Chapter 1
"Not bad," murmured George Halsey as the brunette slipped off her tight dress. "Not bad at all!"
She now wore a lacy black bra, sheer matching panties and misty black nylons and heels. She was slender and creamy-skinned, about twenty-eight or nine, George figured. There was something about her eyes and sultry lips that suggested she would be a terrific fuck.
George was already naked, his long hard-on quivering above his thick, hairy balls. Suddenly the brunette laughed. He felt a stab of anger.
"What's so funny?" he growled. "My dick?"
"No, not that," she said quickly. "I just realized that my husband is in the next room!"
He chuckled, feeling relieved: Maybe he didn't have a whopper like King Kong, but no one had ever complained about his thick, throbbing prick.
"Well, so's my wife, honey. How about taking the rest of it off?"
George sat on the edge of the bed while she began stripping naked, using slow, lascivious movements. Her tits were small, but very sexy, firm and pale with huge tan nipples that tilted upward. They were fat with desire now, and he lit a cigarette casually while she paused to stroke her tits for a minute, darting her tongue around her lips. At the rate she was stripping, he had plenty of time for a cigarette.
George had just met her thirty minutes ago, although they'd talked on the phone a number of times this week, mostly obscene suggestions. George and his wife Sheila had driven thirty miles to this small bedroom community from San Jose. This wife-swapping session had been arranged through a friend in George's office, who also went in for hot housewives.
The brunette's name was Vera, and she had a marvelously firm ass, George saw now as the cheeks rippled through her sheer panties. There was something George had failed to tell Vera, and he had a funny feeling it was going to cause trouble, but he didn't want to think about that now. Not with the slinky brunette propping one silken leg on a chair to teasingly roll off her nylons.
A huge drop of cream oozed out of George's inflamed knob as he saw her creamy thighs were wet with her cunt-honey. She was a hot one, all right, already softly jerking her pussy as she rolled the other nylon off. Nice legs too, slender, the kind he liked to have locked around his waist while she swung that sleek ass.
"The girl in the living room," George said suddenly, dying of curiosity. "She your daughter?"
The brunette flashed with anger and straightened up, her petite tits heaving. "Hell, no! How old do you think I am, George? She's my husband's daughter by his first marriage. I'm only twenty-five."
Bullshit, thought George with a grin. But the girl in the living room was a living sex-angel, wide-eyed, ripe-breasted, with the most luscious ass he'd seen in a long time. Was her father getting any of that gorgeous ass? George wondered.
Because his own softly curved daughter was about the same age, an ingenious plan had suddenly flashed in the insurance salesman's mind. Goddamn, if it worked!
But his plan quickly faded from his mind as Vera stepped out of panties and stood before him, hands on hips, softly jerking her silken-haired cunt. Her eyes smoldered and her small tits rose and fell as she stared at George's prick.
"Eat it," she whispered. "Eat me, honey."
He swallowed hard. "You first, Vera. You go down on me first, baby."
She hesitated, licking her sultry lips, torn between wanting her madly hot pussy eaten and giving this ruggedly built stranger a wild blow job. For a minute it was a standoff. Then with a soft moan, Vera knelt between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed, gently grasped his balls in one hand and lifted his pounding hot meat with the other. She thrust it eagerly in her boiling mouth.
"Ooooh, lady!" gasped George, startled at the fiery tight suction of her mouth. He clutched her head in his hands, inched forward on the mattress and began to fuck the brunette's mouth with groans of intense pleasure. She might have been thirty, and she might have small-but very sexy-tits, and George strongly suspected she was a real bitch with her husband. But what a fantastic, spine-tingling, ball-busting, roller-coasting blow job!
That was the beauty of wife-swapping for George. You never knew what you were going to get until you got it. Every time he saw another man's wife, George found himself wondering what her tits would feel like in his hands, and if they were ripe and lush enough. He wondered what her ass felt like and whether she would love having it fucked brutally. What would her cunt be like pumping and squirming on his rod, tight and juicy and on fire with heat? Would she be a wildly sucking little animal, or just another piece of pussy?
But even as the brunette feverishly sucked his cock to a quickening rhythm, jerking the base in her hot fist, gurgling in her throat with lust, George couldn't get his mind off the girl in the living room.
Or off his own daughter.
George was just aching to take his daughter's cherry. Hell, most girls her age had already lost it in the bushes or at dope parties or in the back seat of a car. And he would have done it already, too, if it hadn't been for his wife, a pretty blonde with lavish tits and a plumply curved ass, but with a backward set of morals as far as George was concerned.
"Hey, that's good!" he gasped when Vera suddenly scraped her teeth gently across the length of his stiff cock to make it tingle fiercely. "Don't worry," he added quickly. "I won't shoot off in your mouth."
The hell he wouldn't!
And if her soaked cunt was half as tight and juicy as her mouth, he was good for a total of three comes in a row-her mouth, her hot-looking pussy, and up her compact, creamy-skinned ass.
But Vera was not born yesterday. As she gave her wildly exciting blow job, her super-special as her husband called it, she used her free hands to push George back on the mattress. And with a smoothness of movement born of long experience with a great many men, Vera didn't miss a stroke on his pounding meat with her hungry lips and tongue as she climbed onto the bed, too. She shifted her body around in reverse, with her folded knees on each side of his ribs. Her dripping cunt now loomed over George's face and was inching down toward his mouth, whether he liked it or not.
Before he knew it, Vera was lustfully rubbing her wild pussy against his mouth. To his surprised pleasure, it tasted delicious! And as she ground her hot, silken cunt to his face, George dug his fingers into her satiny ass and rubbed it happily, shoving his tongue deep into her juicy depths.
Then the sixty-nine became a frantic, cocksucking, pussy-eating contest of thrills. Vera knew he intended to get his rocks off in her mouth-which she had loved ever since she went down on the entire high-school football team after a great victory. But the lewd brunette had every intention of coming all over his face first.
To accomplish that, Vera used a simple but very effective trick. She gripped the base of George's hot prick in her thumb and forefinger in a fierce, vise-like grip, so that it would be almost impossible for him to come as long as she held the grip. It nearly cut off the circulation to his cock, but it also desensitized it.
The rugged salesman couldn't come now if all the pussy in Paris sat on his face, in an assembly line.
Now Vera unleashed her full battery of tricks on his rod as she lustfully fucked his helpless mouth. She sucked madly for a minute, then lashed her tongue across his knob violently to make him groan. She dipped her mouth down to lap at his balls, giving them a wet and wanton tongue-job for a minute. George, molten thrills rippling through his loins, sucked on her squirming cunt with torrid excitement.
Her creamy ass was trembling and sweating in his hands now, and George slipped a finger up her boiling shitter to make her scream. It was more or less a test to see if she liked anything wriggling around up there, and George knew she'd crave the feel of his stiff cock pounding savagely up her soft butt.
In fact, the hot brunette liked anything to do with sex and could get her rocks off just watching and not even touching her pussy.
More than once Vera had gone into a frenzy of heat watching her stepdaughter stroll around the house in her bikini. The fantastic little fox! Vera would desperately love to go down on those tawny thighs, have the girl sit on her face for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but her husband absolutely would not hear of it.
The question that nagged and tormented the sexy brunette was whether he was getting it! Although he denied it hotly, she wondered. Because his daughter knew what was going on between them and other couples. Hell, she'd have to be stupid not to know, with all the action around here on weekends.
Vera's husband had told her that the girl knew all right, but simply accepted it as a grown-up game which had nothing to do with her. Really now!
Incensed by the thought that her husband might be dipping his fleshy cock into those sweet, gorgeous young thighs while she went starving for them, Vera suddenly took her anger out on George. She bit his dick savagely, just a sharp little nip but enough to make him yelp and slap her hard on her naked, swinging ass.
The fact that he couldn't get his rocks off while the brunette held her iron grip on his prick didn't annoy George-yet. For one thing, her pussy was a hot, luscious animal, fragrant and slippery on his face, her cunt-honey oozing in small delicious gushes in his mouth. And her ass felt terrifically exciting as it bounced in his fingers, the flesh wet with sweat and hot with lust.
For another thing, Vera had desensitized him just enough so that he could really enjoy her fabulous blow job without coming. Christ, if only his own wife could give a ball-breaker like this!
As Vera started coming over George's face in spasms of ecstasy, George thought about what he'd conveniently forgotten to tell both Vera and her husband.
His wife Sheila had a slight problem right now. That is, she'd gone into this wife-swapping deal very reluctantly, and this was her first time.
For the past two years, George had used single swingers for swapping, letting other couples assume it was his wife. When Sheila had found out about that, there had been a hailstorm of shit. That's when George calmly told her she could stop it anytime she wanted to-by joining him in the action. For a week she'd argued, and stormed and fought the idea, but she finally gave in, exactly as George knew she would.
He'd gotten the singles through bar pickups mostly, promising them something very different. So George got the best of everything, fucking them first until he was sated, and then using them to swap.
George happened to be a very good salesman, in the insurance business and in the screwing business. Although he was a sloppy, inconsiderate husband, a lousy father, and told the same dumb jokes over and over and over, he was one hell of a salesman-his mission in life.
In fact, it was a remarkable feat that George had ever talked his wife into it. Sheila had a strict religious upbringing and felt it was immoral to even get his long dick near her voluptuous ass. But she'd been strikingly beautiful when George met her fourteen years ago, a lush, leggy blonde and a virgin at twenty-one.
By Christ, he'd done the greatest sales-job of his life and talked her into marrying him.
Only those customers of George who knew just how hot a salesman he was understood how he'd gotten a knockout like Sheila. It wasn't his looks, although he wasn't ugly. It sure as hell wasn't his manners or his charm or the loud checkered suits he wore, which proved he had to be color blind if nothing else. And it couldn't be George's brains, because in some ways he could be very dumb, although he did get occasional flashes of genius-like the one about his daughter and the lovely little thing he'd seen in the living room earlier.
Had George not been a super-salesman he would have certainly gone through life a complete dud, married to some other shapeless dud.
But because he could be very persuasive when he had to, George made an excellent living in a tough business. He got more ass than he could handle-although they always left him quiekly after the first or second time, seeing through his glib bullshit. And he had managed to end up after all this time with a wife that was still a hard-on inspiring blonde, a very cute daughter and a wild idea, which if it worked out would place George squarely in Teenage Pussy Heaven.
Vera was coming in his mouth again, he suddenly realized, as she swung her ripe ass furiously and gushed hot pussy-juice on his cheeks. Screaming low in her throat as George pumped his finger lustfully deep in her tender asshole, Vera released her iron grip on his prick. She was quickly rewarded with a torrent of boiling come, wild gushes of jism which she gulped down with raw moaning greed.
And just in time, too, George thought with shaky relief as she pulled her sweating soft thighs from his face. He gulped great lungfuls of air, feeling as if he'd almost been strangled by crazed cunt. But once the feverish brunette got her lewd mouth on your cock, you were hooked.
"Great blow job," he gasped.
"You weren't bad yourself, Georgie," she said, her sleek ass bouncing as she got up and poured two more martinis from the pitcher she'd brought in the bedroom. Vera had always prided herself on being a perfect hostess. She would provide a guest with everything they needed-including all the hot, wanton sex they could handle.
All she asked in return was that you eat her relentlessly throbbing cunt before you put anything else up there. And that ritual had begun when a tall, curvaceous stewardess had met Vera at a party, taken her back to her motel room and sucked the raving brunette off until she thought she would die at the tender age of nineteen.
Up until then, Vera had only made it with boys and men, so many she couldn't remember them all. But the lust-crazed stewardess had changed her life. The tall, foxy blonde wasn't just luscious to look at and hungry for pussy. She was an artist, a breathtaking poet when it came to cunt-sucking. She was a thrilling, muff-diving maniac who couldn't get enough and who would drive you into a padded cell if you dared to come back after that first shattering night.
Like a lot of wives who were into swapping, Vera was a switch-hitter who swung with equal lust with either sex, which was primarily why her husband married her. She was, as George accurately guessed, an irritating, high-strung bitch to live with. But she was also a fantastic fuck and a fabulous asset when it came to swapping. Other husbands instantly sensed she was a terrific lay, and therefore Vera and her husband had more action than they could handle when it came to willing volunteers.
What George, in his blissful ignorance, did not know was that Vera did not particularly want to go to bed with him. But once her husband saw Sheila, that was it. He had to have the hotly curved blonde, even though Vera sensed she might have sex hang-ups, might even be frigid, deep down.
As always, Vera's judgment was amazingly accurate.
But the slender, wild-lipped brunette had run into wives like Sheila before and she knew how to handle them perfectly. She had, most of the time, the perfect cure for inhibited, hung-up women.
Herself.
And it was obvious to Vera from the moment she saw George's wife that she was new at the game, and that she was frightened. There was a very good chance she would back down, which would send Vera's husband into a rage.
Vera chuckled out loud, making George look at her curiously.
Because, if the hot, swinging brunette was right, her asshole husband would come running to her for help, his big dick in one hand, the other waving madly in the air.
Beside her, George stirred eagerly as his prick pounded, fully erect once more. "How do you want it, baby?" he said hoarsely to Vera.
"I think we'd better not start just yet." She grinned at him.
His eyebrows rose. "Why not?"
"Because," she said sweetly, flicking her finger sharply at his hard-on to make him gasp. "If my calculations are right, honey, my husband is gonna come bursting in here in about one more minute."
"For what, for Christ's sake?" George exploded.
She sighed, staring at him somberly. "Shit, you really aren't too bright, are you, Georgie? I mean, you're cute and you eat a mean pussy, but goddamn, are you blind too?"
George shook his head, utterly baffled. "I don't get it, Vera. What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Your wife, dummy. She's sick."
"She is?" George sat up, startled. "What's wrong with her?"
"She's hung up," Vera said with contempt. "She doesn't want to swap and swing, and she won't either. She's sick in the head, which is a shame with that gorgeous body. But don't you worry, Georgie, Vera will fix everything. Christ, if I charged for stuff like that I'd be richer than Bank of America."
Before George could reply to that one, there was a violent knock on the door. Vera's husband came striding in, his face flushed with rage. He wore a towel around his trim, athletic body and he was glaring at George.
Vera turned to George, too. "See what I mean?" she said sweetly. "Right on schedule.".
"Goddammit, what kind of a deal is this?" Lloyd snapped. "You said everything was fine, George, that she'd swing like a maniac. She won't even let me get it in, for Christ's sake! What kind of a shitty trade is that?"
"Now you just calm down, partner," Vera said, getting off the bed and reaching for her robe. "Just leave me alone with her for an hour, and everything will be fine. Maybe," she added softly, her eyes gleaming, "better than fine. This is the kind of challenge I love!"
She strode out of the room, leaving the two men gaping behind her.
When it came to sex, Vera was the ultimate repair service. She used a combination of shrewd psychology, hungry lips, long, lascivious tongue, hot insatiable pussy and everything else she could bring to bear. If it was fixable, Vera would fix it.
And even if she didn't, she always got her rocks off wildly in the process of trying.