Chapter 11
Paul wrapped his thick hands around the soft-firm titties of the beautiful brunette, and bent to sample one of her nipples with his mouth.
The girl was his neighbor from down the street-Mrs. Sue Davis. He had gotten acquainted with her yesterday when her husband wasn't at home. To the rest of the neighbors, it had probably seemed like an innocent chat on her front lawn, but actually they had made a date.
This was the payoff-an afternoon rendezvous in a room at the Cozy Nest Motel.
Sue was responsive, murmuring sweetly and twisting passionately beneath his mouth. As she twisted, her full titties wobbled tautly back and forth, the erect nipples brushing along his lips.
He first sucked one, then the other. His hand stroked her thighs and belly. Finally it slid down onto her shaggy mound, stroking and plucking at the thick, soft fur.
She parted her legs for him.
He ran his fingers into her crotch, along her slippery cunt lips. He fondled the plaint flesh, sought out her clitty, and rubbed that little nubbin with the tip of his middle finger.
She cooed and squirmed harder.
"I wish that was your tongue," she told him.
He froze and pushed himself up on his elbows to look at her face. "What did you say?"
She smiled tensely. "I said I wish you'd put your tongue down there."
"You mean, on your cunt?"
"Of course. On my clit mostly. I love to have my clit licked."
"Well, I don't do that!" he exclaimed with righteous indignation.
They had stopped their sex play. She stared at him. "You mean, you don't do it with your wife?" Sue asked. "Of course not.'?"
"That poor girl."
"Oh, come on now! Just because you're queer...."
He hadn't meant to insult her that way, but she'd pissed him off, implying that he wasn't a good lover.
"Queer!" she exclaimed, her dark eyes flashing. "You call me queer just because I like a man to lick my pussy a little? You're the one who's queer for refusing to do it!"
"Now, wait a minute...."
"Oh, forget it. Let me get up, will you? I want to go home'."
He was in a turmoil. He couldn't have her leave like this. He wanted to screw her. Also, he didn't want her to be mad at him, even if she did have strange ideas about sex.
"Hey, take it easy," he said. "I'm sorry." He held her on the bed with him.
"You're sorry about what?" she demanded. "Because I want to go home or because of what you said?"
"Because of what I said."
"You don't think I'm queer any longer?"
"Of course not. I didn't mean that." He tried to grin. "I just got mad because you talked as if ... well, as if I didn't know how to make love."
"Do you know how?" she asked him directly.
His hackles threatened to rise again, but he managed to control them. His cock had slumped. Erections and arguments didn't coexist well.
"Of course I know how to make love," he said.
"Show me."
She lay down on her back and parted her legs, drawing her knees up.
He gazed at her pretty pink cunt, in its thicket of jet-black hairs.
So she was insisting that he go down on her. That was the price he would have to pay in order to keep her on that bed long enough to screw her.
He certainly wanted to screw her, but he wasn't sure whether he could pay the price. What if he got sick?
He would have to try, he realized. She'd put him squarely on the spot, and he had practically invited it. To chicken out now would make him look ridiculous in her eyes.
He steeled himself.
This was exactly the wrong attitude for a man to take when he contemplated eating a woman's cunt. He should feel loose and wanton, as if he didn't give a good goddamn about anything. Tension was almost certain to produce an unsatisfactory result for both lovers.
But Paul was tense, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Sue didn't do anything to relieve his tension, either. She was sore because he'd chosen to make an issue out of the thing. And he'd called her queer. She couldn't forget that.
She lay there and waited.
Finally he bowed his head.
The warm fragrance of her pussy reached his nostrils as he approached it. The scent was one of clean fresh arousal. Many men would have loved it, and it would have spurred them on.
But Paul almost panicked and pulled back. It was a testimonial to his will power that he continued to approach the cunt, getting his face right down next to it.
He didn't touch it immediately, however, and this aggravated Sue. She bumped her pelvis, smacking her moist, redolent twat against his nose and mouth.
His lips were pressed against the smooth split and against the hairs which lined it. His nose was at the top of her crack, inhaling the scent. His stomach lurched.
However, he pursed his lips and gave the pussy a quick, superficial kiss. He raised his head and wiped his nose and mouth quickly with his hand.
Sue stared at him. "That's it?" she asked, as if she couldn't believe it.
"I kissed you down there," he said. "That's what you wanted."
Suddenly she wasn't angry any more. She felt sorry for the man. He needed help.
"Oh, for pity sake!" she said, and sat up. "Lie down, will you?"
"What's the matter?" he mumbled, as he followed orders. "What re you gonna do?"
"I'm going to show you how to give head. Maybe when you see the way I do it, you'll loosen up a little."
She immediately bent over his loins, lifted his pecker, which was beginning to re-stiffen, and engulfed its knob in her warm, moist mouth. Snap-it swelled into full growth, and its shaft went perfectly rigid.
He made a rattling sound in his throat, and the most wonderful thrills shot through him as Sue sucked and licked at his flaming cock. It twitched and jerked happily.
Fearing that he was about to come, she raised her head. She didn't want the whole episode to end with his cream gushing down her throat.
"Did you like it?" she asked.
"Oh, goddamn!" he growled. "Sweet shit! That was the greatest!"
"Then give me a little, the same way. Find my clit. Lick and suck it. You don't have to lick my hole if you don't want to." She was deliberately being charitable with him.
He twisted around on the bed and bent to her fluffy loins. He was so excited over the way she'd treated him that he wanted to repay her in kind.
He hardly noticed her scent this time as he mashed his face against her twat. His tongue dug into the wiggly meat, found her little clitty, and began to lick it as if he really liked what he was doing.
Sue responded passionately. She moaned and pressed herself against him. Gradually he grew aware of her fragrance as he breathed in and out. But strangely he didn't seem to mind it now. In fact, the more he inhaled it, the better it seemed to him, until it became almost pleasant.
He licked and sucked and nibbled lightly-doing what came naturally in this act which he had previously considered unnatural.
Before he was through, he licked all the way down through her meaty folds and into her flaring slit. He ran his tongue in and out of it, lapping up her sticky, tangy juice.
His head went light, but his stomach stayed perfectly steady.
When he lifted his head, she smiled at him and glowed with warmth."
"Darling!" she purred. "Oh, that was wonderful! Now give me a big, fat screwing! Come on. I want your sweet cock!"
He drove his rod into her and worked it briskly up and down. She was as ready to pop as he was, and it took only a minute. The orgasm was satisfying for both of them, but strangely a little anticlimactic for Paul. He kept thinking about what had gone before, and in the back of his mind there was a nagging question:
Had Candy been missing that treatment from him, all the time they'd been married? Was that why she seemed to enjoy swapping with the Hatchers? Maybe Mark had been going down on her.
Paul asked Sue if she and her husband would be interested in some swap dates.
"Heavens no!" she said. "Oh, I wouldn't even dare mention it to him. If he knew I was here with you now, he'd kill both of us."
Paul shivered a little. "Well, maybe he'd feel differently about a swap."
"No chance! He's strictly a one-woman man, and he expects me to be a one-man woman. He thinks I am. But once in a while, I can't help kicking over the traces. Don't you dare tell anyone about this, even your wife."
Paul went through the motions of asking her for another date, but he didn't really care if she turned him down. He preferred swapping. He liked to watch Candy with another man and he enjoyed taking another woman in her presence. That was his hangup. He supposed everyone had them.
Also, he wanted to cure the. weakness in his marriage. He felt that he might know how to do it now, thanks to what he had learned today.
Sue said she thought it would be better if they didn't date again.
"Not that this didn't turn out good," she said, and added, "finally. But it's awfully risky to play around with neighbors. And please promise me you'll never tell a living soul."
"You have my word," he said.
They kissed on it, then got up. She went into the bathroom as he prepared to dress.
That night he was very attentive toward Candy.
She had been on the brink of telling him, after dinner, that she felt their marriage was a failure. But there was something about his attitude tonight which was different. She decided to give him, and herself, one last chance to prove that their marriage could work.
That was an uncharacteristically smart decision.
Candy and Paul went to bed together. He immediately tossed the covers back and removed her nightgown. He began to kiss her torso.
At first she assumed it was the old suck-titty routine, after which he would merely mount her and thrust his penis into her cunt. But he left her tits after a little while and kissed downward on her body.
She moaned and twisted passionately on the mattress.
He licked around her belly button, then into it. He fluttered his tongue:
"Ooooo, darling!" she exclaimed. "That really turns me on!"
Just wait, he told her in his mind. You haven't felt anything yet! I'm going to turn you on so strong tonight that you'll forget Mark Hatcher completely!
The truth was that she'd all but forgotten Mark already. Their last date, had been such a disaster that she'd realized he wasn't the man for her.
But who was?
Paul was about to answer that question for her, in a very emphatic way.
He held her legs wide apart and dived to place his lips against her, creamy, satin-smooth thigh. He sucked and licked along it.
She whimpered. "Oh that was good!" And he was so close to her pussy now.
Please, oh please! she prayed. Please make him lick it!
He approached the rosy, blonde-fringed shrine. Its teasing scent reached his nostrils. They flared. Goddamn, that wasn't half-bad, he thought. He seemed to be developing an appreciation for it..
He licked farther up the inside of her thigh.
"Paul!" she moaned passionately. "Ooh, Paul, I love you!
His mouth sprang to the very center of her juicy, soft cunt. She gasped, then whined sharply. She jammed a knuckle into her mouth and bit it.
He moved his lips against her succulent pussy, caressing the super-sensitive flesh. He allowed his tongue to slowly penetrate the flaring slit. It sank in and out, in and out. He lapped up her tangy, thick syrup.
"Oh, God!" she cried loudly. "Don't stop, darling! I love it!"
So it was true! That's what she'd wanted from him all the time. Well, she was going to get as much as she liked of it from now on because, strangely enough, he'd discovered that he enjoyed it, too.
He lapped and sucked at her quivering little socket. He licked up through her folds of slippery, soft flesh until he encountered her stiff clitty. He lapped at that and sucked it between his lips.
This was too much for Candy.
She had to come.
She finished tempestuously against his mouth, bumping and crying with sheer bliss as his tongue carried her through one of the sharpest, finest orgasms of her life.
He intended to screw her after that. But she wouldn't let him. She was thoroughly satisfied. Anyway, now she wanted to prove how much she'd appreciated what he'd done for her by doing something very nice for him.
This wasn't an altogether unselfish impulse on her part, for she enjoyed sucking cock, and finally she felt free to suck her husband's. And if she pleased him very much, she hoped he would want to please her again in the way he'd just done.
She guided him onto his back, and she bent over his loins. He gazed down the front of his body and watched with thrilled amazement as she wrapped her lips around the pinnacle of his pecker.
It jerked and telegraphed the most wonderful thrills to him.
She sucked his cock ardently, licking all over its head. She fondled his balls at the same time. She began to bob her head on his pecker-up and down, up and down-her lips sliding against his inflamed flesh, thrilling him out of his mind.
He couldn't keep from ejaculating. At the last moment, he tried to cry out and warn her, but he made only a rattling sound as his cream gushed up, his cock jerking in! her mouth.
She felt his warm' flood, and she clamped her lips onto his prick, sucking all the harder. It was as if she were drawing out his very life. His balls gave up all their treasure. His prick gushed and gushed. The thick fluid slid down her throat, and some of it leaked out of her mouth and dribbled down over her pretty chin.
Finally she let his spent penis fall away, and she raised her head to smile at him.
"Oh, Candy!" he exclaimed hoarsely, and he reached down to pull her into his arms.
They embraced passionately, and he kissed her. He tasted his cream in her mouth, but he didn't even mind that.
The whole experience had been wonderful-her part of it, and his as well. He knew he had saved his marriage, and they'd forged together a new basis for future happiness.
In the house next door, Mark was doing some forging of his own.
His hot prick was forging into Ginger's slippery-slick cunt. She was so happy to have it again, that she rose to his thrust eagerly, taking him as deeply into her crevice as he could posibly go. Her vaginal lips pressed against the very base of his cock. His pubic hair mingled with hers. His balls rested against her crotch.
He held himself up on straight arms and looked down at her. He couldn't help but watch her carefully, because he remained suspicious. She had welcomed him warmly to their home ... and into her body. But the whole thing could still be a trick.
The big question was-did she really like his lovemaking or just his ability to pay the bills? A man's checkbook counted for little in bed, once the screwing started. If she responded now-in a very emphatic, spontaneous way-he would believe she really loved him. But that response would have to be strong indeed.
Ginger was handicapped by the fact that he hadn't gone down on her first. He had refrained from that deliberately, to make sure that wasn't the only thing she liked about him.
Big Joe had done that with her-and very well-before she'd popped the other day. Could she pop with a man when he hadn't observed that preliminary function?
She wanted very strongly to climax with Mark. And it was with this purpose fixed firmly in her mind that she began to move her hips in response to his screwing thrusts.
He wiggled his stiff cock in her and pumped it in and out. Their bellies slapped. His balls thudded against her ass again and again.
He pawed at her titties and twisted each way to suck at the nipples, before propping himself above her again and gazing down at her face.
She was taking on the look of passion, all right. But looks could be faked. It was the way she moved, and the way she felt down below that would convince him.
She screwed her soft, slick cunt more ardently around his plunging prick. She gasped and moaned. He drove his cock to her hard.
Oh, this is it! she thought. I've got to make it with him! I've simply got to!
She'd better come, he was thinking through the red haze of his passion. She'd better prove to me now just how she feels. Is she primarily a girl's girl, or is she mine? That's what I have to know.
He got his answer.
Just as his rapidly-stroking cock was carrying him to his climax, Ginger suddenly arched upward, sheathing him deeply. She cried out, and her elastic cunt grabbed him. Again, harder. She quaked deep inside, squealed even more harshly, and her internal contractions turned into a continuous rippling sensation which worked over his pecker from its base to its tip.
Growling lustily, he let go his charge. She keened and spasmed some more.
He pumped and pumped into her until his balls were dry, then slumped forward against her sated body. Her hot mouth sought his. Their lips clung, their tongues stroked wetly, and they were as one together, truly, for the first time since they were married.
Mark couldn't help but be convinced.
Just before falling asleep beside his wife that evening, he reflected on the part which Jean Compton had played in straightening out his life and Ginger's. She was a real friend.
She and her husband would be the first couple they would invite to their home, to celebrate his and Ginger's reconciliation.
How about the Pattersons? They would feel slighted if he didn't include them in the party.
He thought about the swap dates which he and Ginger used to have with Candy and Paul. Were they a thing of the past, or should he and Ginger renew them?
Then a sinfully delicious thought occurred to him-perhaps the Comptons could be persuaded to swap with Ginger and himself. And what a kick if he could get square old Paul to swap with the Negro couple! He wondered how Candy would react to that, also.
He would have to go easy, because he didn't want to offend Jean and her husband. But they were broad-minded and would probably appreciate the humor of the situation if he were to explain Paul's and Candy's attitude beforehand.
By God, he would do it ... provided, of course, that Ginger agreed. He believed she would.
He looked forward to an interesting time for all.