SWAP NIGHT Part1

Eddie Frampton folded his tall but lithe and muscular frame into the brand new Porsche, started the motor, jerked it into reverse gear and rocketed the machine down the drive into the quiet street. Tires squealing and engine reving like mad, he headed toward Manna Avenue and back to the club. The ache in his loins and his feeling of sexual deprivation told him, only too clearly that there was a big void in his married life although in almost every other direction, his life had changed for the better.
Jesus Christ! Alyce looks she’d be the most fabulous lay of the century… that luscious body, it sure fooled me. Why does she just lay there like a sack of flour when I fuck her? She’s so goddamn passive, I feel like I might as well shove my cock into an inflatable doll. It’s not normal. She thinks everything but the missionary position is only for perverts. Even with the missionary she just lies there and throws her legs up and waits for me to get it over with.
I better keep my mind on the road, he suddenly realized after just roaring right past a stop sign. But presently his attention was focused back in his groin. Fuck! I’ve got such an ache in my balls! I don’t have to go home for lunch. It would be just as convenient to have it at the club, but I like to see my wife but apparently she isn’t that happy to see me.
He let his mind drift back over the little scene he had just gone through.
Still in his tennis gear, the handsome pro bounced into the house, entering the kitchen where Alyce was preparing lunch. He enveloped his wife of three months in a great bear hug, giving her a lingering kiss, hard on her upturned lips, leaning his head down to her and using his tongue to force open her lips to him. The uptight young woman had made this concession to her lusty husband; his desire for what she considered unnecessary sexual contact, especially, in a casual kiss of greeting or goodbye.
The lovely blonde was a little repulsed, but she had decided that it was a small thing for her to do if it was something that Eddie really wanted.
“What’s on the menu, darling?” he asked, looking around the kitchen.
“Tuna salad,” she said, “we’re going to go strictly low calorie around here.”
“Sounds great to me,” he said, “those five pounds I put on over our honeymoon sure show up when I’m playing. I think it was all those chocolate eclairs for breakfast.”
“Yes,” she answered with mock sterness, “no more decadence at the table. I don’t want this body looking like someone blew me up with a bicycle pump.”
“I’d like to pump you right now,” he leered at her in a suggestive manner.
His hands made suggestive motions down her back, as he smoothed them across her buttocks, reveling in their firm protuberance, cupping the rounded mounds of them in his huge hand and pulling her pelvis in hard to his now stiffening prick beneath his neat white tennis shorts.
Alyce could feel the warmth and the bulging, warm firmness at his crotch, and she knew that he wanted her. She could hardly stand the thought of having sex in the middle of the day and she knew that he felt that it was an added extra with his lunch break.
“Don’t you have a group at one o’clock,” she asked hopefully. “I mean you won’t have time.”
“Baby, I’ve always got time for a good fuck. We could go right over there by the sink and I could stick it in you while you’re washing the lettuce.”
The handsome tennis pro gave his wife a playful slap on the ass, as she turned to the counter to begin serving the lunch she had prepared for them.
Ignoring his lewd comments she said, “It’s almost ready you’d better wash up, Eddie.”
The sway of her hips, as she walked away from him, held his attention, his eyes riveted on her, watching the undulating flesh inside the jeans, mentally undressing her and he liked what he saw. That was the reason he had finally married. This woman seemingly had everything.
“I wish it was your cunt I was eating instead!”
Alyce shot him a look back over her shoulder at him. She saw her husband’s lust-filled eyes, as he watched her, and she wished that she could learn how to handle Eddie’s sexually suggestive innuendoes and lewd interjections.
She turned away from her husband, embarrassed, in spite of herself, the beginnings of a frown creasing her lovely face as Eddie left the kitchen and headed for the bathroom.
The things he says! That look of his when he wants to make love to me, which I think he wants twenty-four hours a day, is pure lust! It’s pure animal lust and it makes me feel crawly and dirty. I wish I could learn to understand it, to respond to his lewd demands, or any rate to reply without blushing to his comments.
The blonde wife finished setting the table and called him to the table.
They ate the meal together, she somewhat bird-like only pecking at the food but Eddie ate ravenously as athletes will. His appetite always seemed to match his size but she knew that he was inclined to pack away a little too much sometimes so she was cutting down on the calories. A fat tennis pro was not exactly an asset and even though he burned up a lot of energy on the courts it wasn’t quite enough to match his sweet tooth so she had decided to restrict his intake of fattening foods.
Eddie gobbled up his tasty tuna salad, sighed contentedly and reached for his wife.
“Since there’s no sweets at the table I think I’d like you for dessert.”
The exquisite blonde had just risen from the table, and she moved to escape him, trying to pick up some dishes from the table as a distraction. He rose, swooped and captured her easily holding her immobile in a vise-like grip, the dishes tailing back to the table with a clatter. His lips sought hers and he kissed her hard and long.
Finally, she placed both her hands on his chest and pushed him away from her.
“Come on, baby, give me a little bit.”
“Eddie, please it’s the middle of the day. It just doesn’t seem right somehow.”
“Right. If it feels right what does the time have to do with it. I want to fuck. I’m not going to wait for the darkness.”
“Well… I do feel better about it… at night, darling.”
Undiscouraged, he again bent his head down to her, capturing her full lips and he was kissing her long and passionately, probing her mouth with his tongue, his hands busy on her body, exploring the womanly curves of her, kneading and caressing her, trying to communicate his great need of her through action.
The big man’s fingers found the zipper on her jeans. Fearfully she heard the scraping whisper of the fastener as he opened it and the garment fell with a sigh of the material, sliding down over the swell of her hips to land in gathers around her trim ankles. She broke the kiss pulling her head back to one side.
“Eddie! What will our neighbors think?”
“The neighbors! Do you think that they have nothing better to do than to watch us?” he said, vehemently, as he dipped his hands under the elastic waistband of her panties to grasp a smoothly rounded buttock cheek in either hand.
She persisted. “But what if someone did see us through the window without our clothes in the middle of the day. Eddie, it just wouldn’t be right.”
Desperate to convince her he continued with greater emphasis, “Listen, we’re husband and wife and this is our home. I’ll do what I want in it and when I want to. No one’s going to stop me. Why are you so concerned what other people think? It’s our life, not theirs so why don’t you just get over yourself.”
Then, with a deft movement he pushed her panties down over the smooth, rounded curves of her buttocks, and the wisp of nylon joined her jeans at her ankles. The clasp of her bra occupied his attention only momentarily. He flung the garments from her, and she stood, nude, statuesque and magnificent in the middle of the kitchen, leaning into his tanned arms, pliant and unresisting.
Her innocent face flushed with the shame of it. Imagine being stripped naked during the lunch hour right there in the kitchen with the curtains opened. She thought of making another complaint but she bit her tongue deciding that she would only irritate her husband more by nagging about his unseemly behavior. It seemed to her that she was always on the defensive and she didn’t want Eddie to think that she objected to everything all the time although in their short marriage it was beginning to look like she did.
“Oh baby, I want you. I want to fuck you now. Your body turns me on so much!”
His muscular arms swept her up; lifting her, easily, he carried her to their bedroom, leaving the trail of her clothing behind them on the way. He deposited his wife on the soft yielding mattress and stepped back to kick off his shoes. He clawed his tennis garb from his body, frantically, scattering it about the room in a flurry of quick movements for which he was famous on the tennis court.
Alyce watched her young husband undress, admiring his athlete’s body but as she did a tidal wave of conflicting thoughts and emotions coursed through her.
Alyce was a body fitness fanatic and she admired her husband’s body almost abstractly like he was a specimen not a human being. But she just could not get over his sexual appetite. His passion rises so fast she thought and he gets so hard. Look at his penis. It’s standing up already and it’s so huge. The head is blood red and it’s throbbing so dangerously I feel afraid of it. I wish he’d give me some time to get in the mood, wait until the evening. I love him but I can’t allow his lust to ruin our marriage.
Eddie came to the bed and lay down beside his wife. He reached for her, grasping one full, firm breast in an enormous hand, he massaged it, roughly, the mound femaleness soft and yielding under his kneading fingers.
His great need was apparent in the urgency of his husky voice. “Jesus, Alyce, I’m so horny. I’ve got to fuck you now. I want my cock in your cunt.”
As disgusted as she was by his obscene words and even more lewd demands she tried to remain calm.
“Let’s wait until tonight…”
His hungry lips stopped her, his tongue lashing into her mouth, as his hand left the breast it was massaging and moved downward across her belly, coming to rest on the golden, softly curling hair of her pubic mound. His hairy hand was stopped there; he couldn’t move it, easily, between her thighs and into her vaginal slit, because she had clamped her legs tightly together.
Alyce twisted her lips away. “No, Eddie, please let’s wait until tonight…”
Ignoring her feeble entreaties the big man began to insinuate his middle finger into the soft, hair-lined crease, but he couldn’t get it in far enough.
“Spread your legs!” he ordered.
She obeyed him, reluctantly. Snake-like, he ran his hand down over her pubic hair, cupping the whole of her naked loins in his big hand, pressing it all up tight between her open legs, compressing the folds of flesh, and kneading her, as he had her breast moments before. She gasped and she remembered the furious lovemaking of the previous evening. She did not want to subject herself to his perverted demands again and especially not in the middle of the day.
“No… I don’t… want it…”
“You never do but I have to get my cock inside you. My balls are burning!”
The innocent blonde moaned in answer to his frantic demands and the fear in her groin. She wanted him to be satisfied but his demands were just too much for her to put up with.
“Stop it… you’re going to be late for work…”
In answer, his finger went straight to the furrow of her cunt, moving in the pink, tender flesh, insistently, now then, upward, through the slight moistness to find the hidden bud of her clitoris. He rubbed at it, stroking the tiny button, trying to rouse it to alert erectness, but it lay flaccid and unresponding under his frantic fingers, refusing to leave its canopied protection.
Suddenly, with a desperate gasp, Eddie heaved himself to his knees; he couldn’t stand the wait any longer. Kneeling over his wife, he placed himself between her partly spread legs, pushing outward with his muscular thighs to spread her limbs even further apart.
Eddie’s cock was fully erect, its huge, blood-engorged length jutting out from his hairiness like another arm. He took the monstrous cock in his hand, and came down, slowly, upon her, as he guided it to the soft, hair-lined slit at the opening of her pussy. He pressed the lust-inflated head against the reddened flesh of her, trying to force the lust raging cock into her barely moistened and unwilling cunt.
“Stop it, Eddie… I’m not ready… I don’t want it…”
“You never do. What am I supposed to do with this hard cock of mine?”
“You’re an animal… you’re unnatural wanting sex all the time like this.”
Eddie’s face froze, the anger rising in him, as he spat out, “so now I’m some kind of beast, am I? Is that what you think about me?”
She was instantly contrite. “No, I didn’t really mean it. It just popped out.”
But Eddie was furious now. “I want to fuck you within an inch of your life. If you’d get into it, you’d enjoy it.”
His base, vulgar language was cutting into her like a knife, slicing, slashing and jabbing at her mind. Her body stiffened, and her face froze into a mask of injured self-righteousness.
“I’ve had enough of this,” she said with a voice like icewater thrown in his face, “let me up.”
“Oh, Alyce, stop acting like an injured virgin,” he said calmly trying to placate her.
“Don’t speak to me like that. I won’t have it. This is supposed to be lovemaking not that other…”
“Good Christ, will you be reasonable!” he shot out now completely exasperated.
“You be reasonable!” she snapped at him, furiously attempting to release herself from his pinioning embrace.
Eddie was rapidly becoming exasperated with her feeble objections and he found that the growing anger within him was dampening his ardor. His cock was still rigid, but the inner turmoil was taking its toll; he could feel the change taking place in him. Some flaccidity of his virile organ was already evident. He tried one more time to get things to a mutually happy solution.
“Come on, Alyce, honey… let’s…” he began, awkwardly trying to apologize.
“You’re not going to treat me like some whore you just picked up off the street,” she fumed, twisting herself free of him, finally, and sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
“But, darling, we’re married. What do you expect me to do, beat off, all the time?”
“I’m sure I don’t care,” she said coldly.
The rejected husband heaved himself up angrily from the bed, gathered up his tennis gear and plunged toward the bathroom, slamming the door hard behind him. He turned on the cold shower and jumped under it bathing his aching cock to ease the frustration of his incomplete sexual act. Then, he dressed, quickly, to go back to the tennis clinic.
At least, he could throw himself into the group he would have at the one o’clock session, smashing backhands against the ball machine as fast as it threw them out. He seethed, inwardly, his anger mounting higher each moment.
Just thinking about the way his new wife constantly thwarted his attentions made him seethe. Almost everything else in his life was coming together. He had just been hired at Marina Tennis Clinics as a pro. It was something he had always wanted to do and this club was really the creme de la creme with all the latest equipment. They had video tape equipment to instantly record the students progress and to point out their mistakes in technique before they became habit. The other pros at the club were a friendly crowd and the owner was a very agreeable sort as well. For the first time in his life he felt like he had it made. He had married a gorgeous young virgin who was one of the women signed up for the tennis groups and it seemed like it was a marriage made in heaven. They made a striking young couple but Eddie thought ruefully, it was all a front.
Shit, she doesn’t even like me to finger her let alone ever let me eat her cunt. If I could just get her sample a taste of that she’d probably go out of her mind. God, the first time I did it dog-style to her instead of missionary, I thought she was going to call the cops.
It’s my own fault. All the guys said I was an asshole to marry a virgin. I should have found out how she felt about sex before we got married. Now it’s too late. It’s been almost three months and instead of getting better it’s getting worse.
Sitting at the traffic lights, his attention was diverted momentarily; it was the body of a woman that had caught his eye and he was sure that he recognized Sally Dunn in her white tennis dress walking along the street carrying her racquet on the way to the tennis club.
That’s a body! Jeeeeesus! I’ve always thought she must be the hottest cunt in the club and standing around in the pro shop all day she nearly drives me nuts sometimes. I wonder what it would be like inside that hot little cunt? I bet she’d be a fabulous fuck!
Eddie, old boy, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself. You’ve gotten married and already you’re thinking about other women. This is not a good sign. Christ, though, my cock aches! Why doesn’t Alyce let herself go? What makes her so uptight?
Suddenly, he found himself almost abreast of Sally Dunn. The provocative swing of her hips and the flashing smile of recognition she threw over her shoulder toward his new Porsche, combined to cause him, on impulse, to steer the car over to the curb and stop beside her. He leaned across the seat, looking up and out at her where she had stopped, waiting, hesitantly.
“Mrs. Dunn… can I give you a ride over to the courts?”
She trotted over to the low-slung automobile. “Why Mr. Frampton. Hi! You’re a lifesaver. I didn’t realize it was so far on foot.”
The tanned tennis pro opened the car door for her and she got in, revealing her long, tapering legs to good advantage. Eddie took a good, long look, feasting his eyes on her female loveliness. She had even more beautiful legs than he had remembered from seeing her in the pro shop over at the Marina.
“Where’s your car?” he asked her when she had settled herself in the low bucket seat, moving her hands to her hair to fling the long tresses over her shoulders. The movement accented her heaving breasts; the outline of her bosum prominent under the thin white material of her tennis dress.
“It stalled just around the corner and I discovered that I had left my wallet at home. I don’t have a dime with me and all my credit cards are at home so I’m walking to the club to call David to have the car towed.”
“I’m glad I happened along. Always glad to rescue a damsel in distress,” he joked, easing the car back into the traffic.
Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, he glanced over at her, appreciatively, noting the swell of her tanned thigh, which the white tennis skirt accentuated. Her legs were bare as far up her thigh as he could see and he wondered about her panties which were the only things keeping her decent. Keeping her cunt away from his prying eyes.
Against his will, he felt the familiar, pleasurable throb between his legs, as his penis began to engorge with his racingly hot blood, building an erection. His scrotum began to tighten and to pull his testicles up, the crawling sensation, again, making him acutely aware that he had been thwarted in his noon-time attempt to make love to his own beautiful wife.
The handsome husband took another sidelong look at the lovely olive-skinned beauty of Sally Dunn, her deeply wide-set dark eyes, straight brown hair and her straight attractive nose. Her trim dress fell in natural folds around her breasts, revealing the generous nature of them. The contours, softly rounding, made him wonder whether or not she was wearing a brassiere. The curve of her thigh was firm, her skirt stretching and straining to cover it but slightly. He followed the curves on down to tapering lower thighs and delicate knees, the calves swelling gently and muscularly. He could see her trim ankles peeping over the tops of her tennis half socks and saw that they were in perfect proportion to the rest of her voluptuous body.
Eddie’s prick jumped in his own tennis shorts. Quickly, he glanced down at himself to ascertain whether his throbbing erection was going to be obvious to his passenger.
Sally was a well put together bundle of womanly beauty, he decided, but the fact that she was David Dunn’s wife and David was another pro at the club and she worked in the pro shop made the thought of having any physical contact impossible. She was forbidden by the moral rule that the instructors didn’t have anything to do with their co-workers.
Of course, he couldn’t help but notice her around the club and they had exchanged a few brief words but that was it. He wasn’t going to let himself be tempted and besides he didn’t want to compromise his growing friendship with her husband, David.
In this moment, however, he began to see Sally in a new light in view of the events of the last hour with his own wife. She was a fully mature woman… a very desirable woman, and Eddie needed a woman and desperately. He stole another glance at her. He decided that she was, definitely a very sexy young woman.
I wonder if I should try and come on to her? I wonder if she’d be open to that? It probably wouldn’t be fair to especially thinking about David. After all, I do have to work with him.
Jesus! I’ve already got a hard-on. Look at those tits! I’d give my right arm just to feel them.
He smiled over at her, noting that her slim, tapering hands were in her lap, the fingers entwined, nervously.
“How’s David?” he said. “Has he had a couple of days off or something? I haven’t seen him around for a few days.”
“Yes, he took a couple of days off to go to a tournament in Los Angeles.”
“Oh, he sure works hard at it, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. I wish he’d work just as hard in other directions,” she said smiling wistfully. She turned her head to look out the window. Eddie spoke to the back of her shining head, puzzled by the meaning of her words.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It just means that he keeps himself in top condition to play but when it comes to me… well…”
Her message came over strong and clear, but he was also sure that she, naively, didn’t realize the signals she was giving out. She was being honest only. His eyes drifted over her, again, liking what he saw more and more, meanwhile his attentions of keeping away from one of his fellow tennis pro’s wife was getting pushed farther and farther into the recesses of his mind by the persistent pulsing of his rock-hard erection between his legs. He decided to probe a little deeper.
“Do you mean he’s not satisfying you in bed?” he burst out breathlessly.
The dark-haired beauty didn’t answer immediately. After a moment, she said. “Yes, that’s it.” She sighed and dropped her gaze, demurely to her hands, wringing them agitatedly in her lap.
Eddie knew just how she felt. There’s nothing worse than frustration.
“I’m sorry I said anything,” she said suddenly. “You must think I’m…”
“No, it’s all right. I’m not a marriage counselor just a tennis coach.”
“David doesn’t even know I exist, half the time,” she sighed ignoring him, turning to look out the window again.
“So that’s the problem, he ignores you…” he prompted wanting to get to the bottom of the matter.
“He doesn’t want to do it very often. His idea of keeping me happy is to do it a couple of times a week,” she said miserably still looking out the window.
“And you want it more often,” he queried.
“Well, God. It seems to me to be unnatural to have such a low sex-drive,” she said matter-of-factly.
Eddie laughed out loud. A hard bitter laugh which startled and confused her. She jerked her head around to look at him in a wide eyed consternation.
“I don’t think it’s funny.”
“Please believe me when I tell you, I know. How well I know! It’s amazing. What a rotten coincidence!”
“Coincidence?”
“Yes… we’re in the same boat.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“Alyce is just like David.”
“I see.” She dropped her gaze again, afraid that she had gone too far in revealing to him an intimate fact of her married life to a comparative stranger.
Then Eddie reached out, on impulse, his huge paw settling on her bare knee, gently. The smooth, tanned flesh was warm to his hand, inviting him and tantalizing him with its warm promise.
She looked up at him, startled, as his hand massaged the inner part of her knee and began to move upward an inch or so along the soft, smooth flesh of the inside of her thigh.
“Mr. Frampton! I hope you don’t think that because I told you about David that I’d… I’d…” she gasped, at a loss for words, her legs clamping together, but the big hand was trapped between her thighs still trying to move upward toward her cunt.
“You’re a lovely, desirable woman, Sally, and I want you. I want to make love to you,” he rasped out, his breath starting to come in low spurts now.
“Good god! We’re both married. How could you even think…?”
“Listen,” Eddie cut in, “you just said that David wasn’t giving you enough in the sack…”
“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to start hopping in bed with every…” The words came tumbling out of her, as she struggled to find reasons to stop his advances toward her.
“We could be discreet. No one would ever know,” he said.
“You make it sound like going to the supermarket,” she said. “I couldn’t get involved in something like that. Besides, there are other people to think about.”
Overwhelmingly, the burden of his sex was bearing down on him. He felt his prick straining at the confines of his shorts. It was standing up, painfully, throbbingly, alert. Christ! How this woman had aroused him.
He wanted her, but he knew that it was impossible. It was broad daylight and time for his one o’clock group. He was supposed to be instructing now. Of course, he rationalized, one of the assistant pros could get the people out on the courts and get the video equipment set up so that would give him an extra couple of minutes.
Silently, they rode along for a few moments, then Eddie, again, reached out his hand to her thigh. She shifted in the bucket seat, and almost imperceptibly her legs spread for his hand as it gained the inside of her thigh and moved upward along the warm flesh to the heat of her crotch.
Quickly, he made his decision. She was ready!
“You’re dying for it, aren’t you?” he said, making his question a statement of fact.
“No. You’re wrong. I can’t do it. It wouldn’t be right.”
Her thighs closed on his hand, and he felt a slight thrust of her hips; a gentle uncontrolled, grinding motion that made her words a lie, her body speaking the truth of her need.
“Where can we go? Obviously, we can’t go to your place or my place.”
“Mmmmmmmmm,” she gasped, her hips straining forward even more.
He frowned, time was of the essence. His hand was at the juncture of her thighs. He used his fingers, probing until he found the crease below the pubic mound and insinuated his middle finger. He pushed against her and found the bud of her womanhood under the thin wisp of nylon.
“No… please… I can’t stand it… nooooooo,” she gasped with pleasure.
Her words jolted him. Now, he was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole thing. He began to wonder if he might have gotten himself in too deeply, already, as he thought about the bizarre situation. They were both aroused sexually and there seemed to be no immediate answer to where they could go and fuck.
“Let’s go to a motel,” he suggested.
“It would take too long to get there,” she murmured, her eyes glazed and passion-filled.
“All right, I know what we’ll do,” he said. “There’s an equipment hut behind the pro shop…”
“Isn’t that kind of risky…”
“You’re right. We’ll park behind it and just stay in the car. Well manage. Where there’s a will there’s a way.”
Pulling his fingers from her cunt, he drove into the drive of the tree-shaded club and threaded his way around the member’s parking lot around the rear of the pro shop to the employee’s lot. No one else seemed to be around and he parked the car over to the corner of the small lot, quickly turning off the ignition and reaching for her.
Eagerly, readily, Sally came into his arms, lifting her lips to him willingly, and moving as close to him as the bucket seats of the expensive Porsche would allow.
Their lips met, and her tongue came probing into his mouth, wetly, seeking him. He was pleasantly surprised by her wanton search of his oral cavity, her lingual member hotly slithering into all its crevices.
He sensed the urgency in the woman and thrust his own tongue forward to joust, momentarily with hers, before giving her just the tip of it. She instantly, voraciously, sucked on his tongue, pulling it deeply into her warm, hungry mouth.
At the same time his hands were occupied with her body. He found her breasts, to his delight, they were completely unfettered. She wore no bra under her tennis dress. The swell of her thigh was firm and long tapering and he revelled in the wonderful womanliness of her. His strong hands explored all her curves, massaging her, roughly, molding and kneading her, and her breath came fast into his mouth.
Frustratedly, he broke the kiss. “We’re not going to be able to do anything in this car. It’s just too small.”
Shyly, she smiled up at him, her face framed by her long, dark-brown hair, not knowing how to say the thing she wanted to say, yet knowing that it must be stated, somehow, if they were to finish what they had unknowingly started.
“We could take turns,” she said, her voice scarcely louder than a murmur, “take turns doing it to each other.”
It was at that moment that she saw it. Her dark eyes drank in the throbbing bulge at his crotch revealing his desire for her. She reached out to him, her tiny hand trembling slightly as she rested it, momentarily on his bare knee, then dragged her fingers with a slithering motion up the inside of his thigh, feather-touching his hardened prick. As she withdrew her hand his cock jerked up hard, and he could feel the moistness at the tip of it. She smiled up into his eyes, laying her hand gently on his huge bicep, she squeezed, meaningfully and finished.
“Do you know what I mean?”
“I get the picture,” he said, “are you sure?”
“Well, it’s the only thing we can do here in this little space,” she said blushing thinking she had already been too bold.
“You don’t have to do it, Sally,” he started to say surprised that she would initiate such a thing. His own wife Alyce would never in a million years entertain such an idea.
“I want to. We can do it right now.”
“We could go out tonight and find somewhere,” he suggested hopefully.
She reflected for a moment. “I don’t know. David will be home. But maybe we could come back here.”
“Super,” he said. “The courts close at ten, I’ve got a key. I’ll meet you back here.”
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the lounge of the tennis club would be the perfect place. He wondered that he had not thought of it before this.
Again, he took her in his muscular tanned arms and kissed her with passionate abandon. She stopped him momentarily, her dark eyes smoky and lust glazed, as she lifted her hips, raised her tennis dress high and reaching down, slid her panties down over her swelling thighs, exposing the olive-toned nakedness of her buttocks to him; then she slid down into the seat moving her pelvis up and forward.
Unerringly, Eddie’s big hand went down between her legs to her pubic mound, the black, curling hair tingling in his palm. As his finger found the erect bud of her clitoris, she moaned with sensual pleasure, her hips beginning to rotate sensuously and snake-like up against his hand.
He put his arm behind her and levered her forward while he unzipped the back of her white tennis dress. Inserting his arm inside the dress, he put his arm around her and captured a full naked breast in his hand.
She leaned back against him as he began to massage the smooth flesh mounding under his fingers grasping the nipple between thumb and forefinger, he urged it to stiff erectness.
“God,” she murmured, “your hands are doing wonderful thing to my body.”
“Ohhhhhhhh, baby…” he mumbled.
Now, the moistness of her furrow told him she was stimulated, ready, and he inserted two fingers in her cunt, moving them in slowly, spreading her to receive them, feeling the soft resiliency of the inner lining of her vaginal walls. He leaned over and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her throat, stiffly. She took it, sucked it deeply into her mouth, making tiny mewling sounds in her throat.
Abruptly, she broke away from him, looking up into his face with half-closed, glazing eyes. She reached out to him, placing her hand behind his heavily muscled neck and gently drew his head downward to her loins. Her silent but eloquent message sent a thrill through him, spearing into his loins and making his cock pulsate, jerkingly, inside his pants. He was aware of a good deal of moisture on the head of his prick and that it was soaking through the cloth of his trousers.
The tanned tennis pro removed his arm from around her, inside her tennis dress, and she leaned far back into the corner of the seat, spreading her legs widely for him, as his great head was lowered to her soft, darkly, hair-lined pussy.
His tongue slid out to her, touching her pulsating clitoris, the damp warmth of the quiveringly erect mystery of her driving him on. He made circles with his tongue, feeling it grow even more erect, pulsing under his lips.
Then, more maddeningly for her, he began stroking up and down on the short length of her clitoral bud, as her hips ground in circles thrusting up into his face with urgent demands.
The pungent taste of her spurred him onward. He took the bud in his lips, drawing the erectile tissue into his mouth to suck upon it. Then, he bared his teeth and gave the tiny nipple of her cunt a gentle little nip.
Sally almost exploded under him, as she groaned out her pleasure.
“My god… oooooooooooohhhhh!” he heard her moan as his tongue moved on her like lightning, igniting lascivious fires of passion deep within her hungering loins.
Eddie strained forward in the confines of the car, reaching out with his tongue to probe into the narrow slit of her pussy. His tongue went into her, and he began to move it in and out, flicking it from his mouth to the rhythm she had already set in her wildly gyrating pelvis.
Sally began to move faster. He went back to her clitoris and licked her, furiously, as she arched up at him off the seat of the Porsche grinding her open cunt with wild abandon into his face.
Moving up and down her furrow, she felt his tongue, alive on her, lashing at her clitoris, accelerating her on, moving her upward, where she soared with ecstasy of her passion to the heights, and there was a great rushing, whistling wind in her ears, as great, explosive spasms of orgasmic relief wracked her body. She gasped and moaned out her delight, wanting him to go on and on.
“Eddie… my god… faster… keep on harder… oh eat me… I’m… aaaaaahhhhhhh… going to… ccoccuuuuurnmmmmmmmmm… oooohhhhhhhhhhhh… I’m there… I’m cuuuuummmiiinnnngggg!”
The small brunette’s body arched off the seat in a final spasm of climax and collapsed in final release as wave after wave of relaxing euphoria overcame her.
“Aaaaaahhhhh… ooooohhhhh… thank you… it was… wonderful!” she said, as she ran her fingers languidly through his short bristly hair.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in the bucket seat of the tiny foreign car savoring the warmth of her sensations. Eddie’s head was in her lap, her naked thighs and buttocks exposed, and he gently rubbed his hand along the silky smoothness of her, waiting for her, allowing her to luxuriate for a few moments… until she would be ready to manipulate him to sexual release.
Finally, she stirred after a few moments, and Eddie raised himself to a sitting position. Her delicate hand reached out to his zippered fly. He heard the metallic whisper of it as she opened his trousers, dipped in a cool hand and liberated his throbbing penis, bringing it out into the car with them.
Sally Dunn leaned over him, slithering her body around in the seat until her head was directly over his cock. With one hand she grasped the shaft of it, her hand barely able to wrap completely around its circumference.
Slowly, she pulled the foreskin back to reveal the purplish red cowl of the glans from which a trickle of the viscous preparatory juices ran.
She scratched her fingernails lightly over the length of it, as the great rod strained upward, pointing at her, and Eddie could feel the hot moistness of her breath flowing over the smooth rubbery head.
Alyce! Suddenly his wife’s name popped into his over-stimulated brain.
Jesus Christ! What am I doing? I’ve only been married a couple of months and already I’m picking up other women. I have no right to do this kind of thing even if Alyce did put me off… I must be flipping my cookies to be eating some woman’s cunt in broad daylight out here behind the tennis club. If Clay Marsdale or any of the other directors caught me it could mean my job!
The guilt stricken husband swallowed deeply; his decision was actually made for him. He was too far along, and there was no stopping, now. He trembled with an emotion he had never before experienced. This was new to him, even though he knew what was coming, he didn’t know what to expect from it, until he felt her lips encircle the entire head of his cock, absorbing it into the warm, wet confines of her mouth. The keening sensation knifed through him, his whole body vibrating with the lewd sensuality of it. Her warm, moist mouth on the sensitive, pulsing head of his prick was like nothing he had ever imagined.
Then he thought he would die! She began to suck on his cock with tantalizingly rhythmic movements, her tongue moving in swirls around the head of it while her head began a slow up and down bobbing with a slight twist on each up stroke.
Eddie looked down to watch her, and the sensations she was producing in him were trebled as he saw how much of his hard fleshy rod of dangerous aroused meat she was taking into her delicately modeled mouth. She was moaning softly and taking almost all of his massive cudgel into her oral cavity, as her head bobbed sensuously up and down over his hairy loins. He began to move his hips in instinctive opposition to her and was further amazed when all of his lust-hardened cock seemed to disappear into her ovalled lips.
Now, using her teeth, she began to suck harder allowing them to scrape along the length of his hardened flesh, leaving white marks in the skin where she bit into it with gentle nips.
Her tongue was alive and busy in her mouth; its nerve-tingling lick on the outstroke was making the head of his member throb and jerk, signaling him of his rising passion. It felt like an urge to relieve himself but the damming action of the tumescent flesh held the seminal flow in check until it would be time. He could feel the beginnings of it deep in his loins, his testicles drawn up below ready to discharge their waiting load of semen.
Tenderly, reaching out a hand to her, he tangled his fingers in her hair, feeling that he should help her to set the pace. He watched, fascinated, as he saw the flesh of her lips being pulled in and out, and he marveled at her technique, her sexual knowledge, knowing instinctively that she had performed this sex act before, probably with her own husband David Dunn.
Beginning to get more desperate now, he began to move more rapidly, jerking his hips up into her face, ramming his member without mercy into her mouth, as he felt the surge within him and his cock seemed to grow even larger in her mouth. She kept pace with him, never missing a beat.
The tennis pro knew he was near the zenith now. He could feel the dammed up pressure of it beginning to reach the point of no return and suddenly the walls of the dam were down!
Breathlessly, he gasped, “Sally… sweet Jesus, baby… I’m nearly there…”
The spewing semen came in a rush, jetting into her mouth in great spurts of viscuous, white jets of thickly hot fluid. She swallowed and kept swallowing, as wave after wave of it was sucked from him.
“Shit! Oh Jesus! I’m cumming! Don’t stop… don’t stop sucking my cock!” he gasped out at her, ramming her head down farther onto his jerking prick, his hips bucking up at her wildly.
Happily she went on sucking, her lips hollowing in and out, as he continued spewing his load into her mouth, his rod plunging up at her, mercilessly, its entire length buried in her throat. He felt as though he had been turned inside out, the drawing sensations seeming to start in his bowels.
Then, as his prick continued with smaller and smaller pumping spasms, she went on, gently, nibbling and licking the last drops of the white liquid sperm from his moisture glistening maleness.
The handsome tennis pro groaned out his satisfaction leaning back into the car seat, his eyes closed, as he savored the effects of his orgasm.
Gradually, his member began to deflate in her mouth, its tumescence beginning to make it flaccid and limber, again.
So rapt in their lewd activities were the two adulterous companions that they did not notice the hasty retreat of a man in tennis whites.
The man had been taking the video tape equipment back to the court where he taped the progress of the players and then played it back for them so that they could instantly review their errors. He hadn’t expected this unexpected bonus. His video camcorder had been able to zero in on the erotic scene.
Sally Dunn released his slowly deflating prick, allowing it to pull from her mouth, as she rolled her head to one side of his knees. She continued to look at it in fascination, almost hypnotized by the deflating action. Finally, she looked up at Eddie, emitting a sigh and raising her lips to him for a kiss.
Eddie took her in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth, inserting his tongue to taste the essence of his own cum still remaining somewhat pungent in her mouth.
It was she that broke the kiss. “Did you like me sucking your cock?”
“Ohhhhhhh, baby… super… out of this world!”
“Just wait until later,” she promised.
“Wait… my balls will be in a knot all day, Mrs. Sally Dunn!”
Alyce’s smooth, long-legged tanned beauty topped by her upswept golden sun-streaked hair was reflected back to her in the bathroom mirror as she stepped gingerly from the tiled shower on to the fluffy bath mat.
Vigorously, she toweled herself dry, being especially careful of the upthrusting mounds of her breasts; they were rather tender to the touch and in particular the darker pink of the nipples, standing erect now from the stimulation of the terry toweling. She looked into the mirror with intense inspection.
The young blonde wife surveyed her body minutely as she catalogued the areas where she could still feel the imprint of Eddie’s strong hands.
She examined the creamy, lustrous skin of the generous hemispheres of both breasts. She felt almost disappointed that there were no marks because they would have been proof to her what an absolute sexual beast her husband was.
Running her hands over her body, she winced with disgust as she became aware of tender places on her curving thighs and rounded buttocks.
Then, her hands found the silky triangle of her womanhood, moving, gently, over the private parts of her, there exploring any damage he might have done. With both hands now, she spread the lips to determine the extent of the havoc her lust-maddened husband had played upon her genitals during his desperate attempt at a “nooner.” She ran a finger, cautiously, into the slit and around the vaginal opening; the raw, exposed nerve endings signaled, their tender state.
She moved onward, upward to the clitoral bud, instantly feeling the electric tingle of sensual pleasure as she touched it. She did not dwell there. The thought the very idea that she might generate in herself a towering, sexual climax ran counter to every fiber of her conscious being.
Every time I’ve felt like doing it to myself, there it is. It’s in my brain yelling loudly. It’s a sin an the eyes of God. Don’t do it. Maybe that’s the reason I can’t be the kind of woman Eddie wants me to be. I even try to stop him from touching me there. But, Lord, how I’ve desired him to do it anyway.
Even in the privacy of her own bathroom, she felt the flush spreading in her cheeks as the thought of the pleasure she had received, on those few times, when Eddie had stroked her clitoris to hard erectness, bringing her a feeling of indecent shame.
Alyce was trying desperately to rationalize her conditioning. Life in Salt Lake City with her strict Mormon upbringing gave the young woman little chance to think for herself. The strict religious community of which her family played a leading role gave her little chance to do anything without the watchdog eyes of everyone upon her. Always present and in the forefront was the consideration of what other people thought… about what you did, or didn’t do. Her church life had been her entire life and even though she did not have a religious nature her conditioning had imposed one on her. And now even though she was almost two thousand miles away from Salt Lake she still felt like the eyes of the Elders of the church were on her. Judging. Judging. Her body had escaped the physical restraints of the place, but her mind was still bound, an unwilling prisoner of her past.
She dressed quickly, covering her body, blotting out its demanding sensuality from herself. In the face of the growing awareness of her need… a desire for sexual fulfillment, she could not trust herself; her beautiful young body reflected in the mirror screamed for it, and she was frightened. The naughty part of her mind knew that she only had to reach her hand out to herself to gain a pleasurable release but her reasoning conditioned mind rejected it, completely.
The young wife glanced at the clock as she finished dressing. She noticed that it was almost three o’clock. Three. Already. Oh God, she thought. I was supposed to go over to Nina Marsdale’s for drinks this afternoon. This was the day she’d been invited by Mrs. Marsdale, wife of the director of the Marina Tennis Clinic to socialize with some of the other women associated with the club and she was rather pleased about it.
Quickly, she dabbed some perfume behind her ears and frantically raced around looking for her car keys. At last she found them and was on her way. She arrived a little late but hoped that Mrs. Marsdale was sufficiently flexible to tolerate tardiness.
Nina Marsdale stood framed in the doorway in answer to the doorbell, a radiant smile on her lips, her beautiful, oriental eyes accented, tastefully, dominated a doll-like face. The Chinese woman was much shorter than Alyce, perfectly proportioned and she stood with the animal grace of the exotic dancer she was before marrying Clay Marsdale. She moved toward Alyce to an inner rhythm of her own, her body under complete control, projecting an image of the completely realized woman, fulfilled, self-confident and madly in love with life.
She spoke with a warm, throaty, softly modulated voice, her slight Oriental accent charming but her English was cultured and correct.
“Oh Alyce, you look lovely today. You really have a great tan… come in.”
“Thank you, Nina,” Alyce said following her in.
Nina steered her expertly among the women gathered in small groups, introducing her graciously to those whom she did not know; finally leaving her over at the bar where a bartender was taking drink orders.
The chatter and gossip of the women was really juicy and she was soon caught up in it, listening to them, as they wittily tore to shreds all their friends who were not there. Feeling too new to the group, and also not knowing many of the people, Alyce contented herself with only a few nods or interjections.
Gradually, the women began to filter out of the Marsdale’s residence back to their homes as it was nearing the dinner hour.
“Why don’t you stay and have another drink?” Nina invited.
Although liquor had been a strict taboo in the Mormon religion Alyce had rather turned her back on the church now to some extent and did have a social drink now and again more out of politeness than any great desire for its effects.
“Yes, all right, but only a small one,” Alyce accepted.
Nina poured from a chilled pitcher, the clear liquid cascading into the stemmed glasses with a refreshing fragrance.
Alyce knew that she was able to cope very well on one martini but against her better judgment and Nina’s insistent urging finally breaking her resistance, she accepted a second.
The young blonde wife found that the Oriental beauty was a wonderful listener, as the alcohol loosened her inhibited feeling and she began to pour out her soul to the older woman. Nina listened with sympathy while Alyce told of her fears and frustrations concerning her sex life with Eddie since their recent wedding.
“My poor, poor, darling,” Nina said with some animation. “You haven’t yet learned that sex isn’t a one-way street. You are every bit as entitled to fulfillment from it as Eddie. You have to make your demands known to your husband or otherwise he can’t know what turns you on. You’ll want to indulge yourself magically in anything that will bring you to full orgasm.”
The Oriental woman’s eyes were bright, excited and she warmed to her topic, as Alyce made objections, saying, “But, Nina, some of the things he wants me to do are filthy, perverted, and unnatural. I’m perfectly willing to do the regular stuff, but this other…”
“Alyce! Good Lord! I’m really astonished that you don’t know that these things are a part of most married couples life. Believe me, there’s nothing wrong with them, as long as you both end up having a genuine sexual experience. Clay and I constantly experiment with new things just to find ways of equally fulfilling each other.”
The conversation went on longer than Alyce had anticipated. Nina got very graphic explaining, naming and describing in detail various positions and techniques for erotic gratification and she felt her cheeks flame as the list grew. It seemed to her that each new category was more depraved than the last, until, finally, her mind was in a whirl, not only from the effects of the alcohol, but also, from the sheer effort of trying to understand Nina’s dissertation and her liberal attitudes toward them.
Finally, in desperate embarrassment, Alyce pleaded a headache and the lateness of the hour, reminding Mrs. Marsdale that she would have to go home as Eddie would soon be home.
Nina had finished her third martini on top of what she had consumed before but Alyce had had the good sense to limit herself to two of the potent drinks. As it was, the Chinese woman was beginning to slur her words, and her genteel vocabulary became salted with more than a few lewd references.
Gradually, Alyce began to see another side of Nina Marsdale. It was the shocking realization that the woman underneath the sophisticated veneer was somewhat lewd, salacious, sometimes vulgar, but not, she conceded, coarse. Vaguely, she began to wonder what the other woman’s background might be, and how it was that she was married to the fabulously wealthy Clay Marsdale. It would be very interesting to know these things, she thought.
Holding the door for Alyce as she left, Nina’s face was flushed slightly and her speech was a slight bit slurred. She extended an invitation to Alyce but this one included her husband, Eddie.
“We’ll have to get that handsome husband of yours off the tennis courts and have you and him over some night. We’ll play some new games. I get so tired of tennis, tennis, tennis. Clay lives, eats and sleeps tennis with very few digressions.”
“That would be nice, Nina,” Alyce assured her. “Just name the day. I’m sure Eddie would be pleased to accept, too.”
“Perhaps we can play a little game of charades demonstrating the ways of sex, huh?”
Alyce didn’t reply. She walked out to her car feeling more than a little bit confused, her head in a whirl and a welter of conflicting thoughts rushing, madly, through her mind.
Did I understand correctly what Nina meant by that last remark? I find it hard to believe that Nina would say those things? Why they’re terribly lewd. I don’t usually even think about such things. All that disgusting stuff that Eddie’s always wanting me to do to him or that he wants to do to me. I don’t care what anyone says. They’re sinful and perverted. But Nina says that most people do those things and really enjoy them. And, she even seemed to be hinting that I could enjoy them too. It’s just all too confusing for me. What does it have to be so filthy?
Eddie was already preparing dinner when Alyce came in. She tried to bring up the noon-time fiasco thinking that if they talked about it, it wouldn’t be such a huge problem. But, to her complete amazement, instead of being furious, he just brushed it aside with an apparent lack of concern.
“It’s no big deal, Alyce. We’ll get it together, yet,” he told her, hardly looking at her.
The young wife began to look forward to their evening together, vowing to herself that she would try to be more responsive in bed with Eddie.
Nina’s little talk this afternoon had had some effect after all and she was really secretly hoping that she would have a second chance to prove that she was a sexually exciting woman. Maybe, she’d even consent tonight to trying out one of those wildly unnatural positions that her new Oriental friend had described to her in detail.
For some reason, though, tonight, Eddie seemed very distracted and she couldn’t figure out why since he’d said that he wasn’t annoyed about the noon-time affair. What could it be?
The blonde newlywed was hoping that her opportunity for a truly fulfilling night with her husband would come to pass this very evening.
But, her hopes were short-lived, when after reading some Tennis News magazine and quickly flipping through the regular newspaper, he announced that he was giving a make-up lesson for two men on backhands and was probably going out later with them for a drink.
Eddie called over his shoulder as he left the house, “don’t wait up for me, Alyce, sometimes I get so involved I forget the time.”
Clay Marsdale arrived home after just having beaten the pants off one of his new pros. The competitive older man was ecstatic when he could still slaughter a much younger man on the courts. He’d done everything else now in life and tennis had become his passion. He parked his Mercedes in the large garage and went directly to his screening room.
Clay was a gadget fanatic and his newest craze was having all matter of video equipment. He had a screening room size video screen and his camcorder was used for more than just playing back the mistakes of tennis students at the clinic.
Anxiously, he took the cartridge out and put it in the machine and with a couple of adjustments the image slowly materialized on the giant screen. There was a knock on the door.
“Clay, darling, are you here?” Nina asked softly.
“Yes, baby, hang on for a second.”
The tape was wound into the machine now and the figures were clearly visible and identifiable. He opened the door to admit his wife.
Nina was carrying a shaker of martinis and two glasses. Clay gratefully accepted one from her and kissed his wife full on the lips. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and he knew that she had quite a headstart on him.
“Just what the doctor ordered,” he said looking over her trim figure.
She was clad in a pair of french cut beige gabardine pants and a pure silk beige silk shirt tied under her breasts and left unbuttoned sufficiently to reveal the cleavage fully exposed and the upper surfaces of her upthrusting breasts swelling out provocatively. There was no underwear line visible under the blouse or the slacks.
The wealthy man sipped appreciatively at the martini, as he gazed at his exotic wife, a slightly suggestive leer beginning to form around his mouth.
“Dry enough for you, darling?” she asked.
“Terrific, just like you.” He reached out a hand to her and cupped a breast in his strong fingers. It was as he had hoped. She was not wearing a bra under her shirt. He felt the beginnings of arousal.
“Did you miss your little wife, Clay?” She pulled away from him and modeled the outfit she was wearing, striking an obscene pose at the end of the demonstration, her hips pulled forward, her arms back, causing her breasts to strain for release from her blouse. Then she undulated her hips, sensually, suggestively, performing a sexually exciting dance just for him.
“Did I…? Christ, do you want me to fuck you right here in the screening room?” His eyes were glazing over with lust.
“Actually I prefer the bearskin in the living room… but I’m not particular, darling,” she teased.
Nina took a sip from her martini and suddenly she noticed that there was something on the screen. “Well, Fellini, what do we have here?” she asked him.
“Oh, these are my new stars,” he said. “You know how I like my little cinema verite.”
Nina laughed and walked closer to the giant screen. “Why, Clay this is really exceptional. Who’s the woman?”
“She’s working part-time in the pro shop. She’s David Dunn’s wife. Her name’s Sally. Sweet little Sally.”
“Sally the sweet little cocksucker,” Nina corrected, “and just look at that hunk of meat she’s got in her mouth. Isn’t that Eddie Frampton she’s sucking off?” she asked a salacious grin curling around the comers of her lips.
“That’s him. The whole package.”
Nina continued watching the action on the screen. “Baby, is he hung, to say the least.”
Clay Marsdale looked at his wife, shrewdly. “You like that piece of meat, huh, baby?”
“And how. I’m getting wet just looking at it,” the Oriental woman said lewdly.
“I thought you would,” he said very sure of himself. “How’d you like to sample it?”
“No samples. I want the full meal!” she exclaimed.
“All right, my darling, he’s all yours. I’m going to have them over Saturday night for cocktails.”
Nina was not at all surprised. “Them?” she asked. “You’re not going to invite them?”
“Of course, them. It’s a package deal, darling. I don’t want one without the other.”
“You don’t know her too well, do you?” Nina asked her voice pointedly sarcastic.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We had a little talk this afternoon and apparently little Ms. Mary Mormon thinks fucking is disgusting or against nature or something. She’s really a goddamn little prude. Getting her to swap, Clay, is going to be a major undertaking.”
“I dare say I can warm her up a little. I probably have a lot more experience than that stud husband of hers.”
“I’m sure you can, dear,” Nina said distractedly. “I’m going to make another shaker of martinis and then I want to see what a stud I’m married to. Don’t go away, lover.” Nina left the screening room swishing her hips at him, provocatively.
He gave her a playful slap on the ass, grabbing at the firm flesh for good measure. “Oh, does my little wife, want to indulge in unnatural behavior this evening?”
“Bet your ass, I do,” she said closing the door.
Clay waited a few minutes and when Nina didn’t return he knew that she was probably playing one of her little games where she wanted him to go in search of her.
The wealthy husband chuckled to himself. This is what kept life interesting, exciting and adventurous. He never knew where Nina would choose to have their little sexual bouts. Clay had had hundreds of women in his lifetime but had always become bored after a while with each but with Nina there was no possibility of boredom. It was almost as if the Oriental woman had been schooled in the ways of delighting a man and indeed she had in her native Taiwan.
Clay eagerly began walking from room to room in the well-equipped mansion. At last, he heard music in the large room where they usually entertained. The room was done in Italian provincial and as he entered he saw the lights had been dimmed and at first he didn’t see his small wife. Usually they chose to hear classical music in this room because it seemed to go with the mood and decoration of the room but tonight Nina had put on a grinding disco record and when he caught sight of her his heart began to beat harder.
In the middle of the room was an imported Italian marble fountain around which were placed statues caned by a master carver from Florence. The statues were in the style of the “David” and all the genitals were executed to scale. Nina was entwined with the white marble statue and she was doing a quick bumping dance, rubbing her female loins, obscenely, against the cold lifelike genitals of the statue.
“So, you’re two-timing me, again!” he said jovially.
“The martini shaker is on the table. Pour them will you darling?” she asked her voice low and throaty.
He went over and poured the fresh drinks, taking a seat to watch his wife’s lewd entertainment.
>From experience she knew that she had his full attention now and suddenly she leaped on top of their heavy glass coffee table where she threw herself with abandon into a wild lewdly exciting dance, her hips moving in circles and the muscles of her belly rippling and undulating in time to the driving disco beat.
Marsdale watched his tiny Oriental wife with fascination. She was a superb dancer and he marveled at her muscular control, the sensuousness of her movements and her projected sexuality that never failed to arouse him. She had kept up with her dancing even after their marriage.
He felt the familiar crawling, tensing sensation in his scrotum and the rush of throbbingly hot blood into his penis, as it began to rise to erection under his tennis gear that he had not changed yet since his arrival home. He wanted to rip off his sports clothes, grab her and lay her on the glass coffee table, but he had found long ago that it was better to play her game.
When she was ready she would let him know. He must wait for her, and he had learned to wait, to reap the benefits of the waiting in heightened enjoyment for both of them.
She ended her dance and Nina Marsdale slid lithely from the glass topped table, casting about an eye for her drink. And then she came to him. Insinuating her narrow hips between his legs, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, long, hard and deep, using her tongue to probe and titillate. After some moments, she broke the hiss and trailed her tongue across his jowls to his ear. Her tongue lashed out, the tip of it drilling into his ear and running in little circles around it.
She whispered, “My darling, Clay.”
The older man set his drink down on the bar and reached for her, grabbing a churning buttock in each hand, he pulled, roughly, to his hardening prick, letting her feel the warmth and stiffness of him.
“Jesus Christ! Nina, you’re hotter than a Taiwan firecracker tonight. I can’t wait!”
Nina twisted from his grasp and twirled across the floor to a new record from the stereo; then, as she came back to the glass table, she continued her dance for a few moments, before sinking slowly to her knees; finally, she lay prone, posing prettily, upon the glass table top with the inlaid Italian mirrors around it.
“Pass me my drink, Clay, darling, I’m starting to fade.”
He handed her the martini. She sipped from it, her lovely slanted eyes smoldering, smokily, at him over the brim of the small glass. She smiled an inscrutable little smile at him.
“What are you waiting for husband, dear?”
With a little smile she rolled to her stomach on the mirrored table, sipping again from her martini.
Clay drained his glass and set it down on the bar. He came off his seat and he came to her running a hand along the smooth contours of her back and bottom. His cock was rock hard, throbbingly alert and ready, and he tried to slip his hand under the waistband of her slacks.
“Not so fast, big boy,” she said teasingly, as she rolled over onto her back.
Clay leaned over her and kissed her hard with his lips and tongue, thrusting deeply into her mouth, sucking the sweet nectar of her. His hands were busy with the buttons of her silk blouse, and the magnificent mounds of firm, full flesh came bursting from their confinement, proudly peaked when he had unbuttoned the last button.
Quickly, he glued his mouth to one nipple, sucking and nipping it to erection, causing her to moan in throaty pleasure, as he massaged the other breast with his hand, kneading the silky, smoothness of them and teasing the pink-hued nipple between his thumb and finger.
At this point, his hand left her breast, and went in search of other things, down across her belly, smoothing down the swell of her gently rounded hip and back to the inside of her thigh to the soft, inner juncture, where he allowed his hand to roam around the fleecy softness of her gently squirming pubic mound. Then, his hand dipped between her thighs, as she parted them for him, allowing him full access to the tight, elastic nether ring of her cunt.
He insinuated his middle finger into the crease, forcing the cloth of her pants into the moist, vaginal opening.
Clay broke the kiss, went around to the end of the table, grabbed his wife by the ankles and heaved her toward him until her buttocks were even with the mirrors of the table. He pulled at her zipper and gave her slacks a hard yank down over her hips, smoothly, suddenly, exposing her warm, slightly throbbing cunt to him, its darkly hair-lined slit staring up at him with moist, viscous droplets of libidinous liquid glistening along the furrow.
Marsdale’s head came down, and he clamped his lips to her cunt, his tongue coming out to find the warm lips of her womanhood, as Nina moaned in ecstatic pleasure above him. He probed into the vaginal canal, tasting the pungency of her, and the moisture of his mouth mingled with the love droplets she emitted there.
The sensations he generated in her loins raced through her like heat lightning. His tongue seared her with its snake-like searchings, and she moved her pelvis upward to his face, draping her legs over his shoulders to afford her more comfort and her husband easier access to the searing seat of her passion.
Clay licked and sucked, his tongue lashing up and down the slit, making plunging forays into the moist channel; finally, discovering the clitoris rising from its soft, hair-lined slit, erupting into hardened erection, pulsating warmly as his tongue circled it, tantalizing it, urging it on to even greater sensation producing, nerve-tingling sexuality.
She reached for his head, grasping the short, bristly scruff and pulled him in closer to her moving her hips in circles under his insistent mouth and tongue, opening her thighs to him, wantonly, invitingly, urging him on to greater enhancement and the more inventive manipulations of his tongue in her cunt.
The husband of the Oriental beauty had just begun to think that he could wait no longer to bury his throbbing cock in her, when he felt her move under him, trying to sit up, as she pushed his head away from her.
She hissed at him, the words coming as naturally to her as the act itself. “Come on Clay. Fuck me now. Shove your fat cock in my cunt and make me scream! Now!”
In a moment he had flung off his tennis whites as she reached down to him, taking his huge cock in her hands, retracting the foreskin smoothly and guiding the red, hooked knob of it to the cunt lips below, and he came into her with a rush, the head entering her vaginal hole with a wetly sliding action, the thick shaft being absorbed entirely, as he thrust up into her with an animal-like lunge.
.“Babeeeeeeeeeeee… babeeeeeeeeeeee!” she groaned as his great cannon was buried in her soft femaleness, the hardness of it ramming into her, deeply to the very core of her existence.
The moist jungle heat of her captured him, enveloped him, as he went into her, the exquisite folds of her cuntal channel clamping around him and he could feel the inner muscles of her vagina caressing his prick, milking it, the sensations torturing him, as he held the length of it in her, not moving yet and his whole being was there in his cock, inside her soft, smooth-walled passage.
Clay began to fuck into her with short, quick thrusts, upward into her pussy, standing there, between her legs, using the strength of his back and powerful legs to ram his huge member home into her tender and softly clasping cunt.
“Harder! Clay, do it faster, harder, deeper. Fuck me and make me feel it!” she gasped out to him.
His huge, blood-engorged member began to drive deeper and longer into her, its breadth pulling the soft, ragged edge of her furrow out with it on each outstroke, revealing the moist, pink lining of her pussy; then, on the plunging instroke, all of it was rammed back into her again.
The tiny Oriental wife could feel the giant staff of him rampaging into her generating her desire, and she could not get enough of him, as she incessantly urged him on with groans of pleasure, interspersed with her specific groaned out demands. Sometimes she chanted in rhythm of their thrashing bodies, her pelvis moving in opposition to him, wildly, in uncontrolled passion.
“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Harder. Harder,” she screamed in a frantic need to be stuffed to the hilt with his cock.
Marsdale ground into his tiny wife, flexing his knees to gain more leverage and strength, as her buttocks squirmed, uncontrollably on the glass-topped table, reflecting her tiny puckered asshole back at him, her pelvis arching upward to take all of this thick cock into her.
“Cock! Cock! More cock!” she began to chant.
Then she began to moan with abandon, in ceaseless agony of delayed orgasm, as his giant cudgel pounded straight into her. Finally, she realized that they needed to be in a different position, so that he could get all of his length into her. She needed it to be deep, hard and punishing to bring her to the climax she so desired for future sanity.
Nina moaned in frustration, “Get on top of me on the table. I can’t get enough of your cock,” she demanded.
Her husband clambered to the cold glass table top and went straight into her again as she pulled her legs up, flexing them up to her chest, her breasts being smashed flat, when he came down on her, pinning her to the mirrored table like a butterfly specimen. He rammed his great prick all the way home in her cunt, his balls slapping against the tiny brown ring of her anus below.
“Clay! I can’t cum like this! Shove your finger in my asshole. Make me cum, darling! Oh hurry! I want you in my asshole, too! Hurry, my darling! Fill me!”
Her husband became all the more inflamed as she kept asking him, urging him and demanding of him, rising to meeting his pistoning cock in her loins. He reached under her, watching the reflection of him lifting her buttocks, easily, driving his prick rhythmically into the moistness of her ever-demanding cunt. He located the crevice of her ass in the mirror and stretched it wide with his hands, searching for that softly pliant nether ring.
Now, he located it with his middle finger and lewdly slipped the tip of it into her wildly flexing rectum, working it in, gradually, until he felt the muscle ring give a little. He pushed harder and the elastic flesh of her anus relaxed, his finger going in to the first knuckle. He felt the shock of it in her body as she recoiled instinctively, screwing her buttocks down and back, away from that punishing digit penetrating into her tight asshole.
“Come on, Clay. Push it in all the way! Right up my ass!” she screamed.
Obediently, he jabbed his finger into her, all the way to the palm of his hand, reaching up into the sponginess of her rectum, burying it in her without mercy.
“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! It hurts! Aaaaahhh! Ooooohhhhhhhhhhh! I luv it! Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she screeched.
The compactly built Oriental wife screwed her ass back against his finger, and he moved it in her, twirling it around in the flesh depths of her back passage. He could feel his prick through the thin wall of tissue separating her vagina from her anal passage as his fat, hardened rod of flesh moved in and out of her. Now, he began to move his finger in time to his cock, skewering her with both punishing instruments, reveling in the ecstasy of the dual ravishment.
Nina mewled, gurgled, moaned and groaned with passion, the sounds coming from deep in her throat, interspersed with sharp gasps of pleasure as he pistoned, smoothly, in and out of her cunt and wildly clenching tiny asshole simultaneously.
Clay knew that she was nearing her climax, as she continued to mouth obscenities, driving him onward to greater effort, his own passion rising and spiraling toward the summit and a final thrusting, jabbing, spewing ejaculation. His cock became even harder and stiffer, growing to full blood-engorged erection, and he was painfully aware of the dammed up flood waiting to be released.
She was wild, delirious and uncontrolled as she came nearer and nearer to her moment, that time of exquisite rapture.
“Oh fuck it! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my ass! Fuck me harder… oh, fuck… fuck meeeeeeeeeee!” she chanted in wild abandon, increasing the speed, demanding her rightfully due orgasm, and she began the rushing, spiraling, giddy flight to the heights, where she felt as though she were a parachutist bailing out of a speeding airplane at fifteen thousand feet, and she was falling free, spinning free in a fall through space, the earth rushing up to meet her in climax; then gently, the brightly-hued umbrella of the parachute exploded over her head and floated her gently back to earth. It was as in a dream that she heard herself.
“I’m cuuuuuuu mmmmmmm iiiiiii nnnnnnn ggggggg… aaaaaaaaaaaaaa hhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
As Nina screamed with the pleasure of her orgasm, Clay was spurred on to his own. He was in her, moving faster and faster, longer and harder and his hardened cock was like a machine, the piston of him moving in her with short, powerful strokes. He felt the load begin in his balls, pumping through the length of his penis, spewing in jerking jets of white viscous sperm far up into her cunt; while the spasms of pleasure shot through him in mind-shattering, body-reeling waves of sensuality.
His cock continued to jump as he collapsed atop her with a huge groan of satiation.
“Jesus Christ!” he groaned. “I’m still cumming… I’m uuuu nnnnn gggg hhh… ccc uuuu mmmmm iiii ninnnn ggggggg!”
In a few moments he rolled from atop her, his now flaccid prick pulling from her with a liquid, sucking sound, trailing a string of semen, as he crawled lazing from the discomfort of the glass table top where he had been able to see everything reflected back.
He went over to the bar and poured two fresh martinis, bringing one to his wife, who, meanwhile had slipped off the table and was now reclining on the brocaded sofa. A vision of golden Oriental loveliness against the whiteness of the rich fabric made his cock begin to pound once more.
As he stretched out beside her, handing her a drink, she said, “You know I had a long talk with Alyce Frampton this afternoon, dear.”
Marsdale was immediately interested. “And what did my nosy little wife find out?”
Nina inhaled deeply from her cigarette before she answered, “You just can’t credit it, Clay, but that ravishingly beautiful girl has never had a decent fuck in her life. She doesn’t get off on sex at all. I guess she’s only been married a few months but it appears that husband of hers doesn’t know what to do with that big hunk of meat of his.”
“Well, I dare say, we can rectify that,” he said leeringly, reaching out for his wife’s pubic mound, still moist from the pleasant departure of a few moments before.
Obscenely, Nina Marsdale opened her thighs wide to his exploring fingers, at the same time taking a large swallow of her martini.
Then, she said dreamily, “I’d like to teach that husband of hers a few things… oh, that hunk of meat, Clay! It’s too wonderful! Can we go back and look at that videotape you made?”
“Sure, darling, just promise me you won’t leave your old daddy for one of those newer models.”
“Never,” she said, giving him a long lingering kiss.
Then, his rummaging fingers had found the bud of her clitoris, and he pressed the button of her sex, the explosion of sensation in her causing her to clamp her thighs tightly together, clamping his hand closely against her, heightening her pleasure. Then, her pelvis began to move in tiny circles of fully re-awakening desire.
“Oh, Clay, there will never be anyone else like you,” she squealed, as she flung herself atop him, pinning his body to the couch, her lips and mouth avid upon him.
Alyce Frampton could not imagine how it was possible that Eddie could be staying out so late with two men discussing their backhands.
Usually, he shunned going out after hours with his students at the tennis clinic and this evening it just didn’t make any sense that he would be out past midnight. She tried to wait up for him as she had read several articles on sexual techniques in marriage and she was eager to show her husband of three months that she was not an uptight little prude, but a loving responsive wife, willing to take pleasure and give pleasure.
Finally, disappointed and worried about the future of her marriage, she had gone to bed; however, she could not sleep. Her mind churned her thoughts into a morass of doubts and suspicions that threatened to drag her into the depths of despair.
The more the young blonde wife tossed and turned and craved for the dark curtain of sleep to spread across the window of her mind, the more alert she became. After what seemed like hours, she resorted to her medicine cabinet’s treasures where she took a sleeping pill. Long before her adulterous husband returned she was dead to the world in her narcotic induced sleep. Eddie was glad to see that she was asleep and he did not try to rouse her.
Another young wife, however, had had a much more exciting evening.
Sally Dunn who was in reality “the couple of guys for backhand makeup lessons and drinks afterwards” had gone to the tennis club at closing time where she had met Alyce’s husband, Eddie. The two adulterers had coupled almost immediately, frantically, tearing at each other’s clothing, exposing the softness and the hardness of flesh and blending them quickly in the headlong pursuit of their carnal desires.
The infinite desperation of their later lovemaking left them both sexually satiated and tingling with delirious mental, emotional and physical exhaustion. Then they had slept nude upon the sofa in the lobby of the darkened tennis club, and when they had awakened it was already two o’clock in the morning.
“Suffering Christ!” he exclaimed, looking at his digital watch. “It’s two o’clock!”
Sally unconcerned crept closer into his arms, snuggling against him and reaching down between them to caress his flaccid cock, in an attempt to arouse him once more.
“Kiss me,” she murmured low and throaty.
Briefly, Eddie kissed her with cool lips, breaking away before tongues were entwined to say, “Sally, for God’s sake! We’ve got to get out of here. What would your husband say and my wife is going to kill me.”
Dreamily Sally offered, “Oh, David’s not expecting me. He’s playing in that tournament so I told him I was going to stay with my sister. The time’s not important to me.”
“Well, why the hell didn’t you tell me before,” he said in a slightly irritated fashion. “We could have gone to a motel or something and I would have made up an excuse for Alyce.”
Sally Dunn merely ignored his annoyance. She wasn’t interested in a petty lecture. There was a big cock at her disposal and she wanted more of it and she would not be detoured from her destination. The pert brunette rolled over on top of him and ground her pelvis down on him, forcing his limp prick to lie in the furrow of her cock-hungry, insatiable cunt while she moved her hips lewdly, demandingly; meanwhile, using her lips and mouth on his body.
As man of the world he pretended to be, Eddie was not in fact that knowledgeable when it came to sex. He would not have believed that he was capable of another sexual bout so soon, but his immense cock began to engorge with blood, rising jerkingly into the moistness of her well-educated pussy-lips.
As soon as she felt the first throbbing of his erection, she slid off him, gripped his big cock in her hands, milking the foreskin back and sucked him to hardened readiness, flopping to her back to take him into her with her legs pulled up to her chest and reveling in the gigantic hunk of pulsating flesh he was sinking into her cunt.
Then, he went into her with a rush with long, slow and deliberate strokes, his ejaculation and climax delayed, he brought her to orgasm until finally she was completely spent, satiated from the unending pleasure of it.
Sally lay on her back, unable to gather the strength to ease him, bring him completion, and he was frantic, fucking into her unresponding cunt, unable to cum again he was so uptight.
Pulling out of her, he knelt over her lips, forcing her to take his aching cock into her mouth. She nibbled on it, finally taking all of him to suck while he moved his pelvis in a motion over her face, forcing her to take even more of him on each downstroke, making her gag as it drove to the back of her throat, her lips turning in as she absorbed him without complaint; while, on the outstroke, her lips pulled out, the pink, inner parts of her mouth showing.
It was hard work, but finally the boiling sperm came hosing through the length of him, spewing the viscous, white semen thickly into her mouth.
She kept swallowing until all of the sticky cum was siphoned from his jerking cock and was consumed. Then, he rolled heavily to his side and slept beside her.
The next time they awakened it was 3AM and they dressed themselves hurriedly in silent exhaustion; both of them totally sexually spent.
Alyce Frampton got up the next day with a sleeping pill hangover and the fervent hope that her husband would have some explanation for his errant ways.
No such explanation was forthcoming. Eddie slept until almost noon as his first group would not start until one o’clock and didn’t even so much as mention the lateness of his arrival home the previous evening.
Alyce tried to be as pleasant as possible under the circumstances but her husband seemed to be ignoring her.
When finally, he picked up one of his new fiberglass racquets and threw a white sweater over his shoulders and abstractly waved good-bye without kissing her, she feared the worst. It was the first time in the three months since they had been married that he had failed to kiss her good-bye and to the already fearful, suspicious wife it was almost a sign that it was all over.
The gnawing question in her mind surfaced suddenly, punching her in the gut with its intensity. What if Eddie’s already found another woman? Someone to do all those horrible perverted things with…
Alyce didn’t know that she was the third of three wives that evening in what was turning into a little circle. Unfortunately, she was the only one out of the three, Nina Marsdale, Sally Dunn had both had a wildly satisfying bout of sexual ecstasy. Alyce didn’t know that she was the only one hanging out there in sexual frustration she only knew that something was dreadfully wrong and she wanted the score to change.