Chapter 14
Two weeks later, when Matt Tilden went on his vacation, he served notice on his honey-haired wife Dorothy that he was going to exercise his privileges in the Spanking Society, Ltd. by dating Marge Caspar, and that he would have absolutely no objections if she wanted to spend the evening with Jack. Dorothy Tilden had by now more than made up with her handsome husband, thanks to Ella Courtney's diligent Lesbian seduction. Matt had thoroughly convinced her by the animated way he had gone about spanking and fucking her that she was still the one and only in his life and that, even if he should stray on occasion, he would return to her so long as she kept up his interest.
The second spanking, by the way, had not taken place at Jack Caspar's party. It happened after Matt had got his wife home from the shindig, at which time she had tried to start her argument about him and Joanne Purviss. To her consternation, he hadn't bothered to reply to it, but had simply lifted her up in his arms, carried her into the bedroom, swiftly and expertly undressed her down to garter belt and hose, and then, sitting astride her back as he bent her over the edge of the bed and crushing her titties down with his full weight, begun to slap her jouncy bottom until she howled for mercy. After that, he had pulled her onto the bed and flung himself upon her and given her her second fucking of the night. And to her own excitement and amazement, slim tall Dorothy had found herself carried off into a state of almost primitive passion, in which she was clawing and biting and kicking and twisting as he thrust his vigorous prick to and fro inside her responsive cunt.
In the meantime, May Sumners, hoping to induce Dave Wormsley into an affair with her on the strength of having seen him at the motel with a woman she knew wasn't his wife, had slyly phoned his wife. Unfortunately for her, June Wormsley had been home and answered the phone; and when May had cattily begun to dish the dirt, pert, newly liberated Junie had told her off but good.
"Of course he wasn't out with me, and I know all about it, Mrs. Sumners," she had drawled. "And it's really none of your business. You see, we've got an understanding between us. I pick the girls he can go to bed with besides me, and he does the same for me when it comes to other men. And I don't think you're going to be included on the list, Mrs. Sumners, I'm awfully sorry. So you'd better not call again, or I'll just tell Dave what a conniving bitch you really are. I don't think he'd ever want to go to bed with you. Goodbye now."
When she had told Dave that night about May's call, he had roared with laughter, turned her over his lap, pulled up her dress and slip, fucked down her skimpy panties (for these days she was wearing the most suggestive lingerie she could buy in Glendview), and spanked her till she squealed and sniffled, after which he consoled her by gamahuching her and then fucking her till they both exploded in ecstatic climax.
As for Ella Courtnay, she had asked her uncle whether he minded her having some fun with either Dave or Matt or Pete, and he had told her to go right ahead but just not to get into trouble. The one no-no of the Spanking Society, Ltd. was that no homes were to be broken up as a result of the congenial spanking and wife swapping which was incorporated into the bylaws. And in return, Ella had a most interesting piece of news for her uncle. Her father's brother's daughter Margaret, nineteen and extremely vivacious, had written her a letter in care of Jack Caspar's address, and hinted that she was finished with some special junior college courses and wondered if she could stop by on her way to California and maybe spend a few days with her favorite cousin.
Margaret Gorton was, Ella hinted to her uncle, just as much a swinger as she was. In fact, what Margaret's folks didn't know was that she was going to California to shack up with a fellow she had met the summer before when the family had vacationed at Kennebunkport, Maine. He was a Stanford senior, quite well-to-do, and Margaret had lost her cherry to him and wanted a good deal more of the same.
"And there's something else you ought to know, Uncle Jack," his black-haired niece had told him, "Margaret and I had girlie fun together for about a week when she and my uncle and aunt stayed with us over the Christmas holidays, in Cleveland. You ought to throw another stag party like that last one, and I bet the two of us could really put on a show."
Needless to say, Jack Caspar urged her to phone her cousin and invite Margaret to spend at least a week with him and Marge. And in turn he tipped off his good friends Pete and Matt and Dave ...
Ella Courtnay had reluctantly agreed to go to a movie and leave the Caspar bungalow on Cedar Street alone to Marge, since her uncle was paying a visit on Dorothy Tilden over at the Tilden house. She really would have preferred to stay and watch the fun, but Jack had told her to make herself scarce just for once. Dorothy and Marge were, he had explained, not entirely converted to the ways and foibles of this intimate little neighborhood group, and her presence might just have the wrong effect on her aunt, who was about to be initiated into her first extramarital affair ...with, of course, his delighted authorization.
So Ella put on her hot pants and knee-length white calfskin boots and a peekaboo blouse and sauntered over to the shopping center and then on to the Glendview Theater to see "Love Story," which bored her to tears.
As she was coming out of the movie, a car horn blared at her from the curb and Dame Wormsley called out to her, "Hey, Ella honey, want a lift?"
"Who's that ...oh, hi, Dave, honey! Thanks a lot! What a lousy movie I just saw!" she giggled as she opened the door and scrambled in. "What are you doing downtown here this time of night?"
"Junie had to fly out to see her mother in St. Louis. She's got a bad case of the virus, but I'm sure she'll be okay. Of course, Junie was worried, so I told her to go on ahead."
"Well now, so you're a bachelor then?"
"Looks that way. Why aren't you out with your aunt and uncle?"
"Silly! They've got something going on their own and they didn't want me around."
"Oh, I get it. You mean Marge...."
"Uh-huh. With Matt Tilden. And I guess Uncle Jack is taking care of Dorothy. And I'm at loose ends." She looked at him expectantly, her soft red lips curving in an enticing smile. "You're a real handsome guy, Dave. I noticed that at the party. How'd you like to take me home with you tonight?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Of course I'm not kidding," she said indignantly. "Or are you just saving it for the other wives and Junie? I don't think Uncle Jack would mind, because it's still sort of in the family you might say. And anyhow, we don't have to tell him, do we? You know, I'm old enough, and I swing, and I haven't had any guy really give it to me since I came to this dead little suburb. You don't want to spoil my summer, do you, Dave?"
"Perish the thought!" He eyed her voluptuous young titties and glanced down at her bare thighs. "You just talked yourself into a date, baby. Let's go. Want a drink first at one of the nightspots? There aren't very many here, it's true, but there's one good cocktail lounge . .
"Uh-uh. If you've got something at home, I'd like that a lot better. Don't let's waste time. I'm supposed to get back home a little after midnight, and that would mean I'd have to sit through that awful picture again, and I just couldn't take it, It's so weepy and obvious. I like a happy ending, like in bed, don't you?" She put her hand on his thigh and he gasped as he felt his prick harden in response.
"I'm with you all the way, Ella," he panted, as he squeezed that soft roving hand.
A few minutes later, sitting side by side on the couch in the living room, Ella and Dave decided that they didn't really need a drink. She'd had a cigarette, and crushed it out the moment he turned to her. Her mouth glued to his, her tongue began to probe as her hands grasped his sides while his cupped first her titties, then moved down to her bare thighs and stroked them, till she began to shiver and sigh.
And a few minutes later, both of then naked, Dave was abandoning himself to the delicious fantasy of having a harem girl servicing him to prepare him for voluptuous excitement as Ella knelt between his legs and Frenched him just to the point of bursting.
Then teasingly, lifting her head and pinching his prickhead till he groaned in pain, she whispered, "I want to save it for inside of me. Don't you?"
No answer was needed to that as Dave Worms-ley grabbed for her and pulled her down atop him. And then Ella Courtnay, winding herself round him like an eel, began to arch and lower her voluptuous behind as she impaled herself frantically on his rigid dart. It was considerably after midnight when they finally left the bed and dressed and Dave Wormsley dropped her off at the bungalow on Cedar Street ...
Marge Caspar had been in a tizzy deciding what to put on to greet Matt Tilden. She had finally decided on a black satin negligee, high-heeled pumps, and nothing else. She was afraid .that if there was a lot to take off, her courage might wane and she might not be able to go through with it. Just the same, she was quivering with excitement as the doorbell rang and she hurried to admit honey-haired Dorothy's handsome husband.
"You take a man's breath away with that outfit, Marge," Matt Tilden hoarsely complimented her, as he closed the door and took her into his arms. "I wanted to do this a lot sooner than now, you can bet on that. Good old Jack, thinking up an arrangement like this! He's what I call a real wife-saver!"
"Hold me, Matt, don't talk, just hold me! I ... I never did anything like this before ...and I...I don't know how to behave...." Marge faltered.
"Just be yourself, that's the only rule we've really got. Mmmmmm, what big firm lovely bubbies you've got, Marge girl ...I can hardly wait to get you in bed. Why don't we go there right now, before you've got time to think it over?" he urged.
To her secret delight, he stooped down, caught her up in his arms and lifted her, then bore her into the bedroom. A moment later, blushing furiously, she was looking through half-closed eyelids as he stripped, his sturdy body already evidencing his passion for her. She gasped as she saw his prick bob between his legs as he strode to the bed, and then his deft fingers were unfastening the negligee and she found herself eagerly helping him to pull it off and let it fall to the floor. She groaned as his mouth found her belly, and then moved downwards till suddenly she cried out as she felt him begin to gamahuche her. With that prelude, all her inhibitions vanished. Moaning, eyes closed, her hands cupping her panting titties, Marge Caspar writhed on the bed, her knees swinging wide, as he drew her towards a high pitch before at last mounting he with a savage thrust that drew a wild and feverish cry of rapture from the naked, brown-haired matron.
Dorothy Tilden wore a green housecoat, open-toe sandals, and she was blushing, too. This was entirely new to her, and the only thought that made her ready to acquiesce to sturdy Jack Caspar was the knowledge that Matt was probably at this very moment having his fun with Jack's wife. They had signed a peace-pact between them, and she had promised faithfully never to nag him again about other women; and he had told her that so long as she had her fun with Pete and Jack and Dave, he'd confine his to their wives and that was a promise. Well, she knew how virile he was and how he could thrill her in bed, so she could understand that a man sometimes had to have a little variety. At least it was better knowing where he was at a given time and that he wasn't out chasing some widow like that Joanne Purviss who might try to get her hooks into him for good.
A few moments later, Dorothy Tilden was no longer standoffish about her first extramarital lover. She was vying with him frantically, her arms and legs clamped round him, her mouth bruising his with her avid kisses, panting, "Oh, give it to me! Oh, it's so good, oh, darling! Oh, Jack, I'm going to faint, it's wonderful!"
The founder of the Spanking Society, Ltd. had just put his own original theories to the test and made them work with a most dubious member of the organization!
Jack Caspar could sense that Dorothy Tilden was a bit hesitant, and so he, too, decided on direct action. "Let's have a drink first before we get better acquainted, Dorothy, honey," he chuckled, as he put his arms around her and kissed her hard on the mouth.
"All ...all right, Jack. I ...I hope I come up to your expectations...."
"You will. Just seeing you in that slinky housecoat is giving me ideas already. Want me to show you now?"
"Oh no ...I ... I think I'd like a drink first, if you don't mind," she quavered, backing away.
He lit a cigarette and sat down on the living room couch. A few minutes later she returned with two highballs, and while he drank his slowly, he noticed that she gulped hers down and looked, uncertain and uneasy. The ice had to be broken, and he thought he knew just how to do it. Matt, of course, had told him of the aftermath of the shindig, and how a spanking had brought Dorothy around to understanding the facts of life and of being quite willing to go along with them.
"Say," he growled in feigned irritation, "what are you sitting over in that chair for, away from me? I thought this was a hot date tonight, but maybe I was mistaken."
I ...oh, I ...I', sorry...."
"Well, you ought to be. Come over here to me, Dottie!"
"All ...all right, J. . Jack. But please ...please don't rush things, please, I ...I have to get used to this...."
"I'll help you. This way!" He took hold of her wrist and, before she was prepared for what he had in mind, yanked her down across his lap and over the couch. Then he set to work divesting her of the satin housecoat while she cried out indignantly. But in a few moments, she was naked, and her long legs were kicking up and down on the couch and his left arm was round her waist and his right hand was coming down hard on first one satiny bottom-cheek and then the other.
By the time her bottom had been uniformly covered with angry red splotches, and she was really crying, Jack Caspar stopped. It had been all that he could do to hold back his spunk while she was wriggling over his lap and grinding her crotch against his agonized prick. Rolling her over onto her back on the couch as he got up, he began to strip naked; while Dorothy Tilden, one hand under her and rubbing her bottom, hid her eyes with her other arm and continued to sniffle.
"Let's see if that warmed you up any, Dottie, baby," he said hoarsely, as he sank down on her. Kneeing apart her thighs, his hands gripping her titties, he bent his head down and kissed her hard on the mouth as he stabbed for her cunt with his rigid ramrod. Dorothy squirmed and tried to get out from under him, but he managed to insert himself and then flatten himself over her as he thrust home to the roots. Dorothy Tilden's eyes rolled, and she gasped and sobbed, and then his hands were under her, squeezing her sore bottom, and he was beginning to fuck her with a rhythmic pace that wakened all the woman in her.