Chapter 12

Farewell parties, both John and Pam were realizing, certainly don't have to be sad affairs. The news that their plans were changed, mentioned at the orgiastic climax of their smashing party a few nights before, had brought every one of their new friends back to enjoy a final bash.

Even Harley had taken the day off, and he and Christine, the latter a little tearful as she eyed Pam's pinkly glistening slit, popped open by the blonde's cross-legged position as she sat on the living room carpet, were gently protesting the fact that Pam and the professor had to leave.

John, lounging on the big couch, with the curvaceous little Marina leaning back between his thighs, the professor's big cock rising, half-hard, in the crook of her arm, came to a decision.

"Okay, you guys," he said with a smile, "I guess I owe it to all of you to explain exactly why I came here, and why Pam and I have to go back."

Jim, who had been amusing himself with occasional strokings between Christine's thighs as she lay on her belly near Pam, called: "Hey, Carol! Melissa! Quit fooling around with the food and come in here! John's got news for us!" The big man grinned as Carol came into the living room, holding a big ceramic bowl against her bare belly, stirring at some sort of mixture. He winked at Del, whose face showed over Melissa's bare shoulder.

"And tell that skinny son of a bitch from Anaheim to take his cock out of the cooking!" he added.

"Hell, I haven't got it in the cooking," Del protested, all good nature. "I can't even get it into the cook!"

It was a sight that tugged at Pam's heart, and she was close to tears as she thought of the good times they would soon be leaving.

And all of them listened as John told them, honestly and in detail, the exact reasons why he had contacted them all, the article he planned to write, the whole bit, as Pam looked around anxiously, wondering if John's confession would spoil the party.

"So, you see," John finished at last. "I'm being--and I hate to admit it--not entirely honest with the magazine. Or, what's worse, with myself. Because honestly, I don't have enough facts. I'll have to fake much of it, based on projections of known data."

His voice was sad, and it was obvious that he was deeply moved by his sacrifice of scholarly thoroughness to the crass demands of his own ego and the publisher's deadline. There was a silence for almost a minute, and Harley broke it by laughing. "You mean we're going to be in a book?" he shouted. "Will you be sure to spell my name right?" He slapped John on the shoulder, and Pam, who had been expecting, at the very least, angry charges of confidence betrayed, breathed easier.

These warm, wonderful people,

she thought.

But it was Carol who turned what could have been a wake into a carnival.

Waving a big spoon covered with yellow dough before her, she came and sat down by John. She gestured at Melissa. "Send that silly boy friend of yours in here," she directed. "He's been trying to slip his little-boy prick up my ass all the time I've been trying to get this cake done," she said with pretended disapproval. "Now, for once, he can help me help John!"

Melissa tugged and hauled a grinning, hulking youth out of the kitchen. His "little-boy prick," to use Carol's joking description, began to wilt as he came into the living room, but was still a monster. Ben Reach, the boy Melissa had cited to her mother and Jim as a very cool cat, and invited to the party by the young redhead--"to sort of even things up," she had said--had already endeared himself to every one of the original group. His manner, an intelligent blend of easy respect to the men and lascivious admiration for the women, had earned him a welcome, but everyone except Carol wondered what help he could offer.

"Look," Carol said. "As I understand it, you need a wide collection of experience. Right? And someone to help you get it all together. Isn't that so?"

At John's hod, she continued. "Just for kicks, I've kept a diary of every last dab of swinging experience that Jim and I have had. It's pretty complete. Fills more than twenty-five steno notebooks. This young Lochinvar, here," and she waved the spoon at Ben, "has the reputation of having fucked half the women and girls in this area. Right?"

Ben grinned and answered: "Only the good-looking ones. And nobody under twelve or over sixty!"

Melissa slipped her arm around Ben, smiling radiantly. "I've got a lot of dope on kids my age," she said. "Real groovy material. Would that help?" She drew herself up proudly. "I can type, too, and Jim's a whiz at figures."

"What about me?" demanded Harley. "That's my profession. And I've got two small computers--shit, John, we can give you everything you need!"

John's heart leaped with pleasure. His cock, wilting as he had told his long and, to him, shameful story, began to come up, and the gentle little Marina turned her rosy lips to give the darkening head a long kiss. He looked down at Pam, seeing the big tears of joy rolling down her cheeks as Christine ardently kissed her on the belly, and was opening his mouth in a whoop of joy when a hesitant knock, repeated insistently, sounded at the back door.

They were all too jubilant to worry, but Pam, who went to check on the visitor, had a rather peculiar look on her face as she came back in, leading Helen Rovere. But not the same Helen Rovere they had seen last week. Here was, it seemed, ah entirely different woman.

No longer breathing fire and threats, no longer snake-mean in her denunciations, the tall and graceful brunette stood calmly, accepting their stares.

She was clad in a see-through dress, crocheted from off-white yarns, and it was obviously more holes than thread. The color matched her skin, but the black patch of hair at the juncture of her thighs and belly, and the light-brown aureole and dark, hard nipples, made it plain that she was not burdened with underwear of any kind.

She breathed in deeply, and a smile touched her calm face. The aromas of lust mingled with the rich smells of good cooking from the kitchen. For, as Carol had said: "As long as my daughter has helped out with the fucking, it's only right that I get a chance to help with the cooking."

There was something about her that John had never seen in his three years of married life--warmth, friendliness, shyness--and his heart, so hard toward Helen before, was touched. He got up from the couch, murmuring an apology to little Marina, and went to take his ex-wife's hand.

"Helen," he began, and stopped, not sure of what to say. After all, she had met these people. Except for Ben Reach. And under circumstances that made introductions unnecessary. So he hedged. "Won't you join us?" he asked, conscious that his hardening prick seemed to be keeping at it.

"I came to ask a favor," Helen said, looking down. "First, I want to ask all of you wonderful human beings to forgive me for the other night--and for some other things. You know what I mean," she said, her voice low. "I was--well--excited."

Christine got up and put a big arm around the dark girl.

"You sort of excite me, right now, baby," the big blonde said. "Why don't you get with it, and take that dress off. Before one of these guys--or one of us gals--tears it off you."

Helen blushed, and there was a ripple of laughter. "I have another favor," she said, blushing deeper. "If I didn't feel I know all of you, I wouldn't dare. I have to ask John, though--and John's wife."

Pam had risen from the floor and stood next to their former antagonist. There was a rising warmth in her cunt, a catch of sympathy in her throat. Nothing like adding a new element to warm up an affair--even one as warm as this.

"What can John and I do to help?" the blonde girl asked. She ran a friendly hand down Helen's back, over her rump. She felt the girl tremble like an eager pony. "Come on, say it."

"Please," Helen whispered, placing her hand on John's cock, now reaching to her waist. "My husband heard from Mrs. Gruner that you folks are leaving here. I'm so sorry!" she cried, and there was no doubting her sincerity. "Just when I've begun to--know you!"

Pam eyed the dark girl shrewdly. "Let me guess," she said. "Before we go, you want John to fuck you again. Isn't that it?"

Helen's face was crimson and she sucked at her under lip. She nodded mutely, and there was a chorus of encouragement from everyone in the circle.

"If John doesn't feel up to it, how about me?" asked Harley, and the girl looked at him, now smiling. She murmured something and Harley, leaning forward, said: "What?"

"I said I didn't want to intrude," the girl answered, and Christine hugged the girl to her big breasts.

They all went out under the pepper trees, and made a little ceremony of undressing her. It was quite different from a few nights before. Not much to take off, for one thing. And everyone was quite gentle.

Melissa dug John in the ribs. "Want me to lick her up a bit for you, prof?" the girl asked, and Helen, her sweet face serious, said: "No, dear, but there is something you could do for me--for Sam, rather," she added shyly. "He's really a good man," she said defensively, running her gaze around the circle of lustfully expectant faces. "He did what he thought was right." She reached for Melissa's arm.

"He feels so terrible about the other night," Helen said. "He knows you're under eighteen--he thinks he did something really horrible. After all, he's been in law enforcement for so long. If you could just go up there, and--well, talk to him. Comfort him. He's up there all alone, and he knows why I'm down here. He's all torn up. Would you--go see him?"

Melissa looked at Helen wide-eyed. "Wow! To get that big thing inside of me!" The young redhead stuck out her tongue at her mother's disapproving look. "Yeah, Mom, I know I called it a thing instead of a cock," she said pertly. "I'm on my way!" The rounded globes of her ass quivered as she trotted toward the redwood gate.

Helen turned to John. "I don't think I need any preparation, John," she whispered. "Feel me!"

John laughed with easy confidence, pulling his ex-wife down to the springy pads. His hand went automatically between her spread legs, his fingers slipping easily into the slick lips. This past half-hour had confused him to all things except one--that his cock suddenly craved more of this perfectly marvelous cunt he had so stretched and reamed not long ago.

He leaned down to take a hard, extended nipple into his mouth, tasting the acrid sweetness of summer sweat on the lovely breasts, his own heat rising at the moaning response. Helen's thighs pressed against his hand, holding his fingers inside her, and he almost lost his grip on the rolling softness of the warm titty as her cunt muscles gripped his probing fingers. Well, anybody can be wrong, he thought, but how can you be wrong for three years?

It was an enigma he did not care to pursue. He twisted his fingers up inside the moving sheath of her vagina, and drove them down, feeling the tight-lipped closure of Helen's cervix. The flow of juice was oozing out and dripping from his other two fingers, and the hot incense of a woman in heat rolled along her belly and into his nostrils. His guts were knotted in passion, and the soft touch of her hand on his cock made him aware of his own hard needs.

He had forgotten the others until he heard Helen's voice above him. "Oh, please don't go," she was saying. "You were all here the other night. I think that's why I--at least it's one of the reasons--I mean--" and her voice trailed off.

John looked to see Pam's face, sweetly concerned, looking into Helen's eyes. And behind her, Del Fredericks, his face bright as he rubbed his cock in the crack of Pam's ass.

"Don't worry, Helen," Pam whispered. "We'll be here. I know what you mean. The sight of others, fucking--it's just a wonderful treat. Isn't that right?"

The dark girl sighed gratefully. John had moved between her legs and pushed the head of his cock, slick with lubricant, against the clutching lips. "Ooh, God!" she cried. "Put it in! Fuck me!" She opened her eyes again, begging Pam for understanding. "Could there be some sucking, too?" she asked, her voice rising almost to a yell as John's cock struck deep inside the soft, warm, writhing folds of her pussy. She drew John's head down to hers. "I've got so much to learn," she whispered. "Can you take on another graduate student, professor?" She giggled, holding his head tightly. "I'm short on credits, but you always did grade on willingness."

She seemed to wrap her entire, warm self around John's plunging cock, and they both gave themselves wordlessly to the engulfing pleasure of lust. Her ass seemed to come off the pad as though her back was a spring, meeting John's descending loins in a warm and gentle grind of hair-covered flesh.

His big cock seemed to gather the folds of her inner lips and pushed them inside her, and the tautness of the pulled membrane, teasing her jumping clit, seemed also to bring new heat into her cunt, where a hard fire was already glowing.

The frictions of soft skin, mounted on the hard shaft like a loosely fitting glove, made every millimeter of her sensitive cunt quiver, and the warm, slick juice that pumped out with each stroke, crawling through the hairs and on down to tickle her asshole, brought her to the edge of orgasm.

There is a communication between nerve and nerve, flesh and flesh, which transcends words. Her cuntlips, her clitoris, all of the dark and embracing muscles inside her felt the extra swell of John's cock as the boiling semen burst through his tubes.

As the hot stream jetted its slick way into her stretched sheath, she began to come, her legs wrapped around John's, holding him closely against her, while the bursting shock of her orgasm drew a long, shrill scream of joy from her throat.

Much later, after a sheepish but happy Sam had come down the hill with Melissa, they busied themselves in the house.

All constraint had gone. They chatted with the freedom of old friends and lovers. It was: "Oh, Christine, your boobs are so great," or, "Del, darling, your cock tastes so good," from Helen, and Sam, a quiet man normally, had let his cock take care of the communication between himself and the girls.

At last, the big deputy said: "Helen, you remember that thing these folks were doing, not long ago?" he waved a hand at Harley and Christine, John and Pam. "You know--the dog-fashion thing, with the girls headed in opposite directions? Golly, I sure would like to try that!"

As Christine explained it, giving all credit to John as its originator, all of them began taking positions, moving furniture to make room, the girls all moving laterally together on hands and knees. There were numerous little cries of satisfaction as the six cocks sank in, and giggles as the men, fucking with ease and precision, reached down to pinch and fondle the boobs of the next girl.

The parted globes of Helen's ass, a richly sensual sight which John had never seen--and never expected to see--was so delightful, so inviting, that he repeatedly withdrew his cock until the corona of his glans, shining with the slick exudation from his ex-wife's warm interior, appeared at the entrance.

In this position, his appreciative eyes could see the movement of muscle as her vaginal sphincter nipped at the escaping prick, the few dark hairs which straggled down to encircle her brown and puckered asshole. As he continued this gambit, Helen's twat, too greedy for the sensation of fullness to be denied, began to push back, to grasp and pull at him, until she was, in effect, sitting on his lap as he came teasingly back to sit on his heels. In this ultimate exaggeration, they were, in a very real way, out of the line. The others, too, in establishing their own individual enjoyments, were moving from their positions, and moans of pleasure, snatches of conversation, and occasional smothered cries of lust indicated that the painfully joyful release of orgasm was not far away.

Of the many things which John had learned in these past days, he had found none sweeter than the communion of mind as well as flesh in the swirling heat of fucking. To punctuate penile thrust and vaginal flutter with words of love and understanding--to compress the pneumatic warmth of breast or buttock, to command attention for the whispered word of love and pleasure--had brought him a deeper comprehension of the difference between man and beast.

Now, back on his heels, with Helen's ass pressed into his lap like the two parts of a mold, with his arms crossed so his right hand caressed her left breast, and the fullness of her right breast was in his left hand, he felt her inner muscles clip his prick insistently, and heard her moan in a long sigh of fulfillment.

And, as she wriggled against his thighs, expressing more enjoyment in her orgasm, she laughed and turned to kiss him on the cheek. In response, he pressed his face to hers and asked the whispered question: "When did you learn to laugh in lust? During a fuck? What changed you so?"

There was an immediate upheaval in her guts, a concentration of muscular rhythm in her cunt, and her gyrations, heralding an orgasm that shook her entire body, overbalanced them so that they fell together on their sides, John's clasping arms holding Helen's back tightly to his chest, while her pussy, gone wild in a fiery explosion of heat, held his loins against her quivering rump.

When the last hot spurt of his semen had sprayed her womb, and her final flutters of cunt muscle had milked his happy cock of its last sensation, they came back to reality to find the floor littered with relaxed, happy people.

And Helen, turning to face John, lying close to him, her belly against his, answered his question. "I laughed in sex for the first time the other night--when you raped me. Remember?"

John, smiling but puzzled, replied: "I remember a lot--but I don't recall that you laughed."

The dark girl flashed a dimpled smile all around. "John threatened me," she said. "He said I was a bigamist. Oh, John, dear!" she exclaimed, kissing him, "you're such a silly!"

"Granted," John answered. "But where's the joke?" The others were intent, smiling, sensing a new and unexpected rapport between these two former mates.

Helen, now sitting between John and her husband, winked at Sam and said: "John thinks we got married without my bothering to divorce him, so he thinks I'm a criminal."

A smile spread over the deputy's big face. "I guess he never heard of Mexican divorces," he said. "Didn't you ever write him about it?"

The dark and smiling beauty tossed her head. "No," she answered. "We weren't exactly friendly then."

There was a little hush around the room, and John, still puzzled, asked: "If that's the case, why did you give in?" He turned to the others, letting his eyes rest on Carol. "She just stopped fighting, right?"

"You darling dummy!" Carol exclaimed. "She loves you! Something--I'm not sure what, and I don't think Helen knows, either, just happened when you touched her. And when you got so pompous, so sure of yourself, I'll bet that's when she laughed. Right, Helen?"

Helen leaned over to kiss John on the cheek, but her hand went into her husband's lap, stroking his big cock.

"Maybe it was a laugh on the inside," she smiled. "And maybe it was love. Not that I love Sam any the less, either. You know that," she said, looking at her husband. "It's just that there's a--well, a sort of sweet nostalgia in--this is a bit tough to say just right--but a woman who has been a sexual failure--and I was, too," she said, as both John and Sam opened their mouths to protest. "Well, what I mean is, I just wanted to show this smart-ass that I had learned something about fucking!"

Her blush swept all over her beautiful body, and John reached out to shake hands with Sam. "You sure as hell taught her!" the professor said, and Sam, his face sober, replied: "No, I can't take credit--I guess she always knew!"

"And now," Helen said, her voice low, "it's so sad that you two are leaving."

The shouts of laughter that followed required an explanation, and John let the others supply the details for Helen and Sam. There was a release of animal spirits as the pair who had been mortal enemies a few days before, but who were now fast friends, learned that the swapping circle would remain complete--at least until the end of summer.

"And the entire slant and scope of my work has changed," John announced, somewhat pedantically.

Even Pam--especially Pam--was surprised, and showed it, but John went on. "I had some uninstructed idea that there was a source of initiative, a provable shift of sex drive from male to female." He laughed apologetically. "I was so smart. And so dumb." He looked around him at the interested faces, the warmth and beauty of the naked riches all around.

"I thought that women had become the aggressors." He smiled at Pam. "Now I see--it's leadership, when the male forgets, or doesn't know how, to be the leader, the female supplies the initiative. Isn't that wonderful?"

There was a rich laugh from Carol and Christine, and Pam, looking at Melissa, gave the younger girl a covert wink.

"John," boomed little Harley, "you've just discovered that two and two make four. And six couples makes a lot of fun." He moved over and crouched by Melissa, his rising cock, finding a rich inspiration in the sight and smell of, as he put it, "half an acre of cunt," pressing under the buxom young redhead's arm.

She gently moved the burgeoning hard-on into her armpit and flashed a smile around at the eager little man. "Speaking of mathematics, Harley," she said seriously, "you talked about eighteen ways to fuck me, but you only showed seventeen. You wouldn't deprive a young girl of her human rights, would you?"

He moved sharply against her, pitching her forward, face down on the tickling shag carpet.

"Hey, Tarzan," Melissa protested, as the others closed in, laughing, "you don't have to rape me!"

Harley, kneeling between her legs, moved a hand down between her cuntlips, picking up a slick handful of juice, wiping it up and down the deep, warm cleft of her ass. To a cry of: "That's a repeat on the number three method!" he gave a superior smirk.

"Watch the old master," he boasted. "It's a variation of number seventeen!"

He pulled the girl's big asscheeks apart and laid his cock, now completely hard, in the deep valley, and all of them, now watching from close up, could see heat expressed in the faintly twitching pink asshole. But he made no attempt to penetrate it.

Instead, he used his hands to push the globes of her ass together, so that his prick, almost entirely covered by the softly muscled flesh, moved gently back and forth.

"Now," he proclaimed, laying all his body on Melissa, "I get the real compression." He fucked slowly back and forth. "Mmm!" he said. "Tight, hot, delicious!"

Melissa squirmed under him and turned a bright look of surprise toward her mother. "Wow!" she breathed. "This is kind of sexy! But I don't think I can come this way."

"Hush, doll," Harley said sternly. "I didn't say you could get it eighteen ways. I said that I could!"

As others joined the experiment, and some of the girls echoed Melissa's complaint, Harley raised and helped the youngster to turn on her back. As she had lain prone, the gathered juices in her cunt had obeyed Newton's Law, and her big bush of pink cunt hair was matted and darkened with the slick flow. His mouth went down to meet her crotch as it thrust up at him, and he carefully, lovingly, licked between the thick lips, to Melissa's vocal gratitude.

There was a rustle of movement as all the couples began to follow suit, and suddenly, in a great outpouring of friendship and lust, the six couples were fucking, as Melissa said afterwards, "like a bunch of straights."

Again, John found that communication in group fucking brought a new kind of love. His prick buried in the slickly bald cunt of Christine, facing toward Sam Rovere, whose happy member was plunging deep into the tight warmth of Carol Malone, he said, in all sincerity: "We'll have time for a lot more of these parties, Sam. We want you and Helen to be here every time we ball!"

"Oh, yes!" echoed Pam, pumping her ass up and down on the lunging prick of Del Fredericks. "We want all of you!"

Her voice rose into a warm shout as she began to come, and she cried: "Lots of parties! For everybody! YOU ALL COME!"

"Oh, Pam, we will! We will!" Helen screamed, her lovely ass pounding the carpet as her cunt clamped furiously around young Ben Reach's jerking cock.

And Sam, relaxed and happy, resting his weight on Carol's warm and sated body, said: "I just did!"