Chapter 13
When Dave Wormsley reluctantly parted from Eleanor Dudley, dropping her off at her house before going on to his own, it was close to midnight. He'd taken the precaution of phoning home to see if Junie had sent Pete Dudley away yet, and she had indeed. As a matter-of-fact, he had roused her from a blissful nap, and she had been extremely embarrassed when he'd teased her about being worn out from a little afternoon frolic and reminded her that he was going to be coming home pretty soon and listen to her tell him how Pete had performed. She had gasped and protested that she'd just die of shame if he'd make her do that, but he'd hung up and left her worried about it just the same.
As Eleanor Dudley got out of Dave's car, she whispered, "I'll never forget tonight, lover. It was simply sensational. Now I've got to go check up on Pete and see if he still remembers me."
"I gather that he won't be bothering you much tonight, Ellie baby," Dave Wormsley chuckled. "I called home while you were tidying up, and poor little Junie sounded all honked out. And we'll have to do this again some time soon. You're just terrific in the sack, Ellie."
"You're not so bad yourself, Dave Wormsley," the tawny-haired matron giggled, as she blew him a kiss and then hurried towards the porch of the house.
Dave put the car in the garage, opened the front door, and found his lovely bespectacled brunette wife in a sheer white nightie. The hem reached just about to the middle of her thighs. It was one he hadn't remembered her wearing ever before, and his eyes widened. Although Eleanor's luscious charms had drained him of his vigor for the moment, he nevertheless felt his prick begin to stir and show signs of life again just looking at Junie. Her cheeks were rosy with blushes, and she was looking down at the floor very demure, like a little girl who is being summoned to an accounting by her stern father.
"Hey, where did you get that shortie nightie, Junie? You never wore it before!" he accused. "I ... I went out and bought it, that's what."
"Oh, you did. Hmmmm. Well now, did you and Pete have a good time? What time did he leave?"
"About ...about eight o'clock. And you woke me up."
"I know I did. Well now, how about a drink? Want me to mix one for us both?"
"If you want." She walked over to the couch and sat down with a sigh, and put her arms behind her head and leaned back. It was a highly effective maneuver, and it thrust those magnificent titties of hers tightly up against the sheer stuff of the nightie, and he could see the nipples plain as day. He eyed her for a moment, and went into the kitchen and made two potent daiquiris, brought them back, then sat down beside her and handed her her glass.
"Drink up. It ought to give you courage enough to tell me what went on."
"Oh, Dave!" she gasped. "You ...you're joking, aren't you? You don't expect me to tell you?"
"Sure I do. Just as I expect you to want me to tell you how Ellie and I got along tonight. Boy, is that broad a tigress in bed!"
June Wormsley suddenly glared at him, took a hearty swig of her glass, and set it down on a little table beside the couch. "Now you look here, Dave Wormsley!" she declared. "You're a fine husband, telling everybody you know that I'm no good in bed!"
"Now wait a minute, sweetheart...." he was suddenly thrown on the defensive.
"No, you wait a minute! Pete said you were telling all the fellows at Jack's party that I just laid there and looked up at the ceiling and that I had a terrific shape but I didn't know what to do with it. Well, for your information, Pete thought I was even sexier than his own wife, and that's a fact. You can just ask him. Since you're so good at comparing notes, I want you to!"
"Why, Junie Wormsley! Whatever has got into you!" her husband gasped, setting down his glass and turning to stare at her with newly appreciative eyes. "You mean to say he thinks you're sexy? Sure you are, baby, but the only trouble was, you've got such a terrific shape but I always have to do all the action...."
"That's how much you know!" she flashed. "Maybe it's you, did you ever stop to think of that? Why, Pete made me come a couple of times, and he did things to me you never even thought of. Maybe you know about it all, but you could have shown me, and you could have talked to me about it."
"Well, I'll be damned!" Dave Wormsley breathed. He fumbled in his shirt pocket, took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and continued to star at his new, suddenly liberated female whom he had married and who had just become an exciting stranger. "like what, for instance, did he do to set you off like that?"
"Never you mind. You just better try harder and maybe, because I do love you and I did marry you, I'll show you," she defiantly retorted. Then she began to sniffle.
Instantly contrite, he put his arms around her. "Aw, baby, don't cry, you know I can't stand to see you cry! Come on, Junie, maybe I've been a louse and underestimated you but ...well, I'd had a couple of girls before I married you, only I didn't think you were, well, you know, what I mean to say is, I respected you and I put you up higher than those other broads I laid."
"Maybe that's the trouble!" She shook off his hands and continued to stare at him belligerently. "You know I didn't know anything, because you were my first man. It was up to you to teach me. You could have made anything you wanted of me, but you treated me like I was made of china or something, and fragile; and then you had to go round and tell everybody I was a dud in bed. That's not very gentlemanly, Dave Wormsley."
"All right, so I apologize. Boy, looks like I'd better take some lessons from Pete."
"Maybe you better had. And I suppose you thought that Eleanor Dudley was better in bed than I was, didn't you?"
"Well," he hedged, "she was pretty terrific. And I always did like redheads after brunettes."
"Don't try to get around me that way," she sniffled again. "If you like her so much, why don't you go and have her all the time and Pete can move over here?"
"Now wait a minute!" Dave Wormsley crushed out his cigarette and took her by the shoulders and pulled her towards him, kissing her hard on the mouth. "Now don't go off the deep end, baby. What Jack and Pete, and Matt and I started was just a little, neighborly and very private swapping club. It's not going to go beyond that, and nobody's going to change partners permanently, because I'm still nuts about you. Maybe more than ever, after what you've just told me."
"Oh, I see! Now all of a sudden, because another man thinks I'm terrific, you want to find out why. Not tonight, Dave Wormsley! Maybe not for a good many nights, either. You're going to have to apologize to me and ...stop it! What are you doing? You let go of me ...stop it! I'll go home to Mother if you dare ...oh, no, not my nightie ...Dave, I don't want you to ...stop it! Oohhhhh ! "
Exasperated by her suddenly unamiable attitude, as well as by her provocative beauty in the scant, sheer nightie, Dave Wormsley had proceeded to drag June over his lap, furl up the nightie, to expose her delectably rounded bottom, and then proceeded to lay the flat of his right hand smartly and stingingly on the upturned bare cheeks, despite her cries and struggles and frantic kickings.
When she put back her hands to cover up her burning behind, he grabbed them in his left hand and forced them away from the target, then proceeded to spank even harder and faster till she was wailing for mercy.
"There now!" he panted, as he let go of her wrists. "Just don't forget yourself, baby, because you're still my wife. I just wanted to show you that I'm not treating you like fragile china, either. And if you've got any more arguments, I can always take my belt to that gorgeous ass of yours."
Now June Wormsley lay across his lap, sniffling, her hands reaching back and rubbing her flaming bare behind. But her face was turned back towards him and there was a look of wonder and respect in her big soft blue eyes, and her nostrils were twitching and her lips were quivering and very red. Moreover, her squirming over his lap, while he had been administering the spanking, had reawakened his already vigorously exercised prick to the point that to his own amazement he found himself sufficiently virile to give his wife exactly the convincer she needed.
"So you've learned something, have you?" he growled, as he shoved her off his lap onto the floor where she landed with a thud on her bottom and she let out a frantic wail of dismay and discomfort. "Let's find out just how much!"
So saying, he drew down his zipper and liberated his bulging prick. June Wormsley stared up at him, her mouth agape. "Oh no!" she whimpered faintly.
"Oh yes!" he grimly countered. He reached down, caught her by the armpits and lifted her up to him. Then, tugging off the shortie nightie, he grabbed her titties and forced her to sit down with her back to him and astride his straddled legs. "Now we'll just see if you can take care of a guy now, baby!" he hoarsely told her.
June Wormsley squirmed, her soft pink cunt-lips rubbing over the tip of his rigid weapon. His steely fingers clenched against her panting titties; and she felt warm tides of passion. arise in her again. Closing her eyes and shivering, she squirmed herself a little and made contact between her moist twitching vulva and his cocktip, and then slowly sank down, impaling herself.
"Oh, baby!" Dave Wormsley gasped, leaning back against the couch and drawing her back to him with his hands on her swelling breasts. "Now you've got the idea! Go, tigress, go!"
His right hand descended down her belly, stroking the thicket of black pussy hair; and then his forefinger began to tickle the rims of her distended pussy, which had clamped round his imbedded tool. He found the button of her clitoris and began to rub it delicately.
June Wormsley moaned, her head tilting back; and then she began to arch and lower herself rapaciously on her husband's prick.
"Oh, Dave ... oh, that's so good ... oh, darling. Why didn't you ever do that to me before? Ohhhh, oh, I love you, oh, it's so good, oh, sweetheart! I'm just as good as Eleanor, and I'll make you say so, you watch and see ...oh, darling!"
"You're better than she is right now, just keep it up and don't let it slip out, baby doll!" he hoarsely enthused, as he began to play with her nipple while he continued the frigging of her throbbing clitoris.
Her petite, creamy, naked body squirmed and writhed feverishly; and his aching prick felt the hot, humid friction of her cuntwalls as she raised and lowered herself. The smack of her luscious, reddened bottom against his belly and thighs added an extra stimulus to their carnal reconciliation. And as his left hand worked her tittie, his tongue licked the back of her neck and made June Wormsley moan and whimper with the frantic onrush of lascivious emotions, which brought her to the brink of ecstasy.
With a groan, he felt his last juices ebbing from him, though he had thought that Eleanor had drained him dry. With a cry, he announced his climax to her. "Oh, take it, Junie, baby, take it all now, you sweet bitch!" At the same moment, June Wormsley, sinking down and absorbing him to his very hilt, began to writhe and moan and sob as the walls of her cunt quaked in turbulent orgasm.
Jack Caspar's spanking formula had just been put to the test and found far from wanting!
The founder of the Spanking Society, Ltd. was happily occupied at about the same time. At his suggestion, Ella Courtnay, wearing just her slip and high-heeled pumps, had gone into Marge's bedroom to have a hen fest. He had told his niece to tell Marge that there was something wrong with the lock on the garage door and that he had put off repairing it far too long and that now was as good a time as any. And he'd gone out to the garage all right, and fiddled around with his tools for just enough time to let his sexpot niece lay the foundation for Marge Caspar's indoctrination into switch hitting.
Marge Caspar had, if truth be known, been feeling somewhat neglected. Nobody had really made any overtures to her, at the party, although Jack had intimated to her that he expected her to take just as active a part in their little group as all the other girls did. Secretly she had felt just a little miffed that none of the handsome husbands at the party had really propositioned her, because she'd always wondered what it would be like to have an affair with another man. And the thought that Jack would condone it and even want to know about it, had made the idea seem even more exciting.
"Hi, Ella, how are things going?" Marge Caspar looked up from her dressing table.
"Pretty well. How's it by you, Aunt Marge?"
"Oh, so-so, I guess. Where's your uncle?"
"Fixing the garage lock, Aunt Marge. He says it'll take a while."
"Oh. Well, what did you think of that party?"
"I thought it was just great," Ella giggled, as she stood behind her aunt and put her hands on the brown-haired matron's bare shoulders.
"Marge Caspar was wearing just her bra and panty girdle, having removed stockings and shoes prior to going to bed. She was staring in the mirror, trying to compare herself with the other women at the party. She was also wondering whether Jack's new scheme was going to boomerang on her and leave her with empty-bed blues while he was catting around with Eleanor Dudley, Junie Wormsley and Dorothy Tilden.
"Didn't you have a good time, Aunt Marge?" Ella persisted.
"Only fair. I guess it was a success, to hear your uncle talk."
"I know what's wrong with you, Aunt Marge. You're just jealous because those fellows didn't want to sneak off to a motel with you right away. But they will, you watch and see."
"Ella, what a thing to say! As if I'm that kind of woman..."
"Now don't try to kid me, Aunt Marge. I'm not exactly a square myself. I saw all those fellows looking at you, and it was just because it was all new and starting off that they didn't come right up to you and make dates with you for bed."
"Ella, how you talk!"
"I'd like to go to bed with you myself, Aunt Marge."
This time, Marge Caspar gasped, turned scarlet, and looked at her niece with uncomprehending eyes. "What are you taking about?"
"Just what I said. I'd like to go to bed with you. You mean to say you've never done it with a girl, Aunt Marge?"
"Why, the very idea! Of course I haven't!"
"Then it's high time you tried. Don't knock it till you try it, as the saying goes. You've really got a terrific shape. And such gorgeous skin, too. Why, you don't look any older than I do and that's true."
"Oh, stop your kidding, Ella!" Nevertheless, Marge Caspar could not help blushing and glancing covertly at herself in the mirror as if wanting to verify her niece's statement.
"No, I mean it. I think you're just as sexy as any of those girls, maybe more so. And I'd just love to show you what I mean. Why don't you let me try? Uncle Jack won't be back for a good half hour or so, and I'd like to see what you look like without that bra and panty girdle on."
"Ella! The very idea ...why ...you ...you don't know what you're saying!" Marge Caspar was scandalized.
"Sure, I do. Oh, I guess I didn't tell you. Back in high school, I had a terrific crush on my gym coach, and she was a gorgeous dish, a lot like you. And I went to dinner with her once at her place and she made a pass at me and it was so good that I didn't care about boys for a long time after that," Ella glibly repeated what she had said to Dorothy Tilden at the party.
Marge Caspar stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You mean ...you ...you let a woman make love to you, Ella?"
"Of course I did! It's lovely. And of course there isn't any danger of having a baby or anything like that, and women are lots more tender to one another than a man is to a woman, you ought to know that, Aunt Marge."
"Maybe you're right. Just the same, I wouldn't think of it ...it ...anyhow, what ...what do girls do together? How can they when they don't ...oh, my!" Marge Caspar blushed even more hotly now, furiously embarrassed at the tone this intimate conversation had taken.
Ella Courtnay hurried back to the bedroom door and closed it, then returned to her aunt. Before Marge Caspar could realize what was happening, Ella had unfastened her bra and let it fall, and put her hands on Marge's big, closely spaced round titties and begun to caress them, while she began to kiss the nape of Marge's neck.
"Ella ...what are you doing to me? Oh, stop ...you ...you mustn't! Ella ...whatever's got into you? Please, you're making me awfully embarrassed. Oh, Ella ...please!" the brown-haired matron protested.
But Ella now moved over to Marge's right side, leaned forward and kissed her aunt on the mouth, while at the same time manipulating Marge's nipples with thumbs and forefingers in an exquisitely gentle stroking and milking maneuver. Marge's eyes widened, and for a moment she tried to break her niece's hold on her titties by grasping the girl's wrists, but the young brunette persisted. Now her tongue crept between Marge's lips, and she began to rub her aunt's nipples with just the tips of her forefingers.
Marge Caspar moaned, closed her eyes, leaned her head back, and surrendered to this exquisite titillation. Her nipples had begun to stiffen, and Ella's tongue artfully delved into her mouth, brushing her own tongue and sending currents of sensual awareness through her opulent body.
"Let's get on the bed and be more comfy, Aunt Marge," Ella huskily murmured, things?"
"Oh, Ella ...we mustn't. What if your uncle ... oh, Ella ...wherever did you learn such dreadful things."
"You know they're not dreadful, and you want to find out more about them, don't you, Aunt Marge? Come on, darling, I'm so hot for you I can't stand it. Why should men have all the fun?" Ella Courtnay tempted.
Marge Caspar allowed herself to be led to the bed and there, amid furiously blushing protests, made only token resistance when Ella began to remove the panty girdle and expose the lush carnation-tinted cheeks of her voluptuous ass and the brown fleece which framed her plump cunt-hole. Then, reclining on the bed, an arm up over her face, Marge Caspar surrendered herself, secretly thrilled by her young niece's adulation of her nudity. Ella doffed her slip, and kneeling on the bed, began to stroke her aunt's inner thighs, till instinctively Marge spread her legs. Then Ella bent her head and her soft lips made contact with the pink petals of her aunt's cunthole as she began to gamahuche her. Marge Caspar uttered a cry, raised both knees and swung them widely apart, her fingernails clawing at the sheets.
"Oh, Ella ...what are you doing to me? Oh, that's wicked ... oh, you awful girl you ... oh, lord, how it tickled! Oh, Ella ... oh, Ella! I can't stand it ... oh, darling ...I never thought ...oh, Ella!"
Jack Caspar had tiptoed back from the garage and was waiting outside in the hallway, listening avidly as he heard the scene progress. Now he made ready, undressing to all but his shorts and socks, and when he deemed the moment propitious, stealthily turned the knob of the door and entered. He was able to see his niece muff diving between his wife's widely straddled, upraised legs, while Marge Caspar lay with her arm still over her face and her other hand clawing at the sheets.
"So this is what you girls do when my back is turned!" he called out in a mock-threatening tone.
"Uncle Jack!" Ella Courtnay squealed, pretending to be terrified and leaping up, clapped one hand over her pussy and the other arm over her titties. Marge Caspar uttered a strangled cry of disbelief and shame, promptly clamped her legs together and rolled over onto her side with her back turned towards him.
"Oh, no, you don't, Marge, baby!" he exulted. "So I've caught you both dead to rights. It's going to cost your bottoms a sound spanking, and then a man is going to take over and satisfy those itching pussies of yours!"
With this, he clambered onto the bed, rolled his wife onto her belly, knelt astride her, facing her bottom, and began to spank vigorously. Marge Caspar soon burst into tears and kicked her legs and pleaded for mercy, but he continued until he had administered a furiously crimson hue to both of those opulent ass-cheeks of hers. Then he glared at Ella: "You just wait your turn, young lady."
"Yes, Uncle Jack." Ella Courtnay demurely replied, but she hadn't budged from where she knelt and she had no intention of doing so.
With this, Jack Caspar rolled his wife over again onto her back, unbuttoned his shorts and let his prick stand out in all its vehement rigidity. Then he fell upon her, his hands clutching her titties, and thrust himself against the moist pink gape. With a groan, he felt himself sink to the very hilt, and Marge Caspar began to groan in unison with him, clamping him with arms and legs and kissing him frantically as she tried to explain.
"Oh, Jack, darling! Oh, I didn't mean to ...she's a naughty girl ...she wanted to show me how it was between girls and before I knew it...Oh, Jack! Oh, that's so good ...oh, there's nothing better than that in all the world! Oh, fuck me hard, darling, please fuck me hard and say you're not mad at me P
"Mad at you, Marge, baby?" he paused between prick strokes, to smile down at her flushed, tearstained face. "This is just what I wanted to happen. Now you're really in the groove, Marge, baby. You're just as much a sexpot as anybody in town, and I'm going to see to it that you get all the cock you want, as long as I intend to try out Eleanor and Junie and Dorothy myself. But I want you to be sure that it's okay with you, because if I let you screw around, I want the same privileges ...understood?"
"Whatever you want! Oh, darling, just as long as I'm still your favorite girl in bed," she panted.
"I hope this will show you," he chuckled, as he took her mouth now, thrusting his tongue deeply between her lips, and resumed his vigorous fucking of her tightening, moist sheath.
The spanking and the Lesbian attunement had made Marge Caspar frantically ardent tonight. She rocked and weaved and bucked under him, and before he had intended, he felt himself exploding in her tightening love scabbard. When he finally drew out, with a sigh of contentment, he lay down on his back and stared menacingly at Ella, who had watched the scene with mounting excitement.
"All right, young lady, just for that, before you get your spanking, you can work on my cock and get it ready for your pussy, because I-m going to fuck you after I paddle your cute bare ass!"
"Jack!" Marge gasped.
"She's in on this just as much as you are. And don't think she doesn't want to. For your information, Marge, she came into the kitchen last week and gave me a blow job."
"Ella! You didn't!" Marge raised her head and stared at her lovely naked niece.
Ella blushed and nodded. "He's such a man, I had to, Aunt Marge."
"In that case," Marge Caspar firmly declared as she reached out and gave her husband's limp cock a loving squeeze, I'll help you spank the little bitch myself! Now then, Ella, do what your uncle tells you to, or I'll help him tan your bottom raw!"
Jack Caspar stared at his wife, then guffawed with delight. It was going to be the most delightful hottest summer Glendview had ever known. But the delight and the heat were going to be shared exclusively by the four couples who were the charter members of the Spanking Society, Ltd.
Ella Courtnay moved towards her uncle, bobbed her head down and began to French him, her soft fingertips stroking the insides of his hairy thighs. It didn't take long for him to reestablish his manly vigor, not with the delicious sight of Ella's jiggling titties and his own wife's lush nudity beside him while she fondled him in turn. And then, when his prick was hard again, he sat up, pulled Ella down over his lap and began to spank her lustily, while Marge herself sat up and added a few spanks from her own stinging palm till Ella was really squealing and wasn't play acting in the least as her bottom turned bright pink and them flaming scarlet.
When he felt himself about ready to burst, Jack Caspar stopped the spanking, lay back down and pillowed his head on his arms, and commanded, "Now get over me and fuck me, Ella, and do a good job, or your aunt is going to finish what I started!"
Ella Courtnay needed no second invitation. With a squeal of delight, she put her fingers to her pink cuntlips, opened them, engaged his upstanding ramrod, and sank slowly down as she stretched out over him with a gasp of delight. His legs locked around hers, his hands began to play with her titties as she French-kissed him. And Marge, not to be left out in the cold while this was going on, sat up and continued to apply a few stinging swats every now and then on Ella's upturned, wriggling, flaming bottom must to make sure that her niece would give her beloved husband the sort of servicing he so richly deserved.