Chapter 10
"MAN, I'LL TELL YOU THERE'S NOTHIN' LIKE IT!" Tom exclaimed drunkenly as he sat with two neighborhood friends in the dimly-lit interior of the Drifters. "There you are, lobbin' your meat into another guy's wife an' her husband is jus' a few feet away, screwin' hell outa your old lady! Shit, it's terrific!"
"You mean, you've actually done this?" one of his drinking buddies asked. "Or are you just puttin' us on?"
"Hell, am I a liar? It happened jus' last night." He leaned toward the two listeners confidentially and added, "Right in my house."
"Who was the other couple?" one of the men asked eagerly.
"Aaah," Tom chuckled, "that'd be telling! I got in trouble for sayin' somethin' jus' the other day that I shouldn't have said."
"I heard about that," his friend grinned. "You and Joan Brooks, huh?"
"Yeah. So I'm not shootin' off my mouth any more. But we had a swap party tha' was terrific!" He slopped up some more booze.
The other men looked at each other. One of them said, "You know, I'll bet the other couple at that party was the Brooks. If old Tom's been playin' around with Joanie, her husband probably figured he might as well get a piece of Tom's wife."
"Aw ... guys!" Tom said. "Jus' remember, I didn't tell yuh. I didn't say a fffriggin' thing."
"Sure, Tom," one said, and winked at the other, who grinned broadly.
The word traveled fast from there.
Patty Claiborne heard about it, and she couldn't wait to get together with Joanie. She'd had her eye on the voluptuous brunette for some time but hadn't had the opportunity to close in for the "Kill". An evening's swapfest between the Claibornes and the Brooks might furnish just such a chance. Art would enjoy that, too. Once, when they were vacationing at a resort, he had watched her with another woman and had gotten a charge out of it.
When the pert blonde confronted Joanie with the fact that she had heard the news, Joanie at first was shocked. Then she realized that Tom, most-likely, had been shooting off his mouth while drunk again.
God, Wes had been almost impossible to live with during the last couple of days, suffering as he was from a moral hangover due to the swap, all over town, he would crap his drawers!
"What's the matter, honey?" Patty said. "Don't look so upset. I envy you and your husband, and the Frasers, for being so broad-minded. Art and I are pretty broad-minded ourselves, but we didn't figure there were any other couples in the neighborhood who would care to swing with us."
"You mean, you and your husband ... are interested in ... swapping?"
"We sure are! How about if you and Wes get together with Art and me at our place Saturday? We could have a great time."
"But ... but ... "
"Art's very well hung," Patty added confidentially. "And does he know how to ball a girl! Oh, he'll go crazy over you, sweetie."
But it was Patty who was going slightly crazy at that moment, as she gazed at Joan in her snug shorts and top. Patty was imagining how grand it would be to lick along those sumptuous big thighs and to squeeze those marvelous melon-like tits. Oh, she could kiss Joanie just everywhere, including the backside!
Joan said in confusion, "I'm not sure Wes wants to do it again."
"You mean, he didn't like Kay Fraser? She's a cute little thing."
"He liked her, all right, but he hasn't liked himself very well since."
"Don't tell me he's a prude!" Patty responded. "He tends to be, I'm afraid."
"How'd you ever talk him into swinging the first time?"
"It just sort of happened," Joan said.
Patty smiled wisely. "Well, maybe it could just sort of happen at my house, too. You know ... I've got an even better idea. Instead of just the four of us getting together, why don't we set up a big neighborhood bash? Get everybody in on it. Unless I miss my guess, there are a lot of potential swingers on this street! Now that I know you and the Frasers swing, I could easily believe the same thing of the Morrisons. And how about Pete and Amy Edwards?"
"Oooh, Patty! This is going to get out of hand."
"Don't you worry about that. Just leave everything to me. I'm going to do some circulating and see what I can come up with."
Joan couldn't stop her. The situation was already out of control. Oh, Tom and his big mouth! She could kill him!
Pete Edwards felt like a new man that day. He'd had a date last night with voluptuous, red-haired Charlotte, and what they hadn't done wasn't worth doing! He had proved himself a great lover, three times over.
Or, at least, Charlotte had given every indication that he sent her to cloud nine, and why should he believe that she was putting on? Her obligation to Dr. Holloway didn't go that far, surely.
It was funny, though. Dr. Holloway had set up the date. But that was only because the doctor knew what a nympho she had for a nurse, Pete figured.
His attitude toward himself had done a complete flip-flop. Whereas the other day he had been prepared to believe he was no good between the sheets, and had therefore actually been incapable of performing, now he regarded himself as the greatest gift to women since the birth control pill.
Charlotte had a way of affecting men like that.
As he called on clients during the day, driving from place to place in his car, Pete thought about the night before, reliving the lust-charged moments. His memory painted erotic pictures:
There was Charlie (as she had asked him to call her), atop him on the bed, her flaming mane swinging and her tits hanging down as she propped herself on elbows and knees. Pete, gripping his phallus in his hand, rubbed the tip of it back and forth, back and forth, in the split of her cunt. Finally she lowered her hips all the way and sheathed him to the balls, after which he wrapped his hands around her glorious, plump knockers and just squeezed those beautiful, silk-skinned babies to his heart's content, thumbing their turgid tips. Charlie slid her loins up and down, up and down on him, taking him to her innermost depths, then nearly giving him up, then taking him deeply inside herself again.
After awhile he let her tits go, and oh how they bounced and shook! He wondered what a babe like this was doing futzing around a doctor's office when she could have much more as a stripper or even a topless waitress. Watching those titties bob would really make the men quaff their beers!
Another picture had Charlie on her back with him atop her, bearing down, his happy prick slid all the way up into her hole, then nearly out, then deep, then back. In-and-out, up-and-down, back-and-forth. Gliding, sliding, riding. Humping, bumping, jumping with joy.
He joined her in the shower before the evening was over. First he stood there, facing her, and soaped her hobbling tits, rubbing them good and rolling them around. Then he rubbed her middle and loins, her hips and buttocks, and her long, full thighs. He got up in between her thighs and soaped her where her libido lived.
Then she soaped him, and this was even better.
God, she had held his cock and balls in her hand and soaped them with the other hand, then both hands together, coddling his balls tenderly as she rubbed his long-john back and forth, back and forth, until it got brutally hard.
They toweled each other briskly, then raced for the nearest bed. This time she positioned herself on chest and knees, presenting her gorgeous ass to him. He parted her buttocks, examined her cute little flower, and moved up to it. Luckily she still retained some soapy lubrication there and he still had some on his prick (since they had been in much too much of a hurry to towel each other well), so he was able to work that pulsating prick through the tight aperture and into her rearmost chamber.
She cried and moaned and began rotating her ass. Pete pumped, not trying to go very deep. He didn't have to. The head of his dong was deriving the most wonderful sensations from her spasming sphincter muscles.
Charlie must have enjoyed it, too, because she bucked beneath him, her buttocks bouncing, and she had an anal orgasm which set him off. He reached underneath her and gripped her tits as he stabbed forward and ejected his joy juice into her ass.
What delightful mental pictures!
Today he was less troubled by Amy than before. If she were, in fact, a Lesbian, it wasn't his fault. He had proved himself a competent lover last night and had thrilled his partner greatly.
But there remained the question of what would happen to his marriage. He wasn't going to stay tied to a human three-dollar bill when the world was full of genuine, hot-for-screwing females that he could get for little more than a wave of his peter. He would have a serious talk with Amy tonight, he decided, and try to find out where they stood with each other. He could talk about the matter now. A couple of days ago, the mere suspicion that she might be queer was so distressing to him that he couldn't face up to it in a direct confrontation.
Meanwhile, at home, Amy was having a talk with Patty.
"A swap party?" Amy exclaimed after Patty had told her what she had in mind. "Pete would like that, you can bet your life! But I don't know if I would or not. I'm still not sure of myself, Pat. You left me in an awful dither the other day."
"You silly little bird," Patty cooed, and petted her on the cheek.
Amy grasped the hand and forced it down to her tits. Patty closed her grasp around one of the brassiered oranges and worked it a little through the rather coarse bra-cloth.
"Oooh, honey ... baby..." Amy breathed, eyes closed and head tilted back. "That turns me on so goood! Take me, Patty. Please take me. I haven't had anything since that day."
"You mean Pete hasn't been putting it to you."
"Nothing, Patty. I'm about to go out of my mind."
"Honey, I'd like to play with you a little, but I really don't nave time today."
"Oh, you bitch!" Amy exploded. "Tsk-tsk. That isn't nice."
"I don't give a good goddamn if it's nice or not. I need something and I need it from you. Right now."
"No can do, darling. But maybe something can be worked out at the party."
"What are you talking about? That's for swapping husbands and wives, isn't it?"
"At first, I suppose. But then, later in the evening, when the men have emptied their balls..."
"Oooh, Patty, do you think...? "
"Why not? Confidentially I'd like to give Joan Brooks a little working over. And how about Gloria, across the street. I'll bet she has a juicy snatch."
"Patty!"
"Maybe all we girls can get together and the men can watch us."
"Oh, no! Pete's fit to piss over what happened between us as it is. He's hardly spoken to me since."
"Maybe we can bring him around. Lots of men enjoy watching women make love, you know. My Art does."
"Really?? "
"Of course. You let me kind of go to work on Pete-boy. Maybe I can do a bit with Joan or Gloria first, then you can join in. If all we girls are going at it together, Pete can't get sore."
"I don't know."
"Well, let's see. I'll expect you two at the party on Saturday night."
From Amy's house, Patty went across the street to call on Gloria. Patty had heard from the milkman that Gloria had tried to seduce him one day, but he had resisted her ... he said. That proved, at the least, that Gloria was in need of something more in the way of bed-fun than her mousy husband, Herbert, provided.
Perhaps she wouldn't be averse to the idea of a neighborhood swap party ... and possibly even some girl-with-girl loving thrown in.
Patty found that Gloria had already heard about the swap between the Brooks and Frasers. The meter reader, who had stopped by that morning, had picked up the information somewhere along his route and had passed it on to Gloria as he undressed her.
(Of course, she didn't tell Patty how she had found out the facts.)
When Patty broached the idea of a swap party, Gloria said:
"Herbert's a very conservative man. I doubt if he would agree to it. As a matter-of-fact, I'd be almost afraid to suggest it."
"Well, I'm going into town tomorrow morning. If you'd have no objection, I could stop by his office and..."
"You hadn't better do that, dear," the sultry brunette said with a menacing edge to her tone. "I'll feel him out tonight."
"You know, Gloria," Patty smiled wisely, "all sorts of things could happen Saturday. After the men are satisfied, we girls could all get together."
"Just what are you suggesting?" Gloria lifted her head haughtily in the way that so impressed her husband.
It didn't impress Patty much, considering what she'd heard from the milkman.
"Oh, come on now!" Patty said. "A little girlie-go-round never hurt anyone. And Herbert might get a real bang out of watching it."
Patty had the idea that Herbert was the sort of man who would particularly enjoy that type of play.
"I'll talk to him tonight," was all that Gloria would say.
But after Patty left, the lush brunette did a lot of thinking. A girlie-go-round, hmm? God, she hadn't had any fun with a female since her days at the restaurant. There had been a cute little waitress who worked there-Penny, her name was. Oh, how that sweet bitch could make love!
Gloria's cunt became damp just from thinking about it.
But Herbert was such a problem. She just knew he wouldn't want to take part in a swap party. And as for watching her with another woman or women ... oh, that would never do! most-likely leave her, and then where would she be? Flat on her ass, having to earn her own living again, at least until she could get some loot out of him through the divorce courts.
The trouble was, Herbert was a man who idolized women. He didn't look upon them as flesh and blood creatures, but as goddesses. That, more than-likely, was why he couldn't make love worth a damn.
If only lie wasn't so strait-laced, she could really have some fun for herself at that party!