Chapter 12
THE PARTY WAS AT THE HOME OF ALEX and Joan Westover, and no one knew about it but the Westovers, the Robinsons, Pam, and an unattached fellow named Bill Warren, whom Pam brought along as her date.
Alex Westover was an industrial executive from Los Angeles who maintained the mountain cottage as a summer and weekend retreat. He had a great deal of money, and this showed in the lavish furnishings of the place.
It also showed in the woman he had chosen for his wife. She was tall, platinum blonde, and voluptuously curved. Moreover, she was at least ten years younger than the graying, though handsome, industrialist.
The festivities began with drinking, music, and no talk whatsoever of what was programmed to take place. But Westover kept sliding appreciative glances up and down Clarisa's form, and occasionally letting his eyes dally with Pam's charms, as well.
Fred found Joan very much to his liking. She was the willowy type, who looked as if she would have a great deal of whiplash in the region of her hips when a man began putting the action to her. Her eyes were bold without being bawdy. And the creamy cleavage of her tits promised pleasant rooting about.
Clarisa was nervous. Sexing it up with a couple of sawmill workers was one thing, but with people like this ... she was a little afraid that she was getting in beyond her safe depth. Not that she was in the sawmill workers' class, exactly-but she certainly didn't belong to the social set of the Westovers.
She needn't have worried, however. When an affair of the flesh was in prospect-and that was all that this swapping session would amount to-there were no social distinctions, so long as everyone was physically pleasing to everyone else.
After the party-goers were all in a mellow mood and had gotten acquainted, Westover called for silence in the room. The stereo was shut off, and all heads turned his way.
"Now, we all know why we're here," he said. "What we don't know, however, is how we're going to pair off for the remainder of the evening ... or whether we're going to pair off at all."
"What do you mean, 'whether we are going to pair off'? " Bill Warren asked. "I thought that was the whole idea."
"Not as I understood it," Westover said. "The idea was to swing and swap. Well, Joan and I have gone this route before, and we've discovered that it's much more fun to play all together in the same room than to retire in pairs alone. So if no one has any objection..."
Pam was pleased with this. The main reason she'd agreed to come to the party was because she hoped it would give her a further chance to demonstrate to Fred how she outclassed every other female. Fred was willing. The more the merrier meant just what it said, as far as he was concerned. Clarisa continued to be nervous, but she didn't object. Bill Warren was satisfied with Westover's suggestion.
After the older man had glanced around the group and noted no adverse reactions, he went on: "All we need right now, it seems to me, is a little something to put us in the right mood. I believe I have that." His eyes twinkled. "Joan, darling, will you bring out the projector and screen, please?"
She moved to the closet where the equipment was kept.
"This film," he said, "is quite choice. I suggest that, as we watch it, we merely proceed to do what comes naturally. In order to facilitate that, we will leave a dim light on, here at the back of the room so that it won't blank out the picture, but will still enable us to see what we're doing." He gave a little laugh. "This couch opens into a double bed." He reached down gave it a flip, and the transformation took place. "Also, there are pillows which can be spread on the floor..."
No further explanations or invitations were needed. Joan merely set up the projector and screen, after which the reel of film was put on and the projector plugged into a wall socket.
The six persons settled themselves into comfortable chairs and on the sofa-bed. Fred managed to grab the spot next to Joan, while her husband maneuvered himself into position next to Clarisa. It seemed to be understood between Pam and her date that they would remain partners during the first part of the festivities.
The lights were dimmed, the projector turned on, and the screen at the other end of the room flickered into life...
The film was as dirty as Westover's introductory remarks had indicated it would be. Complete nudity was featured at the beginning, and the excitement built from there. The film had four performers-a man, two girls and a dog. The girls were together at the beginning, then the man joined them, finally the dog was brought into the scene.
Before the twenty-minute reel had run out, the audience began to give vent to the passions which the picture had aroused. Fred put his arms around Joan as they sat on the edge of the sofa-bed; Westover drew Clarisa onto his lap; Bill dropped some pillows onto the rug and pulled Pam down on top of them with him.
There was enough light in the room so that everyone could see what everyone else was doing. It seemed to Fred, at the beginning, that Westover was more interested in watching him with Joan than in looking at the movie or making time with Clarisa.
The older man's eyes glittered in their direction as Fred pushed Joan's dress up and began to pet her satiny, golden thighs above the tops of her stockings. He continued to look as Fred's hand moved all the way up between those thighs and touched Joan's warm, moist pussy through the clinging nylon of her pants.
Her hand was in his lap at the same time, slowly measuring and stimulating the long cock which had risen under his trousers.
Now, however, Westover did turn away for awhile, and he watched the screen as it depicted the dog between the legs of one of the girls. The canine sank his thin, hard prick into the girl's aroused pussy as the camera moved in for a closeup.
Clarisa was shocked beyond words. She had never seen anything like this before and was repelled by it, while at the same time reacting with passion.
As they both watched the film, Westover deftly lowered the top of her dress and removed her lacy bra.
"What beautiful titties, my dear," he murmured as he warmly enclosed them in his hands.
Bill and Pam were rolling on the pillows by now, her dress up to her waist and his hand working inside the crotch of her panties. She let out his cock.
Westover glanced at that, then bent to nuzzle the chest treasures of Clarisa, which he had just uncovered.
The movie came to an end, and the screen flickered blankly as the end of the film flapped on the rotating take-up reel. Westover reached and shut the projector off.
"Did you like the picture?" he whispered to Clarisa.
"I don't know," she said honestly.
His hand slid up between her hot thighs and tugged her panty crotch askew. His fingertips touched her pussy lips and found them awash with moisture.
"I believe you liked it," he husked and fastened his mouth around one of her large, thrusting nipples.
"Oooh, you have a nice big prick..." Joan was murmuring at Fred's ear as he caressed her cunt, and she continued to stroke the pecker through his pants. "Take it out," he suggested.
She immediately moved to do so, and he began to slide her panties off.
Pam and Bill were getting undressed, slowly but surely, as they writhed on the pillows-kissing and caressing while they tugged at each other's clothes. Pam went down on him, enclosing the burning knob of his penis in her warm, moist mouth. She sucked lazily and laved the cockhead with her tongue as he worked her titties out of her dress and teasingly pulled at her hard little nipples.
Westover urged Clarisa to her feet and slipped her dress the rest of the way off, taking her brief petticoat with it. He got up, exhibiting a hard-on under his clothes. He guided Clarisa to the sofa-bed, where Fred and Joan were now stretched out. She was stroking his naked cock while he petted her furry, damp loins.
Westover told them, "Move over, hm? This lovely lady and myself would like to come aboard."
Fred and Joan slid onto half of the bed, and Clarisa lay down beside them. Westover remained standing until he had removed his shoes, shirt and trousers, then sank partially atop her.
Pam lifted her face from Bill's prick and glanced at the two couples on the bed. She didn't like the idea of Fred being surrounded by Joan and Clarisa. She wanted to get in on that scene herself.
The fact was, Fred was paying no attention to her whatever. He seemed completely absorbed in the platinum blonde with the predictably dark-haired cunt, whom he now had stripped completely, except for her garter belt and nylons. He was licking at her bobbing tits and stroking his finger in and out of her snatch while she fondled the prick and balls which protruded from his trousers.
"Hey, baby ... come on ... give me some more," Bill said, as he tried to get Pam to go down on him again.
But she had lost her taste for his prick. She wanted Fred's. She had to get Fred's for her own, or the whole purpose of her visit to Pine Center would be destroyed. She kept looking at the bed, where Westover lay with Clarisa and Fred writhed with Westover's wife.
Bill said in exasperation, "Well, if you won't suck me any more, I'm sure as hell going to get some kind of satisfaction."
He pushed her onto her back and he climbed aboard her furry loins.
She resigned herself, for the time being, to the service of his lustful desire. His thick, hard cock slid into her and he grunted because the fit was very good. She was slippery and snug-just the way he liked them. He began to pull and thrust, pull and thrust, sliding his hot cock in and out between her moist pussy-lips, and the action stimulated Pam to move her hips with him. Regardless of who the man was, or whatever other man she might have in her mind, when a guy began to screw her she had to respond with passion.
Westover was hugging Clarisa, who wore just white lacy pants, a garter belt and stockings. He caressed her springy-firm bottom and kneaded her smooth, full thighs. He kept pulling quick sucks at her titties.
Her nipples ached, and she was becoming very strongly aroused. She wanted the man to pull off her pants and proceed to get into her ... or, perhaps even better yet, to lie down on his back so that she could mount him and go for a wild, prickly ride.
Joan was pulling Fred's pants off, having already disposed of his shirt. He was pulling on her titties, which were the pointy kind and quite firm. As she leaned toward his feet, to haul his trousers off, Fred decided to take advantage of the position. Before she could change positions to begin removing his shorts, he snuggled close to her and pushed her head toward his loins as he directed his face toward the fluffy brown curls on her treasure box. She eagerly mouthed his dong while he pressed his mouth to her moist twat. They began a long and delectable session of sixty-nine.
Westover halted his caressing of Clarisa to watch his wife sucking Fred's cock.
"See what a hungry bitch she is?" he murmured to Clarisa. "Do you ever get hungry, my dear?"
"Ooh, all the time..." She slowly sank to his bristling loins.
By twisting her head a little, Pam could watch what was happening on the bed while Bill pumped his pecker in and out of her cunt. She perceived somewhat ruefully that her prot'g's, the Robinsons, were going her one better at the moment-wallowing in the blissful depths of sensual delight while she was merely being screwed. She wanted to get over there with them.
"Hurry up, will you?" she said sharply to Bill, and she broke rhythm to begin pounding her pussy very rapidly against him.
Westover turned into a sixty-nine position with Clarisa just as Fred righted himself and rolled atop the pliant, golden form of Westover's wife. His happily-pulsating prick found its way between her cunt lips and sank deeply into her loins as Westover began to lick at the sopping lips of Clarisa's pussy. She was bobbing her head energetically on the knob of his straining prick.
Fred banged Joan with total concentration, even though another man was sixty-nining his wife, right beside him. It didn't matter. He was through with petty jealousy now. He and Clarisa had advanced into a higher realm of sexual expression.
She felt much the same way as she enjoyed mouthing Westover's tasty prick and delighted in the lapping incursions of his tongue within her throbbing wet cunt.
Bill grunted and shot his semen into the bobbing loins of Pam. She didn't come. All she could Chink about, at this point, was the presence of Fred with another woman, while Clarisa lay right next to them and didn't seem to care. What had happened to these people, anyway? Whatever it was, she was going to have to change things around.
As soon as Bill would let her up, she moved to the sofa bed where Fred's shorts-clad rump was bobbing furiously between Joan's stockinged thighs. By now, Clarisa had crawled atop Westover and was lying full-length against him, grinding her cunt around his blissfully-throbbing peter. Her tits agitated against the wiry hairs on his chest, her outsize, stiff nipples digging into him.
Pam flopped down between the two lovemaking couples, which made five on the bed. It was a sturdy piece of furniture, however, and held up well. Neither Fred nor Clarisa seemed to notice Pam's presence, but
Westover reached and began massaging her tits. But these group sessions weren't so great when a woman had her eye on one particular man.
Fred and Joan increased the tempo of their screwing, and suddenly she finished with an excited string of gasps and whimpers as she ground her cunt hard around him. He went off in the eye of her hurricane, jetting forth his essence of manhood.
Pam immediately tried to get him away from the other woman. Her hand was inside his shorts, caressing his rump, even as his prick remained sunk within Joan.
Clarisa's screwing of Westover was now approaching the climactic phase, and her bare ass bobbed up and down.
"Oooh, baby ... yessss ... aaaaaaaah," he said, coming with a gush as she finished around him.
Pam was making little progress with Fred. He didn't want to get off Joan yet. Clarisa dismounted from Westover almost immediately, however, and he rolled against Pam, sliding his arms around her.
"No!" she protested. "Leave me alone!"
"Alone?" he repeated huskily. "At a party like this? come on ... let's you and I make it."
He attempted to pull her leg up over him so that he could stimulate his temporarily softened peter by rubbing it in her velvety wet trough, but she angrily swung her hand, striking him across the face.
"What the hell...! " he mumbled and rubbed his smarting cheek.
Fred looked up. "What's the matter with you, Pam?"
"You're the matter-that's what!" she blurted.
"I don't get it, Robinson," Westover said. "This isn't your wife. Why should she make a fuss?"
"I'd like to know that myself," he said, gazing at her.
Joan ran her arm around Fred's neck and pulled him down to her again. "I want more of your big cock," she purred into his ear. "It isn't every day that a girl gets a chance to get a tool like that."
"Maybe that's the answer," said Westover with a laugh. "Your cock is in wide demand, hm, Robinson?"
"Something like that," he said and devoted his attention to kissing Joan around the neck and breasts.
Pam was furious. She's been dragged into this party, which she hadn't given a shit for in the first place, and now nothing was going right. She couldn't show up the other women because they were at least her equal with a man. Anyway, Fred would hardly look at her. She could've swung by her heels from the chandelier and it wouldn't have drawn more than a passing glance from him.
Clarisa had paired off with Bill, and they had moved to the cushions where Bill had screwed Pam just a few minutes ago.
"Well, honey, it looks like you're stuck with me," Westover commented to Pam. "Now, if you'll tell me you're sorry about that slap in the face, I'll see what I can do about giving you an agreeable screwing."
"Oh, screw yourself, why don't you?" Pam cried, and turned to run out of the room.
"What a strange person," Westover mused aloud, then got up and strolled over to the pillows where he could watch Clarisa and Bill making love.
She had his cock up already and was stroking it as he took long licking sucks from her truly titanic nipples.
Westover reached down and tweaked the one which Bill was not, at the moment, using.
"I don't see how you can put up with it," Pam said to Clarisa the next day, when the two women were at home alone and Fred was at work.
"Put up with what?" Clarisa looked up from the sweater she was knitting.
"Sex parties like the one last night."
Clarisa looked at her for a moment as if she didn't comprehend.
"I mean, with everybody screwing everybody else's husband and wife. It's ... it's obnoxious."
"But, Pam ... you're the one who said these things were only flesh deep. They don't mean anything. Fred and I are in love with each other, and I think our love is stronger now that we've taken a more broad-minded attitude toward sex."
"Oh, you do, hm? Didn't you notice how he was enjoying himself with that phony blonde last night?"
"Sure," Clarisa smiled. "And did you notice how I enjoyed myself with her husband ... and with your boy friend, too?"
"That Warren jerk isn't my boy friend!" Pam declared vehemently.
"Well, he brought you to the party. That was all I meant."
"You'll have plenty to worry about when Fred gets hooked on some broad he meets at a party like that, and wants to run off with her and leave you in the lurch."
"Won't happen," Clarisa said confidently.
"And how can you be sure of that?"
"Because he wouldn't leave me for you," Clarisa said, and looked her old girl friend right in the eyes. "If you couldn't get him away from me, I doubt if any other woman could."
"You mean ... he told you that I ... ? "
"Of course. We have no secrets any more. We're liberated, Pam," she added happily, "and we have you to thank for it. We're both very grateful."
Pam gazed at the other woman in shocked disbelief. Everything had worked out differently from the way she'd intended. Both Clarisa and Fred had snapped up the bait she had used on them, but they hadn't taken the hook. Now she was out of bait, and there was nothing more she could do.
She stood up. "Well, I hope you and Fred are very happy in your new liberated life," she said sarcastically, and turned to leave the room.
"Where are you going?" Clarissa asked.
"To pack, of course. You don't think I'm going to hang around this place any longer, do you?"
Clarisa smiled to herself. She'd won. And when the contest had started, she wouldn't have given a dime for her own chances.
Pam had been right when she'd promised that some outside sex adventures would increase Clarisa's self-confidence. They had increased it to the point where now she and Fred could have their outside fun side by side and still love each other-perhaps even, as she had told Pam, love each other more than ever.
That night in bed she told Fred about her talk with
Pam, who had left by the time he came home for dinner.
"Good riddance," had been his comment, and he had really meant it. He had worked her out of his mind and out from under his skin, and he had done it by besting her at her own game.
"She seemed surprised to hear I knew everything that had happened between you two," Clarisa said.
"No doubt. I guess that was the final straw, hm?"
"It sure was."
"Well, it's nice to have her out of our hair, baby."
He drew Clarisa into his arms. His lips brushed hers a couple of times, then caught hold, and his tongue surged deeply into her mouth. Her hand went to his loins, and she lifted his cock and balls out of his pajamas. Her tender fingers pushed his foreskin back and she toyed with the head of his penis as it grew very large and hard.
"Mmmmmmm, you taste good," he murmured as he withdrew his mouth from hers. "And your hand certainly knows what it's doing, too."
"Would you believe," she said as she continued to caress him, "that there was a time when I was bashful about handling your prick?"
"I remember," he said and caressed along her front, down to her pussy.
"You know, we thought we overcame all our problems shortly after we were married and got fully adjusted to each other," she said as he began to slowly pull her nightgown up. "But really we didn't. It took Pam to help us complete the process."
"That's true," he replied as he stroked her pussy curls with his fingertips.
"Oooh, that feels good, lover," Clarisa breathed. "Tell me, are you going to eat me tonight?"
"I will if you will," he answered.
"No fair bargaining," she told him, and writhed against the finger which was stroking shallowly between her labia majora.
"You're right. There'll be no bargaining. And the answer to your question is yes, little wife. I do fully intend to eat you."
"And I'm afraid I'll have to return the favor. You're making me so hot!"
He continued to caress her cunt as his other hand worked to lower the nightie from her breasts. One stiff reddish nipple popped out, followed by its twin. The white mounds, on which they sat, shimmied as he pulled the nightgown away from them.
"Tell me, darling," she murmured, grinding her vagina around his invading finger, "do you still want to screw around and swap with other couples and do all that sort of thing?"
"Ooh, once in awhile ... when things get a little dull at home."
Mmmmm, the way I feel right now, nothing will ever get dull here."
He lowered his mouth to her titties.
It was good, what had happened between Clarisa and himself. They had turned a moment of crisis into one of greater awakening and greater appreciation of one another. Perhaps he would never want to play around on the outside again. But the cure which had worked once was always available to them, in case they needed to call upon it a second time ... or a third or fourth...
His lips slid along her body. They slid over the rumpled fabric of her nightgown, which was at her middle, and moved across her gently-curved belly to the garden of silken curls at her loins. He got his mouth and nose into that sweet-scented fluff, and his tongue tip traced the moist groove of her pussy. In moments his hungry mouth was clamped to her twat and he was stroking his tongue in and out of her quivering inner channel. The little velvety orifice seemed to be snapping at him. It wanted a prick, that was the trouble. Tongues were all right for teasing and getting a girl worked up, but it took a big prick to satisfy her-Clarisa had told him that recently, in just so many words, and he knew it was true.
He had the big prick she needed. And lost no time now in righting himself on the bed, clambering atop her so that he could slip that big pecker deeply into the moist, silken crevice which he had been licking. His saliva added to her joy juice to make the penetration that much smoother, and, on the very first thrust, he sank his rod seven inches into her warm, snug cunt.
"Oooh, darling ... stick me hard!" she requested.
"And fast?" he asked, letting his cock throb deeply within her for the moment.
"No. Slowly. I want you to last half an hour ... maybe a whole hour, if you can. Make me come three times."
"That's quite an order," he smiled as he looked down into her glowing face.
"You can do it, darling," she said sweetly. "You can give me everything I need. I know you can."
He began as she had requested-slowly, deeply, powerfully and with tender feeling. She responded, her hips rising and falling in the exact tempo of his thrusts. He did make it last a long time-not an hour, if even quite half an hour, but long enough to give her two of the three comes she had requested. And that was enough, Clarisa admitted to herself. As she strove for his own finish, she wanted only that and nothing more for herself.
They lay in each other's arms afterward, and sleep began to lure them. But Clarisa remembered something she had promised and had neglected to deliver to him.
A kiss.
She slid downward along his body and removed his penis from his pajama pants. It was soft and covered with the products of their lovemaking. She slid the foreskin back and pressed her lips against the tip of it.
That was their good-night kiss.
They fell asleep, embracing...