Chapter 2
Ed Simmons had sat quietly during most of the evening. He had watched the performances on stage with interest while waiting patiently for his turn to come, but now and then his mind strayed. He wondered what some Lit his colleagues at the university would say if they. could see him at the party, stripped naked and fucking other men's wives. But he decided that they wouldn't censure him; almost all the professors had affairs from time to time, and this was almost the same. And it was better, really, because there was no sense of cheating. No, it was open and free; he and Dale would never have a scene when one discovered that the other had a lover.
When he and Dale were married two years before they had agreed to tell each other of any extra-marital flings. Dale had been a virgin before he met her, and after a year she told him that, although she loved him and loved sex with him, she wanted to try it with other men. He had been a bit shocked at first, but had agreed, and the matter was settled a few weeks later when they met Barry and Nancy at a party.
It paid dividends, too. Every time Dale returned from an evening with another man she seemed to have picked up another little trick, a new position or a variation on an old one, and she was now a completely different lover than she had been before. She didn't know everything yet, but Ed was sure that she knew more than most women of twenty-two, and perhaps more than some women would ever know.
He watched her now on stage with Fred. She was on her hands and knees while Fred thrust in from behind, and she was enjoying it, if her groans were any indication. Ed enjoyed watching her have a good time, just as he had enjoyed .the admiring glances that her hairless pussy had received. He just hoped that she would never find a man that thrilled her enough to make her want to leave him.
Dale and Fred soon finished, and now it was his turn to spin the needle. He rather hoped that it would turn out to be Nancy, for that would mean that Barry would go next, and hence all the men and all the women would have a turn on the stage. It would be neat and orderly like that; Ed prized order just a fraction less than he prized his wife.
However, after several spins that came out wrong, pointing to himself, his wife, and then himself again, the needle pointed to Carol. He placed her at the bottom of the list of desirability, but he shrugged his shoulders and walked to the stage to fuck her and be done with it.
"This seems to be my lucky night," Carol said when she joined him. "I got to use the whip, and now I get the guy with the biggest prick."
Edward smiled ruefully. He was about to say, "It's too bad it has to be wasted on you," but he refrained. Instead, he suddenly scooped her up by the ass, made her hook her legs around his waist, and tried to jab his cock into her cunt.
She was dry, and she said, "Hey! That hurts. You've got to get me wet first."
Ed didn't feel like spending any time kissing and fondling her, so instead he aimed his mouth and let a large glob of spit fall onto his cock. He rubbed the head of his cock back and forth outside her cunt, spreading the saliva, and once more tried to penetrate. This time his prick slid in easily, and a moment later he felt Carol's juices added to the spit to make it easier still.'
He reflected that her cunt was tight and muscular, and that she really wasn't a bad fuck. If she weren't such a bitch any man might be glad to screw her. But as it was, Ed just wanted to make her come and then come himself, while wasting as little time and energy as possible.
Making Carol come was no problem. He could hear her heavy panting as he thrust in and out, and he felt her fingernails digging into his back. Her breathing became irregular, she began to moan, and Ed pulled her ass closer, making his cock fill her cunt completely, while at the same time he stuck a finger into her asshole. That did it, and Carol bit his shoulder in passion while she came. He felt the rhythmic contractions of her cunt enveloping his prick and let himself come, and was surprised at the intensity of his orgasm. He hadn't thought that Carol could arouse him like that.
She still clung to him, though they were both still now, but finally Ed lifted her up and away, then eased her down. He walked off the stage before she had fully recovered her strength and was able to stand.
A few minutes later, on her way to the back of the room, Carol paused in front of him. "You're not much of a gentleman," she said, "leaving me on stage like that."
"But you had a good time, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did." Carol almost smiled. Then, "Oh, go fuck yourself," she said, and she walked on.
Edward laughed to himself but said nothing.
It was Fred's turn again, since his wife Carol had been Edward's partner, but Fred said that he would pass in favor of Barry. Everyone agreed, and Ed was glad that things would work out properly after all.
Sharon became Barry's partner, and they fucked twice in the space of ten minutes, finishing the evening's diversion. All that remained was to choose partners for the night, and then the couples could leave when they wanted.
The lights were turned up, Nancy Johnson passed around a tray with fresh drinks, and slips of paper with the names of the women were placed in a bowl. Each man drew a name: Barry got Dale, Fred had Sharon, Peter drew Carol's name, and Edward was left with Nancy. Ed was not displeased, but, since the men went to the women's houses and Nancy was the hostess this evening, she and Ed would not be able to get together until everyone else had left. But it didn't look as if it would be too long; most people seemed rather anxious to be alone and do some serious fucking with their partners.
Dale came over to say goodnight to Ed before leaving with Barry. She kissed him, and Ed let his hand fall to her smooth cunt.
"You going to miss it, dear?" she asked.
"Of course I will."
"But it'll be back tomorrow. And besides, you'll be with Nancy and she's shaved too."
"That's right," Ed said, "I'd forgotten that."
Dale kissed him one more time and went upstairs, carrying her clothes in her hand. For some reason which Ed had never understood, his wife never liked to dress while others were watching, even Ed, al-though she didn't mind undressing. Ed ascribed it to a quirk of human nature.
Within ten more minutes everyone had left. Ed sat in a chair in the basement, sipping on a final drink, waiting for Nancy to return from upstairs. As he waited he closed his eyes and thought back to an article he was working on for a professional journal, an article which reached conclusions that, despite being somewhat radical, might establish Ed's reputation as an expert in the field of theoretical mathematics and imaginary numbers. He hoped so, anyway.
But his thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he felt first a soft hand and then a warm wet mouth closing over his prick. He opened his eyes quickly to see Nancy's head lowered over his crotch, sucking his cock, while she knelt on the floor between his legs.
"You're not wasting any time, are you, Nancy?" he said quietly.
Nancy stopped her sucking and looked up. "I was just making sure that you were in the mood. And I must say, you certainly are." She looked down at his cock, which had stiffened to full size while she sucked. "If you'll just keep it up like that while we go upstairs," Nancy continued, "we're going to have one hell of a night."
Ed stood up, and Nancy rose also. He quickly thrust his hand between her legs, feeling for the slit in the smooth shaved flesh, and he found what he was looking for. "I'll keep my cock hard if you just keep that juice flowing," he said, and Nancy murmured that he had nothing to worry about on that account.
They were in the bedroom a minute later. This was Nancy's room, her husband's being at the other side of the house, and Nancy quickly reminded Ed that he could stay as long as he liked the following day. "Barry knows better than to come in here when there's a chance I might not be alone."
"And how often is that, besides weekends?" Ed said as he sprawled on the bed, his legs spread, his cock standing up in the air.
"Depends how lucky I am," Nancy laughed. "Twice, maybe three times a week, maybe more. But enough of that. What do you want to do right now?"
Ed held his cock between two fingers and waved it. "What do you think I want to do?"
"Well, naturally. But how about making it more interesting? For instance, would you like to rape me?"
It was Ed's turn to laugh. "I didn't know that it was possible to rape you, Nancy. Someone raped by you, perhaps, but I can't quite imagine a time when you wouldn't enjoy being fucked."
"Please, Ed. I'm just an innocent little woman who doesn't know the first thing about flicking or sucking or anything like that. Here I am in my bed-room, naked because I'm getting ready for a shower, and suddenly there's a naked man in my room. I struggle, but it's hopeless, and I find myself being raped. Do you get the picture?"
"If that's the way you want it then I'll gladly oblige. Do you want me to go outside the room and suddenly burst in?"
"That'll be perfect," Nancy said.
Ed stepped outside and closed the door behind him. His prick had not decreased in size one bit, but he rubbed it just to make sure. He gave Nancy a couple of minutes to get ready and then threw open the door.
Nancy was standing with her back to him on the other side of the bed. She had put on a pair of pan-ties that Ed was sure were intended to be torn off, but otherwise she was still naked. Ed stifled a laugh when he thought that she was supposed to be an innocent virgin who would soon be fighting for her honor. If there was anything which the voluptuous Nancy did not look like it Was a virgin. But, for the sake of the little game, Ed tried to imagine it. He took a step forward.
Nancy turned around and saw him. She screamed, not loudly enough to alarm the neighbors, but. still the scream seemed realistic. Her hands flew up to cover her naked breasts. "What do you want?" she cried.
"I'm going to rape you," Ed said, trying to make his words sound convincing.
"I'll call the police," Nancy screamed, and she tried to rush past him to the door.
Ed hooked his arm around her stomach and dragged her back, throwing her on the bed. He reached for her panties to tear them off, but suddenly Nancy lashed out and scratched her fingernails across her cheek.
"Hey!" Ed cried, his cheek smarting. "You're not supposed to do that."
"When I'm being raped I'll do anything I please," Nancy retorted, and her hand lashed out once more. He caught it before she scratched him again, and with his free hand he slapped her across the face. Nancy groaned, but Ed saw her eyes light up. She was enjoying it.
She made a half-hearted attempt to scratch him again with her other hand, but Ed easily caught her wrist. He then climbed over her, sitting on her thighs while holding her arms pinned to the bed with his knees. He began to slap her lightly, first across the face, then her breasts. He saw her nipples stiffen and almost throb under his smarting blows.
Nancy had ceased to struggle, but she still groaned with each slap. Ed could feel her hips lifting as she tried to make her cunt come in contact with his cock, and when he slipped his hand between her thighs he found that the panties were soaking.
"All right, bitch, get up on your feet," he said, climbing off her. He pulled her up after him.
Suddenly, Nancy tried to break for the door again. Once more Ed stopped her, and now, when he threw her across the bed, her thighs were spread at the edge with her feet on the floor. With a sweeping motion he ripped off the panties, flinging them across the room, and in another instant he was fucking her.
He plunged his cock into her cunt as hard and .as fast as he could. If she were really a virgin, as they were .pretending, his cock would be making her bloody and sore. As it was, however, Nancy had for-gotten the playacting, and she rose up to meet each thrust, rotating her hips and grinding her cunt under him. She groaned, but from pleasure, not pain.
Ed was fucking her brutally, and Nancy seemed to be loving it. He had never seen this side of her be-fore, but he reflected that many women were masochists; most of them repressed it, while a few made submissiveness their sexual norm. But he doubted that Nancy was truly a masochist. More likely she just enjoyed playing the roles to make sex more interesting, and Ed thought that he wouldn't be surprised if she took the dominant role the next time.
"Damn it, I'm coming already," Nancy cried, and Ed began thrusting faster and more deeply. "Ah!" she moaned, and then her cunt went wild, heaving up against blip,' and she laughed and cried at the same time. Ed slowed down, catching his breath, once her climax had finished.
"I didn't know it felt so good to be raped," Nancy laughed, opening her eyes. "I always thought that a rape was supposed to be agony."
"But this rape isn't finished yet," Ed said, rolling off her quickly. "Get down on your knees on the floor and suck me."
He saw Nancy's eyes light up, but she said, "And how are you going to make me?"
"Like this!" He grabbed her arm, forced it behind her back, and pushed her to the floor. He maintained the pressure on her arm while he made her lower her head and open her mouth, but he relaxed his hold once she started sucking.
She sucked expertly, and Ed lay back on the bed to enjoy it. Through half open eyes he watched her bobbing head, saw her mouth bulge with the prick inside it, and he placed one hand on the back of her head to guide it. She was sucking slowly now, running her wet lips up and down around the cock while she tongued it inside her mouth. Her hand grasped the cock at the base, and she moved the hand rhythmically with the sucking of her mouth, up and down, up and down, now gaining tempo but still controlled.
Ed could feel his passion mounting. He was al-most to the brink now; every movement of Nancy's hand and mouth brought him a little closer to coming. Finally the moment was upon him, and with both hands he held her head, forcing it to move furiously, and he felt his come surging through his prick, almost out, almost there, and then pouring from his cock and into Nancy's sucking mouth in waves, one, two, three waves of come; then he was drained and breathing hard while Nancy toyed with his prick and balls.
Nancy was the first to speak: "You almost drowned me with that one."
"Sorry," Ed said. "But remember; you were being raped."
"Don't worry, I'm not complaining. In fact, you can rape me anytime you like."
Ed said, "You shouldn't. have said that, because I may take you up on it."
Nancy laughed. "Please do," she said.
Ed was thinking about Nancy when he stopped by his office Monday morning before going to his first class. He thought about how he had pretended to rape her once more that evening, and how, in the morning, Nancy had switched roles by forcing her cunt onto his face while he was still asleep. He remembered with relish how the smell of her cunt had penetrated his dreams, and how he had stuck out his tongue to lick it while only half awake. He was still groggy from sleep when she came the first time and had moved down to straddle him, closing her cunt around his cock, and leaning down to lick her own juice from his face. He had told Dale about that, and she had promised to do it to him sometime when it would be unexpected. Dale had also promised to show him a new position she had learned from Barry, in which she lay on her back, her hips raised, while Barry had been perpendicular to her, lying on his stomach, making his cock penetrate completely and at an unusual angle. Ed could feel his prick come alive as he thought about it, but he forced it from his mind and concentrated on the day's work.
There was half an hour before the class. Ed had to go over a few notes to prepare for it, but that would only take a few minutes. First, he reached for the mail which the departmental secretary had left on his desk.
An invitation to a faculty dinner, some advertisements, a note from a student requesting a conference. Ed looked these over absent-mindedly.
He shared the office with five other junior faculty members. They had separate desks divided by low partitions that afforded little privacy, and every few minutes one professor or another would stop by to say good morning and exchange pleasantries. Often, when a colleague would ask, "How was your week-end?" Ed wanted to reply, "Great! I balled four women not counting my wife." But he always man-aged to refrain from saying that, although he was sure that they would take it in jest if he had. But it was better to be discreet.
This morning it seemed that everyone wanted to stop and chat for a few minutes, so by the time he came to the last letter there were only several minutes left until he had to leave for class. It was a long business envelope with his name and address at school typed on, but it lacked a return address. He thought that he would hold it until after class, but his curiosity made him open it. Later on he wished that he had never seen it.
He slit it open .with his pen knife, pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and read:
Dear Professor Simmons:
Lam sure that you would not like everyone at the university to know how you spend your weekends. I am also sure that your wife would not want her friends to find out about your little orgies, where you two commit adultery as carelessly as cats.
But you need not be afraid. For a nominal fee, say $25 per week, your secret will be safe. You have two weeks in which to consider my offer. At the end of that period you will receive directions on the method by which payment will be made, as well as two 8 x 10 glossy proofs, suitable for framing, showing you and your wife in action.
But do not go to the police. If I am discovered and arrested, I assure you that everything I know about you will be disclosed.
The letter was unsigned.
Ed's first impulse was ,to laugh. The letter was surely a joke. He wondered who could have sent it. Barry, perhaps. He always had a trick up his sleeve at the parties, and he conceivably could have taken pictures during the weekend get-together. But Barry took the swapping too seriously, and it was he who had imitated the screening procedure to make sure that everyone was trustworthy. He would never want to play a cheap joke.
Was there anyone else? Joe smith, perhaps. He had often pulled practical jokes, but they were never as serious. Besides, the Smiths were on the West Coast now, and when Ed flipped over the envelope to look at the postmark he saw that it had been mailed from the city on Saturday.
He thought about the other members of the group. Fred was always, cheerful, but once again, he would not play a joke like this. And none of the others had the potential.
What about his wife? She might have mailed it, and right now she could be sitting at home laughing about it. But then Ed realized that she hadn't been in the city for at least a week, and certainly not on Saturday, so it could not have been her.
Slowly it dawned on him that the note, despite its light heartedness, might be serious. Someone might actually intend to blackmail him. A cold hardness grew in his stomach when he thought of this. Some-one, in some manner, had discovered that he and Dale attended swapping parties, and now they were making the most of it. But who could it be?
It didn't seem likely that it would be any of his friends outside the group. He and Dale had never mentioned it to anyone, and if there had been talk among the neighbors he was sure that they would have heard about it. Of course, they had hinted about swapping to Steve and Mindy White when they were seeing if they were interested in joining, but they had said nothing specific, and nothing to make them think that any swapping would be done besides between the two couples. It seemed that if it was anyone known to him, it had to be someone in the group. But who?
Ed glanced at his wristwatch and realized with a start that he was late for his class. He folded the note with nervous hands and slipped it into his jack-et pocket before rushing to the classroom.
His students seemed disappointed when he entered the room; apparently they were hoping that he would not show. He tried to forget about the letter as he began his lecture, but after a few minutes he found that he was making so many mistakes that he couldn't continue. With an apology that he wasn't feeling well, he dismissed the class and walked back to his office.
He was thankful that no one else was there. He sat at his desk for a moment, thinking, and then unfolded the letter and read it once more. Possibly it was just a joke by his wife, although it was a different type from that of the typewriter at home. But Dale would have been smart enough to have used a different one, so that didn't matter. He decided to call home.
Dale answered in a sleepy voice. Without a word of greeting Ed asked, "Do you know anything about the letter I received this morning?"
"What letter?" she asked, and the puzzlement in her voice seemed genuine.
"A letter I got in the mail this morning. A black-mail letter."
"Blackmail? Blackmail for what?"
Ed told her the contents and said that He had hoped it was just a practical joke that she had instigated.
"I'd never play a joke like that," she said, and Ed believed her. "Who do you think sent it?"
Ed said that he had no idea.
"Do you think that you'd be ruined at the university if everyone found out?" she asked.
Ed thought about that for a minute. "No," he said slowly, "I wouldn't be ruined. But it would make a juicy scandal, and things could be uncomfortable for a while. But do you have any idea who it could be?"
"I haven't the slightest," Dale replied. "But I'll think about it; end we can talk it over when you get home."
Ed hung up the phone and tried to think. He was thankful that he didn't have another class until after lunch, and by then he might be closer to a resolution of the problem. But damn it all, he thought, why does this have to happen to me? Two fellow professors entered and began to talk loudly on the other side of the room. Ed decided to flee the office and get a drink.
The Golden Shoe, the gathering place for the university students, was almost deserted in the late morning. Ed rarely came there; he had learned that it was wise not to become overly familiar with the students on a social basis. But the Golden Shoe was the nearest bar, and better yet, it was quiet now, so Ed was sure that he could do some serious thinking.
He sat at the bar, a Long oval in the center of the room, and ordered a scotch on the rocks. The bar-tender seemed about to start a conversation, but after Ed muttered a few noncommittal remarks in reply the bartender retreated to the far end of the bar.
A coed was sitting at the bar, a few stools down. Ed recognized her by sight; some faculty members had pointed her out as being a pushover for anyone wearing pants. She looked it.
She was wearing blue jeans and a tight sweater, and her breasts, which hung out over the bar, jiggled whenever she brushed her long blond hair over her shoulder. She glanced at Ed once with lowered eye-lashes and invitingly brushed her hand over the front of her body, from the neck to the stomach, passing over her breasts, but Ed did not meet her smile and instead looked away. Another time, he might have slid his drink down the bar and joined her, student or no student, but thinking about the blackmail note took priority. He watched the coed turn away with a shake of the head and concentrate on a bearded student who had just sat across from her.
Ed tried to think of all the possibilities. Firstly, it was either a joke or it was serious. If it was a joke then there was nothing to worry about; whoever had mailed the letter would soon come forward to laugh about it. But it would be a damned rotten joke for any of his friends to try, so he discounted that.
If the note were serious, and Ed was afraid that it probably was, then there were three possibilities. It was someone in the group; someone not in the group but still an acquaintance; or else someone entirely unknown to him. If it were someone in the group it would be easier to detect. Ed thought about it.
Everyone in the group had had the opportunity to take pictures at one time or another, provided that they were skilled in photography. If he had seen a picture he might know when and where they had been taken, and that could help, but he would have to wait for that. In the meantime, who would have had the skill?
There was Fred, of course. He had been in army intelligence, and perhaps he had used a concealed camera in the course of his work. But from what Fred had said he hadn't been engaged in that type of operation. He had mostly gone over reports sent in from the field and had also been in charge of stations which monitored radio broadcasts. And Fred didn't seem like they type to blackmail. Besides, Fred was a corporation vice-president now and didn't seem to need the :money. Not twenty-five dollars a week, anyway.
For that matter, who did need the money? Not Peter Lawrence, surely, because he was making more money than any of the others. But Barry? That was possible. He never cared much for his work, and he hadn't been promoted as fast as he might have been. But Barry always seemed to have enough. However, Barry had organized the group, and it was possible that he had intended to black-mail someone from the start. Ed decided that he would watch Barry closely, although he doubted that he would really stoop to blackmail. If he knew Barry, the chance of losing a cunt like Dale from the group would be ample reason not to blackmail the Simmons.
But there were the wives, too. They might have more use for the money than their husbands, especially such a small amount. It could mean extra money for clothes or almost anything.
Carol was the obvious suspect among the wives. She didn't seem to really like anyone, although she thoroughly enjoyed the feel of a hard cock in her cunt. But although she was spiteful and enjoyed making belittling comments, she didn't seem intelligent enough to think of, much less carry out, blackmail.
Sharon Lawrence didn't seem to be intelligent enough either, and money was no object to her. She always seemed to have the latest clothes, and Dale had said that she was embarrassed to shop with her, since Sharon always took her to the most expensive stores. It was conceivable that she wanted still more money, but it seemed that Sharon's idea of more money would be thousands, not just a hundred dollars a month.
That left Nancy Johnson. And there was a thought. He had been with Nancy that weekend, and Barry had been with Dale. They could have been in it together and arranged that each would take pictures, Nancy of her fucking Ed, Barry of him fucking Dale.
But wait. They had chosen lots for the partners, so they couldn't have known who they would be sleeping with that night. And the letter had been mailed before the lots were drawn. But it still seemed possible that Barry and Nancy were behind it all, though not probable, and Ed decided that he would watch them both for any sign.
Ed realized that his drink was empty and ordered another. The coed had joined the student with the beard, and Ed saw him casually feeling her breasts as they sat together. By the time his drink came they had left, and Ed noticed that the boy had his hand on the girl's ass. He almost wished that it had. been he who had picked her up.
Ed had several more drinks before he rushed out to make his afternoon class, and although he thought about everyone he knew, he could think of no one who might have sent the letter.
His wife was no help either. He sat down with her after he returned home and told her his thoughts, but she derided his suggestion that it was Barry and Nancy. "Barry doesn't care about money. All he wants is sex. And I think Nancy's the same way." But she did suggest that they should talk to some-one else about it.
"Who?" Ed asked:
"I don't know. How about Fred? He's had experience in investigating things."
"That's a damn good idea," Ed said. "If anybody can figure this out, it'll be Fred North."
"So you got a letter too," Fred said when Edward had explained the situation. "Have you been able to come up with anything?"
Ed told him what he thought about Barry and Nancy.
"I rather doubt it. Barry called me just a few minutes, ago. He got a letter, and so did Peter Lawrence."
"You mean that every single one of us got an identical note?" Ed was astonished.
"I'm afraid so," Fred said. "Look, we'll all be getting together at your house this weekend for the cocktail party. We'll all think about it, and maybe we'll come up with something by then. If not, then it looks like it's going to cost us."
"What about the police? Do you think that they could help?"
Fred laughed. "I know the chief of police. In fact, I play poker with him every other week or so. And if he does his police work the way he plays poker, then he couldn't find a thick in a haystack, let alone find someone who sends anonymous letters. And re-member what the blackmailer said: if we go to the police we might be in trouble. So let's put our heads together this Saturday and see if we can work something out. Until then, try not to worry about it. We have two weeks before we have to start paying any money."
Ed was hardly comforted by the advice. True, it was good to think that everyone was in the same situation, but that fact seemed to eliminate it being someone from the group, and therefore someone that they knew. Now it seemed likely that the black-mailer was someone who had discovered what they were up to, someone who had perhaps come across a party by accident, maybe looking in a window, and who had run to get a camera to take pictures which he later identified. Someone like that would be almost impossible to trace.
But Dale was a comfort. "Let's not think about it now," she said, and she grabbed Ed's hand and slid it under her dress. He felt the shaved flesh of her cunt with his hand, and in a few seconds he could feel her juice flowing.
She unzipped his pants and lowered her mouth to his protruding cock, and for the next several hours Ed was too active to think of anything else but Dale's wet cunt and sucking mouth.