Chapter 1
"What a dull afternoon," Mark Hatcher said, as he got up from his contour chair and stretched. "Let's go next door and see the Pattersons. Maybe they'd like to screw."
"Screw, screw, screw!" his wife retorted. "That's all you ever think about."
"Oh-ho! Look who's talking."
The dark-haired man crossed the den to the door. His yellow knit shirt and expensively contoured slacks complimented his athletic build. At twenty-eight, he was as trim and handsome as when he was graduated from college.
Virginia (Ginger) Hatcher remained in her chair. One leg was drawn up, her foot resting on the chair seat. Her pink stretch pants pulled tight on her shapely hips and thighs. Red hair tumbled around the shoulders of her floral-print blouse.
She was watching a discussion program on TV. "Well, are you coming or not?" Mark asked, his hand on the doorknob.
"Why don't you call them? Maybe they're not even home." She kept watching the program.
"They're home. I saw Candy in the backyard a little while ago."
"And she looked good enough to eat, hmm?"
"Don't be snide."
"Oh shit, Mark!" Ginger said, as she stood. "It's just that you have such a frigging one-track mind. There are things in the world besides sex."
"Yeah. Dull things. Come on."
They left their ranch style home by the side door, crossed under the carport, and picked their way through the rose bushes which divided their lot from the Pattersons'.
Candy Patterson, in her kitchen, saw them approaching. "Paul?"
"Yeah, cutes," he answered from the living room. "We're about to have visitors. Mark and Ginger."
"Wonder what they want." Guess.
"Hey, that wouldn't go bad today, would it?"
"Cunt hound," she said to him softly as she strode through the living room, taking off her apron. She wore trim white shorts and a sleeveless top. The outfit made her look like a showgirl, with her long, lusciously curved legs, billowy buttocks, and jutting tits.
Paul was on the chunky side and appeared rumpled in a nondescript shirt and brown slacks. He got up from his chair and dropped the Sunday paper which he'd been reading.
The Pattersons were in their middle twenties and, like the Hatchers, childless by choice. They had a house of their own in a fashionable suburb because (a) they could afford it, (b) it was the in thing, and (c) they expected to start bringing up a family in a year or so and wanted to be prepared.
Candy patted at her curving blonde hairdo and put a smile on her face. She opened the door an instant after the chimes sounded.
"Well, hi!" she chirped.
"Hello, baby," said Mark, and Ginger smiled a greeting.
Behind Candy, Paul asked, "What is it you want, I hope?" He chuckled and looked at Ginger.
The Pattersons stepped back and let their neighbors in. Paul watched Ginger's ass gyrate past him. It wasn't quite as high or full-blown as Candy's, but it was very good as asses went. And the great thing about it, from Paul's viewpoint, was that it belonged to another man's wife.
Mark leaned and gave Candy a kiss on the cheek. She smiled more broadly. She was extremely pretty when she smiled like that-the personification of everything fresh, young and female.
Ginger's smile was subtler, more restrained. "This horny husband of mine was bored. So naturally his mind turned to carnal thoughts."
"How are the minds running over here?" Mark asked, eyeing Candy.
"Listen, buddy, we can be as carnal as you any day," said Paul.
The four friends moved into the living room.
"Drink?" asked Candy.
"Some beer, if you've got it," Mark said.
"Ginny?"
"Beer's fine."
"Relax. Four brews coming up."
Mark watched Candy's shapely butt wiggle to the kitchen.
"Mmm, what an ass!" he said.
Ginger sat down and crossed her legs. "Mark, do you have to be so crude?"
But Paul, whose wife was the subject of the vulgar comment, seemed to think it was all right. "An ass is an ass," he said. "Why pussyfoot about it?"
"That's what I, say," Mark agreed. "Call 'em as we see em.
He sat down, as did Paul.
"I hear they've been showing the Munsons' house to a black couple," Paul said.
"Great!" Mark grinned. "This neighborhood could stand a little tone."
"Very funny," Paul said drily. "But I think it's a serious matter. I wouldn't have any objection if they'd behave themselves, but their hobbies seem to be sniping and throwing fire bombs."
"I doubt if well have to worry about that." Mark was watching Ginger. She'd hardly said a word since they arrived.
"Here we go!" Candy announced, as she arrived with a tray bearing four beer bottles and glasses.
She bent to put it down on the free-form, marble coffee table.
Mark moved up behind her, noting how her tightly-drawn shorts revealed the seams of the briefs she wore beneath them. He placed his hand across her ass and shimmied the responsive flesh.
She gasped and straightened up, then smiled at him.
He pulled her into his arms.
Paul and Ginger watched them kiss. Candy's buttocks moved tremblingly as her belly agitated against Mark's. His hand held her firmly at the back. Her tits surged against him. Their tongues fenced.
Paul laughed and looked at Ginger. "That turns me on. Y'know?"
She uncrossed her legs, got up, and walked over to join him on the sofa. Her hand dropped into his crotch.
His cock twitched and started to swell.
"Oh, baby!" he exclaimed, and turned her toward him for a kiss.
As his tongue came plunging into her mouth, she thought, What I have to do to keep that bastard husband of mine happy!
She let her tongue toy with Paul's. She stroked his risen prick through his trousers. His pudgy hand came up to surround pointed tit which he rubbed, appreciating its firm resiliency. He began to concentrate on the nipple he could feel rising. He pinched and rolled it through her blouse and bra.
She always wondered why her nipples came up that way when she didn't feel much of anything under a man's hand. It must have been purely an automatic reaction of the tactile nerves.
Mark groaned in the midst of his drawn-out, passionate kiss with Candy. His cock was as high as it could get in his clothes. He slid his hand down her back, stroked the bare tops of her thighs, and brought it up to her buttocks again. He petted the firm, springy globes all over.
Feeling his erection excited Candy very much. She enjoyed swapping more than she would ever admit to Paul. Her pussy was starting to dribble now. It wanted Mark's prick.
But first ... oh, but first, if he would only kiss her down there, as he had done once!
Ginger extricated herself from Paul's embrace and slid her hand away from his loins. "Doesn't anyone want that beer?" she asked.
"I don't know how you can think of beer at a time like this," Paul said. But he grinned.
They poured their brew into glasses.
Mark slowly released Candy. She stepped back, breathing hard. She was a little flushed. Her eyes dropped to the hump in the front of his pants.
He chuckled and turned her toward the coffee table. He welcomed the opportunity to bend over and pour his drink.
"Did Paul tell you about the colored people who were looking at the Munson house?" Candy asked Ginger, deliberately trying to calm herself down.
"Yes," Ginger said, after she'd sipped some cold brew. "How do you feel about it?"
"I don't know. I hate to discriminate, but ... well, I wonder if they're ready for a neighborhood like this."
"Don't you mean you wonder if the neighborhood is ready for them?" Mark asked, as he carried his beer bottle and full glass to a chair.
"Partly that," Candy admitted.
"I think it should be possible for them to live anywhere they want," Ginger said, "and I think they should be made to feel welcome. If a black family does move into the Munson place, Mark and I will go over and call on them right away. And well do our best to be friendly."
"Oh, you liberals!" Paul said, and chuckled. He quaffed a large slug of brew.
"I don't notice that you're particularly conservative in your living habits," Mark said with twinkling eyes.
"Let's not talk politics!" Candy exclaimed, as she lit in a chair.
"That suits me," said Mark. "Let's talk sex."
"You!" She tilted her head back and laughed.
He gazed at her swelling tits. Jesus, what a pair of knockers! They were probably the best he'd ever played with.
It didn't seem right for one girl to have so much-perfect tits, a magnificent ass, lovely legs, and a hot, slick pussy with ball-bearing action. And look who she was married to-a schlump like Paul.
What did she see in him? Well, he made good money as a systems analyst for a big electronics company. Apparently he had a brain on him, though he gave little evidence of it in social contacts. Ginger had said he couldn't even screw very well.
"Speaking of sex ... and speaking of blacks," Paul said, then paused for emphasis while he swallowed some more brew. He wiped his mouth. "What do you think it would be like to go to bed with a Negro?"
The question seemed to be directed at everyone. Ginger looked at Candy. She seemed a little flustered.
Mark was equal to the challenge. He grinned. "Oh, it'd be just great, Paul! Hot stuff! They tell me nigger pussies are somthing else. And the pricks on those black bucks are huge. White women freak-out when they get all that meat shoved into them."
Ginger glared at him.
Paul put his head back and laughed. Candy looked down.
"Okay, buddy," Paul said. "You're telling me I'm sophomoric and bigoted even to suggest there might be a difference. Right?"
"I'm telling you that you think in stereotypes when it comes to race. Most people do. No white person would contend that all whites had the same characteristics-about sex or anything else-but a lot of us don't hesitate to say all blacks are alike."
"I know they're not all alike."
"Then why did you say, 'go to bed with a Negro?" You wouldn't have said, T wonder what it's like to go to bed with an Italian or a Pole.' "
"Man, I do wonder what it'd be like to go to bed with an Italian-Sophia Loren."
The women giggled.
"She's too old for you," Mark said, and sipped beer.
Paul poured the last of his brew into his glass, and he raised the glass to his lips right away. He obviously wanted to polish off the drink as quickly as possible.
This bothered Candy. She wanted to swap-screw, also. But it bugged her to realize Paul wasn't completely and exclusively satisfied with her as a mate. This was an inconsistency which she'd never examined in an objective way.
The foursome finished their drinks in a few minutes, with Paul setting the pace, then, they stood up, as if on a common signal.
"Mind if we use a bedroom?" Mark asked Paul, as he took Candy's arm.
"Enjoy!" Paul said, with an expansive gesture, and he laughed.
He pulled Ginger against him and kissed her bruisingly on the lips.
Excitement rose in Mark as he ushered Candy ahead of him, into the hall. He watched her buttocks work in the snug shorts. Yes, sir, that was an ass!
Too bad he and Paul couldn't trade wives permanently, he thought. Then ... no. Candy was too shallow. There wasn't much there, below the physical, feeling level. Ginger could be bitchy at times, and she wasn't quite as well stacked, but she reflected on life ... as he did, when his pants weren't on fire.
Candy moved quickly into a guest room. Make followed and closed the door.
She came into his arms with a little whimper. Her kiss was hungry. He fed her his tongue in slow, sensuous strokes. She wrapped her moist, soft lips around the stroking length of meat and sucked gently. His cock came up.
He unfastened her shorts and pushed them down. His hands filled themselves with the. springy globes of her ass. Her nylon underpants were almost as thin as hosiery, and his fingertips forced that flimsy fabric into the crack of her butt.
She moaned and kept sucking on his tongue. It was said that women who sucked men's tongues were thinking about sucking their pricks, but Candy had never made a move to go down on him. He hadn't tried to get her to do it. That was something that shouldn't be forced, he believed. If a woman felt she had to do it, it wasn't as good. Ginger had sucked his cock a few times, when she was in the right mood, and he'd enjoyed it very much. He'd never asked her if she sucked Paul's.
Candy pulled back and murmured, "Oh, God, I'm so hot!"
"What's the matter? Doesn't Paul take care of you?"
"I like to swap, Mark, but I don't like to talk about Paul when I'm doing it."
"Then we won't talk about Paul."
He dropped to one knee and tugged her shorts down her lovely, symmetrical legs. He gazed at the shadow of her n. pussy through her white, filmy pants.
She whined a little and ground her hips. He watched her belly button wink above the elastic of the bikini briefs. She lifted one leg, then the other, and he took her shorts off. She kicked off her flat shoes at the same time.
He pulled down her panties.
"Oh, Mark...!"
Candy was-more of a natural blonde than Ginger was a true redhead. Even so, Candy's pussy curls were several shades darker than the hair on her head.
As Mark shoved her briefs all the way down her legs, he nuzzled her belly, kissing along just above her fluff. He straightened up, and she stepped out of her pants, leaning on his shoulder for support.
He caught glimpses of her cunt lips.
Candy had a very pretty little cunt. Exquisitely pink on the inside, and pastel-shaded outside. Ginger's was darker, less aesthetically pleasing to Mark. But aesthetics weren't everything, when it came to cunts. Ginger could move hers well. So could Candy. The two women were pretty much of a tossup until the finish, then Candy seemed to give it more. There was that little fluttery grabbing inside. And she bumped as if she really meant it.
As he looked at her pussy now, from his closeup vantage point, he thought about eating it. He'd done that only once with her. He wondered if she would like it again today.
He stood, and his prick poked painfully against the inside of his clothes. He unbuttoned Candy's blouse and removed it. He unhooked her bra and drew it away.
Her titties stood out roundly, their pink, erect nipples canting upward.
Mark growled with pleasure and wrapped his large hands around them. He enjoyed the sight and wondrous feel as he squeezed that pliant, firm titty flesh, altering the shape of the boobs, but not a great deal. They were fully packed.
He thumbed Candy's nipples, bending the little towers this way and that.
She whimpered passionately. "Lie down," he said. "I'll strip."
He pulled his yellow shirt over his head, then he watched Candy arrange the bed as he opened his pants and shoved them down. He had to bend and flip off his loafers before he could remove the slacks. As he glanced up again, she was bent forward, facing away from him, folding the bedspread. Her cunt was delightfully visible.
Goddamn, he would eat it today!
He hauled his Jockey shorts off, and his cock sprang fully out, angling upward. It was thick, bald-headed, and not too long. Just under six inches. The head was the shape and color of a ripe plum. Black hair shrouded his bunched-up balls.
Having laid back the covers, Candy sat on the edge of the bed and swung her legs around, stretching out on her back. She looked at Mark's bobbing cock as he walked up to her.
He stood for a moment beside the bed, gazing down. Candy kept her eyes on his prick. Finally she put out her hand and wrapped it around the stubby, iron-hard shaft.
"Ooooh," she said.
She felt over his cockhead with her delicate, soft fingertips. It jerked. She gripped it tightly and let go.
"I really do like cocks," she said. "Some girls say they're ugly, but I like them. I like to look at them as well as feel them inside me."
He wondered if she was providing an opening for him to invite her to do something else with his prick. Maybe. But he wasn't going to suggest it. She'd have to do it on her own.
She let his pecker go, and it jerked again. He got down onto the bed, beside her. They rolled into a warm embrace. They moaned and murmured as he kissed her about the neck and shoulders, then on the lips. His hand worked a pliant tit.
He pushed himself downward and began kissing heron the breast tops, while his fingertips brushed her nipples. They grew harder and rosier. They stuck way up when they were stimulated.
She murmured, "Oh, I like that ... it's so good ... love me, Mark, love me...."
He bent his head and sucked at a nipple. He began to feel a little giddy. Her hands fluttered around his head. Her long, graceful fingers slid through his thick hair.
He moved farther down on her body.
She moaned.
He was aware of her legs parting, well before he reached them. She wanted him to kiss her cunt. Well, what woman didn't ... really?
He ruffled her pussy fur and breathed into it.
"Mark! Ooooh."
He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder. She moaned again, more harshly. He stroked her opposite thigh with his fingertips, running them lightly up and down the satiny inner slope, as he gazed at the moist, pink splendor of her cunt.
Those little lips were so slick and smooth-looking. He remembered how they'd felt against his lips and tongue. He watched a pearl of lubricant slide down the folds of rosy flesh. Her inner slit was slightly open. It was ready to accommodate a cock right now.
He bent closer yet. He inhaled her fragrance, which was just a little sharp, because the visit of Ginger and himself to her home had taken her by surprise today. She hadn't had an opportunity to bathe just beforehand and to anoint herself with powder or cologne.
He didn't mind. The slight tang stimulated him. If it had been really strong, he might have been repelled, but this degree of scent was just right. Natural.
He pressed his mouth to the moist, slippery pussy, and Candy cried aloud. She jammed a knuckle into her mouth and bit on it. Tears welled in her eyes. The flow of her sex syrup increased. She wanted to move her pelvis against his kiss, but she forced herself to remain still.
Mark licked tenderly up and down her meat, in and out of all the delicate folds, across her tingling clitty, down to the orifice again, and he jammed his tongue inside, sinking it as deeply as it would go.
She cried against the finger in her mouth-whimpering, keening softly, sobbing.
He stroked his tongue in and out of her cunt, as if the tongue were a prick. Then he tightened his lips against her cunt mouth and sucked. He swallowed some of her juice. The scent and taste fired him.
He licked up across her clitty once more. She bobbed a little then. She couldn't help it. She moaned sharply. He concentrated on her clit, twirling it, bringing it out more. He bent it with deft tongue-strokes. He took it between his lips.
"Mark!" she shrieked. "Oh, Cod! Now!"
He lunged up over her, slid his prick all the way into her cunt, and screwed her hard until she came. It took less than a minute, and the contractions of her cunt muscles were wonderful as she bounded spastically against him. Her hands gripped his back. She sobbed.
Her orgasm triggered his ejaculation, and he sent spurt after spurt of warm cream into her as he moaned and felt the blissful wave of satisfaction reach way down to his toes.
"Oh, Mark ... Mark...." she said, as he lapsed against her.
"Good?"
"Oh, yes! Oooooh!"
She kissed him moistly and heatedly all over his face and neck.
Paul undressed slowly and watched Ginger remove her blouse, then her pink stretch pants. Under them she wore pink nylon panties, the plain kind, which came all the way up to her waist. They were opaque, and he couldn't see the shadow of her pubic blanket through them.
She didn't look at him as she undressed. Her motions were deliberate, not calculated to tease or titillate. He'd had the impression about Ginger right along, ever since the swapping had started, that she wasn't particularly wild about it.
He didn't care. She was strange tail, and he appreciated her as such. What she thought about him, or about it, wasn't particularly important, so long as she opened her legs to his thrust.
He wasn't even sure that she came when he screwed her. But if she didn't, she put on a good enough act.
Candy came always. He presumed that she came with Mark, too.
Ginger took off her bra, revealing compact, pointed breasts. They were cute, quivery things with small lips. Different from Candy's. A nice change.
She whisked her pants down and bared her auburn bush. The thick hair on her mound was mostly brown, with just a tinge of red.
Paul took off his shorts, revealing a cock that was long and covered by foreskin. It was thick, but not yet erect. There had been no kissing or touching since they'd walked into the bedroom, and Ginger had undressed in such a matter-of-fact way that he wasn't physically aroused yet.
But he would be. He never had any trouble getting hard.
Ginger drew back the covers and lay down on the bed. She let her legs part a little. Paul gazed at her split, barely visible through her hairs.
His prick began to rise.
He got down onto the bed with her, and they embraced. He chuckled softly. "Nickel for your thoughts," he said. "I don't have any thoughts."
He caressed her on the belly, then up on the boobs. He rubbed his hand back and forth across her nipples, and they turned rigid. Her tits vibrated beneath his brushing touch.
She reached for his stiffened cock. She slid back the foreskin, and his knob swelled.
He had more cock than Mark-at least an inch more-but it wasn't any thicker around, so Ginger hardly detected a difference when it was in her. She had told Mark that Paul didn't use his prick as well, but that was only to feed Mark's ego. She couldn't detect much difference in their techniques. If anything, Paul lasted a little longer. But he didn't do as much beforehand. He never kissed her between the legs.
When a man did that, she responded some. But men didn't really do it well. Even Mark. They didn't have a woman's touch. Only a woman knew exactly what another woman liked the best.
Paul rubbed her between the legs, and she got hardly anything out of it. His touch was rough. She moaned a little, however, and spread her legs wider apart. Moisture began to trickle in her quim. That was just like the stiffening of her nipples-her body reacted even though she didn't feel anything where she lived.
It was a damned good thing her body did react that way, or screwing would be painful. As it was, it was only dull.
Paul hunched down to look closely at her tits. "These are real cute," he murmured. "Nice and pointy."
He fingered the nipples and tugged gently at them. They came up even harder. They were mahogany brown. He wrapped his lips around one little tip and sucked, lashing the nipple with his tongue.
She pumped his prick.
He groaned as he lifted his head from her titty. "Wanta get on top this time?" he asked. "If you like."
"Baby ... you're very sweet, do you know that?"
He kissed her and petted her cheeks, running his hands forward into her long red hair. He shook her hair gently. He turned and kissed that.
She petted the back of his head. "I like you, too," she purred.
But she kept her cool. She was hard to figure. He didn't puzzle over it much.
He helped boost her atop him. She stayed well up on her knees until she had his cock aimed just right. She carefully worked the tip of it into her slit, then slowly lowered her quim around it.
She felt snug to, Paul. Snugger than Candy usually was.
Ginger remained sitting up. She carried a lock of red hair away from her eye, and smiled down at him-but still she was cool; a little detached.
"Jesus, that feels good!" he said.
"Your cock feels good to me." (She knew all men liked to have their tools praised by the women they bedded, and the blunter the language, the better.)
"You have a sweet little cunt," Paul said, and his pecker twitched inside it.
She laughed gently. Men were kind of like small boys with their dirty talk. But she could go along with it.
She began to grind her pussy around his upstanding rod, and he growled with pleasure. He reached up and took hold of her tits. He worked them as she screwed him.
She never thought about bedding a woman when she was with a man. The two experiences had nothing in common, as far as she was concerned. One produced bliss; the other discharged an obligation. Though she was with Paul, the obligation was to Mark. She didn't begrudge it too much.
Being somewhat thinner than Candy, Ginger moved her hips with more snap. Paul liked her in the position she occupied right now. He stroked upward into her cunt, bumping gently, as she twisted and stroked her soft, slick box around his pecker. It was good! Goddamn, it was great!
He slid his hands up and down her sleek sides. He gripped the backs of her thighs and squeezed them. He gripped her hips.
"Shit!" he exclaimed.
She laughed again and screwed harder.
He began to bump more urgently up into her.
She fell forward, stretching out atop him, frog-like. She worked hard. He grasped the cheeks of her ass and squeezed them as he pumped with her. He grunted harshly. Again.
"Ooooh!" he exclaimed, as his cock began to twitch and spurt.
Ginger moved as if she were completing, bucking and vibrating. She drew all the milk from his loins. When he stopped twitching and his cock began to lose its tension, she lay still.
"Oh, baby, that was good!" he said, and petted her long, red hair.
"It was very good for me, too," she lied.
Candy laughed in a soft, silken way. "This is a funny thing," she said, resting her cheek against Mark's belly and gazing at the limp prick which she held between her forefinger and thumb. "So soft now, but a little while ago it was so stiff. It's funny how that works."
"Not so funny, really. It just fills up with blood."
"What makes the blood rush into it?"
"That's a rather complicated process. There are both mental and physical factors involved."
"I wonder if I could make the blood rush into it right now," she said wistfully, and shook the pecker back and forth a little.
"Not that way," he said.
"How?" She turned and smiled up at him.
He grinned. "You'll have to use your imagination."
She looked at it again.
He tensed expectantly. His cock was coated with come and cunt lubricant. This really wasn't the best time for Candy to try the oral treatment. But he presumed she appreciated what his condition was. She was close enough right now to smell it.
She gazed at it for a long time, holding it up between her thumb and forefinger. Then she let it drop. She moved around and sat up, her titties lurching.
He didn't feel particularly disappointed. Actually, he was a little relieved. When it happened-and he believed now that it would, sooner or later-he wanted it to be very good, for her as well as for him.
Women could enjoy cocksucking, just as men could enjoy eating cunt. He was the living proof of the latter. He enjoyed it with Candy, and with Ginger sometimes. He'd enjoyed it with other girls, too. But he didn't enjoy it always. It depended on the woman and the circumstances.
"You have very beautiful tits," he said, reaching out and lifting one.
She laughed gently, and looked down at his manipulation of her boob.
He took hold of the other one, also. He moved both of them at the same time, gently-round and round, up and down, back and forth. He caught the pink nipples and rolled them between his thumbs and index fingers. They stiffened.
"Your nipples work just like my cock," he said. "But they get hard faster than your cock does."
"It's easier for them. They don't require as much blood."
She looked at him. "Mark, I really like this swapping. Don't you?"
"You bet."
"How does Ginger feel about it?"
"She likes it."
"I'm not so sure."
"Has she ever said she didn't?"
"Not to me."
"Not to me, either," he said.
"Most people would think it was sinful, I suppose. Square people, I mean."
"What do we care about square people?" he asked, still fondling her tits.
"We don't," she said.
She leaned down and kissed him.
At the sound of the door opening, they both looked up. Paul stood there, naked and grinning.
"Are we ready for some togetherness?" he asked. "Sure," said Mark. "Come on in."
"Ginny baby!" Paul yelled behind him. "Bring the beer!"
He strode into the room, dong swinging.
This was the pattern which they had followed lately. They would screw each other's wives and husbands in private first, then all get together for group play. It did wonders for breaking down the inhibitions.
Paul's gaze licked over his naked wife, seated on the bed beside his naked neighbor.
Ginger appeared in the doorway, nude as the rest, carrying a tray with more beer. She put it down on the night table, and everybody reached for a bottle. The girls took glasses; the men didn't bother.
"Well, has everybody had a good time so far?" Paul asked.
"Just great," Mark said.
He glanced at Ginger. She concentrated on pouring her beer.
Paul gazed at his wife admiringly as he quaffed a long drink from his bottle. He got almost as much fun out of watching her with Mark as he did out of screwing Mark's wife. He didn't understand why he should feel this way. It was an odd quirk, he guessed. But he accepted it.
They kidded one another, and Paul told a dirty story.
Candy, who'd been a little tense, relaxed. Ginger swung with the scene, without seeming to get a great deal out of it. She was cool, as always.
Though a Lesbian of several years standing, she didn't pay any special attention to Candy in the nude. She was too smart for that. It would be murder to fool around with any woman in the neighborhood, least of all a broad whom Mark fooled around with.
All four persons sat on the double bed-Candy and Mark in the center, while Ginger and Paul sat at the edge. When they finished their beers, they snuggled down with their partners, and it was then that Paul and Ginger lay down beside the others.
It would have been very crowded, except that the bed was king-size and Mark lay mostly atop Candy, while Paul did the same with Ginger. The foursome kissed and caressed.
Paul kept glancing at his beautiful blonde wife, watching Mark squeeze her tits, tweak her nipples, and stroke her satin belly and thighs. Ginger fondled Paul's prick. As the prick gradually stiffened, he transferred most of his attention to her.
Mark petted Candy's hair and lapped gently at her pastel pink mouth. Her tongue rose to dally in the open with his. Paul caught a glimpse of that.
Ginger pulled Paul's head down to her and ran her tongue into his mouth. His cock was stiff now, sandwiched upward between them.
Mark's prick had stiffened, too. He was tonguing and sucking at Candy's luscious pink nipples, going from one to the other. He squeezed her resilient boobs as he mouthed their tips.
She slid her hand down to his cock. Her knowing fingers teased his corona and fluttered against the swollen, throbbing head.
He adjusted his position so that he lay between her thighs. She had to extend one leg across one of Ginger's. Paul looked down and watched Mark's prick nose into the slit which bisected Candy's blonde nest. The column of turgid male flesh sank out of sight within her belly. She said, "Ooooh."
Paul quickly got between Ginger's legs. She directed his prick into her cunt.
It would have been difficult for the two couples to screw side by side on the one bed, except that both wives raised their legs over their partners' backs. Mark was stroking and grinding in a slow, lazy rhythm. Paul moved faster, watching Candy's face more than Ginger's.
The bed vibrated crazily, with two different tempos going at the same time. The women moved their hips in time with the men's prick thrusts. There were little grunts, moans and sighs.
Candy's thigh was sandwiched between Mark and Paul. Paul touched it with his hand and stroked it, as he worked his hot cock jn Ginger's cunt.
Mark paid no attention to Paul and Ginger. All his concentration was centered in the twisting, stroking cunt of Candy-so slick and warm. She moved it beautifully. He gazed down into her blue eyes, then they kissed. He moved his tongue in her mouth while he moved his rod in her pussy.
The screwing lasted much longer than it had the first time. It was surpassingly good. Paul and Ginger came to climax first, and their fast-pumping hips rocked the bed. Candy caught the fever from them and began to move rapidly. Mark let her rush toward her release as he maintained his steady, deep, firm stroking. Only when she had it and her cunt began to grab at his plunging prick did he speed up, plunging faster and faster, stropping her cuntlips and clit.
She keened with ecstasy, and Paul watched the fascinating play of emotions across his wife's face as she came.
Finally Mark jerked within her and dug deep, jetting his warm, thick juice into the pit of her vagina. Aaaaaaah.
Two luscious comes in one afternoon, and with the most beautiful woman he knew-the wife of good old neighbor Paul. Not bad for a dull Sunday.