Passion Vacation?
I Swap In a recent national magazine article a noted psychiatrist stated, "Almost half of today's widows pose a serious threat to the marital security of the average wife."
He cited as an example a particular case history of a distraught wife who was restrained by her husband as she attempted to stab a female friend with a kitchen knife. "Let me go," she had screamed. "I know she wants to fuck you and I won't let her do it. She's just a pissy whore who's on the make for my husband's cock and I won't let her get away with it. Being a widow doesn't give her the right to pluck prick whenever she gets an itchy pussy." The husband had arranged for therapy sessions for his wife immediately.
The psychiatrist went on to explain why wives fear widows. "Most widows are more to be pitied than censured," he continued. "But there are some widows who are alarming wives to such an extent that they believe their marriages are being threatened."
When a marriage is dissolved by death, it is only natural for a widow to try to start a new life by keeping her eyes open for a new mate. The trouble is that some widows look for a suitable husband in the direction of one who is already happily married.
A peculiar feature about such widows is that they show no great concern for the husband's wife and family.
The promiscuous widow is generally a woman who may be in doubt about her own attractiveness-which is no doubt the reason she spends so much time and money in beauty salons-but she is never in doubt about her ability to satisfy a man sexually.
Nothing can sway her from her belief that her past experiences will hold her in good stead should another unwary male walk into her trap.
It is this type of promiscuous widow who alarms wives to such a degree that they tremble at her approach, although, in all truth, she may harbor not the slightest thought of annexing another's husband.
She is the center of attention among her friends, and although they may put their best foot forward in friendliness, actually they are alert against the slightest moral transgression.
The promiscuous widow has been cast in movies and in magazines as the siren to be alerted against the instant she appears on the scene. She is a danger to the sanctity of the American home! Wives fear her with a fear that is deeper than mere jealousy.
Betty Morris was a happily-married woman of twenty-eight, who, though childless, seemed blessed with a most attentive husband. Everyone in the community who knew them was of the opinion that their marriage was of a permanent nature.
Then, one afternoon, a friend of hers, recently widowed, passed through town and decided to pay Betty a visit.
She arrived with her luggage at dinnertime. Betty invited her to have dinner with them, then to spend the night and continue her trip in the morning.
Pearl Berkley was a widow who was attracted to all men, and especially to those of a virile build, like Jim Morris. Jim was handsome in a truly masculine way, athletic, with dark, curly hair. He remained Pearl of her deceased husband.
Obsessed with the desire to take Jim Morris to bed, she feigned a twisted ankle the next morning, saying a fall from the bed had caused it. And, of course, it wouldn't have been hospitable to have her leave on her trip with a sprained ankle. So she stayed.
Within the next few days, she exploited her charms, of which she had considerable, to the fullest extent. She soon had Jim Morris ready to blow a fuse. Boldly, she talked matters over with Betty, even suggesting she pick up a "boyfriend" and they swap partners.
Betty was horrified and made it plain she didn't go in for such activities. She suggested Pearl pack up and leave!
Pearl did.
That afternoon, Betty went shopping at the local supermarket. She returned home sooner than she-or they-had expected, just in time to discover her husband and Pearl in a compromising position.
They were both naked on the bed. Pearl was whimpering under Jim's heavy body. Jim was making pleasure sounds as he plunged his hard cock deep. They both had lost contact with the world.
Then Pearl jerked her head up and let out a shattering, ear-splitting scream. She'd seen Betty standing in the door.
Jim raised up, and his thick, white semen dripped from his cock and oozed all over Pearl's white belly. He gasped at his wife and weird, bubbling sounds escaped his throat.
Betty tried to stagger from the room. She sobbed in gasps, and then there was the sound of retching.
In that moment, she hated Jim! She was aware of him putting on his clothes, zipping up. Then he started cursing her. "Get out of here! Get the hell out of here!"
"You're crazy!" Betty managed. "You ought to be committed to a nut house!"
Betty Morris packed her bags, left the house, and went home to her mother. She never returned again to the scene of her happiest days.
She got a divorce, and a year later, she married again, to a college professor. Her married life turned out to be more stable.
Why do widows persist in breaking up happy homes and shattering the lives of well-adjusted couples? Is it jealousy? Or what? Only the best of psychologists would be able to answer that perplexing question. But the fact remains that in the United States, one marriage in three is destined to end in divorce.
Here is another statistic: for every divorced man or woman, there are two who, while they still assume the role of being married, do not live with their lawful mates. Promiscuous widows are the bedmates of most of these.
Another statistic bears a happier note. Marital experts reveal, after a lengthy study on the subject, that ex-wives invariably search out a suitable mate, find one, and get married as soon as it is legally possible. Small wonder that ex-wives only weeks after a divorce or separation, keep an eagle-eye peeled for a prospective mate, ready, eager and willing to go through the marital rites again.
Make no mistake about certain types of men. The promiscuous man, like the promiscuous woman, is often willing to give up his passive, unexciting married life for a widow whose physical charms indicate a sexual virility that is missing from his present marriage.
The promiscuous widow finds adjustment to monogamy almost impossible to take. It is an affront to her nature, and, in her unsettled mind, a weakness that has no place in her life. She's a swinger! She loves a swap party! She is always on the prowl for a new conquest.
The widow under thirty is practically guaranteed a second chance at marriage. If the second one doesn't work out, she may even be given another chance or two.
When she reaches forty, she may have to make the sad discovery that marital happiness is passing her by.
Nevertheless, such widows are so obsessed with the desire for companionship and a sense of belonging that they may make a last desperate attempt, often by luring some easily aroused husband away from his wife and family.
And she loves the swap party as a place for choosing a husband. That way, she knows what she's going to get!
Janice Rollins became bored and dissatisfied with her day-to-day routine, and with her marriage. One day, she was staring at her reflection in the mirror. "Is this really me?" she asked herself. Only a few short years ago she'd been the darling of the neighborhood. Now, she was the mother of two growing youngsters, and she'd really let herself go down.
Her reflection had revealed a still rather attractive young woman in her mid-twenties. But she looked tired. The lines in her face told of her boredom with housework. Her husband, George, was a good provider. He had a secure position with an oil company. But Janice was restless and dissatisfied with what her life had become.
Her two chubby young sons, Eddie and George, Jr., were healthy and lively, but they drained her. There was little strength left in her to act as a real wife to her husband. She realized that her value as a woman was being drained away from her.
She complained of her hard day when she crawled under the covers with George that night. George moved closer and took her into his arms. His fingers performed their nightly ritual that was supposed to stir her desires. But she could give only her small, customary response. Often, she had to bite down on her lips to keep from crying out when George's cock pierced her body and he made violent love to her body. She didn't like it. She didn't know if it was a feeling of distaste or just disinterest. She wished he would shoot his wad and get it over with.
"You're like a keg of ice!" he complained bitterly when he had finished. "You're not like the Janice I married a few years ago! What has gotten into you?"
"It's just the routine, George!" she snapped.
"Don't you think I like a little adventure?"
He kissed her full on the lips. "Next time," he said, "I'll use some new techniques! I'll give you a damned good fucking! And I'll end it up by spanking your ass!" He grinned and added, "My daddy used to tell me that men ought to give their women a good spanking now and then to keep them in line!"
"That's not funny!" she snapped, making a pretense of being tired as she snuggled under the covers.
Sleep was evasive. She felt the pangs of frustrated emotions and the torment of unfulfilled desires. Her heart and body and soul ached with passion unspent, for there was no thrill for her in the sex act anymore.
The following few weeks were strained. Each morning, George went through his ritual of shaving with the same thoroughness he performed the sex act at night. He dressed, came down to breakfast, unfolded his newspaper, and ate as he read. On the way to work, he gave Janice a good-bye peck on the cheek.
Their evenings were just as dull. Whenever they shared a moment of intimacy, it was mechanical. Fucking was like an obligation that had to be fulfilled.
One day, Janice confided her predicament to her best friend.
Her friend held out a shred of hope. "Janice Rollins," she said, "I'm surprised you didn't know most marriages go through this phase! The one and only remedy is for you and George to break the routine. Why don't you leave your children with your folks and you and George go away for a few weeks? New sights and new surroundings will make you over into new people."
The suggestion sounded fine. When Janice told George about it, he was also in favor. George was able to get a three-week vacation, and Janice's folks eagerly took the children. They both looked at road maps and travel folders and decided on a small trailer camp in the Colorado mountains, near a lake. George bought a nice trailer.
At the camp, they went boating, swimming and fishing. At night, the others gathered for parties, and they were invited. They became especially friendly with two other couples. They roasted wieners together and sipped Cokes by the flickering flames of a fire at night. One night, one of the wives suggested, "Let's have a game of cards."
They'd been swimming and were in their bathing suits. One woman had a poker deck in her beach bag and brought it out. The vacation had already made Janice feel better toward George, and yet he didn't excite her very much sexually.
"What will we use for stakes?" she asked.
There were some whispered murmurs and giggles. Then, one of the women piped up and said, "Let's use what we have-our husbands!"
At first, Janice thought it was a joke. She'd heard shocking stories about bored husbands and wives who swapped with one another.
George cast questioning glances in her direction, but she said nothing. The men snickered among themselves. Janice suddenly thought it might be a good way to make George jealous. She'd offer herself to another man in the card game! She wouldn't go all the way, but she'd tease George!
"Good idea!" she said. "I hope I get the best man in the bunch as my prize!"
The other men laughed hoarsely and regarded Janice with a senuous look. "Okay," one of them said, moving close, "let's cut the cards."
The game was brief. The women used the three men as stakes, and Janice won the man called Bob. Together, they consumed a few bottles of beer, and it was nice when Bob put his arms around her and drew her down on the blanket. She expected to find George standing over them and declaring things had gone too far. Maybe if he had threatened to hit any man who touched her, it would have restored her confidence in his love.
But George acted nonchalant. In fact, he'd won a cute girl, one of the younger women. When Janice saw him massaging her tits, fury welled up in her. Well, two could play the game! So she said sweetly to Bob, "Come on, Bob, show me how a real cocksman is supposed to act!"
"You-you mean it?" His handsome head came close to hers, and his strong arms crushed her to his rock-hard chest. His lips brushed across hers in a teasing gesture. Janice arched her back and let him caress her shoulders. As his fingers slipped down and explored her pussy, she shuddered with pleasure. This was going to be the excitement she craved. Gone and forgotten were the routines of her married life! Here was forbidden pleasure that enlivened her.
Lost in passion, she did not even notice when Bob slipped off her bathing suit. She just melted into his arms and felt his warmth. His hard cock prodded against her belly.
"I'm hot for it," he breathed in her ear. "Sometimes I've got to have it-and this is one of the times!"
He ran his bare, hot hand up her legs, and she parted them. She sucked in her breath as his fingers parted her cunt lips.
"Where are we gonna do it?" she asked.
"Right here," he whispered. "The others will be at it, too, in a minute. Just stretch out, okay?"
"Yeah." She caught his cock and massaged it hotly. Man, she was hot! She felt her cunt sopping. When Bob tickled it, she squirmed.
She let go of his prick and positioned herself to receive him. He was upon her instantly, feeling down, guiding his cock into her. It was bigger than her husband's tool, but it slid in greased and warm. He thrust, and she sighed softly and wiggled her ass.
He began fucking her hard and fast. It was a screwy thing, getting booted there on a blanket, surrounded by other couples. Some of them were at it, too, by now.
Bob asked, "How come your husband doesn't give you enough? He must be crazy for not humping you good!"
Janice shrugged under him. She was hot in the snatch and felt there was no sense in worrying about George just now.
Bob caught her rear end, holding it with both hands, pushing her closer to him. His cock reamed in and out of her foaming pussy. When he touched her clit, she squirmed and made sounds with her lips.
She liked it, so he diddled her and fucked her at the same time, and she nearly went crazy.
Suddenly, she came. Her orgasm convulsed her. She breathed hard, and her body undulated and shuddered. He kept fucking her hard, as hard as he could drive it in. She loved it.
He lasted a long time before he started shooting his semen into her. It came in heavy spurts, before it began to subside. At last, he dragged his cock out of her and fell weakly upon her belly. It remained steel hard. Pretty soon, he put it back into her pussy and kissed her passionately. She undulated against him with enticing lushness. He teased her with his prick, making her sigh and wiggle, entering her only a few inches at a time.
Soon, they were at it again.
His lips closed over hers, and their tongues met and tangled.
"Wanna come again?" she asked.
He nodded. "Uh-huh."
She pulled him down harder upon her. "Don't hold back," she said.
She took all of his long dong and laved it with her pussy lips as she began to squirm under him. She started to pant and clamped down on his lower lip. She had him starting to come in a second.
She knew when he started erupting. He gritted his teeth in anguish and pleasure and panted hard as her cunt lips milked him. He pushed his cock in and out, as if wanting her to take his balls and all! God, what a fucking he gave her!
Sensations flooded her, harassing her nerve ends, making her shudder in ecstasy. His tongue continued to caress hers. She panted heavily in her bliss.
"How's it feel?" he whispered. "Jesus, you're great," she giggled. "You can have all you want!"
He finished and rose to his feet, holding his prong in his hand. He went behind a tree to take a piss. When he came back, he said, "I gotta tell you something, baby! That's the best fuck I ever had!"
She reached up and squeezed his cock. "You've got a lovely one," she said.
"Thanks." His hand went over her belly and between her legs. She giggled when he squirmed a finger into her. She massaged his cock.
"I love my husband," she confessed to him. "But I love screwin' even more."
In her restless state, in her urge for excitement, Janice had become a husband swapper. And Bob had transported her to a new heaven.
But, after it was all over, she began to realize the folly of it all-or thought she did. When she looked for George, she couldn't find him. He was probably off in the woods booting some of the other girls. She went back to their trailer.
George was waiting for her. "Well, you decided to come home!" he flung at her. "Did you have a good time with that Bob?"
Suddenly, what had happened rose up before Janice. "Please," she begged, "I don't know what came over me."
When George kept taunting, she salved her shame with a cutting tone, "Bob is more of a man than you'll ever be!"
George was surprisingly silent. Finally, he said, "Go ahead and use the next two weeks of this vacation as a honeymoon with another man!"
Janice refused to go crawling to him, begging for forgiveness. She had her pride. She was arrogant. She would show George that she was desired by other men. "Bob loves me!" she cried out, tears pouring down her cheeks. "He wants me! He excites me!"
"I hope you two have a real ball," George said.
"I'm going to make the most of this vacation!"
That's when George should have spanked her, she knew. In some people, a spanking arouses the sexual impulses. And it might have done it in her.
She played more of the wife-husband swapping games. But none of the other men were as good as Bob. George participated, too, at first. Later, he stayed away and sulked.
With other men screwing her, Janice became a different person, consumed by passion.
George warned her to let up, but she wouldn't. She went on having a ball.
And then the crashing climax came at a time when her passions were raw and overpowered all sense of reason.
Everybody was having a party, except George. Some new couples had joined, and Bob had brought a transistor radio which blared forth music. They were dancing naked when suddenly there was a police siren. And before they could cover themselves, a huge spotlight revealed them. To make it worse, news-hungry reporters began snapping pictures.
Before they fully realized what had happened, their husband-wife swapping was splashed all over the newspapers. It was with little surprise that Janice learned her own husband, George, had tipped off the police to what was going on.
Scandal-mongers made the most of the predicament. For days, a news-hungry public was fed on the details of the swappers' actions. When the case came to court, the judge was stern. He fined everybody heavily and put them on suspended sentences, making them report to him once a month.
"Any marriage problem," he said, "is to be brought to my attention."
Janice was given over to George's custody for a period of five years. The judge said, "If, during that time, she does anything to discredit your marriage, it is to be brought to my attention!"
The Rollins were snubbed by their neighbors. Their own families turned away from them, so they moved to another part of the city and began picking up the loose pieces of their marriage.
But George tried harder to be a lover. He blamed himself for turning into a mechanical man. He's read books on the various methods of sexual intercourse, and he's learned how to give Janice the thrills she craved.
He's a great lover now, and Janice adores him. She knows few other husbands would have been so understanding and kind.
And the key to George's greatness has been his willingness to find and bring new methods to the marriage bed.
Janice would bet anybody now that she's the best-fucked woman in town.