was the opportunity she had been waiting for all day. She said, "I'll take you up on that. Where do you live?"
"A few blocks away. We can walk it in a couple of minutes. We could drive, but my girlfriend borrowed my car this week. Unless you have a car."
"Yes, I do, but we might just as well walk. But what's this about your girlfriend?"
"I live with her. But she drove to Los Angeles to visit her parents and won't be back until next week sometime." He paused and looked at her. "What's the matter? Upset because I have a girlfriend? I'll bet you have a husband."
Nancy flushed and lowered her eyes. "Yes, I do," she said.
"All the better. We're almost even. But let's not waste too much time. I can feel inspiration growing right this instant." He smiled and glanced down-ward. Following his gaze, she saw his cock bulging under his blue jeans.
"Inspiration, indeed," Nancy said. "I thought there was another name for that."
"There is," he said, "but not in public. Let's go."
Laughing, they stood up, leaving their drinks half-finished on the bar. George scooped up his money, leaving a generous tip, and they walked out arm in arm.
The sunlight was blinding after the darkness of the bar, and they paused outside while Nancy pulled her sunglasses from her pocketbook and put them on. George did likewise with a pair of aviator sung-lasses which he took from his shirt pocket. Then they linked arms once again and strolled down the block.
Nancy was conscious of the click of her shoes, the slap of George's sandals on the concrete, the gentle breeze that wafted through her hair; but most of all she was aware of the jiggle of her breasts under her blouse. She glanced sideways to see if George was looking at them, and she smiled when she saw that he was indeed. He seemed to catch her glance and her smile, for he grinned, slipped his arm around her waist, and whispered, "They're very impressive."
"Thank you," Nancy replied.
They arrived at George's house in five minutes. It was a small two-story stone house surrounded by shrubs, ivy, and shade trees. George paused halfway up the flagstone walk and said, "It looks very respectable, doesn't it? Wait until you see the inside."
He opened the front door, ushered her in, and closed the door quickly before she could see anything of the interior, for with the door closed she was enveloped in total darkness. Then he clicked a wall switch and tiny pinpoint lights on the ceiling blinked on, illuminating the entrance hall like star-light, barely enabling her to see George, though he was standing a mere foot away.
"If you'll look closely you'll see that they're arranged in constellations," he said. "That's Leo right above; that's my sign. Down there is Taurus, my girlfriend's. When's your birthday?"
"January, sixth Nancy said.
"Ah, you're a Capricorn, then." He clicked an-other switch and one set of lights began blinking on and off. "That's Capricorn there." One more switch clicked and now Leo began flashing. "Sets up good vibes," George explained.
They continued down the hallway, George holding her hand, and entered a room at the rear of the house. "This is the red room," George said. Nancy could see nothing for a moment, for the room was still dark. Thick black shades were pulled down over the windows, keeping out all light from outside with the exception of a faint glow from around the edges of the windows. George left her by the doorway and walked across the room to turn on the lights.
When they came on, three of them, all red, they filled the room with an eerie glow. Looking around her, Nancy could see that not only were the lights red, but everything else as well: paintings on the wall, the walls themselves, the furniture. But the most prominent feature of the room was the rug. Done in shades of red, it showed a couple fucking. Nancy stared at it for several minutes.
The couple portrayed were lying on their sides, their arms entwined. The male's mouth sucked on one breast, and the tip of his prick had just begun to penetrate the woman's cunt. As Nancy stared the rug seemed to come alive. The woman's chest seemed to be heaving, her open mouth seemed to be whimpering words of love, and the man's prick seemed to surge with power and building come.
"You like it?" George asked. ;
Nancy nodded. "It's fabulous. Where in the world did you buy it?"
George chuckled. "We didn't. We made it. Look closely. That guy is me, but before I grew my beard. And the woman is my girlfriend. All we did was to have a picture taken of ourselves like that and then projected it onto the backing. She did most of the hard work, like tracing it, and then spent hours and hours dying yarn to exactly the right shade, hooking it, and trimming it to shape. It took well over a year, but it was well worth it, don't you think?"
Nancy agreed, and she continued to examine the rug. She noted that not only were the colors and shadings accurate, but also that it was done in relief. The body contours were molded, making the woman's breast actually rounded, her nipple pointed, and her cunt open, ready to accept the prick. It was as if the couple had been sunk into the floor while making love and then compressed just enough avoid sticking out awkwardly while retaining the impression of all of their three dimensions.
George interrupted her thoughts. "We came here so that I could write a song about you," he said. "I will, if you like, or if you prefer we could smoke a little grass and relax."
Nancy knew what he meant by relaxing. She said, "I don't really know what I'd do with a song about me, but I do know what we could do with some grass."
"That's the spirit," George said. "I didn't really feel like writing a song this afternoon anyway. Here, sit down while I go get the dope."
He returned in a few minutes with a plastic bag containing about an ounce of grass in one hand, with rolling papers, a roach clip, and a bottle of wine in the other. Nancy, began to feel high just thinking about it.
After they had shared two joints Nancy suddenly giggled, lay back on the couch, and announced, "I'm fucking stoned." Her head seemed to alternately shrink and expand, the red light played tricks with her eyes, and, most of all, she felt unbelievably horny. The touch of George's fingers on her hand as he passed her the roach made her long for more intimate touches, and she could barely refrain from grabbing his crotch, unzipping his fly, and pulling out his cock to kiss and suck. But it'll be better if we wait, she thought, so she merely hiked up her skirt to expose more of her thighs, hoping that George would notice. She smiled when she saw that he had. He shifted on the couch and adjusted his pants, and she smiled once more when she saw the thick outline of his cock bulging under his jeans.
"Do you play poker?" George asked suddenly.
"Poker? Well, I have. But I thought we'd play other games." The roach died while she held it, and now she popped it into her mouth, washing it down with the wine which George had poured for her earlier.
"I meant strip poker," George explained.
Nancy laughed, almost hysterically. "I don't have very many chips," she said. "Just my blouse, skirt, and shoes."
"That's okay. I have only five: shirt, pants, under-wear, and my sandals. I'll take one sandal off so we start out even. But we can't play in here; the light makes it almost impossible to see the cards. Let's go in a different room."
He stood and held her hand to help her rise. With him still holding her hand, she followed him into the room across the hall.
While walking Nancy realized just how stoned she was, for she felt as if she were swimming in the air, with her feet above the floor and her head floating somewhere just below the ceiling. But it's a good feeling, she thought, and when we start to fuck it'll be fabulous.
When George clicked on the black light on the ceiling of the new room the walls came alive with orange and red glowing pictures of nude women, gigantic breasts, and huge cocks. "This is the fuck room," George said. "Like it?"
Nancy stared at the walls, and then at the glowing waterbed in the center of the room. "I like it a lot," she said. "What are we waiting for?"
"We were going to play poker, remember? Here sit on the bed and we'll start."
George kicked off one sandal and began to shuffle. "We'll play seven card stud, okay? Nothing wild, and the loser takes off one item. That sound good?"
"Sounds fine with me," Nancy said.
"And one more thing. How about if the loser, the final loser, I mean, the one that ends up with no clothes left, has to do whatever the winner wants? Is that okay too?"
"Sounds exciting," Nancy said.
"Good. Well, here goes."
He dealt the first hand. Nancy received two pairs, and she thought that she had a chance to win that one, for George had nothing showing. But he flipped over the three deuces he had in the hole.
"There's one down," Nancy said, kicking off a shoe.
Nancy dealt the" next hand and won it with a low straight, and then George won the next two. Nancy took her time unbuttoning her blouse when she lost it, and she turned away demurely as she slipped it off her shoulders. She turned back to face George as slowly as she could.
George stared at her breasts for a long time and Nancy felt her nipples harden under his gaze. "Well, do you like them?" she said finally.
"Yes, very much. You don't mind if I touch them, do you?"
"Not in the least. But not too much. We still have a game to play."
"I just wanted to get the feel of them." He reached out with one hand and touched it lightly to one tit. He placed his four fingers and thumb around it, squeezed gently, and then withdrew slowly, stroking her tit all the way down to the nipple. He caught it between two fingers and held it for a moment before releasing it.
"Hurry up and deal," Nancy said.
George wasted no time, but shuffled and dealt hurriedly. He lost that hand and took off his shirt while Nancy shuffled for the next deal. George lost that hand also.
He stood before her as he undid his blue jeans and let them drop to his ankles. His well-filled briefs were inches away from Nancy's face as he stood there and she could not help reaching out to touch the swelling mound his erect cock made. With one finger she stroked it from his balls up to the tip and watched it grow stiffer and larger.
George said, "No more of that. We have one hand left to play to see who the winner will be."
"I think we'll both be winners," Nancy said.
She was dealt the eight of spades and the king of hearts as the first two hole cards, and the four of clubs as the first one showing. George had the three of diamonds. Next for Nancy was the queen of diamonds, with the seven of clubs for George, followed by the ace and then jack of diamonds for her, and the king of clubs and queen of hearts for him. Nancy looked at her cards: ace, king, queen, jack, eight and four. She hoped for a ten on the last card, or at least something that matched.
George paused in dealing. "Nice looking little straight flush you're building there," he said. "If you have it looks like you'll win, and I'll have to do any-thing you want me to."
"Hurry up and deal," Nancy said.
The last card was face down, and Nancy slipped it towards herself across the bed without looking at it. Then she picked up one corner and looked. It was merely the two of hearts.
George flipped over his cards. "I just have two pair -- kings and sevens," he said, showing the king of spades and seven of hearts from the hole. "Did you get your straight flush?"
"No," Nancy said slowly. "I didn't get anything." She tossed her cards down on the bed and stood up. "Looks like I lost, right?"
"Yep, sure looks that way."
"What do you want me to do?"
"First of all I want you to take off that skirt. Then you can kneel in front of me and take off my briefs, and after that you can suck me off. Okay?"
"Yes," said Nancy.
Taking a deep breath, Nancy unsnapped the skirt and unzipped it. She held it up for a moment until she was ready, and, then let it fall. She watched George's face to see his reaction to her shaved pubic mound.
His eyes widened when he saw it. Nancy watched him gaze at her mound and then slowly raise his eyes up past her breasts to her face.
"It's striking," he said. "I'd touch it, but right now you have other things to do. Get busy."
"Yes, master," Nancy said, the word master slip-ping out before she had a chance to stop it. But if. George noticed he made no sign, but merely rose to his feet in front of her.
Nancy fell to her knees before him. The bulge of his cock was on a level with her face and only inches away. She stared at it as she raised her arms and hooked her fingers under the elastic of his briefs. She tugged them down over his hips, smiling when the front got caught on his rigid prick. She freed it, and continued to pull the briefs down, but her eyes were fixed only on his long hard cock that stood out straight from a mat of dark curling hair.
"Suck it," George said.
"Yes, master," said Nancy.
With one hand she held his balls loosely, feeling them move and shift inside the hairy sac. She wet her lips with her tongue and pressed them against the knob of his cock in a long wet kiss. Darting out her tongue, she moistened the head of his cock quickly, and, leaning forward and parting her lips, she let his prick penetrate her mouth.
Her eyes were closed, but she could feel him moving backward slowly. He eased down and sat on the bed, with Nancy following, never letting go her hold on his prick. He rested a hand on either side of her head, guiding her, forcing her head to move up and down, right and left, as he wished.
She continued in this manner for several minutes, and could feel him growing more and more excited. His cock was becoming larger; it filled her mouth with its bulk; and she knew that he would come soon.
Suddenly his hands lifted her head away from his cock. "Stop," he ordered.
Nancy looked up, amazed. "I thought you wanted me to suck you off?"
He smiled. "I do. But I was about to come, and I don't want it to be over yet. Let's smoke another joint and relax for a few minutes."
Nancy agreed and sat on the bed. George left the room and returned in a few minutes with the grass. Quickly and expertly he rolled another joint and they they lay full length on the bed and smoked it.
Nancy enjoyed the rippling of the bed as it responded to their slightest movements, and for a few minutes she became lost in the rippling rhythm as in a dream. But then she gradually became aware of George's hand stroking her thigh from knee to hip in long sweeps, fluttering across her belly now and then, followed by a long stroke down the other leg. She responded by resting her hand on his thigh, just below his crotch, and with her thumb just touching his cock she rubbed it gently. She could feel it twitch every time she touched a more sensitive spot on its surface.
George's hand stopped stroking her thigh now and instead began a gentle massage of her mound, just above the cleft of her cunt. He moved his fingers in tiny circles that dipped down almost, but not quite, into the slit. Nancy held her breath each time his fingers approached; but she let it out with a rush each time his fingers moved away. She tried lifting her body to bring her cunt into contact, but to no avail.
"Don't you like my cunt? Don't you want to touch it?" she asked softly.
"Yes, I do like your cunt, and yes, I would like to touch it. But you still have to suck me off. After that we'll see about your pretty little cunt. For now, relax a few more minutes."
"Relax! I don't think I can."
"Try hard," he said.
Nancy remained lying on her back, feeling his fingers approach her cunt again and again without actually making contact. George was smoking the last of the joint, and out of the corner of her eye Nancy saw him lay the roach in the ashtray. His fingers moved to her cunt once more and Nancy gritted her teeth, expecting them to stop before reaching it. But to her surprise they continued downward. They gently touched the outer portions of the lips of her cunt, separated them, and dipped in deep. Nancy gasped as she felt his fingers slide in all the way to his knuckles, and she squirmed and squeezed the muscles inside to hold them fast. But, as suddenly as they had penetrated, the fingers left her. Nancy let out her pent up breath in a rush.
"It's time to suck me again," George said. "On your knees,-as you were before."
Nancy obeyed, squeezing her thighs together as she slid to the floor to try to extract the last little-bit of pleasure his fingers had given her. But all she felt was the slipperiness of her fluid which had oozed out and now covered the inside of her thighs.
"Take one of my balls into your mouth," George said, and Nancy did as she was told, pressing her lips against one ball, opening her mouth wide, and drawing it in by suction. She heard George groan as she tongued it inside her mouth.
"Now work up to the top of my prick," he said, and Nancy let the ball slide out. Holding his cock in one hand, she licked and kissed around the bottom of the shaft and slowly moved upwards. She felt the veins under the smooth skin, felt them rippling across her tongue as she licked, and she wished that somehow she could actually see the cock inside her mouth as she sucked and licked at it. Once at the top she opened her mouth wide, put the cock inside, and fastened her lips and mouth around it.
She heard George's breathing coming heavier and faster as she sucked, and felt him leaning back on the bed. She thought she heard the sound of a drawer opening, but her face was buried in his pubic hairs and she did not dare stop sucking to look and see what it was. But she found out a moment later.
"Stop sucking and kneel up straight," George said, and Nancy let his wet prick slide out of her mouth. She saw that he held in one hand a length of clothesline, and in the other a battery-powered penis-shaped vibrator.
"What's that for?" she asked, but she knew the answer.
"It's to help you get your rocks off, naturally," he said. He smiled, "You see, I'm feeling lazy right now, or I'd eat you out. But I hate to see a woman working away like you're doing without getting something to show for it. So with this, I can make-you come with just a few twitches of my finger."
Nancy was somewhat mystified as to how he would accomplish it, but he quickly explained. "You'll notice that this vibrator has a little metal loop at the bottom. All I do is pass the clothesline through it, tie one end of the rope around your waist, passing it behind through your legs, and holding on to the other end. I put the vibrator in your cunt, and to make it sink in I just pull up on the clothesline. To make it move out all you have to do is contract the muscles inside your cunt. You can do that, can't you?"
"Yes," Nancy said.
"Very good. Then we're all set."
He quickly rigged up the clothesline and adjusted the vibrator just within the lips of her cunt. He made her start sucking on his cock once more and then flicked the switch to start the plastic penis vibrating. As Nancy pulled his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth she felt the gentle waves of vibration diffusing throughout her groin. It felt like a thin film of sensation; for the vibrator had not yet sunk in deep, but it aroused her and made her cunt long to be filled.
Her wish was granted in an instant. George tugged on the rope, and the vibrator jammed upward into her well-lubricated hole. Now she could feel the vibrations along the entire length of her cunt, and the feeling was spreading throughout her belly: She remembered what George had said and contracted her muscles, forcing out the vibrator and making the sensations more intense. George responded by shoving it in once again, and they set up a steady rhythm, the vibrator moving up and down, entering and withdrawing from Nancy's cunt, making giant waves that coursed from her cunt downward through her legs and upward through her chest, all the way to her throat, where it met George's cock. Nancy felt her whole body enveloped in a warm glow of sex.
In her mind Nancy pictured the artificial prick sliding wetly in and out of her cunt, parting the pink flesh as it moved upward until the tip reached the opening of her womb. She could also imagine his prick, hard, strong, and becoming a deep purple as it filled with blood. She could feel the pressure building in her cunt and knew that she was approaching orgasm, so she redoubled her efforts on George's cock, for she wanted her climax to be spiced by the feel of his come exploding into her throat.
Her tension mounted. George suddenly jerked the rope, driving the vibrator in as deep as possible, and he held it there while Nancy squeezed and pressed her cunt muscles against it, receiving in return a sharpened sense of pleasure from the vibrations. She felt as if a balloon were being inflated inside her, growing larger and larger until she knew her body could contain it no longer. At that instant it burst and sent fleeting darts of pain and pleasure through-out her body, tingling even to her fingertips. From somewhere far away she heard George gasp, and then his come pounded into her mouth, filling it, and she swallowed it all down.
She felt the vibrator slide out of her cunt and heard it clatter onto the floor. Her body felt limp and weak, and in her mouth George's prick was slowly shrinking. She let it slip out of her mouth, gave it a final suck with her lips and a lick with her tongue, and then let her head rest on George's hairy thigh. She told herself that the afternoon had been a success.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nancy's car was not in the garage when Barry Johnson arrived home. He checked his watch to make sure he wasn't early, then shrugged his shoulders. She's , probably out getting laid, he thought, but he wished that she were there. "I feel like getting laid thyself," he said to the empty kitchen.
Nancy breezed in through the front door an hour later. Barry set down his newspaper. "Where've you been?" he inquired.
"Out fucking," she replied, setting down her pocketbook and unbuttoning her blouse. She paused at the third button and looked at him. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not," Barry said. He reached for the newspaper again, reconsidered, and instead unzipped his pants. He pulled out his cock and waved it at her. "You don't feel like fucking a little more, do you?" he asked.
He saw Nancy gaze at his prick and felt it twitch as it began to harden. But then her eyes dropped and she continued to unbutton the blouse.
"Honestly, I'm about fucked out," Nancy said. "You wouldn't believe what we were doing this afternoon. In fact, I'm so tired I'm going to just take a shower and go to bed." She removed the blouse and unsnapped the skirt, letting it fall to her ankles. She stepped out of it, picked it up, and carried both articles of clothing over her arm as she walked to the stairs. She stopped with one foot on the first step and turned around. "We can fuck tomorrow night, if you like, but don't forget: the party is the day after. We want to save ourselves for that."
She continued up the stairs while Barry watched the twin globes of her ass sway and jiggle. When she was out of sight he sighed, then slipped his cock back into his pants. He lit a cigarette.
"But damn it," he said to himself. "What good's a wife if she won't fuck when you need her? I can't complain, though. A lot of women hardly ever let their husbands fuck them, and then they get pissed when the guy goes out to get some action on his own. At least I know that when I come home with lipstick on my collar Nancy will only smile and ask if she was a good lay. Can't beat a woman like that. And she does fuck me most of the time when I want it."
Barry briefly thought about telephoning one of his steady girlfriends, but then decided against it. They're probably all fucking this instant, he thought. I should've called one this afternoon.
He picked up the newspaper once more, trying to ignore the way his dick felt when loaded and primed.
Several hours later he mounted the stairs slowly. He was still horny, and instead of going directly to his room he stopped by Nancy's. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the door, opened it softly, and looked inside.
In the light from the hallway he could see Nancy lying on her back in bed, covered only by a sheet. One hand held the sheet up over her breasts, but he could see the nipples outlined through the fabric. He watched them rise and fall with her breathing. Several wisps of hair had strayed over her face. As he stood watching silently she brushed the hair away in her sleep, then with an audible sigh she rolled onto her side and faced away from him. Barry closed the door quietly and shuffled down the hall to his own room.
He undressed quickly, then turned off the light and opened the blinds so that the morning sun would help him wake up. He glanced through the window at the 'house next door. Harry and Sylvia lived there; he had always wanted to fuck Sylvia but had never managed to pull it off, and he knew that Nancy in turn had always wanted to fuck Harry. He wondered absent-mindedly whether she had ever succeeded. But probably not. Sylvia and Harry always watched each other jealously, and were in fact almost puritanical. Hell, they probably don't even fuck each other, he thought.
After opening the window a crack to let in fresh air Barry turned away and settled heavily into bed.
He tossed about for several minutes and finally lighted a cigarette. He blew smoke rings and thought back to several days before when he had last screwed Shelley, the most steady of his girlfriends. He had known her for eight years and had fucked her at least once every single week during that time. He always felt that there was something missing with her, but she was a great fuck, and her blowjobs were the finest he had ever had. His cock stiffened as he thought of her blond hair flowing over his thighs while her mouth engulfed his cock. He could picture her removing one hand from his cock to brush her hair back behind her ear to give him a better view, and he could see her smile afterwards when she proudly announced that she had gotten every single drop. Then he had eaten her cunt, and finally, to wrap up the evening, they had fucked in the shower, soapy slick with her ass wetly slapping the shower wall with each stroke. He could almost hear her moaning in his ear as he thought about it.
Suddenly, Barry realized that he did hear moaning. It wasn't Nancy; he knew exactly the way she sounded. He thought for a moment that it might be just the wind blowing around the corner of the house. But then he saw the light from Harry and Sylvia's house, and he knew that the sound must be coming from there. He slid out of bed and went to the window.
Looking through the blinds he could see right into their bedroom. The window was half open, and al-though there was a screen it hid nothing.
He could see Harry and Sylvia stretched out on the bed, nude, making love. Harry lay on his side, his right hand caressing her breast, his lips nuzzling her neck. Sylvia's hand was gently stroking his prick.
Barry could hear Sylvia moan gently each time Harry squeezed her breast. Her eyes were closed, and each time she moaned her lips parted slightly. Now she turned her head to the side, so that if her eyes had been open she would have been looking directly through the window at Barry.
Her husband enveloped her ear with his mouth, she moaned again, louder now, and both hands began to fondle his prick.
Barry, watching intently, felt his own prick begin to harden, and without realizing it he grasped it with both hands, just as Sylvia was doing to Harry.
The couple continued to caress each other for a few minutes in the same manner, and then Harry kissed her lower her neck, her shoulders, pausing to kiss and suck on her nipples, then lower once again, down over her belly. His fingers fluttered over her thighs, opening them, and while his lips touched the top of her triangle of dark curly -hair his fir sank into the moist crevice, all the way in at ice-then withdrawing, ,moistening the entire cunt, and sinking in once more. His thumb spread the welling wetness over and around her clit, and soon his lips joined his thumb.
Sylvia's mouth was open and her breasts heaved. Her hands reached out for her husband, touched his chest and slid down, drawing his body around to her until his cock brushed her lips. She kissed it several times; then, after flicking out her tongue to wet her lips, she sucked his cock inside.
As Barry watched the cock sink in he felt his come surging up from his balls. He lost control and let it spurt out over the window, the blinds, and the wall. It glistened in the pale yellow light from the window as it dripped to the floor.
Sighing, Barry turned away from the sight of the two lovers and crawled back into bed. He wiped his hand on the sheet and lay on his stomach, burying his head under the pillow to shut out the moans and cries from next door.
It was seven o'clock Friday night. The five couples rode in two cars to Shore Drive. Barry Johnson drove one car; on the seat beside him was Sharon Lawrence. As they drove Barry stroked the inside of her thigh, pushing her skirt up almost to her cunt. Sharon's husband Peter was also sitting in front, and in back were Carol North, Ed Simmons and Barry's wife Nancy. Fred North drove the second car. Looking in the rear-view mirror Barry could see Fred with Steve White in the right-hand front seat, while Mindy White and Dale Simmons sat in the rear.
They arrived outside the gates of the Shore Drive estate at exactly seven-fifteen. A uniformed guard was on duty. He stopped them and walked to the car window bearing a clipboard. Barry handed him the ten numbered slips of paper which the guard examined for a moment before checking off the numbers on the clipboard.
"You're right on time, sir," the guard said. He reached down to what looked like a walkie-talkie. strapped to his belt and pushed a button. The iron gates swung open. "Go right through and bear right," he said.
The two cars passed through the gates, which closed behind them with a metallic clang.
Sharon giggled nervously. "I feel like we're entering a prison," she said.
Barry squeezed her thigh reassuringly, then moved his hand up to press her cunt. He was surprised to feel the flesh smooth and slick; she had shaved her pussy also. But he rubbed it for a moment while glancing at Peter, who was staring morosely out the side window.
Peter said, still staring away, "It's a prison -- a prison of pleasure." He looked at Barry. "It's true that we can't leave until Sunday?" he asked.
Barry pulled his hand away from Sharon's crotch after scratching her once lightly with his fingernails, smiling when she squirmed. "Yes, it's true," Barry said finally. "We're here for the duration."
"There are worse places to be, I suppose," Peter sighed. "Plenty of booze, plenty of broads -- what more could a man want out of life, I ask you?"
It was Barry's turn to sigh. Then he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, the words unspoken. A few seconds later he repeated Peter's words: "What. more could a man want out of life?"
By seven-thirty the five couples were walking up the grassy slope toward the white mansion. The setting August sun sent shadows from the trees slanting across the lawn, and the light breeze stirred the shadows in time to the music that drifted from in-side the house.
They had left their clothes and all possessions in numbered bags in an outbuilding staffed by more uniformed guards. They had also been given black masks which covered the eyes only, making recognition difficult but still allowing full vision. Barry noted that the masks fitted comfortably and was thankful for that, because they would have to wear them the entire weekend. And it was better that way, Barry thought. He and the rest of his group would recognize each other, of course, having seen each other nude so often and knowing each other so well, but there would be no worry that a casual en-counter during the weekend would turn into an unwanted affair. Only first names were to be given, and everything done would be for fun, with no strings or commitments attached.
"Say, Barry," Ed said when the group was half-way to the house, "did you find out anything more about what's going to be happening?"
"I think I've told you about everything. During the day everyone will be out on the beach or in the pavilion behind the house, and at night things will be happening inside. I think the first floor is sup-posed to be for drinking and dancing and public orgies, the second floor is for private orgies, and the third floor is for couples only. And then the basement is the Perversion Room -- I was told there'll be young boys, girls, animals, you name it. Not to mention an authentic torture chamber."
"You didn't tell us about the basement before," Carol said.
Fred said, "Yes, he did. You were probably playing with yourself when he told us before."
Carol stuck out her tongue. "Well, I sure as hell wasn't playing with you. You don't have anything to play with."
"You don't call this something?" Fred asked, waving his cock and making it come nearly erect.
"I do," said Sharon, reaching out to grab it.
"Oh, get fucked, all of you," Carol said. "I'm heading for the basement." She ran ahead to the house, her ass jiggling.
"Let's all run," Sharon shouted, and she took off, pulling Fred along by the prick. With more shouts and yells the others ran too, leaving Barry behind. He walked slowly, and by the time he reached the house the others had long since disappeared inside.
A distinguished butler clothed in black opened the door for him and stood -aside to let him enter. Barry nodded to the butler and strode through the door. He paused for a moment to adjust to the noise of over a hundred people chattering and screaming, nearly drowning out the music of the two bands which played at either end of the house.
The first floor seemed to consist largely of two rooms, each huge, with a high ceilinged hallway between the two. A spiral staircase was at the rear of the house. Already groups of nude men and women were staggering upstairs.
"And the party's just beginning," Barry said to himself. "I wonder what it'll be like when the rest of the people arrive. Shit, this is going to be a madhouse."
He glanced around to see if he could locate any of his friends, but they seemed to have been swallowed up in the crowd. Then, judging that the room to the right was slightly more subdued, he entered there.
Almost immediately a blonde with huge breasts crashed into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. Her drink, icy cold, spilled over his chest and stomach, making him shiver for an instant.
He started to say, "Excuse me," but the woman planted her lips over his before he had a chance. She kissed him deeply for several minutes while her belly ground against his cock, making it erect, and then she fell to her knees.
"I think I shpilled my drink on your fucking prick," she said drunkenly. "Allow me to clean it up. Here, hold thish." She handed him her drink, and Barry sipped at it while she sucked him off. He came quickly, pumping his come deep into her throat, and when he had finished she continued to try to get more. Barry finally removed his cock from her mouth by stepping backwards, but the woman made a last grab for him. Missing, she fell face down on the floor.
Barry looked down at her for a moment, then placed the drink by her head and stepped over her body. "Thanksh," he heard her call out as he walked away, "that was a lot better than thish scotch."
What the hell am I doing here? Barry thought as he walked to the bar. All these drunks, all these fucked up people -- shit, right now I'd trade it all for a little peace and quiet.
"Ginger ale," he told the red-jacketed bartender after he finally managed to maneuver across the room, and he ignored the bartender's slightly raised eyebrow. "Yes, ginger ale," he repeated, finding that he couldn't ignore the raised eyebrow after all. The bartender handed him the glass hurriedly.
Barry headed for a vacant corner where he could survey the room, but he had no sooner leaned back against the wall than a short bright-eyed girl with curly hair and a plump rounded ass was upon him, her legs around his hips, her big-nippled breasts mashed against his chest, her arms around his neck, and her tongue inside his mouth. She rubbed her wet cunt against his cock until it was hard, and then she shifted until it had penetrated deep inside her pussy. Barry fucked her with as little effort as possible, thrusting once for every four times her hips pounded. When she came she bit his shoulder, and he took a sip of ginger ale while he filled her cunt with come.
By midnight Barry wished that he could wear a sign saying I'm Fucked Out -- Let Me Rest. He thought back over all the women he had fucked, eaten, or been sucked by in the last few hours: the. first drunken one; the plump-assed little one in the corner; a little blonde, surely no more than eighteen, who had had' a talented mouth and a sweet pussy, but who had the mind of a ten-year-old; another cute little blonde, who had said that she didn't really like sex but got horny every time she snorted coke, which she obviously had; a tall older woman with an angular body, who barely responded to his fucking; plus several others who had made so little impression on him that he could remember next to nothing about them. He wondered how many he would fuck by the time the weekend was over.
Barry was wandering Through the first-floor rooms, a glass of warm ginger ale in his hand. He carried a lit cigarette between the fingers of his other hand, and each time he took a drag he stared at the nicotine stains.
The bands had stopped playing half an hour before, so the party, now sustained by the mansion's stereo system, was more subdued. Groups of men and women in various stages of undress were scattered throughout the downstairs, but it -seemed that most people had left for the basement or upstairs.
He saw Peter relaxing on a couch, drink in hand, while a blonde rested her head. in his lap, toying with his prick. As Barry strolled by he heard the blonde' say, "Well; are you going to get it up or aren't you?" Barry went by without waiting to hear Peter's reply.
A group of five women were eating each other in a corner. Barry thought that he could identify Dale and Mindy among them, but he wasn't sure. The scene would ordinarily have interested him, and after watching it for only a few seconds his cock would normally have begun to grow stiff. But now the sight only bored him, so Barry walked on.
He paused by the basement door. Moans, shrieks of pleasure, what sounded like the cracking of leather on a bare ass, and the sensuous beat of bongo drums floated up from the darkness at the foot of the stairs. Barry hesitated, then walked down.
At the bottom he turned and entered a large narrow room illuminated by red lights. A bar was in one corner, tended by a voluptuous brunette clad in a red vest which left her breasts exposed. Half a dozen stools lined the bar; Barry sank into one with a sigh.
The barmaid smiled at him and walked over. She wore red panties pulled tight through the crotch, showing the crack of her cunt, and her breasts jiggled enticingly as she walked. Barry managed a faint smile in response to hers.
"What'll it be?" she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. Then she said quickly, "Anything but me. I'm not available until two o'clock." She smiled once more and winked.
"That's okay," he said, and then, after catching a flash of resentment in her eyes, he went on: "I'm resting for a couple of hours. How about a ginger ale?"
She smiled and scooped ice into a glass. "You're smart," she said as she filled the glass. "Most of these guys are already so plastered they won't be able to get hard again for a week. I was worried that no one would be left by two, and I'd have to go around looking for a dildo. Say, would you watch the bar a minute? I have to go to the john."
Barry nodded his head as he accepted the glass from her hand. Her fingers were cool and felt good as he touched them lightly with his.
He watched her walk off, then turned around and, leaning his back against the bar, looked around the room. There was almost nothing to see. The red lights left the corners shadowed; in one corner Barry thought he could see a couple fucking, but it was too dark to tell for sure.
Doors lined one wall and it was from behind them that the sounds he had heard at the top of the stairs originated. He briefly wondered what was going on behind those doors, and then decided that he wasn't interested. He made up his mind to leave as soon as the barmaid returned. He swiveled back around and rested his elbows on the bar while he sipped the ginger ale.
A few moments later he heard the bongo beat grow louder for an instant before returning to its previous muffled volume, and he knew that a door behind him had been opened and closed. He heard soft footsteps but still did not turn around, and looked the other way as he heard a barstool scraping the floor.
"Is anyone tending the bar?" It was a woman's voice, soft, almost a whisper, and without a single note of harshness. Barry turned toward her.
She sat facing him, one elbow on the bar, the other on the back of the stool, her legs crossed demurely. Her brown hair flowed over her small proud breasts, almost hiding them, but one pert nipple poked through, pointing at him. Her brown eyes beneath the black mask looked at him with polite friendliness, and her lips formed a small quizzical smile.
"She'll be back in a minute," he said. He tried to think of something more to say but couldn't, and so remained silent.
"You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you?" she asked.
Barry laughed as he looked down at his naked body, then glanced up at her once more. "No, I seem to be out of pockets. But there should be some around here somewhere." He looked up and down the bar. "There we are, down at the end. I'll get you one."
He rose and for the first time felt embarrassed by his total nakedness. He kept his prick hidden from her view as much as possible as he walked to the end of the bar and pulled two cigarettes out of the wood-en box. He picked up a book of matches from the bar on the way back.
Her knee brushed his cock as he stood in front of her, lighting her cigarette, and he felt the pleasureful tingling throughout his groin. Her eyes met his as she thanked him. She blew a stream of smoke between her slightly parted lips and Barry felt the urge to kiss them, to let his tongue slide between, them while his fingertips caressed her body. He could almost feel the fluid softness of her cunt enveloping his cock, now stiff and rigid, standing out from his body. He forced himself to return to his seat, trying to ignore his insistent prick and hoping that she wouldn't be offended by it.
"What's going on in there?" Barry asked, motioning toward the doors with a wave of his hand. He hoped that changing the subject would make his cock relax.
"There's a woman giving a dog a blowjob," she said with obvious distaste. "It didn't turn me on very much."
"Did she like it?"
"I imagine so. She acted like she did. So did the dog and everyone watching. Everyone but me. That's why I left."
There was a moment of silence. Each took a drag of cigarette s poke and blew it out. "What's your name?" Barry asked suddenly.
"Ellen," she said. "And yours?"
"Barry," he said, and fell silent once more.
His cock had not decreased in size, as much as he wanted it to, but-Ellen gave no sign of having noticed it. She continued to smoke her cigarette.
She shook her head, throwing her hair back over her shoulders and leaving her breasts naked. Barry felt a surge of delight when he noticed that her nipples were hard and pointed. He watched her unconsciously brush the palm of her hand over her right breast and he wished that he could do that. But he was at a loss for words, and he felt that she wouldn't approve of him reaching out for her and grabbing her without her consent.
"She doesn't seem to be coming back," Ellen said after a few more minutes of waiting. "I'm going up-stairs."
"May I come with you?" Barry asked, the words spurting out without thinking.
Ellen smiled gently. "Yes, of course. Come."
As they walked upstairs side by side Barry felt her hand slide into his. He squeezed it and was rewarded by an answering pressure, and then her fingers began to play over the back of his hand while her thumb rubbed back and forth over his palm. His cock stiffened even more with the thought of her doing it to him there.
"Where would you like to go?" she asked when they were on the first floor.
Barry felt himself growing bolder. "Somewhere where we can be alone. Very alone." He whispered the words into her ear, feeling wisps of hair brushing his lips.
Ellen turned to face him and stood inches away. His cock was at the level of her stomach, almost, but not . quite, touching her. Her nipples were scant inches from his chest and he knew that they would feel very good mashed against him.
She cocked her head to one side and rested one cool hand on his shoulder. "I hear that the rooms on the third floor are private," she said.
"Yes," Barry replied.
"Come."
Barry walked behind as they mounted the spiral staircase. Her hips swayed almost imperceptibly with each step, enticing him, and between her legs he could see the feathery ends of her brown pubic hairs. The globes of her ass were white where a bathing suit had covered them, but the rest of her skin was tanned a deep brown. Tiny downy hairs glistened at the base of her spine. Barry moistened his lips and reached forward to kiss her there. He felt her shudder.
On the third floor they walked until they found a vacant room. A candle burned on a night table which stood beside a huge double bed, the only furnishings in the room. As they stepped inside Ellen pushed the door shut and, with the same motion, swept her arms around him. They kissed. Barry was conscious only of her lips and tongue touching his, her breasts against his chest, and her warm belly pressing against his hard cock.
Her lips and tongue were nimble and active, and incredibly soft. They fluttered inside his mouth, around his lips, and over his face. Then she moved downward.
With little sucking kisses she smothered his neck and moved lower through the hair on his chest. Barry's breath came, quickly and turned to rapid panting as her lies touched his hairy belly and her hands cupped his -balls. Then his cock was inside her mouth and she was sucking, alternating swirls of her tongue with gentle suction, making it almost impossible for him to keep from coming.
"Stop." Barry forced himself to say it lest he come without satisfying her also. He gently pushed her head away. She rose from her knees and kissed him once more on the lips.
"Lie down," Barry said. "I want to make love to you."
"How about with me?" she asked as she sat on the side of the bed and then lay back.
"That'll be fine too," Barry said.
He lay on his side beside her and took her into his arms, mustering all his knowledge of pleasing a woman. While they kissed he ran his fingers through her hair, circling her ears with his fingertips, gently caressing the nape of her neck where the hair was softest, and touching lightly the smooth skin on her back. Her fingers did the same to him.
He kissed her body for what seemed like hours. Once he was sure he had kissed every square inch of her head he moved lower, pausing at her breasts to suck on the nipples and flick at them with his tongue, then down to her belly, where he licked at her navel for a moment. He rested his lips in the midst of her cunt hair, letting warm breath play over her, but he bypassed her cunt for the time being.
Each thigh received its share of attention, and likewise each calf. She squirmed and giggled as he started to touch the soles of her feet. He pushed her over onto her stomach and moved upwards: the back of her legs, with special care to the hollows behind her knees; her rounded ass, where he let his tongue dip into the crack; and over her back, not neglecting to kiss and lick her smooth-shaven armpits. He finished by wriggling his tongue up her spine from where it began amid the downy hairs up to the base of her neck. She shivered as his tongue passed between her shoulder blades.
"Now it's your turn," she whispered as she rolled over. Barry obediently lay on his back, his arms stretched out, his legs spread slightly. He marvelled at the silky softness of her skillful mouth as she wetly kissed his body, and he tried without success to recall when a woman had aroused him as much as Ellen was doing. He wished he had met her years before.
When she reached his feet and rolled him over, her hand slid underneath and gently grasped his balls. She tugged at them lightly while she continued her kissing, making him squirm with pleasure.
The circuit complete, they lay on their sides facing each other. Ellen's hand rested on Barry's prick, while his hand was on her hip. As if magnetized, they drew closer.
"I'm all wet," Ellen murmured, and she rubbed the head of Barry's prick against the outer lips of her cunt to prove it. He felt her cunt warm, swollen and soaking.
Raising her leg, she let his cock penetrate her cunt. It slid in easily, pushing aside the soft folds of flesh as it entered, and when the cunt had accepted the full length of the cock Barry and Ellen remained still, touching each other with only the joined cunt and cock. Barry/deft Ellen tighten the muscles inside her, squeezing his prick with her warm, wet flesh.
They began to move in a slow and easy rhythm. Barry let his cock almost slide out of her cunt before pausing and then plunging it back to the hilt quickly. Ellen gasped each time he did that.
They gained momentum. Their bellies slapped as the prick shot back and forth within the cunt. Ellen's hands clawed at Barry's back as she made him roll on top of her to let him fuck her more fully.
Ellen screamed when she came the first time, and as the scream died out her breath came in hard pants amid its echoes. "Come with me the next time, Barry," she pleaded, and he redoubled his efforts.
Barry slid both hands under her ass to guide her movements. Each time his cock was sunk in completely he pulled her ass closer and felt her cunt juice squishing out to mingle with his pubic hairs.
"I'm coming again," Ellen cried, and she pulled his head down, burying it in her hair, while she sunk her teeth into his shoulder.
Barry moved his hips furiously, pounding his cock inside her. When he felt himself about to come he pulled her ass tightly up against him, jamming his cock in as deep as it could possibly go, and as his body stiffened he felt his come jerkily' spurting from the tip of his cock, losing itself in the deep warmth of her cunt. He felt himself seemingly suspended in midair for a moment; then, with a sigh, he collapsed on top of her.
Neither spoke for several minutes as they let their breathing return to normal. Finally Barry picked up his head. With his hand he brushed her hair away from his sweating face and did the same for her. He smiled down into her face before rolling off. His body tingled as he felt a draft drying the sweat.
Ellen broke the silence. "Barry," she said sweetly, "do you think we could spend the rest of the week-end together?"
Before he could answer there came a clamor from the hallway. The door was flung open and five naked men rushed in, yelling and screaming: "Women! We need women! We're having an orgy and we need women!" The men rushed to the side of the bed. "There's one!" they shouted, and before Barry's astounded eyes the men picked Ellen up bodily and thew her across the shoulders of two of them, carrying her like a log. "Women! We need more women!" they shouted as they rushed back into the hall as quickly as they had come.
Barry's eyes met Ellen's as she was borne through the doorway. The eyes seemed to plead for rescue, but Barry was too stunned to move. By the time his wits and strength returned and he managed to make it to the hallway, the five men and Ellen had disappeared.
