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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Open Marriage Chronicles
By Bill & Ellen (address withheld)
***
The story of Ellen and Bill's swinging lifestyle,
purported to be true. (MF, cpls, swingers, size,
alcohol)
***
Author Note: This is a story of a series of events
covering one and one half years of our married life.
This essentially true, just as it happened. All names
have been changed to protect the guilty.
***
CHAPTER 1 Florida Heat
We were vacationing on Florida's west coast when I
suggested to Ellen that she should date others. After 8
years of marriage, we'd had no serious arguments, but
now she was irritated.
We were discussing this a half hour before sunset while
we were in our swim wear, washing our Porsche on the
narrow strip of grass separating the rented house and
the beach. She calmed down, then laughed, convinced
that his wasn't a ploy to allow me to fool around.
She'd been so opposed to the suggestion that I was
surprised when she finally caved in, agreeing, "Okay,
Bill. I'll consider it. But it's a dumb idea."
I breathed liked I'd just run a mile and said, "All I
ask is that you tell me about the dates." She smirked
doubtfully, but her eyes were telling me that her anger
had been supplanted by an excited imagination. Before
we'd married, Ellen had been a beach wear and cosmetics
model. A daughter of a Presbyterian minister, she
didn't smoke and had never drunk alcohol.
Now, thanks to dieting and Bally, her measurements were
the same as when I'd met her. She's 5'8", has waist-
length black hair, the rare color of brilliant, gray
eyes, and a figure that turns men's heads. Here in her
white string bikini, she looked even more appealing.
The car now shined like new. I was lifting the portable
vacuum when we glanced toward a young blond man, his
fist gripping a sketch pad as he walked up from the
beach. He was wearing a light blue button-down shirt
with epaulets and khaki safari slacks. He introduced
himself as Greg, an art student at a local college. He
asked directions to a nearby diner. With his tall,
lithe body and tanned face, he looked more like a
surfer than an artist.
Bending to pick up the chamois and her white hip-length
terry robe, Ellen smiled. She was appraising Greg's
handsome features. Her nervous blush looked like an
advanced case of sunburn. She tossed me a quizzical
nod. I picked up her cue and grinned toward Greg, "We
haven't eaten either." Turning to Ellen, I blurted,
"How about inviting this starving student over for
dinner?"
Ellen beamed, agreeing enthusiastically, "Terrific
idea," and turning to Greg, offered, "How about
lobster?"
He declined politely, but upon Ellen's urging, finally
nodded affirmatively, "Lobster sounds great. Thanks." I
walked behind Greg. His gaze followed Ellen's tall,
beach-robed figure up the pebbled flagstones to the
back door. In the dimly lit kitchen, Ellen slipped on
her white high-heeled pumps, accentuating her long
legs.
Although shy, Greg turned frequently to look at her as
she prepared dinner. He was living with two roommates
in a rented duplex two blocks from the college. He knew
little about sports, and I knew even less about art; so
the conversation was strained until Ellen joined us.
After dinner, she took a shower, then returned in a
low-cut dark blue robe to sit on the floor between me
in a chair and Greg on the couch. She was wearing
nothing beneath the satiny material that clung to her
body, contouring her nipples.
I set chips and dip on the rattan coffee table and
opened a bottle of white wine for Greg and me and a
diet soda for Ellen. There was no mistaking the sexual
electricity irradiating between them. Their eyes locked
as they exchanged stories of their lives "before
Florida." His gaze fell now and then to her bared leg
and to the smooth midnight-blue material that exposed
the pale sides of her breasts.
Occasionally a word would catch in their throats. Both
swallowed in excitation when their hands brushed as she
offered him potato chips, her hand lingering to touch
his. Because Greg was lean and hardened, I doubted that
he usually ate snacks. But now, he didn't refuse any,
allowing him another opportunity to caress her hand.
She asked him to teach her some basic sketching rules,
suggesting that they do so in what Floridians called
the "Florida room." In Long Island, we called it a den.
She preceded him into the room, tuned the stereo to a
soft FM station, then came out to search for a bottle
of champagne and two glasses. She whispered her plan to
me. She returned to Greg, closing the door.
As she suggested, I slipped out of the house, drove the
car a block away, locked it, and sprinted back to an
area between the darkened hedge and the Florida room's
broad shuttered window. All other lights in the house
were now turned off. The summer heat had allowed us to
keep the glass shutters open, so I could almost
everything they said.
I was wondering how she'd handle champagne as I watched
her sipping her half-empty glass. She was curled
alongside him on the couch. Their conversation
diminished to whispers and soft laughter. She glanced
beyond the window but was unable to see me in the
darkness. Turning to Greg, she pursed her lips and
inquired, "Do you like to dance?" When he murmured he
didn't know how to slow-dance, she offered to teach
him. He accepted. His speech was slurred from the
champagne's intoxication.
She turned the dimmer switch. A soft glow bathed the
room as she held out her hand, beckoning him. They
swayed together, her cheek brushing his.
He stroked her hair. He held her a moment after the
second song ended, then turned away to drink the last
of his champagne.
Ellen's face was flushed now. Her soft lips trembled
with fear and passion as she danced slowly with Greg.
She swallowed nervously, glancing to his engorged
manhood surging beneath his slacks. Another melody
drifted from the stereo. She closed her eyes as he
reached for her. The tips of her fingers traced a
sensuous path down his neck. Her mouth formed an "oh"
as her lips touched his. Ellen's hips were gyrating in
eager passion.
Greg opened her robe, sliding it from her shoulders.
Her nipples were erect. Her body trembled in excitation
as the robe fluttered to the floor. She blushed as he
pulled her to him, his lips crushing hers.
Ellen's hands shook as she removed his shirt. Her legs
shaking, she sank to her knees to unbuckle his belt.
She pulled his slacks down his long legs, her full lips
brushing his chest and stomach.
The largest member she'd ever seen burst free. She
gulped fearfully, her eyes widened in disbelief.
Now, on her knees and cringing in terrified awe as
Greg's long cock swayed before her, she looked like a
sacrificial virgin worshiping at a serpentine altar.
Shuddering, she licked her crimson lips. Her full pale
breasts were rippling with passion. I could feel the
desire radiating between them as her mouth strained to
encircle his shaft that was curving up from the tuft of
blond pubic hair. Ellen was moaning. Her hips were
rolling back and forth like waves on the beach.
Greg gaped at his glistening manhood. The fullness of
her lips glided along its length. As he glanced to the
pulsing blue numbers of a shelf-top's digital clock,
"What if your husband returns early from work?"
She muttered, her soft voice quaking, "He won't. He
works near Tampa Bay and won't be home until eight in
the morning."
He lifted her from the floor, then lowered her to the
couch, tasting her melon-like breasts. He sucked each
firm, reddened nipple until they stood out like spikes.
Her face was burning, her breath hissing like a
radiator.
Ellen pressed her breast's soft ripeness against his
face, her cries of pleasure piercing the room's air.
She squeezed his cock, its purple, bulbous head surging
inches beyond the breadth of her small fist. Mewing in
ardor, she had forgotten that I was watching.
I envied Greg's length. My shaft was now as hard as his
as I unzipped and pulled it from my slacks, pumping
slowly.
He pushed her trembling legs apart. Her pale coral
mound pulsated. I realized then that she'd shaved her
public hair while in the shower.
His lips grazed her swollen clitoris, causing her body
to shimmy. She rotated her smoothness against his mouth
as he moved up her body. And finally, his tongue was
twirling against hers.
My chest heaved in excitement as he mounted her.
Her body shivered, her eyes following the downward path
of his shaft. Her eager cunt quivered upward to touch
the intrusive member. She moaned. Tears of pleasure
pooled in her eyes as his broad cock-head pushed
through her creaming cuntal folds. Her fervid tunnel
now engulfed his shaft as she hissed, "Oh GOD! I'm on
FIRE!" Her trembling thighs caressed his back, reeling
him in.
And then, she was wailing with lust. He pistoned deep
within her. Ellen thrashed her head from side to side.
Her hips swirled as she reveled in his heated fucking.
Swinging her legs around his shoulders, she pressed her
back against the cushions, squealing, her eyes
glistening with tears. Her face registered surprise
with each steaming entry of his massive cock. Her voice
quavering, she whimpered, "Oh, GOD! GREG! I've never
FELT like this!"
Thrusting into her quaking pussy, Greg was immersed in
the culmination of their lust. His jaw slackened. His
chest heaved as he looked down on her rolling eyes. He
moaned unintelligible noises I could remember making as
a young marine fucking women who were never as gorgeous
as Ellen! I couldn't have imagined being with a woman
that beautiful! A MARRIED woman!
Her body shimmied. Unable to tear her eyes away from
the monstrous cock ramming into her shaved pussy, she
cried, "Oh Greg, I LOVE your cock! God HELP me! I LOVE
FUCKING YOU!"
I was drugged with a time-stilling sensation as she
rolled, pulling Greg beneath her.
Straddling him, she slowly impaled herself on his cock,
her fiery well of passion sucking in his long steaming
poker.
Gaping at her cuntal folds enveloping his firm manhood
as she bucked against him, Greg murmured, "I love it
too, Ellen. I love fucking YOU!"
I now leaned against the window so closely, I could
smell the perspiration steaming from their inflamed
bodies. I was stroking my elongated member in rhythm
with my heart, which was thumping like a sledgehammer.
Greg disengaged. Pushing Ellen to her knees on the
carpet, he mounted her from the rear. She reached
behind, allowing her trembling fingers to stroke his
length. Feeling his enormous hardness, she cried out in
yearning!
She braced her arms against the carpet, spreading her
knees to accommodate the large tool entering her cunt.
She gasped. Her mouth and eyes widened as he pushed
deeper. She was shuddering, aflame with desire. Her
voice quaking, she pleaded, "Oh, JESUS, Greg! GIVE it
to me! I NEED your cock!" With tears streaming down her
face, she pleaded for every inch of the monster that
was thrusting deep into her lubricated pussy. Although
he was entering her for the second time, she squealed,
"Oh GOD! You're splitting me APART!" Her eyes were
wild, her body flaming in a crimson blush. But when
he'd sunk his shaft its full length, she wailed, "Oh,
YES! Greg! YES-S-S!"
Now, as they united in blazing passion, she was
sobbing. They were thrashing about like hellish demons.
The yolks of her eyes rolled. She fucked back against
him wildly in long strokes, shuddering as his large
balls slapped the mounds of her buttocks. I'd never
seen Ellen so overcome with lust!
The sheer joy of watching them was incredible! Until
that night, I'd never heard my wife swear, but now,
white hot with passion, she was brazenly pleading, "Oh
GOD DAMN! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, GREG! OH JESUS!" Ellen was
rolling her head in wide circles. Her eyes told me she
felt the onrushing orgasm that would soon overtake
them. The smell of their sex permeated the warm night
air.
And then Greg, his face contorted, was shrieking, "I'm
coming! Oh, GOD!" He lifted his head high and groaned,
increasing his tempo.
Her soft lips ovaled with each entry. Ellen was
positively radiant as she turned to look at him. His
hips hammered the roundness of her buttocks. She
matched each thrust as she told him, "Oh, GOD! It's so
GREAT, Greg! Come WITH me! I LOVE it! I love YOU! Oh
yes, I LOVE YOU!" Her blissful moans registered the
expectant orgasm. Even Greg and I could feel the
explosion building within her.
And then it came! The sexual thunder was surging
through them like an avalanche. She shut her eyes
tightly as they sobbed in unison, their bodies and
minds intertwined in cosmic eruptions.
I was coming for an eternity. I hadn't realized how
loudly I'd groaned until moments later when Greg walked
over to lean against the back of the couch and peer out
the window. He was startled a moment but then grinned,
"I didn't know you were still here. Was it okay?" He
was asking for my approval, not whether I'd enjoyed it.
I zipped my fly. "I'd asked Ellen to give herself to
you. I hope you don't feel used."
He breathed, "I've never had a greater gift."
I believed him. I walked to the door. Ellen greeted me,
her gray eyes ablaze in lust. Her breath huffed in
short bursts as she removed my clothes. Grasping Greg's
and my shafts, she led us to the shower. A dim light
filtered through the door from the hallway. Beneath the
pounding water, our mouths and tongues pleasured Ellen
until the water heater gave up.
Now, burning with desire, we toweled off and stumbled
to the bedroom. Ellen took turns with us until, finally
exhausted, she crawled to Greg, placed her elbows on
his chest and looked into his eyes as if in worship. "I
love you," she told him as she stroked my cock behind
her. "I love Bill, but I also love YOU. Can you
understand that?" I wasn't jealous. Her revelation told
me just how much the experienced had meant to her.
I wish I could say that we were with Greg many more
times, but we left our vacation cottage the next day. A
letter we'd mailed to Greg was returned, stamped
"Addressee has moved. Current address unknown."
However, the experience changed our lives. As things
turned out, she met two other young men who reminded
her a great deal of Greg - David who lives near us, and
Brad who visited us with his parents from Long Island.
But those are Ellen's stories, and she wants to tell
you herself.
Only later did I realized my desire to share Ellen had
long been within me. My voyeuristic tendencies, the
pleasure I have from other men enjoying her beauty,
were manifestations of this. I think I relive my
original attraction to her through other men. Ellen now
admits she enjoys our lifestyle, somehow understanding
that I'd always taken pride in watching others admire
her. It's not just to please me; she loves being fucked
by other men - and when possible - allowing me to
watch.
Even now, a year later, each seduction is a unique
experience. With each liaison, another threshold is
crossed - into what Ellen describes as the land of
mega-lust. As bizarre as our lives may seem to others,
the arrangement has had an interesting side effect. I
haven't once considered cheating.
Frankly, affairs with other women could never be as
exciting.
CHAPTER 2: Visit, Now The Fire
People who move to Florida learn to expect visitors
from the north. Early this summer, friends whom Bill
and I had known in Long Island visited us for three
days. Darryl and Rita are the only couple to whom we
have confided that Bill and I have an "open marriage."
With them was their beautifully blond son, Brad, who at
6'4" is an inch taller than Bill. Talented academically
and athletically, Brad was now in his second year of a
community college basketball scholarship. I learned
later he was a rare breed of another type, a virgin.
The day before they were to drive on to Key West on the
narrow, 120-mile-long highway above the Atlantic, we
boated, water-skied, and swam in our lake. After a late
evening backyard picnic, Darryl and Rita were
exhausted, trudging off to bed at ten p.m.
Brad joined Bill and me for our nightly two-mile jog
through the neighborhood. At the outer edge of a street
lamp's yellow glow a few blocks away, Brad told me my
elastic headband was tearing and about to break. We
stopped as I removed it. Bill didn't notice we'd
dropped back until he was a block away; so he waited
for us to catch up.
Brad retied the elastic strands. As he replaced it, he
accidentally brushed by cut-off tee shirt, feeling the
softness of my breasts. His face reddened beneath the
street lamp's glare as he apologized, "Sorry, Ellen."
He stretched the band around my hair.
As his fingers brushed my ears longer than necessary,
his eyes darted across my bare midriff.
I smiled appreciatively, biting my lower lip. I began
to realize how handsome Brad was. He was the type of
young man every twelve-year old boy would want to
emulate, the perfect basketball star for a movie
studio's central casting.
We caught up with Bill, Brad running a little behind
me, then me behind Bill.
When we returned to the house, I noticed that Brad's
manhood had swelled, curving up beneath his running
shorts. His member seemed extraordinarily long, but I
assumed this to be an illusion of the loose folds of
his shorts. I think Brad saw me glance down at his
hardness as I muttered, "Good night. See you in the
morning."
We went upstairs. As I walked from the shower behind
Bill to our bedroom, I noticed Brad had left the door
to his room open. Darryl and Rita were in the
downstairs bedroom. Brad's room was next to ours.
In bed, I whispered to Bill what I'd observed.
He grinned, telling me he'd noticed Brad had a semi-
erection that afternoon while watching me water-ski or
just walk around in my string bikini. Bill added, "I'm
sure you're right about his length. I even think that
Tom's nine inches might be dwarfed by Darryl's and
Rita's son." I smiled at the mention of Tom, an
employee of Bill's who'd served under Bill in the
marines; the length of Tom's manhood had long been a
topic he'd been kidded about. Bill went on, "I'd
assumed the reason Brad was running behind us was just
to admire your figure."
Bill's a "watcher" who enjoys watching me engage in
adultery with other men - or just telling him about
occasional dates I have with Bill's permission.
Although that had been Bill's idea at first, I now
adore this arrangement. But, I sometimes feel a bit
guilty when I consider that Bill hasn't once been with
another woman.
Never one to miss an opportunity, Bill rose from bed
quietly and opened our bedroom door. He returned to
bed, dialed our own phone number, clicked down the
receiver-button, and waited for the telephone to ring.
Of course, all one receives when doing this is a
telephone company recording telling the caller that
he's dialed his own number.
Bill "answered" the imaginary caller, then murmured a
few business-like remarks. He concluded with, "Sure, I
can come down to the warehouse." Hanging up, he
explained with a wink, "My employees found some
inventory problems. The comptroller says I should be at
warehouse-supply while they finish up the count. I'll
call you on our bedroom line before I come home at
seven a.m. to make sure I don't wake anyone too early."
Bill was perfect. Brad heard every word.
Bill drove a block away, parked the car, quietly
reentered the house through the back door, and climbed
the stairs with the grace of a cat to our room.
Whispering his plan, he positioned himself behind the
door to our walk-in closet.
As he suggested, I let my nightgown puddle onto the
floor, pulled my transparent white negligee over my
nudity and walked past Brad's open door to the bath. I
brushed my teeth, clanked around a few bottles to make
sure Brad heard, then walked back down the hallway.
When I was in front of Brad's door, I turned casually
to the window, my back to Brad, to look out over our
large oak tree to the lake. I glimpsed the window's
glass reflection; Brad sat up, watching me from his
bed. I was hoping he would find some reason to join me
in the hallway.
I waited less than a minute. Brad would later tell me
he was burning with passion as he lay naked on his bed,
staring through his door, his long erect manhood
pushing his sheet a foot toward the ceiling.
I untied the ribbons at the neck of my transparent
negligee, allowing it to fall open. The warm wind
shuddered the leaves of the old oak tree, causing a
branch to brush against the window pane. I heard a
squeak, then a shuffle as he rose from his bed.
He padded into the moonlit hallway, a large, bright red
towel wrapped around his hips. Pretending he didn't
know I'd been standing there, he apologized, "Oh,
sorry, Ellen. I was just going to the bath." His
engorged member was curving upward, pushing the crimson
towel out an unbelievable length, straight toward me!
I turned, nervously. My nudity was revealed through the
negligee's open sheerness.
Brad stared down, whispering as his eyes surveyed my
body, "What time is it?" His sexual tension was
palpable.
I whispered softly, "Eleven-thirty. Beautiful view of
the water from here, isn't it?" My throat pulsated. I
gulped, staring at the form of his large penis
protruding beneath the towel.
His eyes glinted. He responded with strained
casualness, "Yes, everything's beautiful here."
We whispered small talk, each pretending not to notice
the other's nudity, yet fearfully aware of the other's
forbidden excitation. I placed my hand on his warm,
muscular shoulder as we looked out the window. Finally,
his arm slithered softly around my waist, beneath my
negligee. I exhaled, gasping at the electricity as his
warm nakedness touched mine.
And there we stood, talking in low voices about the
moonlit scene, each knowing we shouldn't, while
pretending we weren't. Tremors rippled through our
bodies. I stretched and yawned, my fingers brushing his
towel-covered manhood. The towel bounced wildly! Until
then, I'd convinced myself that his size was an
illusion. Now, I gasped in fear!
I murmured, my voice quaking, "Sweet dreams, Brad. I'm
going to bed." My throat was choked with desire. I
kissed him, motherly-like, on a cheek. My bared breast
brushed the smoothness of his shoulder. I was
breathless as I walked shakily to my bedroom, my knees
trembling.
He entered the bath, ran a couple of minutes of water,
and padded softly back toward his room. He could see me
laying on my side, nude, at the hallway's end through
my open door.
Brad lingered in the hall until deciding I was asleep.
He walked to my door. Removing the flame-red towel, he
draped it over a shoulder. He swallowed nervously as he
surveyed my curves. His chest was heaving, both with
fear of being caught and boyish excitement. His
incredible hardness curved upward, bobbing in
excitation. I'm sure he felt cleverly successful,
sneaking this sight of my nudity as he leaned against
the door jamb.
I don't often think about my looks, but I'm aware that
my face and body are what others consider beautiful. I
realized the effect that this was having on this
incredibly naive boy. Shuddering I gazed through half-
closed eyelids at his wide shoulders and the lengthy
cock curving up from his thick patch of blond hair. As
if tossing in my sleep, I stretched out my right leg,
pushing my left knee toward him. I bent my left arm
along my side to allow him the full view of my breasts
and shaved mound.
His jaw sagged. His eyes widened. He gazed upon my
body, shadowed in stripes by the moonlight spilling
through the Venetian blinds. His cock twitched. He
pressed his hands against the door jamb as if he were
about to faint.
I rolled to my back and whispered, my voice shaking,
"Come in, Brad."
He was flustered at being discovered until realizing
that my own passions throbbed with the erotic intensity
of his own. He walked in softly, closing and locking
the door. He sat alongside me, asking, "You don't
mind?"
Did I MIND! ME? In the unquenchable flames of throbbing
passion? Oh sure, I did. My body was beyond control.
Hell's fire was coursing through my veins. I remembered
a fleeting memory of my grandmother telling me when I
was young girl, how our family's gray-eyed ancestors
were once believed to be witches. I knew I couldn't
have been a witch; witches purportedly could control
the supernatural. I couldn't even control my own
exploding desire!
My full lips quivered as I looked upon the largest cock
I'd ever seen, curving up like a Turkish scepter from
Brad's absolutely perfect body. How could a woman MIND!
I was being offered the opportunity to worship at the
serpentine alter of his perfect bodily temple.
Radiating with passion, I moaned, reaching for the
magnificent instrument bobbing before me.
My fingers didn't meet as my hand curved around its
rubbery thickness. My face burned madly as I gazed upon
the incredible manhood I was squeezing.
My body was now ablaze! I was wide-eyed with fear and
passion. With trembling hands, I stroked his monstrous
hardness. My quivering lips parted as he leaned to kiss
me.
He murmured, a tremor in his tight voice, "I've never
been with a woman. You're so beautiful." It was as if
he were apologizing for his shaking, his white-hot
passion as evident as my own.
I glanced to the closet door Bill had left ajar. I was
unable to see my husband, but I knew he would now be
feeling my own mad desire, pumping his hardened cock in
the closet's darkness.
I closed my eyes as I relished Brad's hands exploring
the soft curves of my body. My nipples tingled as his
lips closed around a hard reddened spike. Impassioned
fear churned in my stomach. I gasped as his slippery
tongue twisted and winded its way to my shaved mound.
Thrusting my hips to his face, I grinded my softness
against his mouth, my heart pounding a wanton drum beat
as his tongue twirled over my clitoris. I wailed at the
thrills rippling through me like an electric current
coursing across a thunder-laden sky. Tears of joy
streaked along my cheeks. Clasping my thighs around his
ears, I dug my heels into his back as fiery explosions
blossomed within.
I pulled him above me until his knees were straddling
my breasts. He braced his arms against the headboard.
My lips encircled his rubbery monster, my head bobbing
as my tongue glided along its length. Now, beyond lust,
I was WORSHIPING this broad, purplish cock thrusting
down my throat.
His hips hammered his instrument into my mouth until my
passion was unbearable. The bulging veins throbbed
against the walls of my mouth.
My voice was muffled by his broad sword. I pleaded,
"Mphhh! Please, Brad, I WANT you!" He pressed my back
into the rustling warm folds of soft sheets. My full
breasts rippled beneath his touch.
Red coals of passion smoldered in my vagina. My hips
gyrated expectantly. My long legs now opened, eagerly
inviting the marbled curvature of his cock that hovered
above the lips of my vagina. Realizing the length and
breadth of this incredible manhood, I was whimpering
with fright at it invaded my cuntal folds.
I cried! He was splitting me apart!
Shocks rippled through my groin as he pressed on,
expanding my vaginal walls. Yet, I'd rather have died
than have him stop now. I was loving every inch of the
massive locomotive puffing through my smoking tunnel.
Brad was clearly aware of my difficulty, although I
sobbed as much in pleasure as in pain. Then, he was as
far into my gushing depths as he could push. His
manhood was throbbing as he moved with my rhythm. I
wailed as he rode me with a fury!
I whimpered, "It's so WONDERFUL!" My cunt was now
burning in the forbidden fires, my pain disappearing,
supplanted by pleasure. My long legs, toned by months
of running and swimming, enveloped his smooth torso as
my cunt rose to meet his steaming thrusts. My depths
had never been so filled! Tears streaked across my
cheeks like rivulets of rain on the windshield of a
speeding car. My ankles locked around his strong back.
My blinding passion mounted ever higher.
In the stunning thrills of Brad's fucking, I'd
forgotten Bill. But as I thrashed my head side to side,
I glimpsed my husband's nude form step from the closet
to watch the magnificent weapon invading my quivering
cunt. Bill was transfixed by the awesomely erotic
sight. Logic and will abandoned me. I was far too lost
in this passionate hurricane to acknowledge my husband
by smiling at him as I normally would while he pumped
his engorged cock.
Brad's eyes rolled as he plunged into my poised cunt. I
opened my mouth widely as if this could expand my
channel further to accept his final inches.
As Bill stared, his jaw sagged. He was pumping his full
length furiously as Brad and I pulsated with an inner
radiance toward an impending explosion. My husband's
eyes told me that his mind and Brad's were now one.
Brad's flames were now united with mine into a blazing
inferno. Our eyes were glazed. We shuddered with each
quaking thrust.
The awesome orgasm was rushing toward us like an
avalanche!
Sobbing, I mewed, "Oh! FUCK me! FUCK me! FUCK ME-E-E-
E!" My will was immersed beneath raging tides that
coursed through my body. I screamed, "Oh, god HELP me,
Brad! I LOVE you, Brad! I LOVE YOU!"
I loved him, loved in adultery. Uniting in flesh that
which was now in our minds and souls. The onrushing
orgasm gathered force like a runaway tornado. I pulled
him tighter with my legs, lurching my hips against his.
He rammed his tool to the hilt, crushing my clitoris
against the base.
I screamed, "Oh, JESUS! I FEEL it! You're in so FAR! I
WANT you blasting within me!"
And then, oh GOD, it HAPPENED! In a blinding flash, we
were coming in thunderous waves, bursting in a
supernova of pleasure. I went wild with joy. His warm
fluids burst within me.
My mind was exploding in fiery fragments that spider-
legged like a million falling stars across the evening
skies.
Brad lay across my breasts in the blissful afterglow of
our adultery, our arms intertwined for an eternity of a
half-minute until I remembered Bill.
Bill had returned to the closet and closed the door.
Because of my now unquenchable desire, my husband would
have to remain there until morning. Brad was mine alone
for that incredible night.
Brad turned me to my knees, my hands braced on our
headboard. His massive member was entering my vagina
from the rear.
I turned to stare, awed by his long cock. Watching the
instrument pushing deeply into my excitedly lubricated
cunt, I spread my knees ever wider. The breadth of his
penis filled me. I sobbed in pleasure, my hand trembled
as I caressed his length behind me.
He slowly thrust into me until I was whimpering with
pleasure, "I love you, Brad! I LOVE you!" And then, he
was riding me wildly! I was screaming like a helpless
victim on a runaway roller coaster, the yolks of my
eyes rolling.
I sucked in my breath at the stunning sensations. As he
fucked into my depths, I stared back, my lips wide with
wonder. I couldn't tear my vision from the magnificent
cock that was skewering me! We shared a sigh.
His manhood was growing even greater, expanding in the
oncoming orgasm like gas in an overfilled balloon. I
gasped. My clitoris fluttered as if to tell me we would
be coming together in a mind shattering finale! My back
arched expectantly as my long nails dug into his hips
behind me. I could feel every throbbing inch as he
plunged through my inflamed walls.
And then we were exploding in rapture! Crying with wild
abandon, I shuddered amid the earth quake of my climax.
His hot semen burst through my channel. The creamy
fluid splattered my inner walls, washing over his cock.
He was erupting like a volcano with no end to its
molten flow of lava. A starburst of pleasure exploded
within my body.
He didn't stop, nor did I want him to! Brad fucked me
voraciously for hours in every imaginable position. He
was the first person to ever outlast my stamina. Until
that night, I thought that I was insatiable.
Finally in the predawn, I collapsed in complete
gratification.
Brad sneaked back into his room. He was still asleep
when Darryl and Rita awakened at ten a.m.
And yet, the greatest surprise of their visit came just
after breakfast. Rita and I had walked out to the
boathouse for a conversation before they packed to
leave. She smiled, "Thank you for what you did for Brad
last night."
I was shocked, unable to respond. Rita placed a gentle
hand on my arm and added, "No, I mean it. Brad has been
completely engrossed in clubs, basketball, and school
for six years. Darryl and I were worried that he might
be impotent. Or even gay.
"And we knew you and Bill lead this open-marriage type
life. We were hoping that this would happen. We'd
talked about it for weeks before our visit. Darryl and
I went up to Brad's room about midnight. We saw he
wasn't there. Then we heard Brad's moaning from your
bedroom."
She smiled softly. "I have to admit that Darryl was
leaning against the door for perhaps fifteen or twenty
minutes. We heard you say to Brad that Bill was at the
plant until morning." She sighed, wistfully,
remembering the moment like it was her own. "We were
absolutely thrilled. We became...well very excited from
the passion pouring out of your room. We went back to
our bedroom. I was floating on air. We fucked the night
away!"
Her eyes glinted with sexual excitement. She leaned
forward, kissing me fully on the lips, saying, "So, I
really mean it! Thank you!" As an afterthought, she
added, "And I'll be sure to let Brad visit you alone
during school break...if you WANT him. I won't tell him
that I know."
She knew I wanted her son. She KNEW I could still feel
his throbbing manhood deep inside me! I realized she
didn't know Bill had stayed to watch.
I laughed, uncontrollably, hugging Rita, feeling closer
than I'd ever felt to her before. "I'd absolutely love
it, Rita! Just as I love you!"
She has phoned to thank me on three occasions since.
The only time she didn't mention this incident as I've
described it was the one time her son was nearby.
Believing his parents don't know, Brad insists on
visiting us at the end of the next quarter because he
loves "water skiing in Florida." And, of course, he has
his parents' enthusiastic approval. Rita says that she
and Darryl often fantasize about Brad and me while
they're in the privacy of their bedroom. She says,
"God! I get so hot when I think about it!"
The exquisite sin of adultery, you know, has after-
shocks, affecting many lives other than just those of
the people who commit it. For Bill and me, and for
those who have touched our lives, the results have been
immeasurably gratifying.
CHAPTER 3: Dating
After a year of our lifestyle, I'm still not sure
whether "open marriage" is the right term. When Bill
first encouraged me to date others, I found the idea
appalling, but now I love this arrangement. Bill hasn't
shown any interest in involvement with another woman,
so this has been a one-sided affair. What Bill gets out
of these dates are the thrills of my telling about my
extramarital experiences. I agreed to whatever
adventures Bill might dream up as long as these were no
threat to our marriage.
So one night we drove in separate cars to a local live-
entertainment club. I was wearing a red satiny oriental
dress, baring my back to just below the waist and slit
to the thigh. I found a table in a dimly lit corner.
The place was decorated with nostalgia gimmicks no one
would want in their home but somehow looked just right
in the lounge. I gazed around the crowd and listened to
the three-piece band's soft music.
Minutes later, Bill walked in, sat at the bar and
ordered a wine cooler. He acknowledged me with a smile,
then turned away. He glanced back now and then as
several men eyed me, clearly with sexual intentions.
When I wear heels, some men under 6 feet avoid making
passes at me because of my 5'8" height. This was the
problem this night until a tall attractive man, his
hair black as my own, noticed Bill glancing toward me
from the bar. Attired in a dark blue blazer, white polo
shirt, and white tropical slacks, he turned as I smiled
quietly at Bill, not the stranger. But the man lifted
his drink, sauntered over to my table, and grinned,
"With anyone?"
I responded, "I am now, I suppose," smiling as I
appraised his blue eyes and lean physique. I aged him
at 28. He was wearing a white gold wedding ring like
mine, but I pretended not to notice, and so did he.
He squinted at me through the dimness and, with a look
of surprise, remarked, "I haven't seen anyone with gray
eyes in years!"
I smiled, "An inherited trait." I hear that a lot.
There aren't many of us. When gray-eyed people see each
other, they silently smile in acknowledgement, just as
I've been told a young person with prematurely gray
hair returns a smile to another.
He gave me his name, Phil, but his occupation gave me a
start. He was a new attorney with the law firm that set
up Bill's corporation and was now advising Bill's
office manager, Steve, who runs the business side of
Bill's engineering practice. We engaged in small talk,
complimenting the other until he finally asked me to
dance.
On the dance floor, he held me closely. Men from around
the room looked disappointed that they hadn't asked me
first. The touch of his cheek brushing mine, as Bill
watched, excited me. By the middle of the second song,
he was gently pressing his groin against mine. I was
fighting to control my gasps as I felt his firmness
growing beneath his slacks.
My face burned at his openly sexual gesture, but soon
in excitation, I was brushing my mound against his
hardness. I could feel my nipples tingling against the
satin of my dress.
He whispered, "Do you have plans tonight?"
"Don't you have to go home?" I queried, my voice
trembling as I remembered his wedding ring.
"My wife's a pharmaceutical sales rep," he said softly.
"She's in Chicago until Tuesday at her company's
headquarters gathering." He'd remembered my own ring
and had no reason to lie.
I allowed him to press me closer. His skin radiated a
heat like my own. The female singer's long, slow melody
of adulterous longing seemed dedicated to our
intertwined bodies. When it ended, I realized Bill and
I hadn't planned this very well.
I lied, "My husband's at a convention. I have no plans,
Phil."
We bantered about a bit as I tried to think of what to
do until finally he came right out with it, "Can we
spend the night at your place?" His swollen cock was
now massaging my clitoris.
I was breathing heavily, my eyes wild. My throat
throbbed fearfully, choked with increasing desire, as I
breathed, "I'd like to visit the ladies' room."
He nodded, saying, "I'll meet you back here in a couple
of minutes."
When he walked through the crowd to the cashier's desk
in another room, I strode quickly to Bill, explaining
the situation. As usual, Bill was wonderful. He
grinned, "Great. I'll drive over to the office and
sleep on the couch. If I come home about five a.m.,
will that be enough time?" I agreed, and Bill returned
to his drink as I waited at the door for Phil.
We drove in separate cars. The late evening streets
were still wet from a brief Florida thundershower. The
Mercedes' diesel engine throbbed like my chest.
Although I'd slept with other men, this would be my
first true "date." The multi-colored lights of neon
signs, street lamps, and a line of cars streaming west
to the suburbs cast long brilliant reflections on the
wet highway. I glanced back now and then at Phil's red
Fiero following closely.
Stopping at a traffic light a block from the lounge, I
stared at a Cadillac's bumper sticker ahead of me and
smiled. The bumper sticker read, "Lead Me Not Into
Lust, For I Shall Find It Myself."
We emerged from separate cars into our garage. He
murmured, "My god, I just noticed the name on the
mailbox! I know your husband, by name anyway!"
I laughed. "I told you my name at the lounge. You
didn't ask for my husband's. Don't be so up-tight,
Phil!" Actually, I was more tense than Phil, not from
his association with the law firm but from the desire
that had grown with each mile I drove home. Inside,
Phil removed his coat, poured a drink from our bar and
searched out a diet soda from the refrigerator for me.
He walked upstairs to meet me in the bedroom.
I'd turned on the stereo and flicked on a table lamp,
bathing the room in a dim red glow that seemed to
accentuate my inner heat. I turned, my hands on my hips
and legs spread wide on the carpet as I faced him. He
stared, his manhood bulging beneath his slacks, and
breathed, "God, you're incredible!"
My breasts heaved as he set the drinks on the
nightstand and took me in his arms. He unzipped my
dress, puddling it onto the floor, then unbuttoned his
shirt. I trembled, barely able to stand as he grinded
his hardness against my clitoris. I fell to my knees
and pulled away his slacks, his nine-inch instrument
bobbing against my lips as his fingers stroked my neck.
I moaned at his sensuous touch. I was mesmerized by the
dark, purple-veined cock that I was now stroking, my
hand squeezing it back and forth from its black mass of
pubic hair to the broad, bulging head. I ovaled my lips
over the rubbery head, sucking it slowly as he groaned,
"Oh god, Ellen, you're terrific, oh god, oh god..."
My tongue slid along his length as his hips writhed,
pushing it beyond the back of my throat. The smoothness
glided through me until I was delirious with passion. I
became one with his cock and the throaty music drifting
from the stereo. I flamed with desire, my eyes wildly
rolling up at him as I whimpered with each stroke into
the fullness of my quivering lips.
He leaned to cup my breasts, then kneeled behind me as
his strong hands kneaded the softness of my breasts.
I fell against his hands until my arms braced against
the floor. I shuddered as his warm cock brushed my
flaming vagina from the rear. I muttered, my voice
quaking, "I'm on fire, Phil. I'm yours!" My hips
gyrated, as his lengthy hardness entered my lubricated
channel.
My vaginal walls stretched with each thrilling inch to
accommodate him. And then he had sheathed the tool to
its hilt as my mouth opened widely, my eyes rolling
with the adulterous passion that gripped my searing
soul. His long shaft radiated, steaming in the hot
coals of my cunt.
Wailing as he fucked me wildly, I swirled my hips to
his rhythm. I turned my head to watch as his hips
bumped against my buttocks, further inflaming my
passion. Each entry throbbed against my clitoris until,
deep within, I could feel the thunderous waters of an
orgasmic flood rushing up to burst through me. I began
to cry, tears streaking down my cheeks. His blue eyes
glinted.
He was biting his lip in excitation when I felt his
cock swelling. He was about to come with me. He groaned
passionately. Our eyes locked. As his cock expanded
within me I spread my legs further as if I could
somehow allow my vagina to hold even more. I was biting
the softness of my lower lip as I cried, "It's super,
Phil! Super! I LOVE it!" I reached behind to touch his
chest as his cock fucked into my hot, wet depths, which
were now a vortex of mega-lust that gripped the broad
cock-head sliding through my love tunnel.
He increased his tempo. The building orgasm was still
distant but now rushing up like a mad prehistoric beast
screaming for air from primeval depths of a misty
cavern. The earth opened before me. I was falling
through a bottomless chasm of adulterous pleasure with
his every thrust, my mind enveloping an unknown
universe inhabited by only me and Phil.
I shuddered. The beast within was insane with pleasure.
My whoring had now spanned eons, all sense of time lost
as I cried out frightfully. I was praying for the
oncoming super-orgasm but fearing I could no longer
bear the passionate explosion.
And then, OH GOD! It rolled over us like a landslide!
My mind and body exploded with staggering force!
Gigantic stars crashed as I screamed in ecstasy,
feeling his warm sperm splattering through my channel.
The planet was quaking beneath me as I sobbed in
release from the bondage of this adulterous love.
Crying, I collapsed, beneath the white heat of his
body.
Later, in the afterglow, we drank wine, watching erotic
movies on our large-screen VCR from our bed until,
finally, he mounted me again, missionary position,
fucking me slowly. I screamed with a second, then
third, then fourth orgasm, until he came, shuddering
atop me. Dazed, I muttered, "I love you," and meaning
it at that moment of gratitude. When he replied,
"That's nice," because Phil couldn't lie, I laughed and
hit him softly with my fist.
He left at three a.m. I dialed Bill's office. When Bill
was in bed beside me a half hour later, I described
Phil's fucking me just as I'm telling you here, until
Bill's manhood had risen and was eagerly entering my
vagina. At times like these, I almost feel a control
over him. I moaned, muttering my feelings of
passionately fucking Phil as Bill thrust into me.
I could feel his tool expand to awesome proportions,
until finally, reliving my adultery, I came again. Bill
groaned, his sperm splattering warmly into my vagina.
We lay side by side facing each other as I answered his
questions about my feelings when fucking other men.
I admitted, "You lead me into these situations, but
once I'm united with another, I can think only of him
and me. Sometimes I forget I'm married." When his
eyebrows arched, I smiled, "But I still love you."
Exhausted, I fell asleep. When I awoke with the
sunrise, Bill was still looking down at me, grinning in
approval.
CHAPTER 4: The Heat at Land's Edge
On a Saturday late last March, while Bill was out of
town on business, I was in a black string-bikini,
laying on our cypress dock beneath the late afternoon
sun. The dock juts 50 feet out over the lake to our
boathouse. The sun's rays rippled through tiers of
clouds, reddening the lake.
I looked up as the 22 year old son of an engineering
consultant, a friend and client of Bill's, drove his
canvas-topped jeep onto the curving driveway alongside
our house.
He walked out back to the dock. He was delivering a
contract proposal from his father for Bill to look
over.
I ignored his darting eyes as he appraised my figure.
Having been a beach wear and fashion model before our
marriage just 8 years ago, I was accustomed to even our
pastor stealing glances at church picnics. I explained
that Bill wasn't home, had forgotten to tell me about
it, and asked him leave the papers until Monday when
Bill was to return.
I hadn't previously met John's son, who confidently
introduced himself as David.
He was driving back for the spring quarter to a college
a hundred miles away and was just dropping off the
papers on the way. David, with his full, perfectly
shaped lips, was as handsome as Bill, 16 years younger,
and a couple of inches shorter. His lean, muscular body
was particularly evident in his polo shirt and white
swim trunks as he stood on the dock between me and the
setting sun.
He nodded, acknowledging our water skis on a rack
inside the boathouse, then commented, "We have a ski
boat and boat ramp at the school's lake. I love water
skiing!" It was clearly a request for an invitation.
"Okay," I smiled, "I'm Ellen. How about a half hour's
water skiing? I'll operate the boat."
Grinning, he helped me secure the tow rope to the
stern. The skis tight on his feet, he was standing knee
deep in water as I powered up and threw him the tow
rope.
The "half hour" became an hour, and it was now dark.
While operating the boat, watching David's athletic
form in the rearview mirror, I was remembering another
younger man, Greg, whom Bill had encouraged to seduce
me the previous fall. Although I had no such thoughts
about David, those sexual memories were churning in my
stomach as I reached to pull David from the moonlit
water.
The touch of our hands was electric. His long stare at
my breasts unsettled me. His chest heaving noticeably,
he kept stealing glances at my legs and breasts as I
steered back across the lake. My knuckles were white on
the wheel as I fought my urge to return his stare. I
sniffed deeply, drawing in the pungent odor of the
motor's gasoline as if that would clear the thoughts
swirling through my mind.
As we putted into the boathouse's darkness, he grappled
with the tie lines, securing the boat to the dock.
Plopping into the rear seat, he exhaled.
Afraid to look at him, I waited. He didn't move.
I swallowed nervously, when he breathed, "Need to relax
a minute. Thanks, Ellen, I really enjoyed it." Then, he
added, haltingly, "You're truly beautiful." He was
trying to hide the tightness in his voice.
Trembling fearfully, I turned, staring down at his
long, curved hardness straining beneath his white swim
trunks. I blushed, feeling the warmth surging through
my body.
Our eyes locked.
My lips were quivering. I gulped, "You want something
else, David?" And I knew what he wanted. What we both
wanted. Each time I sense that a man wishes to make
love, I feel an unexplainable fear pounding in my
throat and deep within my stomach. I felt that now as
David reached for my hand and pulled me toward him,
kissing me deeply.
My face burned in the electrical current of sexuality
irradiating between us.
I whimpered, my hips rotating in involuntary excitation
as he untied my swim suit and lowered me to the boat's
carpeted floor.
I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the
boathouse.
David slipped off his white swim trunks. He hovered
above me, his instrument unbelievably long and slender!
I couldn't take my eyes off the engorged penis, curving
and pointing toward me like a threatening weapon! His
lips trembled down the path of my body to my shaved
mound.
I moaned, pressing my heels against the boat's
carpeting, my cuntal lips pulsating. My nipples were
standing out like spikes as David kissed the softness
of my breasts.
White hot with desire, I enwrapped my long legs about
his slender body, pulling him to me. His throbbing
manhood swayed closer to the vee of my long, spread
legs, until my smooth mound quivered up to meet it. I
murmured, my voice trembled, "You're beautiful also,
David."
David's eyes blazed with youthful lust. The moonlight
shone brilliantly against his purple-veined scepter.
His fiery poker slithered into my vagina, probing my
depths. My belly quivered as I pulled away, then
lurched upward again. My cuntal walls were steaming, my
fear now overcome by excitation. I whimpered, locking
my ankles around his back.
His soft, pale lips enveloped a hard, reddened nipple.
He matched his motions to mine as my hips came up to
launch his lengthy missile deep into me with a twisting
thrust. His hands stroked the shapeliness of my legs.
His glazed eyes rolled as he realized the monumental
ardor of the delicious sin. Fucking a MARRIED woman!
The WIFE of his father's friend! He murmured, in
exquisite passion, "It's so wonderful!"
My sighs were bursting each time he entered me. I
looked down at his cock, my mouth wide with wonder as I
watched his hips rise to display the glowing marvel
that disappeared with each thrust into my radiant
depths. I was delirious, smoldering with passion, my
hips rising to meet his every entry. My groin flamed as
his long tool slithered through my channel. I moaned,
"It's so big! You're killing me!" My breasts heaved in
rhythm with David's gasps.
I was tossing my head, my hair flailing the warm night
air. I screamed ecstatically, "Oh, David! Oh my GOD!
It's marvelous! Marvelous!" I was positively loving it.
My eyes and mouth opened widely as I relished the
stunning mega-thrills! I was moaning uncontrollably now
as I watched his curved hardness fucking into me.
I hadn't realized my lubricious tunnel was so deep as
to accept this length. Squeezing my vagina around it, I
was going mad with ungodly passion under his long
strokes! The higher I raised my legs as he pistoned in
and out, the deeper he bored. My hips rolled from side
to side of their own volition, making his cock rotate
and wriggle within my throbbing channel. An orgasmic
rhapsody crescendo through me like an impending
explosion.
David shuddered, his brilliant green eyes staring into
mine, knowing we were almost there, at the outer limits
of the cosmos! He thrust into me with a fury. My tight
flesh parted reluctantly, then closed tightly around
his manhood as he plowed into my trembling body.
And it came! Booming throughout the darkness. Our
orgasm ruptured the universe, flooding through me like
an awesome rapture in my soul. Heaven thundered, a
billion exploding stars lighting the boathouse.
Now, moaning and coming together, we were one, glowing
like a blast furnace! We wailed as the earth-moving
climax lifted our bodies from the planet. Our arms
intertwined, our lips pressed together, we rolled to
our sides.
My legs squeezed his hips as I pressed my mound against
him to relish the firm manhood throbbing in unison with
my fluttering heart.
Nude, we walked through the darkness of our tree-
enclosed yard to the house.
David stayed the night, fucking me with the male animal
stamina possessed only by a 22 year old. "I love you,"
he told me after we showered, standing next to our bed.
Intoxicated by his male odor, I kneeled before him. The
fullness of my lips enveloped his enormous cock. My
head bobbed along its length, my tongue sliding softly
over the bulging veins.
He pushed me gently, until I was facing away from him,
on my knees, then entered my cunt from the rear. My
hands flat on the carpet, his arms braced me as he
fucked me from behind. His naked hips slapped my
buttocks. His instrument pistoned into me as I
shuddered wildly with pleasure.
I was fucking back against him as I rolled my head,
groaning my gratitude! Long rippling waves of orgiastic
joy tingled through my depths. "Oh, GOD, David," I
moaned in an unguarded moment as I turned to touch his
wonderful instrument driving into me from behind, "I
love you also! I LOVE you! I LOVE you!" And I did. For
that long and lovely night.
When my husband returned, I told him everything.
He grinned, his eyes illumined as we relived the
adultery, the greatest my pleasures.
CHAPTER 5: The Game
ELLEN'S STORY:
Although Bill objects to the word, "addicted," that's
the best term I can think of to describe his attachment
to card games. At the peak of our experiment with open
marriage, bi-weekly Friday night poker had become a
ritual with him and his friends, held at our home. Like
young boys, they called themselves the Nautilus Pack
because of their membership in a health club.
"The game at Pier Point" was what the players called
it, referring to our home's wooden pier that stretches
out over the lake behind our house to the land's edge.
Each evening the pier looks like a walkway to the sun
that sets across the water.
When they held poker night, I would go out with a
divorced friend, Christine.
Last May, Christine confided that each of these pack
members had occasional flings, adding, "except, of
course, for your husband, Bill." She'd learned this
from our friend, Paul, with whom she had recently been
involved for some three months. I was stunned only by
her mention of Tom, a one-time seminary student who'd
been a friend of Bill's since their days as
Reconnaissance Marines. I couldn't have imagined Tom
playing around!
Over the next two weeks, I found myself awakening after
wild dreams about sex with faceless men who - I somehow
realized - played poker every other Friday. So I begged
off one night out with Chris and laid a plan. I would
be staying home during the poker game.
BILL'S STORY:
Because I'd encouraged Ellen over the past two years to
dress provocatively, I couldn't complain about her
outfit the night she offered to stay home and help
serve snacks at the poker game. She was wearing a loose
red blouse and red skirt that was slit along her sides
to the waist. Her black hair hung loosely over her
shoulders. She wore her highest heels, which made her
taller than two of the players.
Each man arriving was surprised to see Ellen. Sitting
across the gaming table from them, I grinned, noticing
them glancing at her from the corners of their eyes as
she walked to and from the kitchen. Ellen was serving
short drinks and small snacks to make sure she'd be
coming and going frequently.
When the demand slowed, she relaxed on the sofa in the
living room and inserted a CD into the stereo. We could
observe her through the high arched door separating the
rooms. She lay back, her legs crossed as she leafed
through a magazine. Because her skin was slightly
burned from sunning alongside the pool and lake the day
before, her long legs glowed red beneath the lamp
behind her.
She seemed detached and unconcerned, but I think even
at that time, I was catching onto her plan. She looked
toward us occasionally, noticing one - then another -
glancing away from his cards toward her.
Leo's luck was sagging. His head was down so far,
staring at a sad hand that all I could see was his
brown hair, like he had no face. He grumbled, "Tough
game! Want to watch ESPN instead?" he was hooted down,
called a "wussy." So he laughed, "You guys have no
sympathy at all! What if we just ask Ellen to dance for
us instead of playing this damn game?"
Tom grinned, "NOW you're talking!" He wasn't serious
when he turned to Ellen and asked, "How about it? Think
you could liven up Leo?"
Ellen surprised them, eagerly responding, "Sure! I'm
only here to serve your bidding!" She turned up the
stereo, dimmed the living room light, and walked to the
center of the room. The three players across the table
looked at each other with eyebrows raised. Paul
squinted his blue eyes and muttered, "She isn't
kidding. IS she?"
The last half of a heavy metal French song was
underway. Maybe because I'm ten years older than Ellen,
I don't like rock music; but Ellen likes it, so I don't
object.
Her legs flashed through the open slits in the skirt as
she twirled.
Ellen's an excellent dancer, and she was showing off
her athletic ability. Her hips thrust forward savagely,
her eyes taking in their mutual appreciation. Two of
them were wide-eyed and grinning broadly. Paul was
staring intently, his mouth opened like he was watching
a nude dancer at on of the topless clubs he frequents.
Maybe I should've known how well she could dance, but I
didn't, and her performance surprised me. Except during
her modeling eight or more years before, she'd never
danced alone before others. So I was a bit taken back,
realizing just how good she really was. She threw
everything erotic she knew into the dance. I grinned at
the guys' pleasure they were enjoying.
Then, as she swirled, thrusting her hips, Ellen
loosened three buttons from her blouse, exposing a
generous portion of her ample breasts. Until that
moment, I hadn't realized she had been sunbathing in
the nude; but no one could have failed to notice that
the sunburn covered her breasts.
When it was over, Leo shook his head in disbelief,
muttering, "Hot Damn!" And when Ellen walked to the
kitchen for more beer and chips, Leo added, "Best poker
party we ever had!"
A half hour later, we called a break. Paul walked away
while Tom, Leo, and I were talking about pro football,
which bores him. Paul strode into the kitchen where
Ellen was tidying up.
ELLEN'S STORY:
Paul is lean, his hair as red as my sunburned skin. At
six-three, he's the only player taller than Bill. He
walked past me to the sink. Watching him as he toweled
a splash of picante sauce on his aloha shirt, I said to
his back, "Hope you don't mind my staying around
tonight."
He turned off the water, pulled on his sixth beer, and
turned, grinning, "Glad you're here. Adds class to this
crowd." Paul had had one beer too many. His eyes were
on the portion of my breasts that were still displayed
beneath the half-unbuttoned blouse. I'd crossed a leg
over the other as I leaned against the counter and
sipped a tumbler of wine. One leg was bared.
He gazed over my body, then glanced toward the closed
door as if someone might walk in. He turned again to me
and inquired, "Want to join us on the next hand?"
I told him, "I'd be in the way. I stroked my sunburned
leg, turned to the cabinet behind me, and pulled out a
bottle of lotion. Spreading the cream over my
shoulders, I said, "This burn isn't as bad as it looks.
I'm a little warm, but comfortable."
The intimacy of the enclosed kitchen excited him.
Glancing at the lotion bottle, he gulped, "Can I help
with your back?"
"Sure," I smiled, offering him the bottle. As I turned,
he splashed the lotion on his hand, smoothing it over
my neck. His touch was electric. He stroked my
shoulders erotically. I sighed, "How about the backs of
my legs?"
I looked behind me. His manhood was surging beneath his
white slacks. The broad head of his member was bulging
flat against his stomach, pointing to his belt. His
face reddened as he saw me staring down at it. He
mumbled, "Uh, sure, no problem." He squirted cream into
his hand, then reached beneath the skirt, massaging it
over my calves in slow circles.
His hand touched the back of my thigh. I turned until
his broad fingers were brushing the smoothness of my
shaved mound. I shuddered as his fingers stroked my
clitoris. Had anyone walked in, his throbbing member
would have been obvious.
Glaring like I was warning him, I held out my leg to
rest in his hand. He reluctantly moved away from my
groin to my leg.
Knowing he shouldn't be doing this and pretending he
wasn't, Paul tried to appear unaffected. I glanced at
the clock. Five minutes had passed. He was holding
my foot, my leg straight toward him. I wriggled my
toes, brushing his bulging member, and reminded him,
"Don't you think it might be time for the game to start
over?"
He murmured, "Yeah," swallowing. He lowered his hand,
allowing my foot to linger against his hardness. His
brown eyes searched my face as he said, "Hope that
helped." He turned for the bathroom. I heard water
running for two minutes.
An hour later, I was walking down the hall from the
bedroom. I heard Tom push away from the table and say,
"I'm out. Sorry it was so early, but you guys keep
dealing me lousy hands."
I ducked into the bath. Tom's long shadow turned down
the hallway's corner. I walked out, bumping into him. I
asked if he'd like to see the rest of the house.
I walked to the kitchen, picked a bottle of wine and
two glasses, then escorted him through the rooms.
Upstairs, our arms brushed against the other's. I
didn't move away. Tom was slightly intoxicated by the
time we walked through the bedroom toward the hot tub.
He hadn't seen our waterbed before and was staring down
at it for a half minute. I took his hand and led him to
the hot tub room. The room was lit by a dim red bulb.
Tom muttered, "Looks like fun."
I agreed, "Sure. With an agreeable tub partner."
Tilting his glass, he peered over its rim, his gaze
roaming my body as he said, "Any time."
I was a little drunk as I nodded affirmatively and
acknowledged, "Well, ALMOST any time." Turning, I
brushed past him in the doorway.
His fist curled around my arm. Pulling me to him, he
kissed me deeply. I responded eagerly, my groin
rotating against his. His burgeoning tool awakened. He
fondled my breasts. Taking a firm nipple in his lips,
he slithered his hand through the slit in my dress. His
fingers were stroking my clitoris. I gasped at the
contact, shoving my hips against pressure of his hand.
I moaned.
Moments later, I whispered, "We'd better go back."
As we walked into the game room, Leo dejectedly flipped
his cards on the table and complained, "Okay, I'm out
too. My luck's not holding."
It was time! I blurted, "Don't quit, Leo! Why don't you
use ME as your prize chip?" When they asked what I
meant, I smiled, "If Leo's beaten, the winner can go to
bed with me." I said it like it was a joke, so that
Bill could disapprove. Then, I could have backed out
gracefully, without seeming to mean it.
I'm not sure it came across that way, though. The men
were in a hilarious uproar, with hoots and shouts of
"Whoa!" and "All RIGHT!"
I trembled a moment, wondering if I hadn't gone too
far. I watched Bill carefully; he pursed his lips
thoughtfully, then smiled, nodding his assent.
I'd sobered, adding, "I really mean it. The winner gets
ME!"
Tom was standing beside me, at first in disbelief. He
turned and strode to the table, saying, "Deal me back
in!"
BILL'S STORY:
Tom looked away from Ellen, then at me and smirked, "Is
this for real, Bill?"
I looked at each player and asked, "You guys really
WANT it to be for real?"
They looked at each other, nodding affirmatively, as
Tom spoke for all and grunted, "Yeah, we do." Turning
to them, he asked, "Right?"
Paul said, slowly, "Absolutely."
Leo added, "Right."
I grinned, "Then it's for real." I turned to Tom and
inquired, "Think you've known me long enough to trust
my word?
Tom knew. He was the only other man besides myself who
was still living from the goon patrol. He works for me
as a client liaison, and he'd worked for me when we
first met in the marines.
It was thirteen years ago this month when Tom was
pointing out that we'd seen more men die than either of
us could ever know as friends. It was our third day
back in the States. We were sitting in a dimly lit San
Francisco bar in neatly pressed uniforms talking about
Mojo, Franklin, and Reid who were the best memories
we'd have from the hell ground we'd kissed good-bye the
week before.
A dark haired, bearded young man was sitting two stools
away and talking to another hippie between him and us.
The man glanced around his friend's shoulder toward us
and said to his clone, "Fucking soldiers are running
down the neighborhood."
His clone turned to look at us, adjusted his purple
glasses, lit up a joint, and told him, "Lay off,
Louie."
Figuring his friend was offering him good advice, I
ignored them; but Tom turned to the clone, who seemed
the most reasonable, and asked, "You a conscientious
objector?"
He responded, as if with sadness, "Yes."
Tom nodded sympathetically, "I understand." Tom wasn't
lying; he'd left seminary school from where he'd hoped
one day to be a Catholic priest. He'd joined the
marines and spent the next four years worrying about
losing his soul. Tom turned to the other man and asked,
"And you?"
The surlier hippie clanked his beer against the counter
in a show of irritation. Wiping his heavy paws across a
bright yellow shirt emblazoned with a large blue star
on his chest, he smirked, "Student deferment." He spit
on the floor, ignoring the angry retort from the bar
tender. I looked straight ahead, across the bar, and
told Tom, "Tell him to fuck off and forget it."
A TV set above the bar glared. The TV commentator was
intoning about a greenhorn lieutenant and his squad
who'd gone hyper in Vietnam and wasted the better half
of a village we'd never heard of.
So Yellow Shirt glanced away from the set and growled,
"Were you two with those My Lai baby killers?"
I shouldn't have said anything, but I pulled on my beer
and explained heatedly, "He was Army! We're Marines!" I
felt an immediate twinge of guilt about implying the
army was incompetent; it had been the army's
helicopters and the army's green berets who pulled Tom,
me and three other reconnaissance marines from a hell
hole where we officially shouldn't have been but had
been sent anyway.
We'd been on the run for a dozen days and nights from
an unrelenting enemy who probably thought we were fifty
or more men instead of just five scared marines, three
of whom wouldn't live to celebrate their twenty-third
birthdays. We'd slept in short shifts with
thunderstorms arriving on the hour and pesky snakes
crawling through our mud-soaked sleeping bags.
I was suffering from a fractured wrist, influenza,
diarrhea, and a festering cut to the groin from
crawling through a quarter mile of jagged riverside
rocks. And, as if the jungle gods hadn't done enough, I
was stumbling along half-blind with a three-day
migraine. Yet because, I was to be checked into a
hospital for two weeks, I was to be the luckiest of the
five.
I was scared out of my wits from the first night's
rumble of mortar fire to the moment the flock of army
choppers and the berets cleared the jungle and whisked
us away.
I was remembering all that while this loudmouth was
asking if we were baby killers. I remembered it all.
As the helicopter turned south, a hulking green beret
grinned down at our six-foot-four superstar, Mojo, and
asked, "How'd you guys keep going?"
Mojo turned his determined black face to the beret and
said simply, "Semper Fi, baby."
A week later, a red-eyed sergeant who'd been leading
Mojo's new team strode down the double line of hospital
beds to mine. He had bad news. They'd just plucked the
two dozen pieces of Mojo's body from the stale waters
of a rotting rice paddy. His remains were in a black
body bag, folded inside an ice chest on the hospital's
west end. Nervously gesturing his thumb over his
shoulder, the sergeant added, "Near the noncom's dining
hall." And, by the way, how would I fucking like to
visit what was left of Mojo?
The next two hours, I was chewing pages from the Time
Magazine I'd been reading. I spat out paper balls I was
imagining were bullets aimed at everyone I could blame
for us been sent to that hell hole. Then I remembered.
It was me. And Mojo. Nobody had forced us to volunteer.
Mojo's last fond memory was having learned the green
beret talking to him in the helicopter had been a pro
football player for Mojo's hometown team. The beret's
reserve unit had pulled the unlucky number and was
called to Vietnam. The sergeant had told me Mojo had
been talking about the beret and his team that morning
Mojo was killed.
Two months later, I was assigned to a fresh recon team.
It didn't get any better.
So I pushed away from the bar but was too late. Tom had
already walked around the man who said he was c.o. and
gripped the throat of Yellow Shirt whose legs were now
dangling inches above the marbled floor. His arms were
flailing. Tom was yelling at him, " A student
DEFERMENT! You're a DRAFT dodger!"
I told myself this was why Tom shouldn't have been a
priest anyway. Turning to Tom, I said, "Forget it. This
piece of shit isn't fucking worth this."
Tom murmured, "Guess not." He released his grip. Yellow
Shirt thumped to the floor. The man sat there in his
bell bottom jeans, his peace symbol dangling from a
silver chain. Choking, he coughed out obscenities about
the brutality of mother-fucking, baby-killing bullies.
Grinning, I turned to Tom, swallowed the last of the
beer, and scratched my forehead. I asked him,
cynically, "So, you proud of yourself?"
Tom's face reddened as he said, "Guess not." Turning to
the conscientious objector, but not to the man on the
floor, he apologized, "Sorry. And I mean it." He
dropped ten dollars on the counter and told the
bartender, "Keep the change."
The bartender swooped it up, leaned over the counter,
and shoved the bills back into Tom's pocket, saying,
"Gy-renes, you got a free beer here anytime you want
it." The bar man told Yellow Shirt to get the fuck out
of his bar and not to come back.
So here we were across the country, light years later,
sitting across a card table. Playing for my wife as the
prize.
Assured that Ellen and I were serious, they played
furiously. Their attitudes had changed to a determined
lust. Now and then, Leo, Paul and Tom looked toward
Ellen who was sitting on the couch.
She looked fearful. She squirmed each time one of us
dragged the pool of chips across the table, like she
was trying to determine who would win. Once, her body
shuddered, her hips involuntarily thrusting in
excitation.
I didn't know who was the most eager, her or them. Or
me.
I lost purposely. No one noticed when I didn't show my
hand. To hurry the game along, the remaining players
drew for the highest card. Paul won.
They breathed heavily, leering at Ellen. Wide-eyed and
trembling, she walked to the staircase, looking back at
us in the dimness of the game room.
ELLEN'S STORY:
I had known from the beginning I'd have to involve all
these men; otherwise, anyone of them could have talked.
My voice quaking, I murmured, "I want you all. But
Paul's the winner. He's first."
My knees were shaking as I took Paul by the hand. I
turned once more to Bill like I hadn't made up my mind.
My stomach was churning. Bill's eyes glinted beneath
the chandelier. The long faces of Leo and Tom displayed
disappointment, but they smiled. Paul and I turned for
the stairs to our bedroom.
Paul's eyes are dark and brooding. Muscular and lean,
his arms look like telephone poles, the fingers of his
large hands like bananas. My body trembled as he closed
the door, taking me in his arms. His hands fondled my
soft breasts as I unzipped his gray slacks, stroking
his stiffening manhood. My breasts heaved as he
unbuttoned my blouse and untied my skirt. My clothes
puddled to the floor.
I'd known Paul and his wife for two years. Perhaps that
should have made me feel guilty, but somehow the
thought heightened my desire for the sin. I unbuttoned
his shirt, then pulled away his slacks. I knelt to
worship the long engorged member curving up before me.
My fingers were shaking like leaves in the wind. I
grasped his hips as my trembling lips enveloped his
velvety manhood. As my lips slid along his length, my
eyes rolled up to watch his face. He stared back,
chewing his lower lip, his hands clasping my bobbing
head. His hips thrust madly. His eyes glazed.
I shivered with fright as he grasped my arms, lifting
and pushing me back on the waterbed. My groin was
thrusting in excitation toward his twitching tool.
Hovering above me, he spread my legs. His tongue lathed
my breasts, then traced a sensuous path down my
stomach. My vagina quivered up to his mouth.
He guided his lengthy tool's broad head to my vagina. I
wailed, realizing the others could hear me downstairs.
I no longer cared. My shaved cunt closed tightly around
his throbbing staff. My eyes widened as I stared down
at the huge instrument sinking its full length. My hips
rotated, my cuntal walls contracting and pulling his
engorged length.
He thrust into me like a wild stallion fucking a young
mare. My vaginal walls smoldered. I mewed with each
entry. Closing my eyes, I locked my legs around his
back. His hips were slapping against my hungry loins.
I shuddered. My straining vagina accepted each entry of
his broad tool. My body lifted from the waterbed with
each withdrawal. Paul's rod tunneled deeper. My mouth
formed an "oh" as I moaned in thrilling ecstasy, my
eyes opening widely to watch the instrument driving
into me.
The door creaked open. Leo and Tom were standing nude
in the doorway, their forms outlined by the dim
lighting from the bathroom down the hall. Each walked
to a separate side of our bed. My husband was leaning
against the doorjamb, pumping his cock furiously.
BILL'S STORY:
When we opened the door, Paul turned to acknowledge us
but continued fucking my wife. Ellen looked at Leo. Leo
is about her height, heavyset but muscular, with the
thick neck, shoulders, and arms of a weight-lifter,
which is just what he is. Her hand reached out to
stroke Leo's semi-tumescent member. She grasped Tom's
soft cock, pulling it to her lips.
As Tom's cock swelled to its full, hard length, it
glistened beneath the dim stream of light filtering
through the door. Leo's broad chest hovered above her
as he suckled one of her nipples that were standing out
like spikes. Her moans of pleasure were muffled by
Tom's broad-beamed member fucking into her hungry
mouth.
I wondered whether Ellen thought about these men being
married to her closest friends. As for Leo, Tom, and
Paul, I knew that at this point they didn't give a
damn.
Paul was fucking my wife with a frenzy. She was pumping
Tom's thick cock and mouthing Leo's full length. Paul
shuddered, then groaned as he exploded.
Leo took his place. As Leo's body hammered between her
splayed legs, her hips grinding and thrusting with his
rhythm, the bedside telephone rang. I said, "Let the
recorder answer it," but Ellen put a finger to her lips
for us to quiet down and picked up the receiver.
Ellen's lips ovaled in awe at the size of the cock
ramming into her shaved pussy.
Leo hadn't missed a stroke. His broad member thrust
deeper. Ellen's hips jerked at the onslaught. Her voice
quaked softly as she answered into the telephone,
"Hel...Hello-o-o-oh!"
It was her friend, Christine, who was telling her what
a great movie she'd missed that night. Finally,
Christine asked, "Are you all right? You sound a little
strange." Whatever Ellen said in response, Christine
laughed, "Oh! You're being fucked by BILL! WOW! Can I
ever pick some great times to CALL! Look, I'll call
back tomorrow night!" When Ellen told us about the
conversation, we broke up in gales of laughter.
Leo, however, seemed oblivious to what had happened and
kept thrusting into her. The mood returned as he began
erupting his hot sperm. And then, Tom was pumping into
her. Her ankles locked around his back. He murmured,
"Oh, GOD!"
She told Tom, "I love you, Tom! I've always loved you!
Oh, fuck me, Tom! FUCK me!" I didn't know whether she
meant it or not, but for some overwhelming erotic
reason, my cock expanded to enormous proportions as she
was proclaiming her deep love for him.
She rolled until her legs were straddling him. Leaning
over Paul's supine body, she brought him again to
hardness. Her hand stroked Leo's cock.
ELLEN'S STORY:
The heated male flesh around me electrified my mind and
body! I could feel our cosmic orgasms rolling up from
the distance. A massive groan in unison surrounded me.
I was pumping Leo's cock furiously, relishing the feel
of his soft outer skin that slipped over the hardness
beneath. His purple veins bulged over the pale skin.
I curled my hand around Paul's member, pulling it to
Leo's. I rolled one slippery shaft in a circular motion
around the other as they closed their eyes to
experience the fleshy veins of another man's tool jerk
and throb in my hands.
I stared at the bulging shafts I was rubbing together.
The cock-heads surged in excitation, glistening a deep
crimson. Tom stared at the two cocks that were only
inches from his face. Tom rode me savagely. I pulled
Leo and Paul closer; the undersides of their shafts met
from root to head. Softly grasping the upper half of
each cock, I slid them together in lengthwise motions.
Raising my torso, I strained my lips to envelope the
heads of both penises, my tongue lathing the walnut-
sized cock heads as I pressed them together at the
roots. They groaned at the thrills rippling through
their rubbery tools.
Electrical currents shimmied through my body. The
feeling of two throbbing shafts in my hands and mouth,
and another fucking into my fluttering vagina, drove me
wild. Rolling my head, I screamed ecstatically.
Tom's tongue twined around mine. I pulled Leo's and
Paul's lengthy rods into my mouth, rolling my tongue
through the crevice between Tom's tongue and their
shafts. Tom's body tensed. His cock twisted and slammed
into my vagina with full force, plunging to the
furthest reaches of my steaming cuntal walls. My
clitoris pulsated in pre-orgasmic spasms with each
savage entry.
My head was thrashing from side to side, my vision
blurring from the sensual overdose of multiple fucking.
A fire storm was raging through me as I shivered
helplessly beneath them, like the maiden prize of an
ancient conquering army. My eyes rolled in excitation
as I felt the throb of an expectant eruption.
In the dim light, I could see a large pale vein
pulsating in Tom's temple as he drove relentlessly into
me. My hips gyrated madly in passion. My hair flailed
the warm night air. I shuddered wantonly, my groin
rotating wildly. The searing heat of his rubbery staff
flooded through me. My hands were still stroking Leo
and Paul. Tom's broad tool painfully stretched my
lubricated walls to the breaking point. My body
throbbed in an explosive shower of mind-numbing
pleasure as I thrashed beneath his hammering hips.
Murmuring my desire, I radiated with passion.
I was insane with desire! I rolled, until my long legs
were kneeling away from Tom, my backside to him. I
released my grip from the other two men. My elbows
braced my body against the headboard as Tom's hands
grasped my hips; he entered my quivering pussy from the
rear. I wailed when we were united. And strangely, it
was as if no one else were in the room; just Tom and I.
My passion smoldered.
His manhood throbbed within me. His swollen balls slap-
slap-slapped against my buttocks. Crazed with desire, I
cried as he thrust into me. My hips rotated like a
Ferris wheel gone mad. I fucked back against him like I
was riding an untamed bronco. I breathed lustily, "Oh-
h-h! Fuck me! FUCK me, Tom!" Hot ecstatic coals had
been poured into my vagina.
I turned my head to watch him, my eyes wide. He
hammered his long instrument like a massive machine. My
lips ovaled in wonder. I was a cosmic surfer, riding a
celestial wave. When our eyes locked, we each
recognized the mutual feeling - We loved fucking the
other. We loved this adultery. We loved.
I relished the exquisite feeling of his huge cock
slipping into me. As Tom's hips gyrated, twisting his
manhood deep within, my cuntal walls irradiated in a
passionate white heat. I was whimpering in delight.
I glanced to Bill who had groaned from the doorway. His
nostrils flared. His eyes gleamed like those of a
hungry coyote surveying his prey. Bill squinted, his
lips parted, as he gripped his cock. He murmured
savagely, "Oh, God-d-d-d!" The realization that my
husband was about to come while watching his friends
fuck his wife rocketed my desire into hyper-drive. Tom
was now ramming his shaft into my cunt like a
sledgehammer, his hard stomach flattening my buttocks
each time he slammed into me from behind.
The other men, pumping their tools furiously, were
slack-jawed. They stared in wonder at Tom's and my
passionate union of orgiastic flesh. Tom was still lost
in the lusty vortex, oblivious to the others.
Then it began. The thunder of cosmic orgasm was rolling
up from lust's distant mountains in lightning-laden
clouds. The breadth of Tom's manhood was now expanding
monstrously like the explosive upsurge of a volcano
about to burst. We shared an ecstatic sigh. I was
sobbing like I was about to die.
As I realized Tom was about to come, I moaned, "Oh,
GOD, YESSSS!" I writhed in ecstasy as his thrilling
tempo increased and cried, "Oh DO it to me, Tom! I'm so
fucking hot, I don't know what to DO! Fuck me, Tom!
FUCK MEEEE!"
I sobbed, staring straight ahead at the headboard as he
rammed into me from behind. Warm tears of joy streaked
across my face like tropical rain on the windshield of
a speeding jetliner. The salty liquid spread through my
mouth as I moaned, "Oh God, Tom! I'm going to COME! I'm
going to COME WITH YOU! Oh God! It's so fucking
AWESOME!"
And now, it was happening! Oh God help me! The tidal
wave was upon us. I shuddered, my body on fire with the
cosmic power of our orgasmic flood! We wailed in
unison. The lightning thunder clapped. A million stars
burst throughout the room.
Tom's hot semen burst through my waiting channel. I
screamed as his lengthy member erupted molten lava
through my steaming cuntal walls. My arms enwrapped the
shuddering torsos of the men kneeling on each side. I
was sobbing with passion, my tears flowing in torrents.
I throbbed in a sensation of dying in rapture. My mind
was separated from my body as if my eyes were looking
down from the ceiling upon Tom's body fucking his
climactic crescendo into my cunt from the rear. The
vision of overwhelming passion was playing out before
me like I was a spirit watching from a cloud.
I knew I was dying but no longer cared. I reached for
Tom's shaft as it was about to explode, my mouth
pulling its surging cream from deep within his balls.
He collapsed on the bed, his body jerking as he groaned
mightily.
At the final moment, as I screamed in abandon, Leo
rammed his broad, steaming cock into my wide open
mouth. My lips clamped upon it as my trusting tongue
gripped the underside of his cock. I was swallowing his
warm sperm as it spurted through the walls of my mouth.
My mind was spinning in rapturous torrents, capturing
the lusty thoughts of every man in the room.
The final orgasm rippled electrically through my cunt
in a massive explosion. I imagined a skyscraper
collapsing into rubble. My body was shuddering like
leaves in a hurricane.
After we'd fluttered to earth, we showered. I was
lathered and rinsed by the four men until my skin
squeaked. We returned to the bedroom. I collapsed face
down on the waterbed. The others lay across my body. We
drifted asleep but were awakened an hour later by the
alarm Bill had set on the headboard. Leo took the final
ten minutes before they had to leave; I guess he wanted
to prove he was the ultimate stud.
Leo rolled me above him until I was straddling his
hips, then fucked me twice more. It wasn't that erotic;
the other men were laughing and muttering, "Come off
it, Leo!" and "You think you're a teenager again?" I
gladly took all he could give. It had been the greatest
night of my life.
Bill and I still relive that night in the privacy of
our bedroom, but for reasons too numerous to tell here,
its history wasn't repeated. The rapport and friendship
established with these men in a non-sexual way was
amazing to me. Occasionally in a social situation, a
coded remark is dropped by one of them with a wink.
Their wives and other friends are unaware of the
meanings of these remarks. And not one of them would
dare offend Bill by suggesting to me that we get
together on the side.
CHAPTER 6: Brother
ELLEN'S STORY:
I hadn't realized why I was frequently attracted to
younger men until my brother Roger visited us for three
days last November.
Although I don't dwell upon the past, I cannot help
remembering now and then the tragedy of our youth.
Roger was just a year younger than me when we learned
our parents were killed in an air accident; the
incident was particularly newsworthy because of the
spectacularly horrible way in which the airliner had
plowed through a Southern California neighborhood.
Television and newspaper coverage kept the awful
circumstances before our eyes for days thereafter.
We were alone in our home for three days, awaiting our
aunt and uncle from Central Ohio to come for us. I was
to live with them only a year before leaving to accept
a job in another city; Roger stayed with them through
four years of college and R.O.T.C., after which he
joined the Army. He's now a paratrooper.
While we awaited my aunt and uncle who were driving
cross country because they were afraid of flying, my
brother and I were each emotionally vulnerable. Adult
family friends visited daily, bringing us food and
trying to keep our minds occupied with thoughts of the
future, not the past or present.
The night before my aunt and uncle arrived, after Roger
had showered, I heard him sobbing. He was still in the
bathroom. I was nude, two rooms away in my closet,
looking through a line of clothes for my pajamas. I
gave up on the pj's, tugged my terry robe from a
hanger, and tied it about me as I walked to the bath.
The door was ajar. I pushed it open to find Roger,
leaning over a sink as he splashed water in his face to
clear his tears. Having just toweled off, his black
hair was mussed and glistening.
A dark blue towel was wrapped around his lower torso.
His eyes were reddened as he looked up at my mirrored
reflection and murmured, "I don't think I can take it
anymore."
Although he's now three inches taller, at that time
Roger and I were the same height. I hugged him to me.
Our bodies pressed together as I rocked his head on my
shoulder.
He seemed dazed by the emotional storm. He shuddered as
he whimpered, "I don't want to stay in my room alone!
Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"
I led him by the hand to my room. Preoccupied with
despair, he hadn't seemed to notice that his towel had
fallen away as we entered my bedroom door. I averted my
eyes from his smooth, nude body and invitingly patted
the pillow alongside me on my small bed. I turned off
the lamp, then billowed the thin white sheet over us as
he crawled in beside me. He held me agonizingly like he
was afraid he'd fall into some abyss as he lay quietly
in the darkness. Like me, Roger was slender and long-
limbed, his body as firm as mine from swimming and
playing softball; we made a good fit, I'd thought as
our arms twined around the other's neck.
I smiled when he was finally slumbering, his cheek
laying over mine. Just minutes later, I fell asleep.
Sometime in the early morning hours, I awoke. My robe
was open from the shoulders, exposing my warm
nakedness. Roger, as always, snored lightly. My body
was pressed to his nudity from our stomachs down to our
legs. His body felt feverish. His hands were curled
beneath his chin, his elbow resting between my breasts.
Although I couldn't see his young penis which had
swelled as he slept, I could feel its broad and lengthy
firmness bulging between the vee of my legs. The
pressure against my vagina had awakened me. Although I
knew I shouldn't be feeling this way, I was electrified
with the sexuality of my brother's naked flesh against
mine.
I started to push him away until I remembered his
crying. Not wishing to awaken him, I lay that way for
hours. Unmentionable images were running through my
mind. His manhood burgeoned as his body twitched in
sleep-induced dreams, causing me to shudder as it now
and then slid ever so slightly through my legs and the
furrows of my virgin womanhood. It was torture and it
was pleasure. I didn't want to remain in that agonizing
position, yet didn't want to move.
His head twisted to rest on my right breast, his lips
brushing the nipple. He slept on. His mouth opened
slightly, nursing a breast as if his dreams had
returned him to infancy.
His tongue and lips worked over by breast with soft
slurping sounds. His hips moved about, causing his
penis to wriggle against my vagina. My hand, trapped
beneath his head, cupped the back of his neck. I was
fighting an urge to pull him even closer.
I was going out of my mind with desire; but the
knowledge that to do so was wrong prevented me from
responding. Eventually, the will power I'd mustered to
pretend I was unaffected left me exhausted. I fell
again into a deep slumber. For the rest of the night, I
dreamed of a faceless man lying alongside me in the
darkness as the two of us fondled the other.
In the morning, we awoke to the jangling of the alarm
clock perched on the headboard above me. I folded my
arm behind me, afraid to touch him. Roger's face was
pressing warmly into my tender breast. His lips
enveloped the firmness of my excited nipple. His eyes
fluttered open, rolling up to meet mine. Only slightly
awakened, he glanced to the inviting breast before him
and rolled back to the pillow. I couldn't have admitted
that I didn't want him to stop nursing my pulsating
nipple.
The erotic dreams had left me in a state of hyper-
excitement. Except for my reaching to shut off the
alarm, I hadn't moved. The room was dim, still an hour
away from sunrise. Roger's manhood was even more
aroused, its bulging base now throbbing against my
clitoris. He looked shocked for a fleeting moment, then
pretended nothing was wrong.
We stared at the other, both in a state of half-sleep.
I could no longer control my frenzied body; my small
hips hunched slowly back and forth, massaging my
clitoris over the lengthy curvature of his hardness.
Our eyes closed. His elbow slid away from the young
fullness of my breasts, his hands gently cupping and
stroking the mounds. My nipples jutted out in
excitation, bouncing beneath his touch.
I slowly became aware of my arm I'd folded behind me;
my dangling hand was touching his hard penis that
extended just beyond the back of my legs. My fingers
were drawn to it, stroking the tip. The manipulations
caused it to pulse and jitter, further arousing my
stimulated body.
Raising my leg slightly, I bent my knee forward to rest
on Roger's hip. My slender hand encompassed his
monstrous member through the back of my legs. I gently
pulled his young manhood's outer skin.
Although I'd had no such experience before, I knew just
what to do. Just a month before, I'd crawled to the
backyard shed's roof to watch the stars. As I was
laying flat on my back, my hands folded beneath my
neck, I glanced toward a barely perceptible movement
coming from Roger's lighted window. Roger was standing
alongside his bed, his hand pumping against his groin.
I'd sat up, bracing my elbow against the slant of the
roof, and peered down to his window.
And I knew immediately! He was MASTURBATING! Although
the fascinating vision held no sensuality for me at the
time, I was enthralled! I remember grinning as I
watched; it was just all so INTERESTING!
And now, yes, in my sleepy turmoil, I knew just what to
do. With my hand around my leg to my back, I was
masturbating him! I remember my fearful surprise as I
learned the skin seemed so thin against the pulsating
muscle beneath. My fist was trembling like a leaf on
our backyard maple tree fluttering in the wind.
I shivered in the intoxication of the moment, feeling
his manhood coated with my own heated vaginal oils. It
was all so new to me! Our first sexual excitement was
mounting in a tempestuous storm! His eyes opened a
moment, then closed again. He moved in and out of my
legs, and all the time stroking my heaving breasts. We
gasped. His manhood wrested through my fingers. As I
moved my palpitating hips to and fro, I pressed my
clitoris madly firmly to his throbbing hardness.
He arched his back, his lips pulling on my nipple, and
moaned. My breath hissed out like steam from a
radiator. His body tensed, his arms tightening about
me. He shuddered and groaned as my sensitive furrows
sensed his orgasmic fluid rocketing through his
manhood. The soft, warm liquid splashed through my
hand, onto the back of my legs. I squealed, grasping
his penis firmly. Our bodies shimmied as his teeth bit
into my nipple, the pain causing tears to pool in my
eyes.
Our eyes snapped open in unison, fully awakened,
realizing what we were doing; then, his face reddened.
Each of us trembled, slowly pulling the sheet back. The
robe was still open to my sides, my naked flesh pressed
to his feverish and shuddering nudity. Roger puddled
the sheet to the floor behind him.
He pulled away from me slowly. His manhood seemed
interminably long and as it glided moistly through my
legs. An electric shock rippled through me. I didn't
close my robe as he rose to a sitting position, then
stood, turning to stare down at my breasts and the
curling mass of soft hair covering my pulsing groin. I
rubbed the wetness on my hand against the pillow. My
full lips parted in disbelief at what we'd done; yet,
in my frenzied state, I kept pushing it to the back of
my mind.
I was fascinated by his jutting length and the
thickness of his black pubic hair. The purplish red tip
glistened in the pale morning light; the bulging veins
that ran the length of his excited rod throbbed,
enhancing the erotic thunderstorm that was rumbling
through me. My lips trembled. My face glowed red. I was
unable to tear my eyes away from his member, bobbing
and pointing toward ME! I'd wanted to reach out and
pull on it again; but now, fully awake, I restrained my
urge. His gaze roamed my quaking body.
Although I couldn't have admitted it, my hips were
rolling and thrusting like I was inviting him back to
the bed! My face burned in a shameless blush.
He controlled himself, now feigning disinterest, as if
it hadn't occurred. Lifting his towel from the floor at
the doorway, he mumbled, "Want corn flakes for
breakfast?"
Licking the fullness of my pale dry lips, I glanced to
his pole pushing the towel out from his groin. I rolled
on my back, feeling the puddle of his warm creamy
liquid spreading beneath me. Closing and tying the
robe, I went along with the charade, rose from the bed,
and said, "Sure, I'll fix it." The image of his
hardness, thrusting from the thick pubic hair, flitted
through my mind the entire morning.
And the incident was never mentioned between us again.
Until a month ago, when Roger visited us.
BILL'S STORY:
I'd always liked Ellen's brother. He seemed to be the
perfect soldier, like he was married to the Army. As
handsome as Ellen is beautiful, Roger looks like he
stepped from a recruiting poster - short black hair,
athletic, poised, with a countenance of calm
thoughtfulness.
Although I could understand his love for the military,
I hadn't cared as much for the Marines, even after
giving the corps nine years of my life before leaving
for civilian life to practice engineering. Now, I think
better of it in retrospect because I tend to remember
only the good parts.
Roger, though, seems to live for nothing except the
next jump from an airplane, the ten-mile runs, and all
the unquestioned regimen that had once irritated the
hell out of me. Like Ellen, he never swears, doesn't
smoke, and drinks nothing alcoholic but a couple of
glasses a wine a month, maybe even less. He laughs
easily, never complains, and never runs out of jokes.
Yeah. Clean jokes.
Ellen of course had told me about the incident with her
brother, which fascinated me. During his second night
of his three-day visit with us, we were swimming in our
backyard pool while Roger was out jogging.
The moon's narrow sliver of gold hung in the black sky.
The distant dining room's small window of light spilled
across the trimmed lawn and onto the dark waters of the
swimming pool, providing the only other illumination.
Ellen swam to the pool ladder, grasped a rung, and
said, "I think I know now why I'm often attracted to
men a few years younger than me." It was out of the
blue; we hadn't even been talking about Roger.
I started to ask why but somehow knew exactly what she
was thinking. I acknowledged, "Because of your
brother." I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "Right?"
She nodded affirmatively and giggled, "Too weird for
words, isn't it?" She clambered up the ladder, stripped
off her swimsuit and lifted her beach robe from the
pool deck.
I paddled back a couple of feet from the pool's rim,
looked up at her as she was toweling off, and
suggested, "Why don't you tell him?"
She looked shocked, responding, "Oh, I couldn't!"
I crawled from the pool and reached for the towel.
Draping my suit alongside hers on the lawn chair to dry
in the night air, I picked up the other robe, pushing
my arms through its sleeves as I walked behind her
through the darkened hedges and into the house. I
cinched my robe and said, "Who knows? He could've been
disturbed over the memory. Talking it out could solve
some problems."
Looking back, I don't really think I believed what I
was saying, that the memory bothered her brother. He
was one of the most well adjusted men I'd known. But I
added, "I'm sure he hasn't forgotten it." Perhaps if
I'd thought more about my deeper motives, I wouldn't
have pursued the conversation, but eventually Ellen
agreed that just bringing the subject up would be
harmless.
We were sitting in nothing but our robes at the kitchen
bar, drinking tea while awaiting Roger to return from
his nightly jog. Ellen thought over my suggestion, then
turned from the bar stool, smiled with an agreeable
nod, and walked toward the hallway.
I asked, "Where are you going?"
She returned a half minute later and said, "Just
removed the towels from the bathroom."
I was puzzled.
Just moments later, Roger knocked, opened the front
door, and strode into the foyer. He was dressed in
yellow running shorts and jogging shoes. A silver
military chain dangled about his neck. He grinned,
sweat running from his black hair down his face. He
waved at us, and mumbled, "Going to the shower! Join
you in a minute."
When he closed the door, I turned to Ellen and grinned
in realization at what she'd done, "Okay. So he's going
to have to ask for a towel, and you're going to take it
to him."
She bit her lip, smiled, and acknowledged, "Uh-huh." My
nostrils flared slightly at the fresh smell of a
cologne she'd splashed on while she'd been in the
hallway.
Just two minutes later, Roger was calling from the half
opened door. Ellen pulled a couple of rose tinted
towels from the closet and walked in, holding out a
towel, draping the other over her arm.
I glanced down the hall to the bath mirror's reflection
through the open door. He didn't cover himself as he
dried off; Ellen was leaning against the sink and
chatting with him as he ran an electric razor over his
late-evening stubble. He wrapped the towel around his
hips.
They joined me at the kitchen bar. As they talked, they
seemed detached and unconcerned with the out-of-place
occurrence. She'd been casually talking to him while he
was nude! I was amazed.
I reached to the liquor cabinet and retrieved a
spectacular potion I'd intermixed for special
occasions, a third-quart of grain alcohol with white
wine, the taste disguised by a couple of drops of tobo
oil as I'd learned while stationed in Turkey.
I pulled 3 wine glasses from our cupboard and poured;
and although they kept insisting they'd drunk enough, I
kept pouring their glasses full. And when we were later
sitting in the floor and talking, my back to a wall and
their backs against the couch, I rested my elbow on the
coffee table and filled their glasses again. Although
Ellen drinks very little, she knew that wine mixed with
pure alcohol has a lightening-like, numbing effect; I
found it interesting that she wasn't offering any
comments other than just calling it "wine."
They'd lost count of the drinks. Roger stared blankly
at the glass I'd just refilled and laughed, "No more!
I'm drunk."
I knew he wasn't kidding; I'd been sipping only a
single glass of the potent potion and was more adept
than either of them at holding liquor; yet I could feel
electrical currents racing through me. The tobo oil
would make it worse; it's like eating butter before
drinking; you don't really know you're drunk when your
stomach's coated with butter; then as the oil's
absorbed, the full effect hits at once.
"Me too," Ellen giggled; but she took one more swallow,
set the glass on the table, and waved toward the bottle
negatively. She added, "That's IT for ME! My head will
be the size of a basketball by morning." They thought
about the image of a basketball balancing on Ellen's
shoulders an instant, then burst out laughing in
unison, each stone drunk for the first time in their
lives.
I walked to the far side of the kitchen bar where I was
just able to see their reflections in the mirrored
wall. Folding my arms, I leaned my back against the
refrigerator, watched, and listened.
Ellen sighed, patting his hand across her bare legs
that were jutting from her hip-length terry robe. She
reminisced, "Earlier tonight, I was remembering
something similar to this that once happened between
us."
Her brother's eyes were glazed. He was having trouble
comprehending their simple conversation and mumbled,
"What's that?"
She told him. He hesitated before answering, then
nodded, saying, "I think about that night every once in
a while."
Although Ellen hadn't noticed, her white beach robe had
fallen open as she leaned forward, exposing generous
proportions of her breasts and her slim stomach. Roger
stole occasional glances at her semi-bared breasts as
she breathed softly. From where Roger was sitting, he
glimpsed the brownish circle of a nipple.
She flattened the palm of his hand against her thigh;
the tips of her fingers brushed his muscular arm. She
asked, "What do you think about?"
He described the incident just as Ellen had told me,
stopping now and then in his recollection as if he kept
forgetting his train of thought. And eventually he'd
recalled it in great detail. The effect of the alcohol
and the sensuality of the remembrance were having a
noticeable effect on him.
Her senses dazed, Ellen hadn't noticed his engorged
member pushing the soft towel around his hips toward
the ceiling. She smiled softly, "That incident never
caused me any misgivings. I just wanted to know if it
had a lasting effect on you."
He looked sheepish, his forehead wrinkled slightly as
the corners of his eyes sought hers. "I think of it in
a fond way." Cautiously, he reached for another sip of
wine and went on, "I probably shouldn't say this." He
gulped the wine. "For years thereafter, I'd wanted it
to happen again."
They were still chatting when I strolled back in the
room but stopped talking as they looked up at my
intrusion. Turning to Roger, Ellen said, "Oh, don't
worry. Bill knows all about it. He gets excited every
time I tell him the details." She could never have
admitted that if she had been as cold sober as I was.
They laughed when I nodded and said, grinning, "Most
exciting thing I'd ever heard."
I rolled my tongue thoughtfully against the inside of
my cheek and said, "I didn't really think of it as
incest. I mean you didn't have intercourse."
They mumbled a few thoughts about my questionable
concept, then half heartedly agreed.
I added, "It's possible to have sensual experiences
which aren't incestuous." After they'd asked me to
explain, I went on, "Well, for example. Suppose you
were laying on your back." I gestured for Roger to lay
back on the floor. He complied.
Ellen's eyes were glazed as she stared down at his
engorged penis, now raising the towel like a flag pole.
Her lips parted in surprise, forming an oval, as she
inhaled a wispy breath. She looked away with a slight
jerk of her head like she was trying to clear her head
of the alcohol-induced trance, then again turned to
look at him.
I suggested that Ellen sit over his groin. Although
intoxicated, she was reluctant; but as Roger also urged
her on, she straddled him, her naked legs over the
towel covering his hips. Somehow this created an
immediate bond that even I could feel to form between
them, as if I weren't even there. Ellen's eyes widened
as she stared transfixed at her brother.
His facial muscles twitched as he glanced down to where
Ellen's robe parted slightly, exposing a portion of her
shaved mound. This must have seemed a bit unreal to
them, but anyone who's drunk will accept almost
anything as normal. I waited as they looked at the
other, breathing heavily.
Ellen gulped, unable to look away from the rising
protrusion of the towel covering his groin. She asked
me, her voice trembling, "What now?" Roger's lips
quivered.
I reached to untie Ellen's robe, pulling it open. She
looked at me questioningly, gasping as she started to
re-tie the belt. Then, she hesitated, turning her gaze
downward to Roger's innocent face. He nodded his
assent; she returned the affirmative gesture, allowing
the loose folds of her robe to remain open to her
brother's full view.
In his alcoholic stupor, her brother raised himself
slightly on his elbows, blinking as he gazed to the
fullness of her breasts and to her groin's smoothly
shaved mound. Ellen's jaw sagged slightly, her stare
affixed in awesome wonder on her brother's protruding
towel. Roger again lay his back flat on the floor.
My tongue was thickened and dry. I could feel the
erotic heat irradiating between them. The warmth of her
body had allowed a faint wisp of cologne to drift
through the room.
I tugged at his towel that was separating them. Ellen
accommodated me by wriggling slightly, allowing me to
pull it away. Her bare thighs hovered an inch above his
groin a moment as if she were still undecided. When he
offered no response, she settled slowly down on him
again.
Each gasped in unison as their naked flesh slid
together. She leaned forward and spread her fingers,
bracing her hands against his chest. Her gaping robe
hung just over her shoulders, down her sides, the way
the white terry robe of her youth had exposed her
nudity to her brother's eyes so many years before.
Her body jerked slightly at the close intimate contact
of his long penis with the rim of her cuntal lips.
Roger's length was impressive; his broad member
twitched in excitation as the purplish tip brushed the
curvature of her soft breast. Her hips moved just
slightly, pushing her groin gently against his penis in
an involuntary motion. But I'd noticed it, and so had
Roger. He'd shuddered as her warm womanhood brushed
against his pole. It was clear she was fighting an urge
to move about.
I leaned back against the wall and waited. Deciding I
may have already pushed this too far, I offered no
further suggestions. But I didn't need to; the room's
air was charged with the sexual electricity between
them.
And now, Ellen no longer asked me for instructions. Her
thighs squeezed his hips, relaxed, and squeezed again.
Rogers legs cautiously stroked her inner thighs, his
hips rolling slightly, causing his lengthy cock to
brush a wide swathe across her stomach.
Ellen's body was stilled but intense; but when he
moaned, as if giving eager permission, she began moving
her pussy lips back and forth, her sweet smelling
lubricant coating his cock as it was pushed flat
against his stomach with each movement of her hips. His
blood-engorged member fit her smooth furrow like a ball
in a socket as if they were made for each other. Of
course; yes, I thought, they were! Each made for the
other! I gulped my second glass of wine.
It was obvious her clitoris was now hyper-excited as
her bald flesh slid over the broad pole, creating the
necessary friction. The wine had taken its full toll,
releasing all inhibitions. Her lips formed a circle,
her body shivering. Immersed in lust, she moaned,
"Annnhhhhh! Ooooohhhh!" Her groin pressed more firmly
against his long cock and hairy stomach.
He groaned, "Oh, God, it feels...it feels GOOD! Ellen!
Even better than I'd IMAGINED!"
I arose quietly and walked out of the room, lingering
in the darkness of the hallway to watch the rest - of
what I'd begun - to unfold. They were writhing together
in slow, measured movements.
Ellen increased the tempo of her hips and whimpered,
"UNGHHH! OOOHHH! Oh, YES, Roger! It feels GOOD! I don't
want it to stop. It's making me so fucking horny, I
don't know what to DO!"
Roger was now lifting his hips, matching each thrust as
her aching cunt trapped his cock against his belly. Her
pussy lips and clitoris slid down his cock's length
each time he lifted his hips. She thrust her hips,
moving her hot wet flesh back up its massive length.
"Oh, GOD!" Roger groaned. "I know I shouldn't be
enjoying this! But I just can't HELP it!"
I smiled, knowing there was no turning back for either
of them.
Ellen whimpered, "Don't stop, brother." Tears pooled in
her eyes, streaking her cheeks. She whispered lustily,
"I love it too! Your COCK! It's so BIG! So HOT! I love
it more than ANYTHING, Roger! I'll do anything you WANT
if you'll just keep doing what you're doing!"
In the hallway's darkness, I opened my robe. I began
pumping my cock with a fury. With each forward thrust
of Ellen's hips, Roger heaved his loins upward. Her
excited groin wriggled as his cock slithered up the
furrow of her eager, heated cunt. With each ebbing flow
beneath her clitoris, she squealed in agonizing
pleasure.
Ellen thought I'd left for the bedroom. She whispered
to Roger, "Oh GOD! I can't believe what I'm FEELING! I
can't believe what I want to ask you! I want you to
fuck me, Roger! WOULD you? Would you FUCK your sister?
WILL you?"
Inflamed with lust, Roger grasped her hips. He nodded
in enthusiastic agreement. He breathed, "I'd love to.
I'd LOVE to fuck you!"
She rolled away to lay on her back, her legs splayed.
Her hips were grinding an euphoric invitation to fuck
her. Her eyes were wide, her lips ovaled. She shivered
fearfully like a trapped rabbit facing a predator as
her brother's nude body hovered expectantly above her.
His cock twitched, jutting out in a threatening
gesture. His face took on a determined demeanor like
that of a bombardier about to taste the fruits of a
perfect mission. The massive poker poised to dive into
the red hot coals of her depths that were now blazing
like a furnace.
He shuddered wantonly as Ellen's quivering fingers
combed through his thick black patch of pubic hair. He
murmured, "My balls are hard as rocks! I couldn't stop
now if I wanted to. And I don't WANT to!" His comment
was also a question, allowing her time to refuse, to
push him away; yet I knew that neither of them could
stop now.
Ellen's reactions exceeded my expectations. Gazing at
the long penis menacing her furry mound, she pleaded,
"Oh, YES, brother! I WANT you to fuck me! I can't WAIT!
I want you to fuck me so bad it hurts!"
She quivered her cunt up. Grasping his throbbing tool
with her small fist, she pulled it toward her vaginal
lips. Ellen's raging passion caused her body to blush a
flaming red. Now, his prick had grown to a particularly
lusty state, reaching inches beyond the breadth of his
sister's fist. She stroked his long hardness, then
pulled it to the mouth of her trembling pussy. Upon
contact with its tip, she squealed, "OOOOOHHHH! GOD!"
Her long slender legs involuntarily wrapped around his
hips; and then, as if her legs had a mind of their own,
her legs tugged his loins toward her. His cock entered
her tight muscle-rimmed opening as she writhed beneath
him in unconcealed desire.
My heart was thumping like a sledgehammer. A hot breath
escaped my lips. Ellen lifted her hips eagerly to his
massive member. They shared a sigh. Their mutual
pledges of sibling love sounded like a ceremony as
their bodies were about to be united. Her cuntal folds
enveloped the head of his prick, then slid around his
tool as he entered her.
He flinched and moaned as he forced inward. Her vaginal
muscles fearfully contracted, then relaxed, allowing
his cock to spread the mouth of her cunt still wider.
She arched her back, grinding her hips against the
softness of the carpet as her brother's tool slid
snugly into place.
Sobbing ecstatically, Ellen screamed, "Oh, Roger!
You're KILLING me! I LOVE it! I love YOU! You're so
fucking BIG! I can't STAND it! Do it! FUCK... FUCK
MEEEEE!"
There was nothing contradictory about her fevered
pleas. Her brother was clearly huge, yet Ellen wouldn't
have wanted him to stop. Her pain was replaced by
unbelievable pleasure! She cried out in the heights of
rapture known only to those who have tasted the white
heat of forbidden pleasures.
I'd never seen anything like it! Ellen and Roger were
boiling with lust. Their bodies thrashed against the
other like hellish morsels in a bubbling cauldron. Her
nipples were dark and swollen as her brother's mouth
lathed her soft breasts. He was riding his sister with
a fury.
Bucking against his groin, she thrilled in their
unspeakable taboo, a tumultuous sweetness they'd never
known. Her hands ran up and down his torso. The
inflamed yolks of her eyes were wild, rolling in wide
circles as his tool skewered her steaming channel. Her
eager cunt sucked in his lengthy member like a muscular
hand milking a bloated udder.
Ellen's knees pressed against his body. Her gyrating
groin was pliant and responsive, yielding to Roger's
full lusty length. Transfixed at the long cock boring
deeper into her cunt, she wiped the tears from her
cheeks. Sobbing in erotic abandon, she whimpered, "Oh
GOD, I'm so HAPPY! I want you to fuck me FOREVER!"
She returned his ardor in full measure as his tool
plowed on, throbbing through her cuntal walls like a
resonating telephone pole.
"I will," he promised, his muscular hips ramming
between her legs.
He groaned. He was about to come! He was shoving his
hips forward savagely, his cock slamming into her like
a jackhammer.
Her body blushed as she accepted it eagerly; and, now,
lost in a whirlpool of lust, Ellen wailed in ecstasy,
"YIIIEEE!" Her head thrashed from side to side, her
long hair flailing the air. She was returning his
unbridled passion in full measure.
Ellen bucked ferociously against his ramming groin. She
gasped, "Oh, Roger! DO it to me, Roger! I'm going to
come! You're so BIG! And in so DEEP! Oh GOD!
I'm...I'm..." She was biting her lower lip, a trickle
of blood streaking down her cheek and neck. Her long
legs stroked his muscular back. She enwrapped her arms
about his neck as the soft fullness of her lips pressed
against his. The blood from her lip was staining the
carpet.
As the orgasmic storm was about to overtake them, their
tongues twined; their eyes closed to prepare their
fevered minds and bodies for the fullest of pleasure.
And then it happened! Both shuddered and moaned amid
the explosive force of her brother's fluids bursting
through her molten channel. Ellen screamed like a
banshee, "OOOHHH, JESUS!" She was coming savagely. She
threw back her head with a long erotic wail, relishing
his spurting cock throbbing within her; his warm lava
erupted and cascaded through her depths for an eternity
of a half-minute; her depths were overflowing with his
endlessly gushing orgasm.
Her toes pressed against the carpet like a ballerina's.
She raised her hips, forcing her shuddering groin
against his as the orgasmic after-shocks flooded
through them. Her vaginal muscles were in rapturous
spasm, milking every last drop from his ejaculating
prick as her cunt pulled tightly on it again and again.
I was coming also, my knees buckling as I leaned
against the wall, spurting into the robe.
They collapsed into a cuddle, his cock still in her
tight depths. They grinded greedily against the other,
fiery flesh against flesh. His lips crushed hers as
each sibling hugged and stroked the other's pulsating
nakedness.
They remained like that until Ellen murmured, "If I
were any fucking drunker, I'd be on another planet."
They laughed uncontrollably, then quieted.
Ellen was staring into the deep blue pools of her
brother's eyes. His jaw was slack, his mouth dry. He
grasped his glass of wine from the coffee table, gulped
half of it down, then touched the glass to his sister's
lips. She drank it greedily, unwilling to allow the
peak of their intoxication to slip away. He then
reached for Ellen's half-full glass and repeated the
ceremony.
They were completely stoned. After laying in unspoken
adoration for several minutes, he arose. They stumbled
toward the shower. As Ellen led him down the hallway,
she was pulling his penis up and down in her small
fist; it was softening but retaining its impressive
length.
They'd left the bathroom door ajar; I watched from the
hallway's darkness, their bodies reflected in the broad
mirror that faced the shower stall. They entered,
closing the glass door. The pinkness of their flesh
gleamed through the dim lighting as the shower spray
hissed. Steam swirled about their bodies.
I could hear a conversation but was unable to determine
what they were saying. She kneeled before him, her eyes
rolling up to watch his face as she ravenously gulped
his length in her mouth. The softness of her lips
glided along his prick until his mammoth cock had risen
to its full, excited state.
He cupped the fullness of her breasts, stroking her
round softness. He pulled her to her feet, his tongue
working its way down to her shaved cunt. He knelt
before her as if in worship. His fingers stroked the
smoothness of her mound as his tongue flicked against
her clitoris.
Her hips gyrated eagerly against his mouth as she
tossed her head in wild abandon.
He stood, turning Ellen away from him, forcing her
hands flat against the red tiled wall.
Ellen leaned into the wall, turning her head to look
behind her; she gazed down upon his broad swollen cock,
the head of which glistened a dark wet purple. She
spread her legs wide in eager expectation to accept his
lengthy gift. Her lips trembled. She shuddered heavily,
pushing her smooth, virgin-like cunt back against him
in an eager, grinding motion.
Her brother's eyes surveyed her perfect body, his hands
sliding down her back and cupping her buttocks
lovingly. Grasping her thigh with one hand and his
massive cock with the other, he leaned forward, poising
his weapon. She tensed fearfully as the tip made
contact with the mouth of her swollen cuntal lips from
the rear.
He entered slowly at first; then with a sudden shove,
he sheathed his broad sword to the hilt. The savage
onslaught caused her mouth and eyes to open widely in
surprise. They were like dancers as his thick rod
savagely slithered into her blistering depths.
His sister was sobbing, "Uh Huhhh! Uh Huhhh! Shove your
brotherly cock deep into me, Roger! Fuck me! FUCK me
like you LOVE me, Roger!"
With each barbarous thrust, her buttocks flattened
against the hardness of his stomach. She moaned in
joyful anguish as he worked through her depths.
Whimpering, she twirled her fingers around her clitoris
as she rotated her hips in fervid passion. She
squealed, "Oh, GOD! I'm COMING! DO it, Roger! FUCK it,
Roger! SHOVE it IN me, Roger! Oh, ROGER! FUCK MEEEEE!"
Ellen's back arched expectantly, then she shivered, her
hands reaching behind her to grasp his hips as the
orgasm throbbed through her. She sobbed, biting her
lower lip, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She grasped
the bulging base of his cock as it skewered through her
creaming tunnel.
Roger's jaw slackened. He increased his tempo, ramming
his tool home with a vengeance. His body jerked as he
muttered, "I'm coming, Ellen!"
Ellen cried, "Oh YES!" as she pressed the nakedness of
her quaking back against her brother's shuddering chest
and stomach. She fucked her hips back and forth
ecstatically and murmured, "I can FEEL it about to
EXPLODE! OHHH YESSSS!"
He shuddered and groaned, lost in a tornado of passion.
Ellen's body spasmed as she leaned forward, bracing her
body as her fingernails clawed at the walls.
And then it happened! He exploded. She screamed at the
sensation of his heated sperm, spurting like a mad
volcano through her vaginal walls. She was crying,
biting her shoulder in ecstasy.
Wiping her tears away, She mewed, "I loved it! I LOVED
IT!" She turned, their arms twining like they had so
many years before. And there they stood, beneath the
warm spray of the streaming shower, their brotherly and
sisterly flesh pressed together from head to toe.
When their bodies parted, she grasped his tool,
stroking it lovingly to milk the last of its warm cream
flowing through him. He mouthed her breasts.
Her nipples stood out like spikes as she smiled down on
her little brother; she stroked the back of his head
with her other hand, her fingers combing through his
thick black hair. Her body trembling in after-shocks,
she gyrated her satiated cunt against his muscular leg.
Breathing heavily, I leaned against the hallway wall,
as exhausted as if I'd been through the same exercise.
That had been one hell of a night.
You'd think this incident would have invited a repeat
performance. It didn't, but I'd learned long ago that
few things in life work out the way we think they
should.
But Ellen and Roger laugh about it now, admitting it
couldn't have happened if they hadn't been drunk.
Neither has ever been drunk again.
CHAPTER 7: Passion's Peak
A development company recently contracted Bill for an
engineering consulting job in the Carolinas. I usually
don't go with Bill on his business trips, but because
he would be gone for 3 weeks, I accompanied him. The
firm's architect, Fred, and his wife, Linda, who were
leaving on vacation, let us stay in their home.
We'd met them the previous evening, just before they
drove to the airport. Fred insisted, "We don't mind you
using our home. There isn't another house within a
mile, so we're glad to have someone look after the
property!" Fred's a personable, balding man in his
forties. His wife, Linda, a secretary for a local
banker, is in her late twenties, trim and attractive.
Perched atop a high mountain, the home overlooks
expanses of forested mountains and the distant town
where Bill would be working. Even if we'd tried, we
couldn't have found a hotel room with this exquisite a
view.
An hour after Bill had left for work the next morning,
I awoke, lifting my robe from a chair. In my
transparent nightgown, I walked to the kitchen. I
heated a cup of diet hot chocolate, draped the robe
over my lap and sat on the couch as I gazed out the
broad window. The sun's crimson rays rippled through
puffs of clouds, above a sea of fog extending almost to
the mountain's peak.
Hearing an engine humming up the winding unpaved road
toward the home, I slipped on the crimson satin robe. I
peered through the front door's glass. A blond, lean
and muscular six footer, in a blue velvet blazer and
white slacks, climbed from the jeep, reached for his
briefcase, and strode toward the house. He knocked,
then boomed, "Linda? Fred?"
I tied the robe's belt, opened the door, and smiled,
"I'm Ellen. Linda and Fred left on vacation. My husband
and I their 'official' house-sitters."
Frustrated, he apologized, "Sorry. My name's Jack. I'm
a vice president at the bank. Linda's my secretary. I
was hoping I'd get here before they left. I'd told her
that it would be a couple of months before I'd need
some documents she's been working on at home. I
received a call this morning from a bank customer that
the deal's going through on Friday, so I hoped I'd
catch Linda before she and Fred left." His voice was
slow and modulated, a trace of a southern accent. He
was, well...handsome.
"Come in," I offered. Closing the door behind him, I
suggested, "Perhaps we can find the papers." He thanked
me, and we located the papers within minutes on the
architect's desk, alongside an electric typewriter.
He flipped through the file folder, saying, "Just like
Linda! The work's finished. Letter perfect, research
and all! She's the world's greatest secretary!"
"Nice compliment," I commented, glancing to his gold
wedding band. I gestured to my half-filled cup, asking,
"You like hot chocolate?"
Nodding affirmatively, he laughed, "I don't need to get
to work so early anyway, since the work's finished."
As we talked on the couch, I explained why Bill wasn't
home. Jack's blue eyes grazed my body. I glanced to a
mirror atop a bookcase, seeing that my robe was open,
exposing a generous portion of my breasts through the
transparent nightgown. Pretending I hadn't notice his
stare, I walked to the kitchen to fill a pitcher of
chocolate as a frightful drumbeat fluttered within my
breast. I sat alongside him as I poured, my legs bent
beneath me.
I appraised Jack's perfectly healthy complexion, not
tanned but palely reddish. His eyes glinted, gazing now
and then to the robe's open neck. We fell silent.
Trembling, I licked the dryness of my lips. His hand
brushed mine. My lips parted as he leaned to kiss me.
My arms encircled his neck as his lips crushed mine. I
whimpered. His hands were now beneath the robe,
caressing my heaving breasts. My nipples were standing
out like spikes.
He stood, pressing my body to his, his long hardness
throbbing against my groin and thigh.
The telephone rang! I pulled away, lifting the
receiver, and gulped, "VanRyser's residence." Jack's
lips had enveloped a firm, reddened nipple.
It was Bill. "I'm in a bind, Ellen. I need some records
from a downtown law office, and the lawyers don't have
a messenger. No one else is here. I was wondering if
you could do it for me?"
My voice quaking, I responded, "Just tell me where and
how." I started to say playfully that he could sure
pick some great times to call me, but I didn't want
Bill to think I was complaining about the favor he was
requesting. Anyway I doubted that Jack would have
believed me, had I told him I had my husband's
approval. Hanging up, I suggested to Jack, "Are you
free tonight?"
He was stunned, a bit nervous, so I lied, "Bill's
leaving for Florida early this afternoon. I'm alone for
the evening."
He smiled. His wife was in Toronto for a club
convention, he told me, adding, "What time?"
When I arrived at the developer's office, I told Bill
what had happened.
Nodding his approval, he grinned, "I'll be home an hour
before Jack arrives."
At 7:30 that night, Bill was relaxing in a patio
folding chair in the master bedroom's walk-in closet. I
was sitting on the couch, attired in a white satin
dress, slit to the thigh, pretending to read an
Architect's Digest while I awaited Jack's arrival. I
was too nervous to read. A feeling like fear grips my
stomach when I feel aroused. My breath was huffing like
a smokestack on a toy train.
The doorbell clanged.
A 15-mile-an-hour wind was blowing through the foyer as
I held the door open for Jack. At 5'8", I was only 4
inches shorter than Jack, but the red western boots
beneath his dress gray jeans added 2 inches to his tall
figure. He stepped in from the darkness, kissing me as
he pushed the door closed behind him. Handing me a
bottle of champagne, he breathed, "You're beautiful."
Smiling, I took his sheep-collared waist jacket, hung
it in the entryway's closet, then turned on trembling
knees to retrieve a couple of wine glasses. His blue
western-style shirt was tailored like a glove. Handing
him the frosted glass, I remarked, "You changed
clothes."
He nodded affirmatively. "Uh huh. Showered, shaved, et
cetera. Had to do something to calm my nerves tonight."
I'd clicked on the stereo and turned off all but the
decorative red-bulbed dining room chandelier, bathing
the room in a soft crimson glow. A slow melody was
drifting from the room's four speakers. He beckoned me
to dance.
My legs were shaking, my breasts heaving in desire. My
slender body seemed particularly small and vulnerable
as I leaned my head against his chest. Jack's fingers
stroked my shoulder length black hair, his lips tracing
a sinuous path down my neck as he fondled the soft
fullness of my breasts. His manhood was growing in the
tight slacks, throbbing against my groin and thigh, as
his hips pressed mine. My trembling body was now as
pliant as putty, my heart pounding so hard I couldn't
breathe.
The song ended. I trembled as he swept me up to carry
me down the long hallway to the master bedroom. Joyous
tears pooled in my eyes.
I'd forgotten Bill who was watching from the closet,
only a dozen feet from the bed where I lay in the
dimness. I moaned beneath the tall form standing above
me. Jack removed my shoes, then my red satin belt,
unwrapping the dress to find I wore nothing beneath. He
was staring at my breasts, my stomach, my shaved mound,
as he popped loose the snaps of his western shirt. His
slacks slid down his hips.
I gasped! His engorged manhood burst free, curving up
more than a foot from a patch of thick dark hair. "Oh,
my GOD!" I muttered, fearfully, my eyes wide. Although
I was having second thoughts, I pulled his hips near.
He knelt alongside the bed. My quivering lips parted.
My mouth enwrapped his cock, gliding along the
frightening length.
My eyes rolled up to look at him. His eyes were glazed
with lust as he disengaged and lay alongside me.
I glanced to the closet door Bill had left ajar. Unable
to see my husband, I knew he would now be feeling my
own mad desire, pumping - as he always did while
watching - his hardened cock in the closet's darkness.
I closed my eyes, relishing Jack's gentle hands
exploring the soft curves of my body. My nipples
tingled as his lips closed around a hard, reddened
spike. Impassioned fear churned within my stomach. I
pursed my lips, hissing in desire, as his tongue
twisted a winding path to my shaved mound.
I thrust my hips to his face, grinding my cunt against
his mouth, my heart pounding a wanton drumbeat as his
tongue twirled over my clitoris. I wailed at the
thrills rippling through me like an electric current
coursing across a thunder-laden sky. Clasping my thighs
around his ears, I dug my heels into his back as fiery
explosions blossomed within my pussy. Tears of joy
streaked along my cheeks like rivulets of rain on a
jetliner's windows.
I pulled him above me until his knees were straddling
my breasts. He braced his arms against the headboard
above me. My lips stretched widely as I took his
rubbery monster in my mouth. My head bobbed as my
tongue slurped along its length.
Now, beyond lust, I was WORSHIPING this broad, purplish
cock thrusting down the moistness of my throat. His
instrument hammered into my mouth until my passion was
unbearable. My voice muffled by his wide cock, I
pleaded, "Mphhh! Please, Jack, I WANT you! I can't WAIT
any longer!"
My hips gyrated expectantly. My long legs now opened
eagerly to accept his huge curving cock floating toward
the lips of my vagina. I shivered. Realizing that his
manhood was much longer and broader than any I'd ever
encountered, I whimpered with fright as he pushed past
my cuntal folds.
He was splitting me apart! I screamed softly. Shocks
rippled through my groin as he pressed on, my vaginal
walls expanding incredibly for this giant tool. Yet I'd
rather have died than have him stop now. Red coals of
passion smoldered in my vagina. I loved every inch of
this massive freight train slowly puffing into my
smoking tunnel.
Jack was clearly aware of the difficulty, although I
was crying as much in pleasure as in pain. Finally, he
was as far into my gushing depths as he could push. My
pain disappeared, replaced by blinding rapture. He rode
me with a fury, my cunt now burning in our forbidden
fires. My legs enveloped his hardened torso, my shaved
mound quivering up to match every steaming thrust.
In the stunning thrills of fucking Jack, I'd forgotten
Bill; but as I thrashed my head side to side, I
glimpsed my husband's nude form step from the closet to
watch Jack's magnificent weapon invading my quivering
cunt. Logic and will abandoned me. I was far too lost
in this hurricane of passion to acknowledge my husband
by smiling at him as I normally would while he pumped
his engorged cock.
The emblazoned yolks of Jack's eyes rolled as he
plunged into me. I opened my mouth widely as if this
would somehow expand my cunt further to accept Jack's
final inches.
Bill jaw was sagging as he pumped his full length in a
fury. Jack's body and mine pulsated with a radiance.
Our explosion was imminent. Bill's intense stare told
me that his mind and Jack's were now one.
I cried out as Jack's flames united with mine into a
blazing inferno. We shuddered with each thrust, our
eyes glazing, craving the ultimate gratification -
release from this overwhelming passion.
I mewed, "Oh, FUCK ME JACK! FUCK MEEEEE!" Raging tides
of passion coursed through my body. Delirious, I
screamed, "Oh! God help me, Jack! I LOVE you, Jack! I
LO-O-O-O-VE YOU!" I loved him, loved in adultery,
uniting in flesh that which was already in our minds
and souls.
And then! OH GOD! It happened in a blinding flash! We
were coming in thunderous waves. Our orgasms burst in a
super-nova of pleasure, raging through my creaming
cuntal walls. My mind was exploding with fiery
fragments that spider-legged like a billion falling
stars across the evening skies.
Jack's lips grazed my breasts in the blissful after-
glow of our adultery, our arms entertained for an
eternity of a half minute. As I fluttered to earth, I
remembered Bill.
I looked over Jack's shoulder. My husband had returned
to the closet and closed the door.
I smiled. Now, because of my unquenchable desire for
the largest male member I'd ever known, my husband
would have to remain there until morning. Jack would be
mine for the night! Our journey into passion has just
begun.
Jack forced me to turn. My knees sunk into the red
satin sheets like coconuts into quicksand, my hands
braced against the wall above our headboard. His large
hands grasped my hips. The yolks of my eyes rolled
madly as his massive member was entering my vagina from
the rear. I moaned. My husband was now in the closet,
hearing all but unable to see us.
I turned to look back, awed by Jack's huge cock. My
pursed lips formed an "oh" as I watched the instrument
pushing deeply into my excitedly-lubricated cunt. I
spread my knees ever wider as the length and breadth
filled me. Sobbing in desire, I reached to caress his
member behind me, my hand shaking. He slowly thrust
into me until I was whimpering with pleasure, "I LOVE
you, Jack! I LOVE YOU!"
I sucked in my breath at the stunning sensations. I
stared as he fucked into my depths, my lips parted in
wonder. We shared a sigh. I couldn't tear my eyes from
his cock, which was now bulging at its base, in an
impending explosion, as he groaned, his hips rolling
and shuddering.
I gasped! Jack's firm manhood was expanding to an
incredible size with the onrushing tidal wave of a
massive orgasm. My clitoris fluttered unbearably as if
to tell me we were to be coming together in a mind
boggling finale! My back arched expectantly, my fingers
digging into his hips behind me. I wailed, a long,
modulated shriek of passion.
And then, we were exploding in rapture! Crying with
wild abandon, I shivered like a tree in an earthquake.
His warm semen burst through my channel, the creamy
fluid splattering my inner walls, washing over his
cock, which was now erupting with a volcanic flow of
steaming lava. I was sobbing, spinning, in a thrilling
roller coaster ride down pleasure's glowing corridor.
We fluttered back to earth, collapsing in
gratification. His fingers stroked the small of my back
as he whispered, "You're beautiful, you know."
"Thank you," I responded softly, turning to him. "So
are you." I stroked his cock, now soft and pliable,
glistening beneath the moonlight that filtered through
the transparent drapes.
We showered in the orange glow of the bathroom's dim
lighting. I was on my knees, pleasuring him with my
lips until his magnificent manhood was curving up like
a Turkish scepter.
Pulling me to my feet, he forced my back to the red-
tiled wall, pushing my legs apart. I struggled half-
heartedly, even now afraid of his length and breadth,
as the water pounded my face. Turning my head away from
the shower's storm as he entered me, I shut my eyes,
whimpering. My hands pressed against the shower walls
in helpless abandon. Steam was rolling around the warm
air of the shower like ocean spray in a Florida
hurricane.
As I thrashed beneath him, I banged my head against the
shower door, causing its glass to shudder. My cuntal
muscles were in spasm from his godawful size!
I loved him but feared him. "GOD!" I screamed as Jack's
weapon slithered mercilessly through my depths, "Drive
it INTO me, Jack! Your cock is KILLING me! FUCK me,
Jack! Oh, GOD! You're splitting me APART!" I wrapped my
legs around his hips, fucking back against him. He
pressed my back to the floor as I cried out in passion.
In the steam, his face was now unrecognizable, as if I
were being fucked by an unknown lover in a warm fog.
Our desire went into overdrive. I was a galactic
surfer, riding the highest pleasure wave, washing
across a cosmic sea to a splendored shore. Logic and
will had now abandoned me amid a firestorm on a planet
in a timeless universe. My clitoris shuddered. The
planet's core was about to erupt.
And then! The glowing stars exploded in supernova. I
was slipping through a long, shuddering tunnel in
pleasurable darkness as I came, then came again, and
again, and OH GOD, AGAIN, my mind shattering into
gratified fragments.
Finally, at 4 a.m., I lay sleeping, a leg over his, an
arm over his chest, until a movement stirred me. He
slumbered. I stared down at his awesome cock. I
worshiped it with my lips and tongue, then slept again,
awakening with the morning sun rippling through the
windows. Jack was gone.
But Bill lay alongside me. Grinning.
Jack visited three times a week until Bill's project
was completed. I gave myself eagerly. Finally, two
nights before we were to return to Florida, I told Jack
about my husband's penchant for "watching."
On our last night, the day before Thanksgiving, Jack,
Bill, and I drank white wine as we watched a video in
the family room. Jack sat alongside me on the floor,
our backs against the couch, while Bill sat in a chair
across the room.
Jack pulled me to him. We removed the other's clothing.
I straddled him, lowering my hips as his long cock
submarined through my molten channel. Moaning, I was
impaled on his staff. Electric thrills throbbed through
my legs. Jack's smooth skin brushed the insides of my
thighs as he fucked me.
Bill hovered above me, his arms braced on the couch. I
unzipped his fly, pulling out his manhood. My lips
glistened along Bill's length as Jack thrust his
splendid tool through my steaming walls.
I was thankful as the two men fucked me. Thankful,
because I love Bill. I also love adultery. Thankful,
because I don't have to choose between the two.
Thankful that my depths had never been so filled.
THE END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 65