Chapter 10

"WELL, HOW WERE THEY, OLD BUDDY?" TOM asked Andy over drinks the next afternoon. "Do they swing or don't they?"

"Who're you talking about?" Andy responded casually, as he sipped from his glass.

"You know who the hell I'm talking about. The Nay-lors, of course! Would they go for a swap?"

"They went for it," Andy said.

Tom's face lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning. "And you screwed that hot blonde?"

"I screwed her," Andy confirmed.

"How was she?" Tom gripped his arm. "Man, how was she?"

"Great. How would you think?" It bugged Andy a little to have the other man questioning him this way about Helen. It wasn't right somehow.

"You're not stringing me," Tom said. "You really screwed her?"

"I did!" Andy said, raising his voice a little.

But no one overheard. The bar was noisy.

Tom was grinning from ear to ear. "Look, you've gotta set up another party with the Naylors and invite Eloise and me."

"I don't know if they'd go for that."

"Why not? Shit, if they'd swap with you and Liz, they'll swap with another couple, won't they? It isn't as if Eloise and I are dogs."

"I know, Tom, but ... " "But what?"

"Okay," Andy said with a sigh. "I'll see what I can do."

"That's the boy!" Tom clapped him on the shoulder.

Andy watched the other man as he downed, the remainder of his drink in a single gulp, then signaled the waitress for another round.

Swapping was great fun, but, like other forms of fun, it could be overdone. It seemed to Andy that it would be overdoing a good thing to rope Helen and Jerry in on a swap party with the Bairds. But he didn't see any way of getting out of it. Tom had put him up to propositioning the Naylors in the first place, and it was well understood at the time that if Andy succeeded in getting them to swap, Tom was to get second crack at Helen.

How would she respond with Tom, Andy wondered. Would she enjoy Tom as heartily as she had enjoyed him? Would she praise Tom as much? Would she use on Tom the oral technique he had taught her?

Hell.

He would wind up with Eloise again, Andy assumed. She wasn't the world's worst throw in the hay, but she was older and softer and sloppy when she was drunk. She probably would get stinking drunk at the next party, just as she had at the last.

However, it was the thought of Tom with Helen that really bugged him. Tom and his overeducated tongue!

That night Andy talked with Liz about the idea, and she was agreeable. Eager would be a better word. He didn't like that, either.

He would have preferred to see Helen alone, but that was strictly against the understanding he had with Liz, on which they had embraced swapping as a cure for their marital ills. Was the cure now getting out of hand? Was he unable to follow the directions on the package?

And what about her and that Lesbian stunt she had pulled? He would have to watch her closely at the next party.

The first question that arose after Liz agreed to a swap party with the Naylors and the Bairds together was: Who would pass the invitation to the Naylors? Should Liz call Helen or Andy call Jerry?

"You and Helen got along so well, why don't you do it?" Andy suggested, deliberately applying a barb.

Either the barb didn't hurt Liz or she chose not to admit it.

She said, "You invited Jerry to the first party. I think you should contact him again."

"But really it's his turn to invite us, if they want to swap again. That's why it would be awkward for me to call him. But you could talk with Helen informally."

"Why the hell should we worry about formality after the way we all screwed around together?"

"Well, it would just be smoother if you talked with Helen," he insisted.

"Are we going to have them over here again?"

"I thought we would meet at a restaurant, then let Tom suggest we all go to his place."

"That sounds better," Liz said. "And, incidentally ... I want Tom, not Jerry."

"You can't have dibs on anybody in advance."

"But Jerry's awful!" she complained.

Andy sighed. "Tom wants Helen."

"Sure," Liz' voice sank. "I should have known."

He was tempted to suggest that she could make a play for Eloise-but what if she agreed? Anyway, that would leave him up the creek.

"Maybe Jerry's improved since last time," he suggested.

"I wouldn't bet on it. He's a rabbit type."

"Well ... we have to go through with this thing. I'm committed to Tom."

"I'd like to do it with Tom again," Liz said. "Jerry's the hang-up."

"We can't have Helen at the party without Jerry."

Liz looked at him intently. "Why not?"

"Helen without Jerry? That would undermine the whole idea of the swap."

"So what? Helen would agree-I'm sure she would. She really liked you, darling." Liz's eyes twinkled.

"And you," he might have added, but he didn't.

"Three women and two men would be awkward," he said.

"Oh, I don't know..." He was thinking about it.

That night at the Naylors' house, Helen sat alone.

Jerry had called and said he had to work late, but she suspected he was stepping out on her. He was so handsome and personable that he wouldn't have any trouble making a date for himself if he wanted to. She feared she had given him an excuse to do just that by the way she had acted last night.

But she wouldn't have done anything differently if she could have lived it over. It was his fault, not hers, that he was so inhibited.

She kept thinking of Andy. If only she could get together with him tonight ...

Helen's suspicion about her husband was not misplaced. He was out with another woman-a stenographer who worked in his office.

She was young and cute, with brown hair and warm eyes to match. Her name was Barbie Lewis.

He took her to dinner, then to a bar for a couple of drinks. When he judged she was just woozy enough, he leaned close to her in the booth land placed his hand on her nyloned knee under the table.

"Let's go some place where we can be alone, baby," he murmured.

"You mean, like your place?" (She was new at the office and didn't know he was married.)

"I mean like a cozy little motel."

"Sounds like fun," she admitted.

His blood pressure advanced and his cock gave an anticipatory throb. "Come on," he said, and started to get up.

"I ... really shouldn't."

He settled down and slid his hand over her knee again. It was dark in the bar. He decided he should feel her up a little. He'd had experience with girls like this-all they needed was some coaxing and enough petting to lather their pussies.

"You like me, don't you?" he whispered, as his hand slid slowly up her stockinged leg.

"Yes." She didn't try to push his hand down.

"I like you a lot," he said. "You're the prettiest girl in the office. I've been trying to get up the nerve to ask you for a date ever since you started work there."

"Have you ... really?"

His hand slid higher on her leg. Still he hadn't reached a stocking-top. He guessed she was wearing panty hose.

"You're very sweet," he said. "I get all hot and bothered when I'm close to you." He stroked her inner thigh carefully. "Want to see how excited I am?"

"Well, I don't know..."

He took his hand from under her dress, grasped her hand and carried it under the table to his lap. His cock was hard in his clothes, and he placed her hand on the hump in his pants.

"Oh, Jerry."

She moved her fingers of her own accord, feeling the size and firmness of his prick. "So, let's go, shall we?"

"But we hardly know each other." She kept feeling him. "This is our first date."

He placed his hand on her leg again, and this time he ran it all the way up to her crotch. She was very warm there, and very plushy on the other side of the clinging nylon.

"Jerry!" She gasped. "Oh, Jerry!" She gripped his cock hard.

"Let's get out of here," he husked, and made a move to rise.

"You can't get up like that!" she protested.

"It's dark in here," he said. "As soon as I start to walk, I'll be all right."

She stood up with him and preceded him out of the bar. He felt her ass in the parking lot and pulled her against him when they were next to his car. He kissed her deeply, screwing her with his tongue.

Jerry was very good with preliminaries like that, when he was trying to seduce a girl. He had learned that those techniques worked, and he practiced them well. But once he got the girl into bed, he did only what he wanted to do. It was up to her to grab a climax if she could. Fast girls could make it (though they weren't thoroughly satisfied) and slow ones were left waiting at the station.

Tonight he wanted to redeem himself in his own eyes-to score quickly and solidly with a new, attractive chick. He merely assumed she would be pleased.

After all, there was no reason to think Barbie had been spoiled, as Helen was spoiled by Andy.

It was a short drive from the bar to the motel, and Barbie sat close to him, her firm warm thigh pressing his own. When they reached the place, he left her in the car while he entered the office and registered. There was no problem. In less than five minutes, they were together in a pleasant little bedroom, with the door closed.

Now it was time for the rabbit to jump.

Jerry took Barbie in his arms and French-kissed her. His hand closed around one of her pliant tits which, even though it was brassiered, responded excitingly to his squeezing grasp.

"Mmmmm ... Jerry..." she purred, when he let her go. Her head was reeling sensuously.

He lowered her to the bed.

If she anticipated a prolonged and tender wooing, she soon found she was mistaken. Jerry immediately pushed up her skirt and slip, gripped the top of her panty hose and pulled them down, baring her white rounded belly, her brown bush and the split curve of her pussy.

He pulled the panty hose all the way, taking them off with her shoes, and now she was bare from her toenails to her waist.

"Jerry! Oh, you're such a caveman!" She giggled, though she was disturbed by the crassness of his onslaught.

He paid no attention, but went ahead according to his fashion. He opened the top of her two-piece dress and took that off, after which he removed her pink lacy bra.

Her titties quivered in white, cone-like nakedness, the light-pink nipples at their crests growing hard before his eyes.

He gave those tits a quick pawing and liked the jellied quiver of them. He liked it so well that, instead of playing with them longer, he stood up and began to shuck off his own clothes.

Barbie watched him for a few moments, then turned her head and let her eyes fall closed. She wanted to imagine this on a more romantic level.

Jerry didn't give her time to construct a fantasy, however. He stripped to his shorts and socks with lightning speed, then fell io the bed, rolling her into his arms ... feeling her thighs and ass ... getting his fingers into her hairy, warm crotch ... parting the lips of her pussy...

The little warm crevice was slick with her excitement. As he sucked on a titty, he let a finger glide in and out of her quim, riding the film of her passion.

Her pleasure took a strong upward surge. This was the kind of playing she especially liked. A man could diddle her this way all night, if he wanted, and she could take a number of small climaxes before she built up to the big one.

But Jerry didn't frig her pussy for long ... and, as tasty and quivery as her titty was, he didn't keep sucking it. His prick was hard as stone and sticking way out, its purplish knob throbbing. He had to sink that into Barbie's cunt.

He scrambled atop her, his rod sticking out through the fly of his shorts. He had neglected to remove her skirt and slip; they remained rumpled around her middle.

He tilted his stiff prick down to the expanded entrance of her vagina. His cockhead breached the moist velvet gate.

"Oh, hon-ey," Barbie crooned.

He shoved his pecker, sinking it deeply into her snug, slick cunt. He pulled immediately and thrust again, sinking deeper yet.

"Oh, Jerry!"

Now he really started to pump, driving hard into her, pulling back, and driving into her again rapidly, briskly, stopping the sensitive ridge of his penis against the walls of her vagina.

Barbie moved with him a little-but she didn't want to help him to the finish too fast.

He didn't need her help, however. When he was this high, his own vigorous stroking was all he required in order to reach a prompt, spurting climax.

As he tightened, jerked and began to empty his warm wet load into her, Barbie quaked inwardly and came softly. Warmth suffused her body. It was good. Not great, but good. She hugged him.

By the time Jerry got home, Helen was in bed and she pretended to be asleep. There was no point in talking with him. He would only lie, if he answered her questions at all.

But she knew where he'd been and what he'd been doing. She didn't know whose apartment or what motel he'd been in, but that didn't matter. The identity of the female didn't matter, either.

The fact that he'd been out with some woman--screwing her, no doubt-was the shattering truth which Helen couldn't ignore and which no amount of lying or evasion on his part could set aside.

What was she going to do about it? That was the question.

The fact that she and Jerry didn't have any children made it simpler than it would have been otherwise. Or did it? If there were children, Helen's decision would almost be made for her: She would have to remain with Jerry for her children's sake. He didn't make enough money to provide ample separate maintenance. As it was, however, she was in a position to do whatever she wanted-remain with him or leave. She had only herself to consider.

What did she really want to do? She puzzled over it until finally she dropped off to sleep. The question remained unanswered.