Chapter 1

The door to Martin Henry's cubbyhole office swung abruptly open. A big, blonde woman pushed her head inside.

"Sorry, I should have knocked, but I'm looking for my husband, you know, Teddy Holman. I'm his wife," Betty Holman said.

"Yes, I know who you are, and no, I haven't seen Mr. Holman," Martin Henry said.

"Don't I know you?" Betty Holman said, stepping inside the stuffy little room.

"We've met a couple of times. I talked to you for a few minutes at the last office party."

"Yeah, I remember, you were with your pretty little wife." She pushed the door closed and sat down in a straight-backed chair, the only furniture besides Martin's desk and chair. "I wonder where the hell Teddy is. He can sure make himself scarce around here."

"I really wouldn't have any idea," Martin said, "I'm not in his department." He grinned, watching the big woman light a cigarette. She was a fine-looking woman, tall, graceful, and very blonde. She had exceptional legs, long and smooth and shapely. She was good-looking, too, and right in her prime at thirty-seven.

Betty crossed her legs, knowing how good they were, and let her skirt ride well up her thighs. She puffed deep on her cigarette, letting the blue haze float from her nostrils. "Shit, I've got to find that man. I forgot my checkbook and I want to buy some booze for a party Friday."

The Holman's parties were legend at Patterson Industries; they were swinging parties, and to be invited meant good fucking for sure. Martin licked his dry lips and stole a glance at the choice flesh showing above Betty Holman's knees. He would give his left nut to be invited. Because Betty Holman's cunt had to be right next to heaven. He felt his cock growing stiff and uncrossed his legs to prevent a cramp.

As if reading his mind, Betty Holman said, "You know, I think I'll invite you and that little mouse you call your wife to one of our parties. We are definitely in need of some new blood, new warm bodies, actually."

Martin colored slightly, not expecting his thoughts to be called. "Well, I don't know if my little mouse would accept. She's not a swinger," he said.

"Are you intimating that our parties are...." Betty said. "Oh, no, no, I didn't mean...."

"I know what you meant, you naughty boy." She fidgeted in her chair, raising her skirt higher. "This damn chair is not the most comfortable in the world, and your little office is hot. I need a drink. Do you have a bottle?"

"No," Martin said.

"You'll never be an executive," Betty said. She got quickly to her feet. "I've got to find Teddy."

Martin jumped up and came around his desk. "I ... I wish I could help you," he stammered.

Betty stubbed her cigarette in the heaped ashtray on Martin's desk. "I wish you could, too," she hissed, stepping up next to him. She slid her arms over his shoulders and pulled him close.

"Why don't you kiss me?" she said.

She didn't wait for Martin and pressed her mouth over his. She had her mouth partly open and let the tip of her tongue tease his lips. She had already been drinking, Martin could taste it. And he could feel her luscious titties as they pressed hard against his sweaty chest. And then he felt her cunt-mound against his crotch. He kissed her hard, his tongue going into her mouth, and let his hands fall to her ass. It felt firm and round, the cleft deep when he let his fingers press in.

"Oh, fuck, I like that," she mumbled into his mouth. She let her hand slide down between their bodies and gripped his cock through his pants. "Nice," she sighed, "I think I want some of that ... soon. Can you talk the little mouse into dropping over Friday evening? You might get home by Sunday."

"Goddamn, yes," he said, figuring he would go alone if Eva wouldn't.

"Don't come alone, though," Betty said, again reading his thoughts. "We want only couples. Teddy has to have someone while you're fucking me."

Martin almost came in his pants. "Of course I'll bring the mouse," he said.

Betty stroked his cock a couple of times and pulled away. "I really have to go and find Teddy. And besides, if I keep playing with your cock you're going to come in your pants." She quickly opened the door and stepped into the hall. "Hope to see you Friday," she said, and was gone.

Martin shoved the door closed and sat down behind his desk, his hand rubbing his aroused cock. He thought of jacking-off, but decided against it. It was his anniversary and Eva and him were going out, to follow with a good fuck. He had to save himself for Eva. It was her good time of the month and she would be expecting his best. They had been married two years. They were still much in love, and the sex was outstanding. He had been with Patterson for two years, also.

Martin Henry loved his wife, and it tore at his innards to think of any other man even touching her, but he had to get into Betty Holman's cunt even if it meant Eva ... no, she wouldn't let old man Holman fuck her even if he did fuck Betty. That wasn't the problem: the problem was getting her to the party. Maybe he would bring home a bottle on Friday and get her a little drunk, or better yet, a whole lot drunk-so drunk she couldn't participate, and he wouldn't have to tell her what kind of a party it was going to be. Yeah, feed her booze until she passed out and then fuck the ass off Betty Holman. He could say Eva got drunk because it was her first party and she was nervous and not his fault she couldn't fuck anyone. He grinned and continued to stroke his big cock.

Eva Henry lay on her back on the bed, her legs in the air. She pulled her pantyhose over her thighs. It was the perfect night for their anniversary-she was prime, hot to fuck, horny as a two-peckered goat. She sensed that Martin was looking at her and glanced at him standing by the bathroom door. His cock was hard.

"Do you like me like this with my legs up in the air?" she said.

"Yeah, but without the pantyhose. You can't get your legs open." He wrapped his hand around his cock. "He wants you, Eva honey."

"I want it," Eva said. "Shall I pull them off?"

"No, honey, let's save it until after dinner, some good champagne, and some real old-fashioned slow dancing. It'll be even better then."

"I don't know if I can wait," Eva said.

"That's what will make it so good. Do you want me to come over and kiss it?"

"Oh, God, Martin," she said, blushing, "yes, but it will make me come ... I just know it." Eva was twenty-three, just two years younger than Martin, and of the right generation, but she had never been with her generation, not realizing how good sex could be until she met and married Martin. She had been a virgin on her wedding night, a real honest-to-goodness virgin. He had kissed her cunt several times, and then one night actually sucked her off. She had come so hard and found fucking so much better afterwards that she wished he would always do it. He didn't always do it, but she always was willing when he did, even though it still embarrassed her a little. He would do it tonight, she was sure, and tingled with the anticipation. "You can kiss it when get home after dinner."

"You want me to?"

"Yes. Maybe at the front door. I'll just lift my dress and push down my pantyhose and let you do it right there."

Martin grinned, his cock throbbing with excitement. She was getting better all the time, more willing, more exciting. He walked over to the bed and looked at her. She still had both legs up in the air, her pussy-lips pressed together, her thick, brown cunt-hair bulging out in every direction. She was a beautiful young woman with soft brown hair and huge blue eyes, but her full, pouty mouth was what really turned him on. Her lips always seemed to be in a pout, almost as if she was about to suck his cock, though she never had. Maybe tonight she would do it; she certainly seemed hot enough. He imagined pouring his cum between her lips and then had to take his hand away from his cock. He realized that he had never actually asked her to suck him. He'd hinted at it, but never really came out and asked. He wrapped his hand around his bursting prick and pointed it at her. "Give it a kiss, honey. Show my cock how you love me," he said.

Eva sat up, blushing. It was the very thing she had been thinking of, lying there staring at the cock-knob thrusting from his fist. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes," he said quickly.

She bent forward, hesitating for an instant, and then planted a big wet kiss on the gooey hole. "It's all wet," she cried.

"That won't hurt you. Good for you."

"I doubt that," she said, but gave it another kiss.

"Suck it a little, Eva," Martin coaxed.

"Oh, Martin, I...." She stopped in mid-sentence, staring intently at the oozing hole. "It's so wet." Still, she puckered and took the tip between her lips. She sucked for a minute, her mouth tinging with the rich, salty taste of his cum, and then backed off. "Don't come, honey ... I'm not ready for that."

"Okay, I'll control myself, just suck it a little more."

She closed over the tip again, sucking, the taste thrilling her. She kept on until she had the whole uncircumcised head in her mouth. Maybe sometime, not now, but sometime she would let him come, she thought. The idea made her heart flutter, her pussy tingle with excitement. She sucked harder.

"Oh, goddamn, baby, that's nice, that's good. I ... I'm awful close. Don't stop...."

But she did stop. She pulled back. "You were going to break your promise, Martin. I told you I'm not quite ready for that."

Martin grinned. "Yeah," he said, "I'm sorry. Let's get dressed and go or we'll never hold out."

"I don't want to hold out," Eva said.

Martin backed off and reached for his shorts on the foot of the bed. "No, we're gonna wait." He wanted to keep her turned on, at bay, wanting it even more than he did. "By the way, I saw Betty Holman today, you know, Teddy Holman's wife. We talked to them at the office party a couple of months ago."

"Yeah, I remember him," she said, sliding her pantyhose into place. "He's a dirty old man. Did you notice the way he looked at me? I felt stark naked."

"Yeah, I noticed," Martin said. "He just likes to ogle pretty young women. Anyway, she invited us to a party at their place Friday night. He's a big wheel at Patterson Industries; it could be a feather in our cap. I'm stagnating in the accounting department."

"A real big feather," Eva said, hooking her brassiere behind her back. "You told me what kind of parties they have."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did. Do you want some old lecher fucking your wife?"

"Hell, no!" Martin said, almost too loudly. "I ... I guess I forgot."

"Like hell you did," she said, enjoying the tinge of jealousy. "You just want to get in that big blonde's pants."

"I don't, I forgot," Martin protested.

"You'd sacrifice your sweet little wife to roll in the hay with Mrs. Holman? She is sexy."

"That's not true. I wouldn't sacrifice you for anyone. I ... I just ... aw, hell, forget that I said anything."

Eva put her arms around her husband. "I was just teasing you, darling. I know you wouldn't sacrifice me. I'm sure you forgot their reputation. They're just rumors, anyway. You never talked to anyone that actually went ... did you?"

"No, of course not. Let's just forget it."

"I'll go if you want." She kissed him, her tongue playing lightly against his lips. "I'll do anything you want. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, honey. We can talk about it another time."

He kissed her long and hard, congratulating himself all the while. He had handled it beautifully, even if he had forgotten that he had told her about the storied Holman parties. She would believe anything he wanted her to, even that he took her home after she passed out. He thought about fucking the lovely Mrs. Holman and his cock stayed hard.

Eva gripped his prick through his shorts. "Let's do it now, honey, let's ... screw," she gasped.

"Later. We'll cap the evening with a perfect fuck," he said.

Eva blushed. Martin rarely used that word to her, and usually it was because he was angry and was using it to vent stream. "Okay, we'll ... do it then." She couldn't say it, not right out of the blue. Maybe in passion, but not just right out.

She wondered about the Holman party, repulsed, but still tingling at the thought. Martin had jokingly mentioned swinging before. Now maybe he wasn't really joking. Her cunt was puffed with blood, fat and excited, wanting stimulation, any stimulation. Could she actually consider doing it with anyone but Martin? She thought not, but the idea was terribly exciting.