Chapter 7
Following her eminently satisfying sandwich-fuck, and after a few minutes spent chatting about orgies, the "beach," and other related matters, Rhonda returned to the summer home she was sharing with the seven other swingers.
Dave and Henry, remembering only after the sizzling screwing that they still needed food for their upcoming sex party, started tramping back into Southampton with hopes of getting a lift along the way.
Upon her arrival at the Waincotts' house, Rhonda was greeted by Claudine Keller and Barbara Barnet, who were enjoying a moment of relaxation and a refreshing iced tea in the sandy backyard. The blonde, blue-eyed Barbara, clad in her red and white bikini, was tanning her lush body on a chaise lounge. Beautiful, raven-tressed Claudine was sitting in a garden chair.
"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Talbot," Barbara grinned. "Claudine and I were just talking about you, honey."
Rhonda smiled. "I know, my ears were ringing."
"Ha! Mine only ring when I'm getting laid. Why don't you pull up a chair and tell us all about your cultural expedition. How did it go at the art gallery, hon? Meet any dashing, debonair artists?"
Rhonda chuckled. "No, not exactly," she said, pulling a canvas chair over to where Claudine was sitting and then settling herself into it.
"You look a little, oh, I don't know, rumpled, I guess," Claudine said, who was fetchingly attired in a bright blue halter and orange hot pants.
Rhonda grinned but didn't speak.
"Rumpled? You're much too polite, Claudine. Mrs. Talbot looks like she's been banged by half a dozen tanned and handsome beach boys. I think she's been pooped by a hell of a lot of young studly cocks."
Mrs. Barnet grinned.
"Well," persisted Mrs. Barnet.
"You're not too far off," Mrs. Barnet," Rhonda said, adding a broad wink to the smile she directed at her friend and fellow swapper.
Barbara's eyes widened and her eyebrows arched. "You're kidding, honey. Did you really get-"
"Hey, where are all the others?" Rhonda interrupted.
"They're occupied," was Claudine's answer. She smiled softly. The lush redhead nodded in understanding.
"Oh, to heck with the others," Barbara said, her interest in Rhonda's experience growing by leaps and bounds. "Hurry up and give us all the juicy details. Who was he? Or should I say, who were they?"
"Oh, Babs," Rhonda said, "it wasn't such a big deal. On my way into Southhampton I picked up a couple of kids and, well, one thing led to another and-"
"Uh huh. Now I wonder who did the leading honey. And besides, what are you doin' messing around with kids? You going to tell Brian about your little adventure?"
"Boy, aren't we full of questions today," Rhonda smiled. "What did you do, Claudine? Wind Babs up to run all day?"
"Very funny, Mrs. Talbot," Barbara smirked. "Now come on, out with all the interesting data. Where did you lay these kids?"
Rhonda perked up. "Well, that's something I do want to talk to you about-you and the other members of our little group. I think I've found a way to participate in a really grand orgy without much fear of being spied upon."
"Hey, that sounds even more interesting than your getting laid by a pair of kids," Barbara said. "But first things first. Tell us what these two were like. They were teenagers, I guess."
Rhonda grinned and shook her head. "You know, Babs, you're acting like a female who hasn't had a stiff prick in weeks. Or maybe that isn't iced tea you're drinking."
"Come on, Rhonda," Barbara pleaded.
"All right, I'll tell it like it was, Mrs. Barnet. I picked up these two teenagers, Dave Maxwell and Henry Jackson, and while driving into town we started a conversation. They mentioned a wild sex party they were planning at this secluded stretch of beach they discovered, and then, well, before long I was turning the car around and we were heading for the beach."
"The beach? What beach?"
"That's what the kids call this particular section of beach-the isolated area where they intend to have orgies."
"Not very original, is it?" Barbara asked, frowning.
"What isn't original? Having orgies."
"Calling the beach the 'beach,' I mean," was Barbara's reply.
"Well, they're just teenagers," Claudine interjected.
"I don't see what this has to do with anything," Rhonda said. "Now do you want to hear the rest or should. ... "
"Let's have it, honey. I'm all ears."
"You mean you're all pussy," Rhonda cracked. "Anyway, we drove to the 'beach' and then Dave and Henry gave me a fast guided tour. Then we, mmm, and did we ever!"
"Then you gave the teenagers a guided tour of your body, huh?"
Rhonda grinned. "They didn't require much guidance, Babs. Dave and Henry know their way around pretty good."
"You-you screwed them on the beach?" Claudine asked, finding the idea rather hard to believe. "Out in the open, naked?"
"Out in the open, Claudine. It was fun, too. They both fucked me at the same time."
Barbara grinned. "In the ass and cunt, right?"
"Yep. I got myself a royal reaming, hon. Mr. Maxwell took care of my vagina and Mr. Jackson screwed my fanny with his nice big black cock."
"Black cock? One of the kids was black?"
"Sure, why not? Haven't you ever gotten screwed by a black, Mrs. Barnet?" Rhonda asked, a wry smile on her beautiful face.
"Believe it or not," Barbara replied, "I've never had the pleasury of a black bone. Guess it was good, huh?"
"Good? It was great!"
"But doesn't it-" Claudine began, then faltered. "I mean it must be very painful to be penetrated by two cocks at the same time. I've never even been. ... " she let her voice trail off.
"You've never been fucked in the ass, Claudine?" Barbara asked, the expression on her face suggesting that the French female's sexual education had been lacking in fundamentals.
"No, never. James has wanted to do that thing to me for a long time, but I won't let him. I think it's awfully perverted."
"Like hell it is," Barbara said. "It's heavenly, that's what a good rectum reaming is."
Rhonda looked at Claudine and smiled. "I'm sure that before the summer is out you'll change your mind about anal intercourse. There's very little real pain involved, you know. I'm just a bit sore now, that's all."
"Ohh, think of it," Barbara sighed, leaning back in the lounge, "a thrilling fuck by two healthy young men. It's been ages since I've been sandwiched between two thick pricks."
Rhonda grinned. "Well, I'm sure all you have to do is say the word and somebody will come to your rescue. I'm sure Claudine's husband would enjoy plunging his big beauty up your backside. And while Jim is reaming your rear, perhaps Brian could work on your cunt."
"Yes, it sounds just delicious. Tonight I'm going to have me a double dicking. Mmmmm, I can hardly wait."
"Well, can you hold on long enough for me to tell you about this piece of property that's apparently ideal for orgies?"
"What?" Barbara said, the image she had conjured up of herself and two males passionately entwined in a three-way screw fading from her mind.
"I'm talking about the desolate area the kids call the 'beach,' Mrs. Barnet," Rhonda answered, a touch of impatience in her voice. "The boys suggested that we use this out-of-the-way spot for our sex parties, and from what I could see of it-"
"Which wasn't a helluva lot, honey," Barbara interrupted. "I mean, you were on your back all the time. And if you weren't on your back, neither were you in a position to properly canvass the area."
"Oh, Babs," the redhead groaned. "You're throwing cold water on the whole thing even before I've had a chance to-"
"Okay, I'm sorry. So you think we can have a real wing-ding of an orgy on this so-called 'beach,' huh?"
"Yes, I do. You know how I've always wanted to participate in a real wild, full-scale Roman-type orgy. Well, Dave and Henry told me that we could use their spot whenever we wanted, and that they and their teen-age friends would join us if we so desired."
Barbara frowned. "You think it was wise telling these kids that we're wife-swappers? Teenagers sometimes have big mouths, you know."
"Oh, these kids are all right, Babs," Rhonda assured her friend. "Look, they're swingers just like we are. I thought it was nice of them to offer us the use of this secluded spot."
"But that's just the point, hon," the blonde said, pushing herself up off the chaise lounge and swinging her legs over the side so that she was now sitting. "Just how secluded is this place? We have enough to do keeping out of George Hardington's way, and the last thing we need is some prudish old dame spying on us and then running to the city fathers. And who knows, could be that Hardington owns this particular piece of choice real estate."
"Oh Babs," Rhonda again groaned. "He doesn't own anything."
"I'm not sure I understand this," Claudine interjected. "I mean, why is it so important that we make love outdoors? We have this large house with its two bedrooms and-"
"It would be fun, Claudine," Rhonda argued, her voice rising a trifle as she tried to make her point. "Sure, we don't have to have a big sex party on the sand, under the stars, but I think it would be just super. It's something I've always wanted, that's all."
Barbara smiled. "And what Rhonda wants, Rhonda gets."
The luscious redhead shrugged. "I guess not. At least not this time. It's obvious that the two of you are less than luke warm to the whole idea, so we'll just forget about it.
There was a moment of silence.
Barbara started to speak.
"The idea of a super-duper orgy with, how many kids would be joining us, Rhonda?"
"Dave said that about twenty kids would be there all during the summer. A few more are expected, but they won't be staying for longer than a few weeks."
"All right, twenty or more kids. There are eight of us, so that means all told they'll be somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty people frolicking in the nude, screwing one another senseless under the twinkling summer stars, if you will. Now this I like. What disturbs me is the possibility that we'll find ourselves, bare-assed naked, being led to the town jail by a few civic-minded citizens."
"That would never happen, Babs," Rhonda sighed.
"But how can you be so positive, honey? Where is the written guarantee that says thirty nude individuals can romp on the sand and screw up a storm some summer night without fear of being caught? I mean, it would be a helluva thing to be fucking some curly-headed kid and all of a sudden look up and see a policeman."
"Barbara, you're being plain silly," was Rhonda's retort. "The possibility of us being seen or heard by anyone who would file a complaint is very, very remote."
"You say," Barbara countered, "and remember too that our husbands have reputations to protect. How would Brian explain to his students that he was jailed for participating in a wild orgy? Hell, he'd be fucking girls who are the same age as those he's teaching."
"It strikes me as being very dangerous," said Claudine, who was trying to follow the argument and not allow her mind to dwell on her husband and Judy Allen. She knew they were together at the moment, having last seen them walking hand in hand down to the beach. Was he fucking her in the water, she wondered?
"All right, then. I promise not to pursue the matter any further," Rhonda said. Pushing herself up out of the canvas chair, she added, "I think I'll change into my swimsuit and go for a swim. Either of you two care to join me?"
"Now you're angry," Barbara said, smiling softly at her friend.
Rhonda shook her head. "Of course not. Why should I be angry, Barbara? I just think your fears are groundless, that's all. Who knows, maybe we can find another spot for our outdoor orgy."
"Orgy? Did I hear someone say the magic word?"
Rhonda, Claudine, and Barbara turned in the direction of the voice, small smiles lighting their faces when they saw Paul Allen and Brian Talbot.
"And for saying the magic word," Brian added, grinning, "the lucky gal wins a good screwing."
"Orgy, orgy, orgy!" Barbara chanted.
Brian searched around and found still another canvas chair and dragged it over to where his wife was sitting. Paul took a seat on the chaise lounge next to Barbara.
"Okay, I'm sorry. So you think we can have a real wing-ding of an orgy on this
Rhonda grinned at her husband. "What art gallery?"
Unable to contain herself, Barbara burst in and informed Brian that his wife had been boffed by a pair of teenagers. This brought a loud laugh from Paul and Brian, who winked at each other like comrades acknowledging the completion of a recent mission.
Barbara caught the winks and said, "I think I smell a rat here, ladies. The boys are keeping something from us."
Paul smiled. "Now what makes you think that, Babs?"
"Your silly smiles, for one thing," the curvaceous blonde replied. "By the way, have either of you seen my husband lately?"
Again, Paul and Brian looked at each other.
"Well, have you?" Barbara asked again.
"When we last saw Chris," Brian began, "he was tossing a big beach ball to Judy. He decided to keep her company while-" he left the thought unfinished and glanced at Claudine.
What the hell was going on here, the raven-tressed, French female wondered. More to the point, where was her husband?
"Well, go on, Paul," Barbara urged, nonchalantly dropping her right hand into the man's lap and patting the small bulge in his swim trunks. "How come my handsome hubby had to keep Judy company?"
"Because Jim wanted to keep somebody else company," Brian said, his grin broad.
"Oh, stop this foolishness," Rhonda smiled. "Quit talking in circles and tell us what's going on, or what went on."
"Okay, we'll level with you," Paul said. "Right about now, Mr. Barnet is probably humping Mrs. Allen and Mr. Keller is throwing the meat to Susie Jones."
Claudine frowned. "Who is Susie Jones?" she asked, reluctantly admitting to herself that the idea of yet another female sharing Jim disturbed her not a little.
"Yes, indeed," Barbara grinned. "Who is this Susie character?"
"All right, twenty or more kids. There are eight of us, so that means all told there'll little minx I've ever come across. And a damn pretty kid she is, too."
"Kid?" Rhonda exclaimed. "You too, darling? You mean, while I was being banged by my hitchhikers, you were-"
"Uh huh," Brian grunted. "Paul and I met Susie on the beach and no sooner had we introduced ourselves than she was leading us behind a sand dune and peeling out of her bikini."
"And what a build on that blonde babe," Paul grinned. "Now I can understand why you enjoy teaching, Brian. Man, I wouldn't mind spending every day flirting with pretty nymphets like Miss Jones."
"And my husband is with her now?" Claudine asked.
Paul nodded. "Yep, that he is. And if her performance with Brian and myself is any indicator, little old Susie is probably going bananas over Jim's big whang."
Rhonda laughed. "Well, how 'bout that, honey? Today we both got ourselves laid by a teenager."
Brian reached over and squeezed his beautiful wife's knee. Smiling, he said, "Yeah, but you're one up on me."
"But that can be remedied," Rhonda said quickly, shooting Barbara a quick smile.
"Really? Tell me more, my luscious mate."
The ravishing redhead launched into an explanation of that area the teenagers had named the 'beach,' in an excited voice telling Paul and her husband all that she had told Claudine and Barbara earlier when trying to convince the females of the area's suitability for outdoor orgies.
But by the time she finished, there was a faint frown on her lovely face. It was most apparent that the men, like the women, were not too keen on the idea of sexing it up in the open.
"Mmm, sounds a bit risky to me," Paul said, as he placed a hand on Barbara's right boob and squeezed tenderly. "Maybe these kids like to live dangerously, but as for me-"
"As for you? Look at yourself right now, Paul. There you are in broad daylight playing with Barbara's breasts. Now suppose that old grouch Hardington is watching the whole business through binoculars. That would be. ... "
"No, that's different, baby," Brian interrupted his wife. "This is our property, at least for the summer, anyway. Messing around on property that we've rented is one thing, screwing one another on the beach, having a wild orgy, is something else altogether."
"True, very true," Paul added. "The key word here is privacy. I'd love to participate in the kind of mass fucking that Rhonda speaks of, but I don't relish the idea of being hauled into jail for disturbing the peace."
"That's exactly what I said earlier," Barbara said. "The idea of an orgy with twenty or more teenagers is certainly appealing, but I don't want to pay for it with a stiff fine and/or a night in jail."
Rhonda emitted a groan of despair. Again, she pushed herself out of her chair, informing the others that since she had struck out for a second time, she was going to seek solace in a swim.
"I think I'll tag along, Rhonda," Claudine said. "That is, if you don't mind."
"Of course not," Rhonda smiled. "Want to check up on that good-looking hubby of yours, huh?"
Claudine smiled but didn't speak.
"Have fun," Brian called out, watching with Paul and Barbara as the two women started off in the direction of the beach.
"And check all the sand dunes," Paul added in a loud voice, his suggestion intended for the stunning French female.
No sooner had Rhonda and Claudine left than Brian, Paul, and the blonde Barbara Barnet fell into a lively discussion about orgies in general and the redhead's proposal that they stage one on the 'beach.' All agreed that a wild and woolly fucking fest would add considerably to their enjoyment of another summer spent swapping. Yet, they dreaded the possibility of bringing the law down upon their heads.
"You said it before, Paul," Brian smiled at his friend. "Of real importance here is the matter of privacy. If only we could find a truly ideal place to stage the orgy, one that afforded us the protection against detection, then I'd be the first to undress."
"And I'd be the second," Barbara grinned.
Seemingly lost in thought, Paul Allen said nothing for a number of long seconds. Then suddenly, he started to smile.
"Does Mr. Allen have a solution?" a grinning Barbara asked, her hand still wrapped around the bulge in Paul's swim trunks.
"Maybe, just maybe," was Paul's softly-voiced reply. He looked over at Brian. "Remember who we saw on the beach this morning just before bumping into Susie?" he asked.
Brian nodded. "Sure. Hardington and another guy-some thin, mousy-looking character."
"Right. And what were they up to? I mean, where were they headed when we spotted them?"
Brian thought for a few seconds. "Hell, to take a swim, I guess. I mean, they were walking toward the water."
"True enough," Paul said. "But I don't think the ocean was their original destination. I think seeing us on the beach made them nervous and caused them to change direction quickly."
Rhonda laughed. "Well, how 'bout that, honey? Today we both got ourselves laid by a Hardington and his friend?"
A smile began spreading over Paul's face. "I guess you didn't see that they were holding hands. They released each other the second they realized we were present, but I saw them strolling across the sand, hand in hand, on their way to a large sand dune."
Barbara almost choked on the iced tea she had just put into her mouth. After swallowing hard, she said, "Are you saying that George Hardington is a homosexual, Paul?"
Paul nodded. "That I am, baby. I'd be willing to bet on it. I was never able to lay my finger on any concrete proof, but last summer I began suspecting our number one enemy of preferring the company of males to females. Remember the few parties he hosted last year, Brian? Only males attended, right?"
"Yes, of course. You're absolutely right, Paul. Now why didn't I put one and one together and reach the conclusion you reached?"
"I remember now, too," Barbara said. "We used to see all those men milling about Hardington's place. They never really did anything, though. I mean, there was no kissing or any of that stuff. And they were always fully dressed."
"And they're all queerer than a three dollar bill," Paul smiled.
Barbara shook her head from side to side. "Hey, if that isn't something. To think that the guy causing us headaches with his constant snooping is in fact a homosexual. Wait until I tell the girls."
"Yeah, it's certainly interesting," Brian said. "But what has Hardington's homosexuality have to do with our finding a good spot for a screwing party?"
"Blackmail!" Barbara exclaimed. "Paul is thinking of blackmailing the old boy."
"But for what purpose?"
Unable to come up with an answer, Barbara turned to Paul and asked, "Why blackmail, Paul?"
"You know, I haven't given the idea of blackmail much consideration, Babs. But it's not a bad thought at all. Perhaps by threatening to expose his homosexuality we can bring Mr. Hardington into line. He might then be very willing to allow us to hold our grand orgy on his property."
"Yes, of course," Barbara chirped. "He's got enough property to house a three-ring circus. It would be ideal, really. No one would dare bother with the very wealthy George Hardington. We would be assured the privacy and safety we needed."
Brian nodded his agreement. "But you said you had something else in mind, Paul. What was it?"
Paul grinned. "Well, before Babs mentioned blackmail, I was thinking in terms of a program of persuasion."
"You mean, just walking up to him and asking to use his estate for an orgy?" Barbara asked.
"Not exactly. I thought we might punctuate our request with a little female pulchritude. That is, if you and the other girls are willing to lend your pussies to the cause. Chances are that if the four of you paid a little visit to Mr. Hardington, pretending a need for his cock, of course, we'd have him eating out of our hands."
Brian frowned. "Hey buddy, you just finished making us realize that Hardington was queer. A stunt like that would never work with a homo. He'd laugh in the girls' faces."
"Oh, I don't know about that, Brian. Once our wives give the old bird a taste of heterosexual love, he might just begin realizing what he's been missing all these years. In any event, I think it's worth a try. I mean, a seduction by four beautiful females coupled with a threat of exposure might turn the trick."
Brian shrugged. "Well, like you say, I guess it's worth a try. It certainly can't do any harm."
The two men looked at Barbara.
"Sure, why not?" the beautiful blonde said. "I'm sure the other girls will go along. The seduction of that old goat might turn out to be more fun than the orgy. Although like Brian, I wonder if it's possible to turn a homo into a cunt-crazy satyr overnight."
Paul grinned. "It's not necessary to turn him into a raving sex nut, Babs. Just work him over until it dawns on him that he's lived a wasted life. And if he should resist your considerable charms, we can always fall back on the blackmail bit. It'll be our ace in the hole, so to speak."
"Gee, I'm getting excited already," Barbara grinned. "Tonight when we're all together, we'll set everything up."
Brian grinned. "You know something, Paul, I think Barbara, Judy, Claudine, and Rhonda are going to eat Mr. Hardington alive."
"Oh, he'll be eaten, that's for sure," Barbara smiled. "Among other things, of course."
"Wait until he sets his beady old eyes on Rhonda's creamy ass," Paul said. "If he doesn't find plowing her rectum more fun than banging another guy's tail, I'll go over there myself and suck his cock."
"Mmmmm, I'm just wondering," Barbara purred.
"About what, baby?"
"About the size of the old guy's cock."
Paul joined Brian in a bout with laughter.
". . .and so, after awhile you become accustomed to having a hard prick shoved up your backside," Rhonda was saying, trying to explain to Claudine the delights of anal intercourse as they tramped over the sand on their way to the water.
"It must hurt the first time, though," Claudine argued. "I mean, it's not natural to be screwed in the behind."
"It's not all that painful the first time, honey. A little uncomfortable, maybe. But if your partner is considerate and takes his time, you'll find the initial experience most pleasant. And the more often you're fucked in the fanny, the more you'll appreciate it. Believe me, after your ass has been reamed a few times, you'll wonder why you hesitated experimenting.
"Maybe, but still-"
"Come on, Claudine," Rhonda urged. "Loosen up a little and start enjoying the summer. Life is so short as it is, baby. We owe it to ourselves to take every moment and make the most of it. That's why I didn't hesitate when the opportunity to get laid popped up this morning. I couldn't see denying myself the pleasure of two virile young men. Why should I?"
Claudine sighed. "Well, I guess I've got an awful lot to learn about ... shit, what was that?! "
An unholy shriek of lust suddenly streaked through the air, causing both Claudine and Rhonda to jump and turn immediately in the direction from whence the bestial noise had come.
"Sounds like an unwilling cow being banged by a bull," the redheaded Rhonda remarked, a faint smile forming on her face. "Come on, let's go take a look."
With Rhonda leading the way, the two women plowed through the soft sand to a large dune about fifty feet away.
"Maybe we shouldn't intrude," Claudine said, her voice little more than a whisper.
"Sure we should," was Rhonda's quick reply. "Besides, I'm sure they're much too involved in what they're doing to even notice that we're spying on them."
The titian-tressed beauty then scrambled up the sand dune and peeked over the top, a lewd grin coming to her face as her eyes feasted on the sight of Jim Keller plunging his eight-inch cock into a blonde teenager's pert fanny.
Claudine reached the top of the dune a second later. She knew in her heart what she would find, thought she was prepared, yet the sight of her handsome husband feverishly cornholing the obviously pleased girl brought a gasp of surprise.
"Oh, my-" was all that she could manage to say, additional words sticking in her throat and refusing to come out.
"He must just have rammed it in," Rhonda said. She was silent for a moment, then added, "Perhaps I should amend what I told you before, honey. If you elect to have your good-looking husband provide your first rectum reaming, there may be more than a little pain."
"He's hurting her," Claudine whined. "See how the poor kid is crying."
Rhonda snorted. "Crying? Honey, that 'poor kid' is loving every second of it. Those are tears of joy."
For only a few seconds more did Rhonda and Claudine watch the pretty teenager who was on her hands and knees, receive the repeated thrusts of Jim's big bone into her quivering fanny. Then they slipped and slid down the dune and resumed their walk to the ocean, each silently considering the lewd spectacle just witnessed.