Chapter 2
NEXT MORNING, PAM RECEIVED A SURPRISE visit from Maggie and Bev. The men had gone off to their various jobs, and, after allowing Pam a decent interval in which to wake up, the two girls dropped in for a cup of coffee.
Pam marveled at their recuperative powers, for they both looked fresh as daisies. She personally felt more like the last rose of summer. Yawning and stretching lazily, she said, 'You two are looking mighty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning. You must tell me your secret remedy sometime."
Maggie stirred her coffee, thoughtfully before answering. "Oh, I guess we've just built up a tolerance for that sort of thing," she said casually.
"Oh? Do you have that sort of party often, then?"
Bev chimed in this time, both she and Maggie watching Pam like hawks to see how she'd react to some cold, hard facts. "Well, you see, we've been! swapping spouses for months now."
Pam said, "I gathered as much last night. But telli me something. How in the world did this thing get started?"
Bev returned the floor to Maggie for this round. "Well, let's see. To begin with, we had all been married for about nine years, and the rut was getting deeper every day. You know how stale things can get, after all that time."
Pam, knowing only too well, nodded, and Maggie went on. "So, anyway, we were good friends. You might say we were living in each other's pockets, so to speak. One weekend, we went on a little vacation trip up north. We shared a cabin in order to save on expenses. That night, the oil burner went on the blink. My god, it was cold! All we had going for us was some wood for the fireplace, but that didn't last long."
She paused long enough to light a cigarette. "Well, to make a long story short, we decided to all share one bed for warmth. We piled on all the blankets we could find, and huddled together, soaking up all the body heat we could get." Turning to Bev, she asked, "I can't remember who started what, can you?"
Bev shook her head, dimpling prettily as she recalled the events of that night. "No, I can't. But suddenly it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. We decided to change partners, just for that one night."
Maggie pointed out the obvious. "And none of us froze, either."
"I see," said Pam. "And, ever since, you borrow a husband from each other the way you would a cup of sugar?"
They nodded, wondering if she was being sarcastic about it.
"I think it's a great idea! But don't either of you ever get jealous?"
Bev answered that one, putting it as delicately as she could. "Were you jealous of Jerry last night, when you and Bob were together?"
Pam answered quickly, before thinking about who was doing the asking. "No, I was too busy." Her face flushed when she remembered that she was speaking to Bob's wife.
"Oh, that's okay," said Bev. "That's what makes the idea work! You're both having fun, so you can't blame each other without coming in for your share of the blame. That way, nobody gets hurt."
"Yes, you have a point there," Pam admitted.
"Listen!" Maggie broke in excitedly. "Why don't we form a club of our own? I mean a real club, with a definite set of rules."
Pam seconded the motion, and they put their heads together to draw up a format. To begin with, they decided to alternate their meetings from one house to another. Whoever was to be hostess for the evening would have to think up some new way of choosing partners. And they all agreed to make an effort to bring in new members.
When the girls took their leave, they had decided to hold their first meeting at Maggie's house that same evening. Pam hurried through her chores, and the day's minor irritations didn't faze her at all. She had tasted the nectar of sin, and found it more heady than any liquor.
When Jerry came home, she told him about their ideas, and he seemed as pleased as she. A light-hearted feeling presided over dinner; even the children felt it. They were polite to one another, and Pam began to feel as though there was new hope for their family life.
She dawdled over dressing, much like a young girl getting ready for a heavy date. Jerry viewed the results and complimented her on her appearance.
As they crossed the lawn between their house and Maggie's, they were chatting away like two bosom buddies. Both of them were looking forward to the party, and at last they had something in common.
Maggie greeted them effusively, bubbling over with the surprise she had for them. "I've already found two new recruits!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Their names are Joan and Bill Wiley. Do you know them?"
Pam said, "I've met Joan. At a shower, I think."
"Well, anyway, they're not exactly hip to the rules yet, so I wanted to warn you not to give the show away."
"But, what if they don't go for it?" Jerry asked, sensibly enough.
"Oh, don't worry. When they see the rest of us getting in the groove, they'll go along, all right. Come on in and get acquainted with them."
They joined the others. Bob and Bev had arrived before them, and everyone was deep in conversation. Maggie announced, "Here are two more of our favorite people. Pam and Jerry, meet Joan and Bill."
Over drinks and under the guise of polite conversation, the club members sounded Bill and Joan out on their views, testing them to see how broad-minded they were. They tossed off some risqu' jokes, leading them on gradually. Joan and Bill never got to see what the bottom of their glasses looked like. Maggie saw to that.
By the time Maggie proposed playing a game, they were in the right frame of mind for it. The rules were similar to blind man's buff. The ladies all went into the bedroom to strip down to the raw, while the men were putting on blindfolds. To make things more interesting, the women rubbed oily, sweet-scented crŠme sachet all over their bodies.
When they emerged from the bedroom, they were as slippery as greased pigs, and just as difficult to hold onto. The men had already donned blindfolds, and the game began.
They groped around, searching with eager fingers for the elusive females, using the squeals and scuffling noises to tell them in which direction to head. Whoever each man happened to latch onto first was to be his partner for the night-even if she happened to be his own wife!
Jerry grabbed hold of Bev, catching her around the waist like a football tackle. Bev, abiding by the rules of the game, tried to get away, and she almost made it. Jerry's hands slid right down her curvaceous, swiveling hips, but he managed to catch her by one heel. He tore away the blindfold to see which prize he had won. When he saw who it was, he gave her a playful slap on the ass and told her, "Go wash off that gunk for god's sake.
She padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she stood under the misty spray, she remembered what Maggie had whispered to her last night. "Jerry--likes to be treated like a naughty little boy. Yeah, I know. A great big guy like that! But, believe me, it's well worth the effort. When he gets hot enough, just take a good look at his pecker. You'll flip!"
Bev was eager to see for herself what Maggie had been raving about, so she got out of the shower and called to him. She left the shower on and hid behind the bathroom door, still dripping wet.
Jerry stuck his head in the bathroom, thinking she might have slipped in the shower. Not finding her, he was just about to close the door when he felt it pulled out of his grasp.
"Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly," she quoted ominously. "And, speaking of flies..." Expertly, she unzipped his and proceeded to strip him down to his birthday suit, then pushed him into the shower.
It had all happened so fast that Jerry was stunned to find himself under the sting of the spray. But the warm water soothed him, and he relaxed as Bev made a mitt out of the washcloth and lathered him up. She rubbed him lightly, all over his body, turning the scrub down into more of a massage treatment.
"Now then, dear. Give me your little peter," she said, in a firm tone.
He held it out, mesmerized by the spell of the waterfall and her motherly commands. She worked the cloth gently over and around his swelling penis, occasionally dipping down between his legs to lather his tautening balls. As she did so, he pushed his hard belly out, becoming more excited by the minute. Bev's eyes opened wide as his tool, like Pinocchio's nose, grew and grew.
She waited until his excitement was at its peak before turning off the spigot; then she literally raped him, right on the bathroom floor. Fortunately for him, the floor was covered with thick nylon carpeting, or he would have been a mass of bruises from the pounding he was taking.
As she pumped up and down on him, he closed his eyes, reliving the dream of his mother that was buried deep in his subconscious. He was so absorbed in these erotic visions that he didn't see or hear Bert opening the door.
Bev did, though, and gave him a lewd wink as she continued working over Jerry. Bert watched the scene a while, licking his lips now and again. Then he withdrew to find his own partner, forgetting all about his original mission.
The game of catch was over by now, and nobody seemed concerned about the missing couple still humping away in the bathroom. Bert had tagged Pam, Bob ended up with Maggie, and Joan and Bill found each other. They wouldn't admit it to the others, but they had started the game with this end in mind. Even though they were in favor of a little variety, they still felt a little bashful about changing sex partners.
The others, sensing how they felt, allotted one of the bedrooms to them, leaving only one other one unoccupied. Bob gave voice to what they were all thinking. "Well, I don't know how the rest of you feel about it, but I'm voting that we share the other bedroom. I'm not about to make my pitch on the living room sofa. They all agreed to this, deciding to make the most of it.
Pam, squeezed in between the men, said, "Too bad this bed isn't king-size."
Maggie's voice, somewhat muffled by Bob's embrace, said, "Well, come around here a minute, and I'll show you something that is!"
Bob gave her a crack on the butt, saying, "Quit making with the wisecracks, Maggie, and do something to earn it!"
Anything else she might have said was silenced effectively.
Curiosity got the better of Bob when he didn't hear anything going on from the other side of the bed. "How you doing, old buddy?" he called.
"Okay, I guess," Bert panted. "If I ever get the damn thing in, that is. This girl is as tight as a virgin."
"Yeah, I noticed that last night," Bob replied. "She is?" Maggie's ears perked up at this unexpected bit of news.
Pam was getting sick and tired of being discussed as though she wasn't even in the room. "Say! Do you have to get so personal?" she snapped.
They all laughed at that one. "Will somebody please explain to me how you can screw a girl without getting personal about it?" Bert asked the others.
Pam was really angry now, and tried to push him away. "Okay, love. I'll shut up and tend to the business at hand," he said, soothing her with deft caresses. He treated her more kindly after that, building up her desire by degrees.
Of course, Maggie knew what her problem was, having sampled Jerry's brand of lovemaking the previous night. The poor kid probably didn't get any kick out of top-riding. Pam would probably enjoy it more standing on her head, Maggie thought, just before Bob raised her legs and rammed it to her. She straddled his waist and dug her heels into his back, forgetting all about Pam during the frenzy that followed.
Bert now had his head between Pam's legs, and she went wild with desire as he tongued her expertly. She had never experienced this sensation before, and it left her weak and helpless. Her fingers clutched the bedclothes as his tongue sent flames of passion shooting through her from all directions. It was a curious mixture of agony and pleasure, and she wasn't sure if she wanted it to stop or go on forever.
Suddenly, it was gone, to be replaced by another, more familiar sensation. Bert's cock slid into her easily now, and she made the adjustment, straining to meet him. Locked in a tight embrace, neither of them were aware of the other couple, now finished, who were watching the mating take place.
Speaking quietly, Bob poked Maggie in the ribs and asked, "Who are you betting on to finish first?"
"Oh, I'd say it's going to be a dead heat, wouldn't you?"
Bob stroked her soft curves absent-mindedly for awhile, his thoughts elsewhere for the moment. Then he pulled her to her feet. "Come on! Let's leave them to it and find ourselves a drink. I feel as dry as a bone."
"Humph! Look who was just bitching about wisecracks," Maggie snorted, getting even with him for his earlier complaint.
"Come on, will you?" he urged. She had both feet planted firmly on the floor, reluctant to leave. He had to give a firm yank before she yielded.
Bert and Pam were hovering on the brink of fulfillment, hammering away at one another in unison. Their bellies slapped together, sounding like hands clapping from the sidelines. Pam raised her buttocks off the bed, as though about to engage in a bicycling exercise, and held the position, allowing her to feel the full length of Bert's dip-stick. He took full advantage of the position, ramming it in hard and fast, his blood was pounding with desire.
After only a few minutes of that stepped-up pace, their bodies met in a final, shuddering impact that shook the bed with its force. They collapsed weakly in each other's arms and were forced to remain that way, gasping for breath.
When their senses came alive once again, they discovered a mutual thirst, so they followed in the wake of the others. They entered the room just in time to catch the gist of Bob's monologue.
"Of course, we all knew she had hot pants, but up until then, she'd done most of her screwing after office hours. But, on this particular day, she was acting as though somebody had slipped her a good dose of Spanish fly. She couldn't keep her hands to herself. And, man, was that broad stacked! Just looking at her was enough to make any guy horny, and when she started grabbing every pecker in sight, we decided something should be done about it. So, some joker stashed her in the men's head, and we all took turns banging her. I tell you, I never saw anything like it! There were at least ten of us, and she still wasn't satisfied. Of course, they carted her off to the booby hatch the next day, completely off her rocker. But I'll bet she went with a smile on her face!"
"Why, Bob Redding!" Bev said indignantly. "I call that dirty pool."
"Why? Don't tell me you're jealous, old girl."
"You're damn right I am! I thought this was supposed to be a fair share deal, and now you're one up on me.
"I had no idea that you were keeping such good track of the score," he chided her. "I guess you're stuck with seducing the milkman, then; or, better yet, old Mr. Perkins." He was referring to an old tramp who lived on the outskirts of town and made his living by redeeming empty soda bottles that had been thrown out along the road.
The gang whooped with laughter.
Bev said, "Well, don't think I wouldn't give the old geezer a tumble just to get even with you!"
"Okay, you two. Break it up and help me think up a new game," Maggie pleaded. "Anybody got any suggestions?"
Surprisingly enough, Joan came up with a doozy. "Why don't we put the blindfolds on and see if we can identify our husbands by touch?"
"Say, that's a swell idea," Bev said, beaming her approval. She took Pam aside and whispered in her ear, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to choose whoever has the biggest cock. And I hope to hell it doesn't turn out to be Bob!"
The men helped them tie the blindfolds, making sure that nobody could peek. Then they shuffled around a good deal, trying to throw the girls off the track. Finally they managed to form a fairly straight line, maintaining a strict silence all the while in order not to disclose their positions.
The girls drew straws for the honor of having first chance at this strange assembly line. Lady Luck must have been riding on Bev's shoulders that night, for she got the longest one. She hoped it was symbolic of things to come.
She started making her way down the line, testing and squeezing as she went, much in the manner of a woman shopper examining the fruit at a supermarket. Now and then, she lingered over a particular goody, as though about to make a decision. But she reached the end of the line, still deep in thought.
"For God's sake, Bev!" Maggie called impatiently. "Haven't you made up your mind yet?"
"Well, some of them were soft as marshmallows when I started out," she complained. "So, to be fair, I think I should get another chance."
The girls groaned over this delay. "Well, get on with it, then. And, remember, this is your last chance!" Maggie decreed.
Bev retraced her steps to begin her fingering exercise all over again. The array of erections was more to her liking this time, and she unerringly chose Bill, who was the dark horse entry in this competition. She was allowed to remove her blindfold, but not to disclose the name of her partner, which would have spoiled the element of surprise for the others. They retired to a quiet corner to watch Joan try her luck.
She started out timidly enough, rather embarrassed at the idea of feeling strange men's tools. But she soon got into the spirit of the game and managed to overcome her shyness. She tugged at Bert's handle to indicate her choice, causing a ripple of laughter from the male bystanders.
Pam went next, with only two choices left. Her indecision showed on her face as she veered back and forth between Bob and Jerry. Then, as though something familiar warned her off, she made a snap decision and chase Bob.
Jerry choked down a flash of anger when she removed her blindfold and he saw the relief in her eyes. It was gone in a moment, and instead she threw a guilty look in his direction. Deliberately, he turned his back on her and went over to claim Maggie. "Whew!" He mopped at his forehead with an exaggerated gesture. "That was a close call."
His words came through loud and clear, but Pam pretended not to hear. Knowing full well how a thing like that could boomerang-you hurl me, so I'll hurt you-she bit back an angry retort and let the matter drop.
Bill and Joan seemed happy enough with their respective partners, although neither could resist glancing at the other once in a while to see how the other was taking it.
But, as Bev hsd pointed out, who could object? It was like having your cake and eating it too. The whole group was firmly convinced that there would be no need for marriage counselors if every bored couple would follow their example.
Certainly, there was no sigh of discord in that room as the club members settled down to the business at hand-nor any privacy, either. They made wild, uninhibited love on the tufted carpeting, and all managed to get a splendid bird's-eye view of each other in action.
When the orgy was over and the time of departure had arrived, they all agreed that it had been quite a satisfying evening. Pam and Jerry walked home, the silence between them stiff and formal, as if they had just met on a blind date. "Tomorrow night is our turn to have them over, remember," she reminded him. "Off-hand, I can't think of anything to do that could top what we did at Maggie's party, can you?"
The grunt that Jerry gave was noncommittal, but Pam went on talking, determined to break down the wall between them. "Swapping's really becoming quite a status symbol, you know."
"Mm-hmm."
She gave up after that.