Chapter 6
In spite of what Lita had told him, Don was as unprepared as Brenda for the spectacle of the party Saturday night.
Anxious to make a good impression on their new neighbors, they both spent considerable time in getting dressed. Lita had said it would be casual, so Brenda wore a new pant-suit and Don, his best sport shirt and a pair of bellbottom pants. Their fastidiousness, they discovered, had been a waste of time.
Everybody else at the party was nude.
Naturally, Brenda and Don hadn't arrived that way, and Lita showed them to a bedroom whose closet had been emptied to make room for the guests' clothes.
Even Don had to admit he felt a bit silly standing there completely naked and he looked apprehensively at Brenda to see if it bothered her. "No," she said in answer to his question, "we'd look funnier if we were dressed. Here, I mean. What does bother me is that I don't know a soul." Lita told them a few couples Brenda had met, were coming later. These were not all neighbors but swapping friends of the Grahams from all over the city.
"Here, I have something for you," Bill said, after following them into the bedroom. "Let me put it on for you, baby."
What he had was a small colored decal, the kind children get in bubble gum packages. When moistened and applied to the skin, it left a tattoo ... in this case, a number.
Brenda was Number Seven. The tattoo was placed on the inside of her thigh, right at the edge of her pubic hair. Normally it would be invisible, and could only be found by a determined search. "I think I get it," Don said, applying his on his thigh near the bulge of his testicles.
Back in the living room, they sipped cocktails and looked around at the other guests. Some were dancing already to music from the hi-fi. Others stood or sat in groups, talking and drinking, seemingly very casual and nonchalant.
Don took a quick inventory of the other males.
They came in all shapes and sizes, just like anyone else, except for one splendid specimen that made him draw in his breath and nudge Brenda.
"Will you look at that guy? Is he ever hung!"
The stranger was a handsome young man with broad shoulders and rippling muscles. Brenda couldn't take her eyes off the massive hunk of meat that hung between his legs. She noticed that he did not seem in the least self-conscious but that the other women glanced at him again and again, some lustfully and others apparently in fear.
Lita was trying to get the attention of the group. She struck a fork against a glass and the high piercing sound brought down the level of the conversation, as heads turned her way.
"Listen, everybody!" Her rather high but pleasant voice carried above the music. "I have a little surprise for you tonight ... unless you've already guessed it!" There was laughter and heads nodded. "Yes, the first time around ... but don't rush, we've got all night ... the first time around we're going to be matched by numbers. All you guys and gals, all you have to do is look around or under until you find the partner with the same number as yours. Okay?"
They all agreed.
"I wanted to have a whipped cream party," she went on, "but Bill reminded me of the cost of upholstery cleaning these days. But I think this will be fun, and I hope everybody cooperates!"
Nobody rushed. In fact, for all the effect Lita's announcement made, she might have been speaking Greek, except that a noticeable tension crept over the room. Laughter was pitched a bit higher, voices sounded louder, and the dancing couples seemed to cling a bit more sensuously. But the guests were friendly, and both Brenda and Don found themselves absorbed in different conversation groups.
Brenda was in no hurry, either. She needed a little time to absorb the shock of all these nude bodies and their casual acceptance. She was tall enough that she could look men almost in the eye, but she wondered about the effect it must have on Lita, gazing point blank at bare hairy chest or other women's uncovered breasts.
A tall man with a brown, well-trimmed beard seemed to have adopted her. He said his name was Mort. He kept her martini glass constantly filled and it wasn't long before her tension eased and she knew she was a little bit high, but happily so.
They heard laughter at the other end of the room, and turned to look. Some of the guests were ready to begin pairing up. It would have been possible, of course, for a man or woman simply to say what number was printed inside the thigh, but that would have spoiled the fun. Two of the men were checking every woman in turn, which meant getting her down on the floor with legs spread while they peered an unnecessarily long time. The hilarity grew as the search continued.
Mort seemed kind and attractive, with a slim, lean-hipped body. Brenda couldn't help wishing he were the male Number Seven, but she knew it wasn't likely.
"C'mon, Brenda," Bill said coming up behind her. "Join the fun! Don't you want to know who your next lover will be?"
"I'm in no hurry," she answered coolly.
"I'd have liked to cheat," he said cheerfully, "but Lita wouldn't let me. Look at your old man! He isn't wasting any time."
A third man had joined the pair of investigators, and it was Don.
"What a shame if he finds the right one and has to quit looking!"
More and more joined in and paired off. Most of them went to look for some dark corner in the bedrooms or family room, but a few of the more uninhibited simply climbed on the sofa or claimed a corner of the living room, out of the way of traffic.
Brenda began to wish the silly game had never been invented. It was one thing to receive, and accept, an invitation. In other circumstances, she and Mort would probably have stolen away to a quiet spot by now. He looked more attractive every minute, and she was completely aware of his nice masculine scent and the strength of the nude shoulder that brushed hers.
But standing here waiting to be claimed was embarrassing, although going searching for her matching number would have been worse.
Mort touched her arm.
"I don't suppose you're Number Eleven, are you?"
"No ... maybe we should cheat!"
But it was too late.
"Excuse me, I'm Terry"
It was the handsome young man with the huge cock.
"I'm Brenda Jamison and this is Mort."
"Hi! May I take a look at your number? I might get lucky!"
Her face flushed, but she raised a leg and propped her foot on a chair. Terry crawled underneath. Her leg burned where his fingers touched it, although he was quick and not vulgar about it.
"Number Seven! I am lucky, after all!"
They stood and talked and had another drink. She tried to keep her eyes on his face but it was impossible not to notice the gradual swelling of the huge instrument, rising from between his thighs. He could hardly move without its brushing against her or somebody else. Brenda didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"I suppose the bedrooms are all taken," Terry said, "but let's go look. Being around you is, well, you can see for yourself."
Hand in hand they tiptoed from one dim room to another, but as he had said, all were occupied with at least one couple, and some with two or three. But they were in luck, they got "seconds" on a bed in the children's room.
Brenda thought it must take some arranging to get the kids out of here for a whole weekend.
"God, I'm going to love making love to you," Terry said.
"How do you know? You haven't tried me yet," she answered, laughing.
"I'm a tit man, that's why! And I've been watching you ever since you came in the door. Watching these big beautiful boobs."
He squeezed one of her huge breasts, fondling it as if he really meant what he'd said. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.
She'd wondered if she'd be able to get excited over something as open and unromantic as a swap party. Now she knew.
He lowered his head and took a nipple in his mouth, supporting the weight of her breasts with both hands. His tongue swirled hotly in a spiral around the outside of one and then the other, leaving a trail of fire wherever it had touched her.
His big cock was pressed against her belly.
She couldn't resist it. She reached out eagerly and stroked it, loving the feel of the smooth, thick skin that moved over the rigid core. She felt the distended blue veins against her hand as she stroked slowly from the base to the head.
He was nibbling at her tits again and she moaned in the back of her throat as she moved her hand slowly over the shaft. It filled her hand completely and throbbed with a promise of its frightening power. The head was distended and swollen now, blood-engorged and dark red. Clear moisture oozed over her fingers as she grasped it. Grunting softly, still with a nipple between his teeth, he maneuvered her toward the bed. She felt the bed against the backs of her knees and let her body fall backward, while he rolled her farther onto it. He lay beside her, one hand heavy on her buttocks, the other stroking her glossy dark hair. "You're so beautiful," he said softly. "Are you glad too? Did you feel lucky that we had the same number?"
"Yes . .. yes." What else could she say? But the truth was, she was beginning to be glad.
He wasn't kidding when he said he was a tit man. He licked and rubbed and sucked until her nipples were swollen and red. Then his hand went between her legs and found the soft hair of her crotch and entwined his fingers in it. She moaned and writhed her hips.
Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as his fingers found the narrow opening and stroked it, caressing her clitoris and covering it with her own moisture scooped up from her slit. She felt that first localized tingle that told her she was getting hot. His fingers worked persistently, and she pushed forward against his hand. One meaty forefinger slid up, met with minor resistance, and pushed through into the warm depths of her. Her cunt seemed on fire as it accepted the invader and drowned it in her lubricating fluids.
God, she thought, if he could make her feel this good this soon, she was just as happy as she'd said she was!
"I'm glad you're a big woman," he whispered. "I hope it's all right ... that you can take my peter in there."
Brenda didn't know what to say. She'd only made love to three men in her life, for one thing. But she didn't think that the size of her body had much to do with the size of her vagina.
"I'm sure I can," she said, hoping it was true.
"Sometimes girls are scared but ... it should be okay if I'm slow and careful." He panted as he spoke. "And I will be, I promise you, you darling!"
Brenda had a moment to think, ironically, that they both had their fears. She was afraid she'd be dry, unready, that the circumstances would turn her off. He was afraid he'd scare her. And of course, she supposed, men really had the bigger problem. A woman can always fake it but there's no way to fake a hard-on.
He rolled back and forth over her, moaning, his body hot as if in fever. Something about him seemed very young to her, very sweet and boyish.
This was no pretense, no sophisticated faking; he was really as excited and hungry for her body as he seemed to be.
When he pulled his finger out with a wet pop she tensed, holding her breath. Maybe she was a little scared of that huge dick, after all! she thought.
He rose up on his knees and held the heavy organ in his hand, gliding it back and forth over her damp cunt and ever so gently insinuating the head of it between her labia. She drew in a breath, knowing her pussy was quaking avidly, wanting to be filled. At the same time in her mind was a picture of his enormous organ and she wasn't at all sure what the results might be.
Dipping his fingers in, holding the lips apart, he aimed and pushed the pulsating head, burying it in the first layer of moist pink flesh.
It felt big and blunt, as if it had been stopped, but he swayed back and forth and another inch slid in. Slowly, by keeping up the pressure, he got it in. She continued to lie still under him, yielding her body up to him, almost afraid to move. Her little whimperings and moanings told him of her pleasure.
Terry paused a moment as if to give her body time to adjust to the enormous invader. It filled her so completely that she was sure it would split her belly open and she ached to feel the full length of the rigid erection. It was easier after a moment, as the wetness of the passage helped her vaginal walls gradually open to accept him.
The warm, elastic-like sheath slipped wetly over his sensitive, naked flesh and she mewled and whimpered under him as he hit bottom. His hardened balls slapped stingingly against the cheeks of her ass. For a moment she twisted as if to escape but he thrust the full strength of his body behind the pushing pelvis, screwing her with a twisting motion. And, to her agonized delight, he didn't wait for the sudden pain from his entry to subside before he partially withdrew and pounded home again, harder.
The thought of her lying skewered under him, completely subjugated yet accepting the mighty power of his organ, gave Terry a heady sense of power. All too often women chased him and then, at the final moment, rejected him out of fear of his cock or fear of their own capabilities.
He ground his pelvis into the squirming, tactile flesh beneath him and she answered him thrust for thrust, her hot cunt clutching at his member when he withdrew and opening wide to meet its returning stroke. She strained her back and arched her loins, lifting a few inches off the rumpled sheet. She groaned ceaselessly under his pounding body, opening and closing her legs around his hips as she worked up and down in her newly discovered abandon. Her mouth gaped and saliva collected in the corners. Her head flailed from side to side, sending her long, dark hair flying.
"Oooh God, it's wonderful!" she mumbled in her passion-roughened voice. "Fuck me harder, harder!"
"I'm coming," she gasped suddenly. "I'm coming," she repeated, her mouth gaping and drooling in complete abandon.
Why in the world did I ever fear this swinging life? she asked herself. But any answer was drowned in the tide of hot spasms that rippled over her naked, bucking body.
The woman lay on her back, spread-eagled, her arms maintaining her balance while her legs were lifted aloft. Eager male hands held her ankles in the air, while other sets of hands pulled back the flesh of her thighs where it curved in toward her thick muff of pubic hair. Every man who searched for a matching number had run at least a finger over the goodies spread out for him, until her cunt was dripping and wide open. She'd started out laughing but now she began to moan and twist in passion.
Don felt a small relief that the number displayed on her squirming flesh did not match his. He was hot and ready to go but something held him back; he wasn't sure what it was.
He couldn't help wondering how Brenda was doing. He'd seen her leave the room with that big-cocked man and a small snake of jealousy uncoiled itself in the pit of his stomach.
"Can't you find anybody?" a voice said behind him as a soft hand trailed over his buttocks.
It was Lita, brushing close to him. Her small high breasts rubbed against his arm and he shuddered at the heat of her body.
"The hell with your game," he said roughly. "Let's fuck!"
"Why Don," she teased him, "you've gotten so aggressive."
He looked around the room. Everybody had paired up ... even the woman whose thighs he had just explored was walking away with another man. He and his hostess seemed the only two still unattached. Light burst into his brain.
"You! You're the one!"
"Number one. That's right!"
So she had arranged it, Don grinned. The mischievous devil! He was flattered to know she'd want him again so soon, particularly with all the men here to choose from. And he realized she was probably the one woman who could keep his mind off Brenda.
"Come on, Number One," she said, leading him to a dark corner. The thick carpet was piled high with pillows. It wasn't exactly private; a couple lying next to them were doing sixty-nine. He paused a moment to watch the curly blonde head bobbing up and down on the guy's erect dick, and to appreciate the skill with which the man held her thighs apart and darted his tongue in and out.
If he'd been hot before, that made him blazing. He turned to Lita, thrilled as before with her petite yet voluptuous body. The pink spheres of her breasts were cupped in her hands, inviting him to touch and kiss and admire the rosy nipples. He bent and suck each one as his hands roamed her slender body.
He pushed her down on the pillows and immediately went to her crotch. This was no time for the niceties of love-making, Don thought. He knew instinctively that she was as hot and reckless as he and he wanted to do something to her, something different that she'd remember always.
He spread her legs and all the treasures of her secret places were wide open to his view. Even in the dim light, he could see the bright pink lips of her cunt, already moistened, shining through the trimmed triangle of hair. He'd always meant to ask her why she kept it so obviously clipped, close and neat, but this was not the time for words.
In spite of her eager sexuality, her clit was still a small, unexcited bud. Flicking it with a finger, he watched it respond while the mouthlike orifice behind it opened hungrily. The half-moons of her buttocks gleamed pearl-like in the darkness, divided by the tight crease between them. He spread them apart with his hands, seeing the tiny anus nestling mysteriously and invitingly below the swelling, rosy lips.
Don began to find the sense of power he needed, the feeling that he was controlling his own destiny. Brenda's long denial had left him marred somehow, unsure of himself in spite of the events of the week. This was the night, he thought, to prove his manhood to Lita. He would tease this woman and torment her, and fuck her until she cried for mercy.
And he realized that, glad as he was to have drawn her as his partner, she had planned it that way. He was sick of being maneuvered and outwitted by women.
His lips crept slowly down her squirming thigh, pausing now and then at sensitive spots for a quick, wet caress. Groans of delight escaped from Lita's clenched lips as he reached the moist, ready slit and covered it with bites and kisses. When he put his mouth around the upstanding bud of her clit and sucked it hotly, he felt with pleasure the involuntary grinding of her hips.
Pulling her up by her round buttocks, he buried his face in the steaming crotch! His tongue thrust like a knife of fire down through her crease where it lingered, stabbing and probing at the tight asshole.
Abruptly he shoved her aside. "Get up and turn over."
He knew what she thought. He'd taken her dog-fashion only the other night, and she assumed the same thing would happen again.
And he was right, although he didn't know Lita's moment of disappointment. She was as excited as he, thrilled gut-deep with the erotic situation and all the passionate action around her. She too wanted to do something different and daring, and hoped that he would feel the same. But she kept her thoughts to herself and obeyed him.
Looking over her shoulder, she could see the huge, fleshy instrument poised over her ass. He was rubbing it with his hands, bringing it to its full, throbbing erection. When he hunched forward over her, parting her quivering buttocks, she moved to present her gaping maw to his hard cock. With satisfaction, she felt the spongy flesh push into her slit and her vaginal walls began working to retain it. She gasped with frustration when it was quickly withdrawn.
Lita couldn't believe what he was doing. Not Don, it couldn't be! she thought.
First his strong hands opened her buttocks, drawing the cheeks wide apart. She tried to hold them tensed together but the pressure of his thumbs inserted in the moist crevice was too great. They were cruelly stretched away from each other until she could feel the cool air rushing into the hot interior.
"Don! What are you doing? Please don't!"
Her pleading cry added to his satisfaction and he had a sense of rightness, as if finally everything was falling into place for him.
He knew the tiny opening was too tight, and he'd have to open it up somewhat.
She could feel the tip of his finger at the entrance to her rectum and she clenched the sphincter muscles tight in a desperate effort to stop the cruel penetration she knew was coming.
She could have cried out if she'd really wanted to, and been spared this. But the rules of the evening, her own rules, kept her from screaming for help. Her ass was not virginal; Bill had done this to her once or twice and she knew that after the initial pain would come exquisite pleasure. But the thought of the preliminary agony was almost more than she could take.
She relaxed slightly as the pain was not so great as she'd expected. Besides, he wouldn't go through with it, she thought, he wouldn't dare. She thought she had Don figured out and that he was a nice, gentle man who would always do the right thing, regardless of circumstances.
Then she jumped as she felt the extra pressure of another finger rammed unexpectedly alongside the first. This time she had to bite the back of her hand to keep from crying out. She tried to pull herself up on the pillows, away from him.
"Stop it! You're hurting me," she hissed through clenched teeth. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down her cheeks as the realization came to her that she couldn't escape him, not without making a fool of herself. She despised women who did but she didn't know if she were prepared to take this ultimate humiliation and surrender. And particularly from Don. She was the one who seduced him. She had taken the lead every time and she enjoyed that, but now he was taking over.
As suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out again. Then in again, in a fucking motion. With his palm planted firmly in the small of her back, he held her tight. The fucking fingers drove cruelly into her anal passage, expanding it mercilessly as she twisted and turned. The tight, narrow hole was being prepared for his coming assault.
The fingers slid out again, reluctantly, the elastic rim of her asshole clinging to them until they popped out with a slight sucking noise. He forced her legs wider with his knees, dropped his head to her buttocks and licked wetly at the crevice between. For one moment, to her temporary relief, he dipped his cock into her cunt, swirling it in the moist cavity and then rubbing the lubricating fluid around the anal opening. The tiny hole was slicked for the greater entry.
At this point Don was only vaguely conscious of where he was and of the panting, squirming bodies all around, him. His world had narrowed itself to the small space occupied by him and this lewd, tempting body.
"Kneel up!" he said and when she hesitated, he jerked her hips into a kneeling position. Her breasts pressed tightly against the pillows. With her ass high in the air, she was an open invitation to the cruel ravishment.
"You mustn't do this, Don! Please don't!"
No matter what she said, he was well aware that her distress could not be too great. She could have freed herself or caused a scene at any moment.
His hands grasped harshly at her hips, holding them steady in the air. She felt the head of his thick cock at the widened entry. She gritted her teeth and made up her mind not to scream, whatever happened.
His hands traveled down over her buttocks, his thumb pressing on either side of the small brown hole. She could feel the elastic muscle stretching as widely as he could pull it. Then she felt a probing between the thumbs. The touch was rubbery at first, not unpleasant until it grew into a hard, unresistable force.
"Oooohhh!" she gasped, biting on the pillow to still her cries. The tight, resisting ring was giving way before the blunt pressure and suddenly the tip popped inside with a jerk.
No matter how prepared she was, his next move caught her by surprise. She pulled away spasmodically but there was no escape as the blunt intrusion of his cock vibrated through every fiber of her being. The rigid flesh pushed her rubbery passage in waves of agony. It filled her backside as completely as if she were impaled on a wooden spit.
And then the coarse hair of his loins smacked heavily into the softness of her buttocks.
Don felt some easing of tension as he began to saw back and forth. It wasn't that different from a really tight cunt, he thought. And Lita's panting acceptance confirmed what he thought; this was not the first time she'd had her asshole reamed by some man's cock.
Her pain was lessening and she became aware of a new sensation, the slow beginning of erotic enjoyment. She was startled to realize that her body was moving backward to meet the thrust of his cock. From the shoulders down her tingling flesh was undulating with excitement. Her buttocks swung in tiny rotating circles, clasping tight to the invading rod. A tide of warmth swept up from her loins as she realized how completely he'd conquered her.
Feeling her renewal of desire, Don surged into her with greater power. He'd asserted himself, and she was loving it.
He wished he could see her face and he strained for a glimpse as she rolled her head back and forward on the pillows. Whenever he could see it, she was flushed red from the intensity of her effort, her eyes wide in concentration. She bucked and churned beneath him, trying not only to bring herself to orgasm but him too.
He rammed into her fast, hard and deep, his balls smacking wetly against her upturned ass. Feeling his muscles tense with the triumph of climax, he jogged forward with a mighty thrust that seared up her stretched anus like fire. Ignoring her shrill cry, for the first time genuinely unaware of anything but himself, he slammed in again and again, stretching the narrow hole past belief. He gasped and bent over her naked back, shivering and quaking, while his sperm shot deep into her asshole. When he reluctantly withdrew his deflated cock the thick, milky fluid spilled its warm wetness down her crease and thighs.
Remorse came over him suddenly and he pulled her into his arms. "Did you come too, honey?"
"Yes, I did, damn you!" But she chuckled as she swore at him and he knew he was forgiven for whatever hurt he had caused her.
At home alone with Brenda, he would have curled up and gone to sleep after such a strenuous workout. But although his body was depleted, at least for a time, Don's brain was far from ready to quit. The exercise had made him sober and dried out his mouth.
"Wow! How about a drink?" he muttered through dry lips.
Although most of the room was darkened, light glowed behind the bar. In the faint brightness he could see others who had, presumably, finished their "first round" and come to be revitalized by a fresh infusion of liquor.
"Martini?"
She made a face. "I'd better switch to Scotch. I still have to get the supper on the table."
"Not for my sake," he grinned. "I'd rather eat you."
They leaned against the bar, quietly satisfied.
"Did I hurt you?"
"You know you did, you bastard!"
He couldn't keep the grin of satisfaction off his face. He was no sadist but he had to admit he enjoyed dominating this girl. She'd played around with him, always leading the way, and it was his turn.
He looked through the dimness, searching for Brenda. Her height made her easy to spot as a rule, and he concluded she wasn't in the room. He was uneasy about her but after all, she wasn't exactly alone with that guy. If he gave her any trouble, all she had to do was shout.
He hoped that this evening would cure her coldness toward him and she'd be her old loving self again. On the other hand, he had to admit he hoped she didn't enjoy herself too much. He knew it was silly but the size of that guy's equipment made him jealous, and he'd be willing to bet every other man at the party felt the same way.
"I'd better go put some things in the oven," Lita said regretfully. "If everybody was as busy as we were, they'll have worked up some good appetites by now."
"Need some help?"
"No, thanks, darling. There's not much to do."
He decided to switch to Scotch himself and had just mixed a highball when Brenda appeared at his elbow. She looked sleekly beautiful and had a dreamy look on her face.
"Fix me one too, Don."
How's it going?" he asked, handing her the drink.
"Fine, fine . . . and you?"
"Okay." He knew his voice sounded surly but he didn't care.
"Something's bothering you. What happened, did you have ... well, some kind of problem?"
"Certainly not. I told you, it's okay."
She studied his face in the dim light. "Something is wrong. And I think you're angry and ... jealous. This was your own idea, you know. You wanted to bring me here."
"That's not the point." He knew he was a fool to start a quarrel here, but the sight of her canary-feathers smile irked him. "What I don't understand is how you've changed toward me. You're having a ball fucking other guys, but all I get a home is a good-night kiss."
"Oh Don, it won't be like that any more, don't you understand? I'll prove it to you . . . right now, if you want. Or we can go home and I'll show you. I love you, darling, don't you know that?"
He couldn't doubt the truth in her voice. He relaxed, satisfied now mentally as well as physically. Maybe the swapping had done it after all, loosened her up, gotten rid of Whatever devils were riding her.
He blinked and turned as another light came on and voices sounded at the doorway. Late arrivals. He looked with interest at the couple who, daringly, wore only coats over their nudity. Wow! he thought. If they had a flat tire on the way home, they'd be in the soup!
But he dug it, it was kicky. He dug it even more when the wife dropped her coat on the floor and he saw her fully. It wasn't the pretty face that caught his eye, though, or the luscious figure. She had painted herself with an artist's skill, her naked body gleaming white against the soft colors of the body-paint. Two long stalks of green stem grew from her pubic hair, twined around her body and burst into full bloom on each breast. Man, that was something else! Don thought.
Grinning, he turned to Brenda to share his appreciation. But she was blank-eyed and rapt, staring beyond the painted girl. He followed her gaze to the muscular, lean man in the doorway.
"Guy," Brenda murmured, her eyes glistening and her sharp tongue wetting her lips. "It's Guy."