Chapter 1

I step out of my clothes and let them fall where they will. Barbara, meanwhile, has finished undressing and is lying on the bed watching me. I roll the covers, taking care that our naked bodies come into frequent contact. She shivers once, and I know she's getting stimulated.

The bed's bare, Barbara's bare, and I'm bare. I climb up on the satin sheets and stretch out alongside her. Now that the moment's actually come, I'm curiously detached. I'm hot and my cock's hard, but I'm also cool in the head. I think that if our respective spouses were to walk in right now, I wouldn't falter or lose my nerve. That's how confident I am.

I position Barbara's thighs and torso the way I want them. I kneel between her legs. The feel of her warm thighs hugging my legs adds another inch to my hard cock. When I spread her thighs apart and aim the tip of my prick at her cunt, she throws her head back and bleats something at me in a half-whisper, but it has nothing to do with contraception. Either she's solved the problem, or she's no longer worried. If Barbara's not worried, then I'm not worried. I complete the entrance and seize her buttocks one in either hand, moving them back and forth until I'm satisfied that we can't get any closer.

I begin to move. Hoping she'll remember what I teach her, I rise as high as I can and rotate so that Barbara's clitoris is trapped between my pubic bone and the fat mound of her mons veneris. Then I proceed to give "the man in the boat" a cruise he won't soon forget. I slam him and I batter him. I treat him very roughly indeed, but his owner seems delighted by it all, if her squeals and her groans mean anything.

Yeah, my shoulders get the clawing nail treatment, but I don't mind. I'm happy to be raked bloody because I'm enjoying this fuck more than I've ever enjoyed a fuck in my life. The sensations are more intense than I imagined they would be, the mental images more electrifying. I'm me, but I'm also Barbara, that's how keenly I'm preceiving the connection. The girl and me, we're one and the same.

When I'm close, this close, to ejaculating, I ease off to let my breathing catch up with the rest of me. The cum simmers back into my balls, and I'm ready to go again. This time I don't try to be Dr. Kinsey. I give Barbara an old-fashioned in-to-the-hilt-and-out-again fucking. For ten minutes I pour the meat to her the way I hope it's never been poured before or since. I give her the kind of fucking I'd want to get if I were a woman. I....

The harsh jangle of the alarm clock woke Mel Martin from the best dream he had had in months-he was the guest of a well-known television star and in bed with his host's beautiful blonde wife. With the guy's knowlege, of course. Martin shut the alarm off and glanced at his sleeping wife, Donna. Still asleep. It took a civil defense alert to wake D. from a sound sleep. He envied her.

Martin got up to shave, dress and eat. After a plate of eggs and bacon, he knew that he would trudge off to his job with a flying service. Not out of choice, he might have explained-out of necessity. He had acquired a nagging habit over the years that he simply couldn't shake: he liked to eat.

"And what's this gauge?"

Martin, who had flown dozens of aircraft types, including a Huey helicopter in 'Nam, winced at his passenger's ignorance. She was pretty as hell, he granted, but abysmally unknowing in the ways of the air. "That's the altimeter." He put the three-year-old Mooney on a level course, backed off on the stick, then set the automatic pilot. The whole city and the distant hills were spread out below them, a panorama he had seen so many times he no longer looked twice.

Evelyn Payne, a natural blonde with a natural talent for naivete, studied the instrument panel. "What does the T stand for?"

For tail, Martin almost said, but caught himself before he said it. "Throttle."

"Oh." Mrs. Payne sent an apologetic smile his way. "It's my first flight."

Martin chuckled wryly. "I can tell." He regretted, for at least the hundredth time, Hugh Laurens' admonition against dallying with students-or prospective students. The first instructor suspected of having his balls where they shouldn't be, the owner of Airways Flying Service had once declared, would take the screwing himself. Like he would be fired, and the reason for it made known throughout the length and breadth of aviationdom. The motive wasn't morals, just safety. Airways owned a remarkable record for it. "Think you're interested in the six-week course? That's our basic, you know. Covers everything. Assures your of a single-engine rating."

"I-think so." Mrs. Payne, betraying her nervousness, clenched her fists and stared out through the cabin window. "It's a long way down when someone makes a mistake, isn't it?"

Martin laughed, admiring the way his prospect's up-tilted breasts protruded against the fabric of her sweater. A nice one. They might have gotten on well together if only he hadn't been moved from basic to intermediate. Art Geddis, the basic instructor, had called in sick today, that's why Martin was up with a novice. "The longest. You may be grounded for keeps. Okay, I'll take us down and you can talk to Mister Laurens about terms. He's flexible that way."

He took the controls, circled the field twice, then brought them in, at the tower's request, on the south runway. He made it smooth, for her sake. They taxied in silence to the hangar west of the terminal, where Airways made its headquarters. Martin took reluctant leave of both the girl and the plane. He liked them both for different reasons. "See you." He gave her a look which she might have encouraged.

She didn't. "Thank you, Mister Martin." Evelyn Payne, hips swinging, strode away in the direction of the office.

Martin, disappointed, went to clock out. He was through for the day. Business was slack to dead on Monday afternoons. Someone was out in the Comanche, but Airways' two remaining planes, a Cessna twin and a Beechcraft Bonanza, were parked on the apron. They would stay there until Tuesday, when the ground crew would check them out for another day's work.

He retrieved his car from the lot and poked it out into the afternoon traffic. Home, he thought sourly. Home to a dead marriage. Only he wasn't going home just yet. Not until he had to. He was going to meet someone. Someone named Shannon Hartgrave.

Shan Hartgrave was a buyer for the women's wear section of a large department store. She was twenty-five. She had long, flowing black hair, high, large breasts, and legs that turned heads wherever she went. Martin had met her three months ago when she drove by one afternoon with her roommate to discuss a flying lesson. Shan herself had backed out, but the roommate had gone on to graduate.

Shan had seemed to go for him, not flying. Him or his six-foot build and wavy brown hair. She hadn't tried to conceal the way she felt, either, practically asking him to make love to her if he wished. Or at least drop by her apartment for a drink, any time he felt like it.

Martin felt like it now. Christ, how he felt like it. He needed Shan the way he no longer needed D. But he brooded over his need to sneak a piece of ass. The way to save a full marriage, he said to himself, is to get into the swap scene. That's right, the swap scene. Why don't I bring it up? Because Donna would think I've turned into a pervert. So he sneaked his thrills.

As he reached the municipal auditorium for what he remembered was the largest spring showing of the season, his prick began to rise. An almost urgent need for Shan took hold of him. He parked his car and went to a side exit. A guard who knew him from prior showings allowed him inside. Martin had shed his flying suit and donned a light sport jacket, so he knew that he didn't look too out of place.

The show wasn't ready to start. He glanced around at the five hundred or so buyers and reporters waiting for the curtain. Shan wasn't in the seat assigned to her, so Martin went backstage to find her. After getting by the director of the show, he finally spotted her near the wardrobes. She saw him, too, and she hurried to meet him.

She wore a green knit mini-suit with a matching bow in her carefully parted hair. Martin hitched up his pants as he neared her. For her sake, if not his, he didn't want to stroll around backstage with a tent cropping out of his crotch.

"Mel, darling, I'm so glad you came!" Shan noticed tented peak at his loins, then smiled.

She embraced him, and Mel's tent ballooned. "I wanted to catch the end of the show and then take you home," he complained. "Looks like I'm an hour early." He had to look away. The way her breasts filled out the bodice of the mini-suit made him itch to get inside it.

"Not really. More like half an hour. Now you won't miss a thing." Shan divined his thoughts, then laughed. "Including the new see-throughs. They come on first."

"If only you were inside one," he mourned.

"Is our date still on?"

"You bet."

"Your wife still bugging you?"

"Yeah. I'm worried sick she may use the recordings in court."

Shan broke up so hard that everyone looked their way. "You're a riot, Mel!" She saw the director's signal. "No more jokes for now, though, huh? I really do have to work."

"I. wouldn't keep a hard-working girl from her bread." Mel stepped back to stand by the side as the show preparations proceeded. Assistant directors and breathless, half-dressed models seemed to be running in every direction. His neck was developing a crick from all the craning. The madness ended promptly at two-thirty, when Mel heard an excited voice informing the audience that the fashion show was about to begin. Martin followed Shan out front to sit.

Except for the hot pants and swimwear showings, some of which did feature transparent tops, he was more bored than titillated. Most of the hundred-odd walk-ons were too skinny for his taste. He sat through it, however, because he figured the reward was worth it. The reward ... was Shan herself.

At a quarter-past three, the last one passed. His reward snapped her notebook shut and slipped a hand in his. "Shall we head for my apartment, love? I may have something nice for you there. Something you'll like very much."

"Tell me, tell me," he begged, smiling.

She winked. "And spoil the anticipation?"

Mel led her from the building, tucked her inside her Firebird, then followed in his Chevrolet to her apartment. Once he had asked her what she paid for the handsome, fourth-floor quarters with the elegant carpeting and the exquisite view. Shan had laughed, winked, then she had asked him how much Airways paid him-a. point he was sensitive on. He had shut up.

"Make yourself comfortable while I fix us a couple of tonics," she advised, as soon as they were safely inside.

Martin sat down in a high-backed lounge chair. His sperm-filled balls throbbed from the many nights he had gone without sex. to punish D. for punishing him. But he knew that he couldn't be comfortable, not until he had come off at least twice. Maybe three times. Still, he could afford to sit and wait. A man had to wait for the better things in life. Shan was definitely one of the better things that had happened to him lately.

She returned from the kitchenette with the drinks and handed him one. "I hope you like them hard. I do."

He chuckled, then took a quick sip of the tonic. "I do. And it's great."

She gestured at a divan on the other side of the room. "Like to move over there?"

He moved, sitting down in the middle. Shan sat in front of him on the rug, still dressed in the simple smock that he liked her in best. She looked up at him with an expression that he didn't need any help in deciphering. Her blue eyes seemed to smolder passionately.

Martin, who suddenly didn't want the drink, met her gaze with answering fire. An urge to possess her, quickly and violently, took hold of him. He stifled it, waiting, wanting the first move to be hers.

She drained her glass, then put it aside. She reached up to unbutton his coat. She saw the sharp outline of his cock along the right leg of his trousers. Her eyes narrowed, She brought up an arm and rested it on his knee. Working a tapered finger to the tip of his prick, she scratched gently through the taut fabric of his pants.

The bulge in Mel's pants hardened instantly.

Shan smiled. She seized the hardness and squeezed, causing a tiny ejaculation and a telltale stain. "Congratulation, Mel, darling. Your glands are working."

Martin peered at the dampness on his trousers. "Yes, I'm filled to overflowing. You can imagine why."

"Want to go into the bedroom?"

He jumped up, finishing his drink in one gulp. "Please." His breath had quickened and his heart beat so rapidly that he knew that he should have been alarmed. The prospect of a good hot screw was almost more than he could stand. He swore that he would never force himself to go this long again, Shan or no Shan.

When he was down to his jockey shorts, he noticed she hadn't begun undressing yet. "Do I need a mouthwash?" he joked.

She shook her head. "I'll start after you get those off. A proper hostess, you know."

He laughed. "I know." The task of undressing was finished. He turned to let her see what a full-grown prick looked like. A man-sized prick. His was certainly man-sized. He had seven inches of rigid maleness, all of which was exposed to her view. She filled her eyes with the sight of his erecting cock.

Shan sighed.

"Well, you've seen it before."

"See it, felt it-" She laughed as he twitched his prick a few times for her. "What control! Does it do everything you want it to, Mel?"

"Almost," he admitted, still waiting for her to undress.

She quickly loosened her shift, then stepped out of it. She undid her bra and threw it on a chair. The whiteness of her breasts contrasted marvelously with the rest of her tanned body. They stood out in perfect symmetry, jutting at just the right angle.

It was Mel's turn to stare.

She shook her huge tits at him, then she turned to run her fingers through her hair, postponing the moment when she would be totally nude, entirely ready for him. The bikini panties came away last-she slipped her thumbs into the waistband and tugged, rolling the lacy garment down over her lean thighs, revealing yet another area that hadn't been exposed to the sun.

Martin whistled.

Shan arched her back and tossed her hair at him. "Which part of me do you like best?"

He eyed her breasts, her buttocks, the pink creases that trailed off to a dusky area where he could see the softly swelling mound of her cunt. A hell of a question. He liked all the parts, because they added up to a damned interesting whole. "Come over here and ask me that again."

She stepped out of her panties and took a few steps toward him, pirouetting gracefully. Finally she was near enough for him to grasp. She showed her tongue. He opened his mouth. She buried her tongue in his mouth. Pressing warmly against him, she molded her luscious body to his.

Mel discovered that his cock was trapped between their warm bodies. The stimulation was too much. He pulled his mouth away from hers. "I can't take this very long," he panted. "I haven't had pussy-real pussy-in a week."

He pushed her down on the bed and worked his way between her legs. He placed his hands behind her knees, forcing her legs upwards and apart. He gazed down at her cunt-lips. The glistening, red petals made saliva well up in his mouth. He decided to put some of it to good use. Lowering his head and forcing her legs higher, he exposed her clit.

He began tonguing it.

Shan moaned and convulsed in his arms.

Encouraged, he kissed his way along the tender flesh of her abdomen until he reached her navel. He continued upward until he encountered her warm, fragrant cleavage. He hesitated, then seized a breast in each hand and brought them together, gnawing and licking both nipples together. When the tips threatened to burst, he left off. He could feel her fingernails scratching his scalp.

"Eat me, Mel. Please eat me," she urged. "You know I love having you do that."

He wasn't averse to doing it, so he did, sending his tongue lashing into the slippery folds of her cunt. His mouth searched until the fleshy part of her pussy were caught between his teeth. Now he had a mouthful of her hot, moist cunt. He began to thrill her.

Shan's legs captured his head between them. She snatched a handful of his hair and pulled him close, almost too close to her ever-widening cunt.

Their bodies, to someone who might have burst in unexpectedly, must have harmonized beautifully on the silk sheets-hers, white and quivering, his, tanned and tense with gathering need.

"Oh, Mel, Mel-!" Shan gasped.

Mel stopped long enough to glance up at her lust-contorted face. She looked less like a soon-to-be-famous model than a coed out for some senior-year high jinks. He had plenty more in store for her.

"I'm coming, Mel, I'm coming! Oh, don't stop now, please!"

Her climaxing movements became so vigorous that he couldn't maintain a hold; she slipped out of his hands and orgasmed thunderously. He could only let himself be swept along with the tide, marveling at the depth of her orgiastic response.

They rested. After she got her breath back, she rolled over and kissed him. "Mel, honey, you do know the way to turn me on. Now I'll do the same for you. I hope you're ready."

Mel was, or thought he was. He pulled himself up and stretched out on his back. Shan smiled into his eyes for an instant, then she tongued his nipples into turgid excitement. Moving her head still lower, she applied her tongue equally to his stomach, delving wetly into his navel..

Mel, eyes closed, felt his prick stiffen as she worked herself between his legs. Shan's fingers flew over him to complement her oral ministrations. She turned at last to the insides of his thighs, finally to his hairy balls.

She began kissing his cock, up one side then down the other. When she reached his cock's tender ridge, she tapped it adroitly with the underside of her tongue. A drop or two of lubricant appeared from the tip of his prick. She lapped them away.

"For God's sake, Shan, quit fooling around and do it!" Mel groaned.

She closed her eyes, parted her lips wider, then took all of his hard cock into her mouth. His prick was so large that she had to force part of it down her throat. She did it without gagging.

Mel, who couldn't have stopped her now, even if he had wanted to, grabbed handfuls of her hair. He had been eaten before, but never by a hot mouth like this. Shan's mouth was educated. She didn't seem to lose a breath as she started back up to the tip, then back down again, in rhythm to his bouncing prick. He could feel her panting with pleasure as she left off with the long strokes and concentrated on the head of his erection. He began to experience a feeling of uncontrollable excitement.

She felt him swelling in her mouth. She grabbed the base of his cock with one hand and squeezed, causing him to come suddenly. She milked hard with her hand, draining him of every drop of semen. She drew away after she'd finally finished, then she went into the bathroom.

She could hear her brushing away the taste of his orgasm. He wasn't hurt. Few women liked the taste of cum.

She came back to him, searching in her handbag for a comb. She began to use it on her long, silky hair. He lay on his back and watched. He knew that there would be another session in a few minutes. Right now he let her rest.

When Shan saw that he wished to wait, she went back into the kitchen to mix another round of drinks. He sat up to light one of her menthol cigarettes.

She brought back two smoothly mixed Manhattans. Martin sampled one, found it to his liking, then drained it. He smacked his lips. "You give great head and you mix drinks like a bar-school prof. Any other specialties?"

She laughed and shook her head. "My only ones." She leaned close to kiss him. "We should have been doing this all along.

Donna. Shan shouldn't have reminded him. Donna had taken to nagging him lately. If she ever found out about Shan, she would do more than nag. She would put a dent-possibly two-in his brain-box. He would have a devil of a time flying with chronic migraines. "We'll have to be careful, kid. You and me. Careful. Understand?"

"Is she so jealous?"

"Jealous? Listen, baby, she takes every call I get. Opens every letter. Make a note of that."

Shan looked scornful. "She must lack confidence in herself. A woman who's sure of herself doesn't act that way. Not if she wants to keep her man."

Mel was becoming unhappy at the direction that the conversation was going. "Let's not talk about her. Come here."

Shan came into his arms again. Without being asked, she began manipulating his prick in a way calculated to bring him to a throbbing readiness again. When his prick was hard once more, she crawled on top of him sliding down on his cock until he disappeared inside her wet pussy. "I've tasted you, Mel, now I want to feel you. I'll fuck you the best, the longest way you've ever had."

Martin liked the sound of that. He ran a hand over her pubic mound, pausing at the spot where his cock knifed into her snatch. He imagined that he could feel his stiff prick through her flesh, although he knew that he couldn't. "Sometimes the best isn't the longest."

"I'll give you both"

"Then do it and stop talking about it." He seized her breasts and pinched her nipples hard. Each time he did this, she raised her slippery cunt to the top of his cock and started back down again. They repeated the caress for endless minutes, until they were ready to climax. She moved her pussy from side to side, varying her movements to stay with his jerking cock. He met her lunges each time with a responding thrust.

They fucked and fucked with mounting enthusiasm as they reached a dizzying orgasm.

When finally they parted, it was growing dark outside. He had spent three blissful hours with her. They took turns showering, then shared another drink together. Shan suggested that they have dinner together.

Mel shook his head, although the idea was tempting. "Not a chance. I told D. I'd be home by seven." He looked at his watch. "Gives me half an hour to get there. She thinks I drove down to Mid-American Aviation to talk about an office job. Wants me to get it on the ground and keep it there. Not a bad idea. I just can't swing it now. An office job means a pay cut. Period."

"Are you satisfied with the salary Mister Laurens pays you, Mel?"

"Satisfied? Hell, no. Nine thousand dollars a year with free insurance and hospitalization. But I've only been with them for five months. It still beats what I was doing in Asia." He grimaced. "Picking lead out of chopper underbellies-and sometimes my own. The pay would crack you up."

Shan moistened her lips and snuggled closer to him. "Mel, have you heard any stories about Mister Laurens?"

"Stories? What kind of stories?"

"About the parties he gives. Sex parties. Where everything goes. He hires good-looking young men and women to-don't you understand?"

Mel, recalling a comment or two from Geddis and a ground crewman a week previous, did understand. He hadn't been around Airways long enough to fully know the score, but other things were adding up in his mind now. Like the way the girls in the office, all young, all attractive, seemed to rotate. So fast he couldn't keep track of the new faces. He had wondered, but he hadn't felt it his business to ask. Since he was married, Laurens must have assumed he wasn't interested. Or maybe that he couldn't be trusted. "Tell me more."

Shan seemed to consider the odds before replying. "I've been to some of these parties."

"What?" He looked at her in amazement. "You?"

"Don't bite my head off," she said defensively. "I needed the money. A few more parties, and I'll be able to afford a new apartment. A much nicer one. And Mel...."

"Yeah?"

"You could come, too. You'd meet a lot of swinging people and have a fucking ball."

"Don't be ridiculous!" he snapped. "I'm not for hire. Besides, the parties are all probably at night. How in God's name would I get away? What could I tell D.?"

"Tell her you're moonlighting, silly," Shan laughed. "And you would be. You'd take home extra cash every week. Any wife appreciates that. You can think of a way to explain the hours."

Martin, after thinking about what Shan said, decided that he could. He knew that there was a minor vacancy in the FAA office across the field from Airways. A night job. He could tell D. he had landed it. She would be proud of him and he could get out more often. Yes, he decided, I just might be interested in Hugh Laurens' 'parties', whatever they might be. "How would I go about getting in? Who'd vouch for me?"

Shan planted a cool kiss on his cheek. "Leave everything to me, darling. I'll take care of it."

He was still thinking about her words as he drove homeward.