BH-7361  Swap City Hustlers [aka 'Love To Swap' or 'The Wife Had To Swap']
(Marsha Alexander)


CONTENTS 

Introduction 
CHAPTER ONE - Mutual Fun at the Exchange 
CHAPTER TWO - Two Day Rally 
CHAPTER THREE - Aboveboard Lover 
CHAPTER FOUR - Hank's Special Dividend 
CHAPTER FIVE - Sharing the Assets 
Conclusion 
Bibliography 

 * * * 

INTRODUCTION 

"The cabin was cathedral-like in design and magnificence. A huge A-frame, it 
had one wall of nearly all glass with inserts of stained glass on either 
side and in a triangular shape at the apex of the window. I could imagine 
how it would look in early morning, with streaks of sunlight shooting 
through that colored glass, a beautifully conceived frame for the landscape 
of snow and mountains and lake outside. It was obvious that the owners of 
the cabin had taste and imagination. 

"Reed put his arm around me as we chatted briefly with our host, who 
insisted I call him Brad. He was older, with a greying mustache and 
sideburns, and that orangy-tanned face of the very well cared for, the very 
rich. He was good-looking in a way that had nothing to do with facial 
features. For a man in his fifties he had a firm, muscular body, and the 
tight slacks he wore made a promise out of every word he said. 

"Sandra, Brad's wife, soon detached herself from the small group of couples 
she'd been drinking with, and her beautiful face was alive with excitement 
as she came over to us. "Key game, darling?" she asked her husband, touching 
his arm. 

"A look of mild irritation crossed Brad's face, reminding me of a little boy 
on the verge of boredom and frustration. "No. We did that last time." He 
sipped his drink absently for a moment, then gave a hint of a smile. 
"Musical chairs. At least we haven't tried that for a while. And I feel 
energetic tonight!" 

"Sandra kissed his cheek and turned to the others, her flame red gown 
spiraling out around her. 

"Brad wants musical chairs! Girls, you all know where the bedrooms are!" She 
was like an especially lovely teenager announcing a round of 
spin-the-bottle. 

"I looked at Reed quickly, but he just nodded. Sandra returned and took my 
hand. "Come, darling, you're the only newcomer tonight. You may have the 
master bedroom!" 

"I resisted an urge to glance back at Brad as I let the honey-haired woman 
lead me up the compelling flight of wrought iron stairs. Down the long, 
highly waxed wooden hallway the other women were disappearing into rooms, 
and I couldn't help feeling a sudden twinge of sexual excitement. The name 
of the game we were about to play sounded suspiciously obvious, and I felt a 
fluttery helpless feeling because now, this second time, it was going to be 
so much easier than the first . . . already I was feeling my nipples 
stiffening and my hot juices beginning to flow.. . . 

"Here, Adele, isn't it lovely?" Sandra waved her hand to include the huge 
bed with its lush tapestry spread, the simple yet elegant furnishings, the 
chocolate fuck rug and the dazzling assortment of antique music boxes and 
cut-glass spray bottles which artfully cluttered the top of a richly carved 
ancient vanity with a curving mirror which reflected both of us. 

"Lovely," I repeated, meaning it. Then Sandra spoke again on her way out, 
and my appreciation for the interior decorating was forgotten. 

"Undress quickly, darling. The men have never been known for their patience. 
Oh, and only one rule-should you find yourself with your own man. . . . " 
she giggled, then flicked off the light as she stood poised in the doorway, 
"you must do something you've never done to each other before. I don't think 
that's possible with Brad and myself, but do try. Have fun!" 

"I undressed with only the light from the dim hallway to see by. Placing my 
gown over the back of a chair, I quickly got into the big bed. Already I 
could hear the sound of footsteps in the hall, muted giggles from the other 
rooms, and the soft, final thuds of doors being closed. The sounds made what 
would come next a reality, and I gently pinched a nipple to keep from 
enduring the sweet ache another moment. Then a man quickly stepped into the 
room and closed the door. 

"I held my breath in the darkness, releasing it when the bed sagged under 
the weight of another body. A hand reached out, slid up my body, rested 
against my cheek, and then he was kissing me, his tongue going into my mouth 
while a hand went to my naked breast. It felt firm and hot and demanding, 
and my hard nipples swelled against the palm, wanting to be crushed. 

"Adele? You Reed's girl, Adele?" The voice was deep and masculine, but 
completely unknown to me. 

"Yes," I whispered, closing my eyes and responding to the rough hand 
squeezing my flesh. 

"I got the jackpot, first try. It's going to be a great night," he said, 
pulling away from me. 

"The sensual, wonderful feel of his hand on me was so good that I reached to 
bring him back. 

"He laughed. "Hot little bitch, huh? Fine. That happens to be just the way I 
like them. Don't worry, baby, I'm not going anywhere. I just want to get rid 
of these clothes. You'll like me even better without them." 

"My face flamed in the darkness as I waited, and then he was back, his body 
long and hot and hard against me. I'd pulled the spread back and had managed 
to free a sheet from the bedding, which I'd used to cover myself, though I'd 
smiled at this lingering touch of modesty. My partner now peeled off the 
sheet, chuckling a little as he fitted his body to mine. It felt so good, 
this fleshy kiss. 

"Who . . . I don't know who you are," I whispered finally, after another 
deep, wet kiss. His tongue inflamed me as it explored the inside of my 
mouth, and I moaned as he kneaded my breasts with both strong hands. 

"Does it matter? Jess, baby. Now do you remember?" 

"I didn't, but I realized he was right. What did it matter? He was fiting 
his knees inside my legs and my hot young body was responding. His cock 
attracted me like a magnet, and I felt my hips lifting and swaying, my 
juicing cunt attempting to plaster itself against his bar of throbbing 
flesh. I thought briefly of Reed, off in another bedroom, plying his 
wonderful prick or snake-like tongue on another woman's body. But I couldn't 
hold the jealous thought very long, not with hands touching me, lips kissing 
me, a cock seeking my slit. . . . 

"You move like you haven't had any for a month! Jesus, I love a hot bitch!" 
Jess ducked his head and began to suck my nipples, going from one to the 
other and then back again. "You have beautiful tits, baby. You're beautiful 
all over. . . ." His hand worked across my body, moving over my belly and 
dropping to the insides of my thighs. 

"I moaned softly as he began to play with my moist slit. He used one finger 
to scout ahead and explore my inflamed clitoris and then he brought his 
thumb up, sinking it deeply inside my body. With his other hand he brought 
my sweating palm to his swollen cock. "Just play with it nice, Adele. That's 
it. . . . Don't pump it too much or I'll come all over your hand. That's 
good. . . . " 

"From the next bedroom I could hear a muffled scream of orgasm. It made me 
wonder if it had been Reed who had skillfully evoked that outcry. It was so 
strange, to wonder that-and care, too-even while my hand stroked and rubbed 
the throbbing cock of another man. 

"Jess pulled away. "You keep playing real nice like that, hear. Just don't 
stop. Don't get too vigorous until you feel yourself start to come." 

"I held on tightly while the rest of him moved over me. I felt the strong, 
hairy length of his leg brush my shoulder, and finally he was across me, 
half on his side, his cock poised so that I had easy access to it while his 
head was cushioned between the softness of my inner thighs. 

"I held my breath as he began kissing and nibbling on my tender flesh. He 
played close to my aching core, but he was content to tease me for a while. 
Excited by the game, I began to sway my hips in an attempt to force his face 
on my hot and eager pussy. Meanwhile my hand tugged urgently on his prick 
and fondled his balls. It was crazy, his doing that to me, and finally I 
began to whimper in frustration. 

"Something troubling you, baby?" He sucked a mouthful of flesh so close to 
my cunt that I could feel his breath on my pulsating clitoris. 

"Oh, don't tease me anymore, Jess. Please! Do it, please! Do it to me. . . 
." I pleaded, my free hand going helplessly to the back of his head, as if 
to force him to do as I asked. 

"Do what, doll? Tell me what you want me to do. . . ." He licked his wet 
tongue down over the edge of my mound, his chin tickling the wiry dark 
hairs. 

"I began jerking on his meat while my hips did a drum roll against his face. 
Jess either had a very effective approach toward women in general, or he was 
very perceptive about the way I liked my sex. I was so hot that I'd have 
begged on bended knee, if he'd wanted me to. 

"And easy on that cock, honey, or I'll shoot off and that'll be the end of 
our fun, even before you get any. . . ." 

"Immediately I stopped my frenzied beating of his flesh and arched my back, 
thrusting and opening my cunt for him. "Please," I whimpered, "please eat 
me. Lick my pussy. Please, Jess, I can't stand it. Don't tease me any more. 
Lick it! Lick it!" His hot breath was right on my pussy now; I could feel 
the juices dripping from my slit. 

"Still he took his time about it. First he carefully lapped the hairy flesh 
of the outer lips while parting them with his sensitive fingers. Then he 
began tonguing the velvety inner folds, avoiding the throbbing button which 
ached for his attentions. Finally I felt the tip of his tongue quiver 
against the bottom of my clitoris, and I began to moan like a hurt child. 
Then, with no further warning, Jess sucked the entire marble of my throbbing 
clit into his mouth. He began to suck and lick it as if it were a little 
cock, and my body went wild from his unexpected direct manipulation. When 
Reed or other men had licked me it was always a slow and sweet building to 
orgasm, but Jess was attacking me as if he wanted to force my come. It was 
like being tongue raped, and at first I tried to slow him down, moderate his 
actions. 

"No! Please, don't . . . not so rough! Ooh, Jess . . . no . . . no. . . . 
It's too much. . . . Go easy, please. Ooh . . . I can't . . . dont . . . I 
can't take it.. . ooh.. . ." I used both my hands on his head, weakly trying 
to pry his sucking mouth from my delicate clitoris. But he just reached up 
without a pause and returned my hands to his body, pressing one to his 
pounding cock and the other to his swollen balls. 

"Helplessly I moaned and twisted on the bed, my hands fondling him 
passionately as he wished me to, my sensitive cunt a prisoner to his darting 
tongue, sucking mouth and sharp, nipping teeth. I felt as if I were tumbling 
headfirst into a black pit. It was a violent kind of sex, painless and yet 
almost too painful to bear. The fierce sensations rocked my body as his 
tongue lashing continued, and when finally he brought his strong hands up to 
squeeze and mold the tender flesh of my breasts I began to jerk my hand 
frantically over his throbbing cock. I could sense the hot come gathering in 
his balls and moving up for the final eruption, but I barely felt the thick 
cream explode over my hand. I was too busy biting back the scream which 
swept over me as my own body suddenly buckled and went wild. It was like 
finally descending to the bottom of that black pit, and I cried out with the 
most violent orgasm I'd ever known. . . . 

"Only then did he grudgingly release his sucking mouth from my aching 
clitoris. . . . 

"As if in a dream I watched the man wipe his hot come off his belly and 
leave the room. "We'll have to do that again real soon, honey," he said, 
throwing me a kiss. The door barely closed behind him before it again opened 
and another man entered the room, his clothing in his hand. 

"Fortunately, this one only wanted to fuck me. . . . " 

In our society it is usually customary to turn to the experts when one 
desires answers. We are a culture of specialization and scientific 
certainty, and we are frustrated when an attempt to scrutinize the changing 
sexual outlets of modern man by slide-rule techniques so often fails 
miserably. Man is an enigma insofar as his needs change drastically 
according to such unstable factors as his era and geography, while his 
desires shift and expand with lightning speed, and often without apparent 
provocation. In no area of life is this more obvious or interesting than his 
sexual desire and activity. 

A generation or two ago the safety and security of a marriage revolved in 
part around sexual fidelity. A model union was one where there was no hint 
of extramarital indulgences, and a marriage would securely fit in that 
select catagory as long as there was no knowledge of adultery. Any outside 
loving had to be hidden and meetings clandestine, and success was judged not 
so much by what "really" went on, but by maintaining an impeccable 
appearance. It was the Kinsey research group which revealed the 
then-startling opinion, based on its study, that adulterous affairs which 
are not known to one's mate can actually help enhance and preserve one's 
marriage rather than serve to sabotage or destroy it. The keynote here is 
the secretiveness of the extra-marital affair. 

The hazards to this kind of action are obvious. Albert Ellis, in his book 
Sea; Without Guilt, comments on the major drawback of such a devious means 
of sexual activity: 

Because people in our culture believe adultery to be inimical to marriage, 
husbands and wives who engage in extramarital relations generally have to do 
so secretly and furtively. This means that they must be dishonest with their 
mates; and, although their adultery, in itself, might not harm their 
marriages, their dishonesty about this adultery . . . may well prove to be 
harmful. 

A new openness and concentration on attempting mutual honesty became a 
popular subject in the suburbs of America in the last decade. More and more 
couples were admitting that sex with the same partner night after night, 
year after year was less satisfying than they had anticipated, and that the 
guilt and dishonesty which accompanied infidelity drastically reduced the 
pleasures of the act. It was in quiet suburbia that wife-swapping was 
launched, formally and enthusiastically, and the entire world read with 
fascination everything from eager testimonials plugging mate swapping as a 
marriage saver to sensationalistic suicide-murders attributed to this new 
couples game which had quickly replaced bridge at Friday night 
get-togethers. 

The whole concept of monogamy became suspect and was reevaluated. In the 
book Psychology of Sex Havelock Ellis writes: 

Until modern times monogamy has been regarded as the only legitimate form of 
marriage for our Western civilization. Indeed that has for the most part 
been assumed and taken for granted without discussion; any exceptional 
person who disputed this dogma, or even discussed it, was regarded, and 
usually in fact was, a crank, a negligible eccentric, if not something much 
worse. Today the question of the form of marriage cannot thus be taken for 
granted and dismissed, as a matter that has forever been fixed be religious, 
ethical, legal, and social regulations. 

The custom of exchanging wives has been observed in many parts of the world. 
The Bany-ankoles of Central Africa invariably exchanged wives when they 
visited together. Once a similar custom prevailed among the natives of the 
Hawaiian Islands. Jokes are made about these wife-lending customs of the 
Eskimo, yet it is a time-honored folkway which is devoid of salacious 
overtones. The exogamous concept of lending wives to foreigners and other 
outsiders in the hope of producing nobler offspring is common practice in 
one form or another among many primitives, often as part of their religions. 
Marco Polo wrote: 

In Eastern Tibet no man considered it dishonorable if a foreigner had 
relations with his wife or daughter or sister or other woman of the family. 
On the contrary, it was deemed an act of good fortune. Such was their 
superstition that they considered it would bring the favor of their gods and 
idols, and presaged an increase in temporal prosperity. 

The swapping of wives between the Himalayan mountaineers was a usual 
practice when two men became angry or disgusted with their respective mates. 
This exchange would hopefully effect an improved domestic arrangement. If 
nothing else, it would help relieve boredom. 

The leap from religious or sanctioned customary mate swapping to the 
clandestine suburban weekend switch party is both broad and divergent. It 
violates the taboos of our culture and has no friend in any of our popular 
religions. In the conventional vow of matrimony adultery, in any form, is 
mentioned negatively. By Judeo-Christian standards adultery is one of the 
ten most forbidden sins. Even in the face of our rapidly changing sexual 
mores we still give face value to the inviolability of the marriage bed. 
While extramarital sex has been a popular source for novelists, theologians, 
psychologists, and statisticians, and has filled more joke books than 
practically any other human diversion, it has only recently moved from the 
wrong side of the tracks to the family playroom. A generation ago adultery 
per se was considered a lesser crime if the "guilty" party had the "decency" 
to be discrete and not "foul the nest" with his-or her -transgressions. But 
generations earlier still, in various sophisticated societies, a gentleman 
of means who did not maintain a mistress was guilty of showing poor style. 
Their wives, however, were not permitted such luxuries. Times change. If 
grandfather sometimes dallied with a woman other than grandma and she found 
out about it, she might have been likely to pretend ignorance. It would not 
cross her mind to play a similar game with some mutton-chopped stranger. It 
would even have been rarer for her to confront her husband with his deed, 
and rarer still for her to protest indignantly what he had done. Grandma was 
"moral" if she was anything, and grandfather knew it. So who was he 
diddling, then, if the grandmas of the world were so moral? He was out with 
the opposite, of course, the vamp, that tramp, the lady who would and didn't 
ask for an affidavit of marital status first. But changing times produce new 
standards all the way around. We've taken our people beyond the all-good, 
all-bad fantasy, and now when pop's out with his boss' secretary his wife 
might be out with the boss. When the tip-toeing around, 
catch-as-catch-can-but-don't-tell-your-mate sex clashed with the out-front 
mutual honesty approach, the next cultural step would be a combination of 
the two, the extramarital sex conducted openly and, ideally, unemotionally 
so that the security of the marriage would not be threatened. 

The larger possibilities of suburban swapping eventually were considered, 
such as developing sexual freedom leagues, using the free and easy sexuality 
to experiment with new emotional situations such as group marriages and 
sensitivity seminars, and, in a more down-to-earth vein, to utilize mate 
swapping to an economic advantage. From swapping with the neighbors it was a 
tempting natural step to swap with the boss or the would-be account, and 
quickly wife-swapping began to appeal to the higher economic classes, where 
the leisure time might be greater, the business pressures more intense, and 
the conventional needs and desires easily gratified so that more bizarre 
desires are created. The man on Wall Street is a prime example. He is a 
member of good standing in the affluent society, and by our standards, a 
success. He lives well, is vitally involved in the economy of a nation, 
indeed the entire world, and he has most of the comforts his "class" offers. 
He has long ago filled his real and practical needs, and even the contrived 
ones of a generally affluent nation. Samuel Johnson said: 

Some desire is necessary to keep life in motion ; he whose real wants are 
supplied, must admit those of imagine. 

And again: 

Where necessity ends, desire and curiosity begin; no sooner are we supplied 
with everything nature can demand, then we sit down to contrive artificial 
appetites. 

Add to that the realization that material success doesn't necessarily 
indicate emotional success or fulfillment and it becomes obvious why Henry 
Van Dyke, the American clergyman and author, once quipped: "You never see 
the stock called Happiness quoted on the exchange." 

The men and women involved in the world of Wall Street are, in many ways, a 
select and privileged group. Their social position and financial solvency 
allow them a second look at that which is socially condemned or approved. 
They can "make" the law in some cases, "set" the standards. John Kenneth 
Galbraith considered that aspect thoughtfully in his book, The Affluent 
Society: 

Because economic and social phenomena are so forbidding, or at least so 
seem, and because they yield few hard tests of what exists and what does 
not, they afford to the individual a luxury not given by physical phenomena. 
Within a considerable range he is permitted to believe what he pleases. He 
may hold whatever view of this world he finds most agreeable or otherwise to 
his taste. 

Because of this he may experiment a bit, and titillate himself with new and 
blatant sexuality, and once his behavior is begun it may be the snowballing 
vanguard of a new standard in freedom for the daring and "with-it" group 
which was known until recently as the model of convention. In attempting to 
find new avenues for leisure satisfaction and heightened experience, sex is 
never too far afield. The structure of marriage, calling for monogamy, 
easily comes under scrutiny. Perhaps because it's not a natural animal 
condition. Morton M. Hunt, in The Natural History of Love, points out: 

By and large, faithful monogamy does not seem to be a natural pattern, but a 
socially fabricated one; even so, it is rare to the point of seeming almost 
abnormal. . . . 

And, finally: 

Fidelity thus seems to some scholars difficult, unnatural, and greatly 
overpriced, and the insistence on it the cause of hypocrisy, guilt, 
unhappiness, and broken marriage. 

With the natural stimulation the thought of sex with a new partner often 
produces, plus the thought-provocation of ideas such as the above, coupled 
with a freedom from the mundane afforded by the luxury of affluence and the 
built-in rationale of mutual honesty, it is no wonder that mate swapping has 
its appeal to this segment of society. Add to this the typical (if hidden) 
resentment of discovering in marriage that monogamy doesn't necessarily 
continue to be an all-consuming, gratifying sexual expression, which is 
particularly irritating since we're so often brainwashed into believing an 
ideal marriage is one where the initial flame of excitement continues to 
burn forever. The wise Dorothy Parker once wrote: 

By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his 
passion is 

Infinite, undying Lady, make a note of this: 

One of you is lying. 

It may not yet be possible to evaluate the effect of mate swapping on the 
society or to understand all the factors involved, but an examination of the 
case histories in this study testifies to one point-swapping is a current 
pastime of the affluent scions of Wall Street, and, if their behavior 
recalls the antics of the ancient Romans just before the fall, we might give 
thought to that time-honored quote from George Santayana: "He who will not 
learn from History may be forced to repeat it." 

* * * 

 CHAPTER ONE - Mutual Fun at the Exchange 

"Sitting in the air-conditioned office while I waited for Fred to finish his 
call so we could hopefully slip away for lunch, I grudgingly admitted to 
myself that there was a certain stir of excitement to the business. I'd been 
waiting close to an hour for my husband to be free, but call after call kept 
him at his desk, and each call seemed more important, more urgent than the 
last. I tried to decide whether that made my resentment of Fred stronger or 
lessened it slightly. 

"I'd talked about it to Charlotte, whose husband Lew was Fred's partner, and 
she agreed that being married to a stockbroker was slowly driving her wild. 

"Sure, the money's fine, and I'm glad Lew doesn't have to do work he detests 
or anything, but sometimes I think I might just as well not be there, for 
all he notices or cares. No, that's not exactly fair, I guess. Lew does 
care. It's just that I run a poor second to business. The market fascinates 
and stimulates him, and I can't. Wonder diets and daily workouts not 
withstanding." 

"I knew what Charlotte meant. At thirty-three she was a knockout. An 
ex-stewardess, Charlotte had kept her trim figure, but desperation had 
pushed her a step further. Exercises, expensive facials, the finest of 
hairdressers, expert grooming and beautiful clothing combined to do the 
utmost for her. She was tastefully sexy, but with class. Any man would be 
proud to have this red-haired woman for a wife, and Lew was, I suppose, in a 
distracted sort of way. But as far as giving the kind of attention all that 
trying deserved, he and Fred were equally guilty. 

"Not that I'm hard to take, either. I modeled bathing suits at one of the 
best department stores in the city before I met Fred, and that kind of work 
requires a good body. While I'm not what you'd call a perfect beauty, I know 
how to enhance what I have, and Charlotte's shown me a thing or two about 
creating something nature didn't give, such as a beautiful cap of blonde 
curls in place of my naturally brown straight hair. At thirty I get as many 
propositions and whistles as I did at eighteen. I'm never ignored at 
parties. But when it comes to Fred, I'm just . . . there. We've reached the 
point where nothing much was happening in the relationship. Oh, we loved 
each other. It wasn't that. But there was no excitement in our lives. The 
living together part of it. That's where the resentment came in. Fred and 
Lew had something stimulating in their world. It was different for them. All 
day long they dealt with important things, moving and directing the flow of 
economy, remaining swept up in a moving world while we stayed in limbo, our 
world having stopped when we got married. 

"The worst of it was we couldn't help seeing their point of view about 
things when they showed no desire to come home and show us a lot of 
attention. The pressures and strains of their high-powered days at work left 
them drained, and, though it hurt, I knew it was difficult getting up a lot 
of excitement towards the women they had been sleeping with for ten or 
twelve years. Not that the knowledge made any of it easier. 

"At first I tried hard to pretend it wasn't a sexual need I was feeling. I 
chose to think of it in terms of a family problem. Our daughter Sandy went 
to school upstate, and while she couldn't feel the lack of a father from 
that distance, it did affect her when she was home. Charlotte had two kids, 
and Lew had little energy for them, either, so it was easy to call our 
situation a family problem. 

"Who are we kidding?" Charlotte said one day while we were lunching in town. 
"It's sex, April. Nothing but raw, delicious sex. Or, in this case, the lack 
of it." 

"I think it's a little more complex than that," I began to argue, but 
Charlotte shook her pretty head impatiently. 

"Sure. It's a dozen or more other things, too. Everything's complex. But 
it's the sex that really bugs us. How long has it been since you've had an 
orgasm?" 

"With anyone else I'd have turned a delicate shade of red, but I was used to 
Charlotte's outspokenness. "A week or so," I answered after a pause. 

"How was it?" 

"How was what? It just was, you know?" There were times when she exasperated 
me, much as I loved her. 

"She looked at me for a moment, and though I expected her sudden, flashing 
smile, it didn't come. "Don't play games with me, April. I'm asking for your 
own good. How long has it been?" 

"Seeing that she was serious I gave the question some real thought. For some 
reason I seemed to be having trouble thinking about the two of us in bed 
together, which was crazy, because sex had always been so good for us. "I 
don't know, Charlotte. A month or so, I'd say.' A sudden flare of heat 
licked between my thighs as I remembered that last time. We'd gone to a 
party and Fred had had too much to drink, and he'd used his tongue on me for 
the first time in a long while. 

"That's about what I thought. Me too. And you think sex isn't our big 
problem? Ha!" She tapped her long fingernail on the rim of her cocktail 
glass. "They're tired of us. It's that simple. They get variety and 
stimulation at work each day, then they come home to a comfortable rut. It's 
a wonder that they haven't located themselves a couple of mistresses." 

"I tried to imagine Fred with another woman. "What can we do about it?" 
Nervously I tried to imagine Fred with another woman for a wife. I could 
just see some smart girl looking at him as a fine passport to a life of 
comfort and ease. It could happen. It had happened to more than one of our 
friends. 

"I have an idea, April, dear. It has to do with throwing in a little variety 
and stimulation. Come over to my house this evening for dinner, you and 
Fred, and afterwards . . . well, just follow my lead, huh? And be prepared 
for anything." 

"There was no getting her to say another word, so I returned home curious 
and thinking harder about my marriage and sex life than I ever had before. 
Charlotte had left me with one question as I'd gotten out of her car: 
'What's your biggest fear about Fred making love to another woman?" When I 
didn't answer she told me hers. "Some little bitch might try to take him 
away from me. For a nice, cushy future. If our husbands have to stray a 
little in order for them to regain an interest in sex, what say we choose 
partners for them, huh?" 

"I took a long, worried bath, my mind playing with Charlotte's words. 
Finally, unable to stand it, I toweled myself dry, slipped into a robe and 
headed for the phone next to my bed. She answered at once. "Come on, Char, 
what have you in that little sneaky mind of yours? I've been thinking about 
what you said and the way Fred's interest in sex with me has gone downhill 
in the last year or two, and I think you're right, damn it. He is bored, and 
I don't know how long he'll stay bored before he does something about it." 

"April, if Lew was going to make love to another woman I'd want her to be 
someone who wouldn't try to take him from me. I'd want it to be someone I 
liked and trusted. Someone like you." 

"In the background I could hear the nervous tapping of Charlotte's 
fingernail against something wooden. "Do you mean. . . . " 

"Wait, let me finish. It's only a matter of time and you know it. There are 
just too many available girls. And once they start playing behind our backs 
it's all over. The guilt on Lew's part, and the suspicion on mine, would 
kill our marriage even if the cheating didn't. It's true for Fred, too. But 
if we give them variety right at home, so to speak, what could we lose? I 
find Fred attractive and sexy, but I wouldn't want to take him away from 
you. And I know Lew would never take Fred's place with you." 

"I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. I had to think about it. 
Finally I told Charlotte as much, then I hung up. The bed looked inviting 
with its silky spread and I stretched out on it, letting the robe fall open. 
I didn't know if Charlotte had gone crazy or sane, but the thought of Fred 
making love to Charlotte was very different from the concept of Lew making 
love to me. Lew looked like a man who knew what to do in bed. The thought 
gave me a fluttery feeling in the pit of my belly, and I could almost feel 
his hands on me. Shivering, I pulled my robe closed and tried to imagine 
Fred with Charlotte. I knew he thought she was attractive, and I also knew 
that certain things she did, like the way she incessantly tapped her 
fingernails, drove him up the walls. But I also knew he'd most likely adore 
making love to her. 

"It was difficult to feel overly threatened, though, since Fred knew 
Charlotte so well that all the mystery and most of the romance would have to 
be gone even if they did a bed scene. It wouldn't be like his going off with 
some strange woman. . . . Charlotte wasn't creating problems out of air. I 
knew how passionate Fred could be, used to be, and how much he loved sex. It 
had to be the sameness which was affecting him, and what affected Fred, 
affected me. Was that why I'd noticed a slight depression lately, I'd 
wondered? Charlotte was right. It had been a long time since I'd had any 
good sex, and I was far too young to give it up. 

"By the time Fred came home I'd done my hair and nails and carefully shaved 
my legs. I was slipping into a new, attractive dress with a dipping neckline 
and a figure-stressing cut. I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup 
when he came into the bedroom. He kissed my cheek vaguely, then took a 
second look. 

"Hey, you look ready for a big night. Are we going out?" 

"I nodded. T called you earlier, remember? Honestly, Fred, I don't think you 
listen to me half the time." 

"Oh! We're having dinner at Lew's, right? Damn. I was hoping I'd get a 
chance to see that new TV show." 

"I couldn't help smiling. "Oh, I don't think you'll be too bored.' It was 
funny, but now that I had had a few hours to think about it, I was more than 
a little excited at the whole idea. Somehow the thought of being with 
another man had never really come to my mind. At heart I was an 
old-fashioned girl who put aside such thoughts when I accepted my marriage 
ring. But I was beginning to see that times had changed and I hadn't. 
Charlotte was a sophisticated woman who wasn't afraid to try new things when 
she could see the old ones weren't doing a good enough job. Without her 
ideas and prodding I would have been willing to mindlessly let things 
progress to the point of such boredom that Fred would have found himself 
some excitement which had nothing to do with me, and that would have been 
that. This way, well, if I couldn't keep up with Fred at work, I sure could 
keep pace with him after work. 

"The knowledge of what might happen was so exhilarating that it made me look 
and feel like a kid again. Fred kept looking at me as if I were crazy, but 
at least he was looking at me. That was one point ahead, already. 

"Charlotte didn't look half bad, either, and I could swear Lew had taken a 
careful second shave since coming home. From the way his eyes touched mine 
during dinner I knew Charlotte had told him her idea, and it was pretty 
obvious he was all for it. His gaze followed me around the room, and I have 
to admit that it was flattering. Lew was not only a successful man, he was 
also quite attractive, with dark hair and eyes and the body of an athlete. 
He wore his suit well, and for the first time I found myself checking him 
out closely, wondering why I hadn't noticed how appealing he was before 
this. 

"Dinner was delicious, and the maid served it and disappeared. I ate 
lightly, only enough to appease my hunger, and I drank a little more than 
usual. A sharp tension filled the room, and only Fred seemed his usual self. 
It seemed unreal to me that he didn't sense something different in the air, 
but he ate and talked shop as usual, and if he noticed that Charlotte was 
especially delicious herself, he didn't say anything. 

"We had coffee and brandy in the playroom later, and Fred and Lew shot a 
game of pool while we watched. Even that was different. Lew kept asking me 
if I wanted to take his shot, a thing he'd never have done before, and 
Charlotte kept brushing up against Fred and raving about every good shot he 
made. The whole thing was so sexy, in an unspoken way, that I felt myself 
getting all hot and wet, and I kept finding my mind drifting off to images 
of myself in bed with Lew, and I wondered what he liked, and if he'd like my 
body. . . . 

"It was Charlotte's show, all the way, and when she began to tease Fred 
about his long-ago promise to show her how to do a trick dive he knew, Lew 
and I encouraged Fred to teach her immediately. Lew even got him a pair of 
trunks so he'd be without an excuse. Fred changed and the two of them went 
out to the pool. 

"Shouldn't we have gone with them?" I asked, smiling nervously at Lew. He 
seemed very big now that we were alone. 

"Then what would have been the point in sending them away?" He took my drink 
and his and led me to the large plush couch. "I think this is a fine idea, 
April. I always did think Fred was the luckiest man I knew." 

"He kissed me then, softly at first, getting me used to him, and then his 
lips closed more firmly over mine. 

"I wasn't surprised at the strength of my reaction to his kisses. It had 
been a long time since I'd been this close to anyone other than my husband, 
and it had been a long time since Fred had made me feel this way. It was the 
newness, the strangeness of what we were doing, and I felt excited and like 
a teen-ager with her first man. When he began to play with my breasts over 
my dress I was glad I'd not had to wear a bra and that my nipples hardened 
so swiftly to his touch. I was feeling very sophisticated and daring, and I 
was far readier than I should have been from a few touches and kisses. 

"I'm not insane for this couch bit. We'll leave it for them. Let's go get 
comfortable.' Lew stood up and pulled me to him. We kissed again, slowly and 
deeply, our tongues merging while our bodies stretched and pressed together, 
fitting themselves in preparation for what would soon happen. The crotch of 
my brief lacy panties dampened as if I'd sprung a leak somewhere. 

"In spite of all the times I'd entered the bedroom in this house it was 
never like this. Everything looked new and strange, mostly because I'd 
always thought of it as Charlotte's bedroom, and now it was suddenly Lew's 
bedroom. "Where will they go?" I asked, thinking of them for the first time. 

"He shrugged. "Probably over to your house. While the kids and the maid 
never wander around at night I doubt they'd want to stay out by the pool or 
use the couches or even the guest room which doesn't lock. Are you worried 
about it or them?" 

"I giggled as he kissed the back of my neck while his fingers fumbled with 
the zipper. "No. Not really. I just.. . I just wondered if we were taking 
the best room. . . . " 

"We sure are. Isn't it fun?" The zipper hissed open and my hands 
automatically flew up to keep the loosening dress in place. Gently but 
firmly he removed my hands. "Let me see, April. I've always been curious 
about those beautiful things." 

"I sat still as he pushed my hands out of the way and eased my dress down to 
my waist. My breasts were full and very firm, and they stood sharply away 
from my ribs, shadowing them and making them even larger looking by 
contrast. 

"Lew touched one of the large nipples and rolled it between his fingertips 
as if in awe. I felt a stab of pride, because no matter how beautiful 
Charlotte was, she didn't have a bust line which could hope to compete. His 
mouth closed over one immediately, even while his fingers were still tugging 
on the other. I love having my nipples sucked and nibbled, love it, go 
absolutely wild over it, and Lew was doing it so nicely that I just had to 
moan a little and let him know how much he was turning me on. 

"He was instantly so turned on I couldn't believe it. After eight years of 
knowing Lew as Charlotte's husband and a friend of Fred's, it was 
disconcerting, to say the least, to see him turn into a lover. His sucking 
mouth was attacking my breasts furiously while one hand dropped to my leg. 
He shrugged the dress aside and slipped his hand over my smooth skin until 
his fingers were at the edge of my panties. While he pushed them aside at 
the crotch I got so excited I found my own hand on the hardening bulge under 
his fly. We rubbed each other and Lew began to tickle the fine hairs of my 
pussy with his fingertip. 

"I was so worked up I could hardly breathe, and that was the moment when the 
bedroom door flew open and all hell broke loose. . . ." 

Sigmund Freud once pointed out that "American men don't know how to make 
love.. . . American men step into marriage without the least experience for 
so complicated a business, and the ramifications of such ineptitude are 
often observed. No able Wall Streeter would think of investing in any stock 
without adequate preparation, yet the same man enters the vastly more 
complex institution of marriage with little more background or plan than a 
child. 

Like Fred and Lew, he knows that his life will continue to be active and 
stimulating, and a consideration for the function of the wife is too often 
as limited and isolated as if she existed only to make life as comfortable 
as possible for her husband. 

Due to his business success and the ease with which he moves through the 
world of commerce and his peers, this sort of husband is often very willing 
to be the silent or passive partner when it comes to his marriage. He is 
inadequately prepared for dealing with this part of his life, and he tends 
to allow others to set the pace and maintain the standards, which is why he 
is so frequently an ineffectual father to his children and a desirable 
consumer. He does as little as possible with the children and is happy to 
place the discipline and the responsibility on the wife and mother. He buys 
whatever the family next door appear to have, and if he can afford it, he 
rarely questions the necessity of these purchases. Women and their 
non-logical needs and desires confuse him and perhaps even frighten him 
somewhat, and he prefers to take an active stand in his business, where he 
understands the games and needs. Hendrik M. Ruitenbeek, in his book, The 
Male Myth, speaks of this passivity: 

Frequently, when the male cannot maintain his preferred attitude of 
non-involvement, he tends either to retreat from women or to let them make 
the decisions. 

In effect this is what Fred and Lew have allowed to happen with their wives. 
Their non-participation in their marriages and sex lives have left their 
wives frustrated and hostile. The wives recognize their resentment and, 
although attempting to excuse their mates, don't hesitate to take matters 
into their own hands. The women decide to broaden their sexual outlets in 
the hope of generating some sexual response, and, less close to the surface, 
they cleverly scheme to assure themselves of a little sexual gratification 
while they go about stimulating their husbands and preventing the 
possibilities of eventually losing their mates to other women. 

A factor which gives their decision strength and a sort of legitimacy is 
provided by the swiftly changing sexual mores. Charlotte dares to suggest 
such a plan to the less sophisticated April because she knows that April is 
uncertain of what is required of her in present day society. She expresses 
this concern and confusion when she says: 

"I was beginning to see that times had changed and I hadn't. Charlotte was a 
sophisticated woman who wasn't afraid to try new things when she could see 
the old ones weren't .doing a good enough job. Without her ideas and 
prodding. . . ." 

April shows her passivity also when she admits that it was "Charlotte's 
show, all the way. . . . " But in spite of her noh-leadership she still 
thinks nothing of placing her unwitting husband in the swapping situation. 
The thought of alerting her husband to the situation and discovering his 
feelings never enter April's thoughts, not even when she assures Fred that 
he "won't be bored." She is more concerned with being up to date in her 
sexual and moral thought than with the feelings and desires of her husband. 
She is more than dimly aware of change, and she doesn't know what the 
current thought is and therefore must rely upon her friend. Her confusion is 
based on a real change in standards. Rollo May commented on this with this 
thought: 

The Victorian nice man or woman was guilty if he or she did perform 
sexually; now we are guilty if we don't. 

The key word here might be "nice." April thinks of herself as a nice young 
woman. It is doubtful that she would entertain the idea of mate-swapping in 
order to achieve her own gratification unless she could convince herself she 
was doing it for the larger reason of her husband's happiness and the 
stability of the marriage. In no way does she think of her participation as 
a form of adultery. And at no time does she concern herself with the 
possibility of her husband being less than pleased that she will have sexual 
relations with his friend and partner. 

And, most unfortunately, because she is unable to consider her partner's 
true feelings and desires, she must also prove to be unwilling to take the 
necessary responsibility for her actions. 

"Fred's face was mottled with purple, and for a moment I couldn't place it, 
as if he were some distortion of reality imposing itself on my sexual 
enjoyment. Then I saw myself with Lew from the doorway where Fred watched 
us, and suddenly everything was all wrong. 

"The scene which followed was really quite subdued. There was no exchange of 
blows or even words. Fred simply suggested I get dressed, and we left 
quietly, my face red and my eyes unable to look at either Charlotte or Lew. 
I stayed quiet until we arrived at our own house. Then, like a dam which had 
been blocked too long, I exploded. 

"My voice was loud and cold as I told Fred what we were up to, and why. He 
paled as I told him how Charlotte and I had discussed his lovemaking, and 
how we desperately came to the decision that it was time for a little change 
in our lives. I pointed out to him quite coldly how hopelessly old-fashioned 
he was, and how much of a fool he'd just made of himself. 

"It was strange, but my rage at him pulled all the venom from his anger. It 
was really the first time we'd ever talked of anything resembling sexual 
problems we might have had, and I could tell he was listening. It seemed to 
especially disturb him that Charlotte would think that he was an inadequate 
male. 

"She doesn't have it any better with Lew, she said. But at least they're 
mature enough and modern enough to recognize that they have a problem and 
are willing to do something about it. Not you! All you want is a TV set, a 
brandy and your golf clubs." 

"By the time I'd run down Fred was very quiet. He looked a little confused, 
but his voice was firm when he spoke. "Call Charlotte and Lew and invite 
them over here tomorrow night, huh? I didn't like the idea of the kids being 
in the house, anyway.' He ran his fingers through his thinning sandy hair. 
"Then let's get to bed." 

"Fred had a golfing date with some clients and was gone before I woke up, 
and I knew he would go out for some drinks and possibly round off the 
afternoon with a dip down at the club. 

"I had a few things to do also, and I hurried through my chores, taking 
enough time off in my schedule to pop in at the health club for a quick 
sauna and cold shower. Charlotte was just on her way out the door as I got 
there, and she hesitated long enough to listen to my side of what had 
happened the night before. Then she told me that Fred had been totally 
oblivious to her advances until she decided to level with him, believing 
that he was holding back in concern for his best friend and wife. 

"I thought he'd have a stroke! Honestly! When he got it through that 
attractive, thick head of his that you and Lew were quite possibly off in 
the bedroom. . . . He didn't even consider what a delightful time we might 
have been having. That man of yours is so terribly old-fashioned. . . ." 

"Suddenly I felt just a bit protective and defensive. "Let's wait until 
tonight to see just who's old-fashioned, huh?" 

"She grinned. "Nobody, I hope. You know, I'm looking forward to this." 

"I made my favorite fondue, and it turned out to be a good choice. Whatever 
nervousness might have been there before, and whatever tension was still in 
the air about the night at Charlotte and Lew's house, gradually disappeared 
as we dunked and lost bits of french bread in the melted cheese. This time I 
wore a long hostess gown, and my mind kept slipping to thoughts of how easy 
it would be for Lew to get me out of it when the time came. He was very open 
in his admiration of my figure in the gown, and I couldn't help but notice 
that Fred was much more attentive during dinner, also. Not just to 
Charlotte, either. It was like he had come alive for the first time in a 
long time at home, and he looked at us when he talked, and he was quick to 
notice what was going on. 

"I felt an inner glow of satisfaction. I could hardly wait for things to 
start. 

"After dinner everyone got right down to business. Lew came over to me and 
put his arms around me. "Why don't you take me to see the garden or 
something, April, sweet?" 

"I avoided his eyes as I nodded. We walked to the pool in the back. "Are we 
supposed to be the swimming team tonight?" 

"Lew laughed. "Nope. Too many available bedrooms. Only this time I wanted to 
give my buddy a chance to get to bed first.' He kissed me. "Here, see what I 
still have for you?" 

"I touched his pants uncertainly as the zipper was undone, and then I was 
closing my fingers over a huge, throbbing bar of hot flesh. I held his cock 
tightly as he kissed my neck, my ears, my mouth. 

"My breasts drew his hands like magnets. He played with both as we kissed 
and tongued each other while I tugged on his prick. It felt so big and 
different, so unlike Fred's somehow. 

"When he started working on the buttons of my gown, I suggested we find a 
better place. I was so anxious and hot to feel him against me naked, his big 
cock and balls free and pressing against my body. I wanted my nipples in his 
mouth and maybe my pussy, too, and I was even wondering how it would be to 
suck on that dick of his. . . . That was something I hadn't done to Fred for 
at least a year. . . . 

"The house was dark and silent when we went in. I noticed the door to our 
most lavishly decorated guestroom was closed, though, and I could hear 
Charlotte's high-pitched giggle followed by a gasping command. 

"Yes! Go ahead and lick it again! Yes!" Charlotte sounded like she was 
having the time of her life. I glanced at Lew to see what he thought, but he 
only grinned. I felt the heat rising through me as I imagined my Fred 
lapping and sucking on Charlotte's pussy. The fact was that my fuck-oriented 
husband would only do it for me once in a while, if he was a little high or 
if he was really trying to turn me on. 

"Lew didn't give me much of a chance to dwell on my thoughts, though. He 
steered me to my own bedroom and firmly closed the door behind us. Then he 
began to get out of his clothing. 

"I sat down and watched him undress, and I felt my excitement return as he 
shed his things. He was a tall, well-built man, and I couldn't help staring 
as he pulled off his pants. His cock was big, bigger than Fred's, and I had 
the flash that he'd be doing a lot of pussy licking if he wanted to 
completely satisfy Charlotte. His balls were also huge, and they bumped 
against his body as he came over to the bed. "Now let's take care of you, 
April." 

"I sat perfectly still as he worked on my buttons, and this time he resisted 
the urge to play with my tits until he had me completely naked. I wore only 
bikini panties under the gown, and he skimmed them off me while I raised my 
hips but otherwise stayed still. He pushed me back on the bed. 

"You're perfection, April. I love those big tits of yours. I thought they 
would sag a little, but I've never been more wrong. God, I love sucking on 
them!" 

"Don't let me stop you," I breathed thickly. It was unbearably exciting to 
be in bed with a man, both naked and free, even of guilt. 

"His mouth covered a nipple hotly, and he began to suck on it while his 
other hand got busy with its twin. He made little noises in his throat, and 
soon I was making noises of my own. I felt the juices begin to run in my 
cunt and I wanted his hand down there. I wanted his hands everywhere. I 
didn't remember being this hot since I was a kid, or since my honeymoon. 

"I reached for his cock and began to play with it just as he released one 
hard nipple and dove down on the other one. "Touch my balls. Squeeze them a 
little. That's it. Yes, just like that." 

"With one hand I fondled his big hairy balls, and with the other I held his 
dick. He worked on my tits and strained his body against mine, and we were 
all over the bed, touching, kissing, loving. Finally Lew's hand touched my 
cunt. He rubbed it and spread his fingers, forcing the little lips open. My 
clitoris seemed to leap out at his fingers, and he began to squeeze and 
massage it as we kissed and tongued each other's mouths. 

"Before long Lew pulled away from me and reversed himself over my body. His 
cock was very hard, so hard that little veins stood out along the shaft and 
a drop of milky fluid trembled on the head. He pushed his dick against my 
lips. Taking a breath I opened my mouth and sucked him into me. At that 
moment I felt his face bury itself against my slit, and he began licking my 
clitoris. 

"I've always loved getting my pussy licked. Fred used to do it a lot when we 
were dating, and I'd had a boy friend before who used to have his orgasm 
only when he was licking a girl's cunt. But I'd been treated to this act 
less and less in the past several years. It was as if Fred, having wooed and 
won me, no longer had to concern himself with my desires. 

"Lew knew what he was doing. He licked me for a minute or so, then he hooked 
a finger into my hole while he worked on my clitoris. I was out of my mind 
with ecstasy, and I knew I was very close to having my orgasm. Usually I 
just had one, and sometimes two, and I didn't want this to be over soon. I 
wanted it to last and last. For all I knew this would never happen again, 
and I wanted to make the most of it. Then Lew slid his broad thumb in my 
asshole and that was it. All mind was gone and I was coming, and he had to 
hold me tightly to keep from losing his hold on my pussy and asshole. I 
nearly choked on his cock and had to pull my mouth away as the spasms caught 
me, but, moaning and mumbling my happiness, I went back to licking and 
sucking it as soon as I could. 

"I ran my tongue all the way up and down its towering shaft, then lapped 
hotly at his balls. He seemed to like it so I gently took one of the fleshy 
eggs into my mouth, sucking it lightly and wetting all the curling hairs 
with the tip of my tongue. His cock was so hard after that that I was sure 
my sucking would make him spill over. But he held out, and I was able to 
give him the best cock-sucking I knew how to give. Before long I was hot all 
over again, and when he broke away and repositioned himself on top of me I 
gladly spread my legs and helped him find the entrance to my womb. 

"His cock felt even bigger than it looked, but 

I was more than ready for it. I arched my back and brought my knees to my 
breasts so that he could have as clear and welcoming a target as possible. 
"Oh, just fuck me, Lew," I whispered into his ear. "Just shove that big 
thing all the way inside me. . . ." 

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, honey, that your pretty teeth will rattle. 
I'm going to fuck that sweet little . . . there . . . ooh . . . so tight . . 
. so fucking tight. . . ." He began to drive his cock all the way into my 
hole while I moaned with pleasure. 

"My arms went up around his neck and my heels locked behind his back, and I 
swayed and rolled my hips as he swung his dick in and out of me. I couldn't 
help but compare this with the last few times Fred had fucked me. He had fed 
his cock to me so methodically and mechanically that I'd had difficulty 
keeping awake until he came. It was hard for me to realize that these 
exciting thrusts were more like the way Fred had always been. And perhaps, 
after tonight, he, too would remember, and we could have so much more of 
this. 

"April. . . . God, I love your tight little cunt. . . . It's so hot and wet 
and good. I'm going to pump you full of come, baby. . . ." Lew began to move 
faster, and I could hear the sound of his big balls slapping against my ass. 

"I tried to match his increased speed, and for a while we were gasping and 
moaning with the pleasure of our frantic attempt to match tempos. I was so 
hot by that time I was rubbing my titties against his chest and shooting my 
hot tongue in and out of his ear, and my ass was racing to join him in his 
orgasm. 

"That little cunt of yours is milking the juice right out of my balls," Lew 
sighed, his hands tightening over my breasts as he jerked his hips for the 
final time. Then he sagged and groaned as his hot come spurted into my cunt, 
and I had to hold still for him, even though my own orgasm was only moments 
and a move or two away. 

"Lew was sensitive enough to know what had happened, though, and, as soon as 
he relaxed, he began to finger-fuck me while his mouth teased and sucked my 
nipples. It didn't take long. Just as he was forcing a third finger in me I 
began to come, and he kept up the thrusting motions until I was all over it. 

"I fell asleep after Lew left, and I don't know how long I slept before Fred 
woke me up. 

"Come on, honey. Let's go to our bed. It's late.' He was naked, and I was so 
thoroughly out that he had to nearly carry me to get to bed again. He 
smelled clean and soapy, and I could see his hair was curling as it always 
did after a shower. 

"I woke up a little on the walk to the bedroom. "Well?" Suddenly the fact 
that Fred had made love to my best friend dawned on me. I couldn't help but 
be curious. 

"Well? You mean Charlotte?" 

"No," I said sarcastically, "I mean some other woman. Of course Charlotte." 

"He kissed me softly. "It was fine. Great. A hell of a lot of fun.' He 
kissed the corner of my mouth. "I thought I'd had enough sex for a month. 
But you know something, suddenly I'm hot again. I want you, April." 

"I looked at him in surprise. Seeing that he was perfectly serious, I moved 
away. "I'll be out in a minute." 

"I soaped completely and closed my eyes under the hot spray of the shower, 
and I marveled at the abrupt increase of my husband's sexual drive. But 
mixed in with the pleasure was a little concern. Would I seem as good to him 
now that he'd had Charlotte? Would he seem as wonderful to me, now that I'd 
been thoroughly filled with Lew's larger cock? What if we didn't feel much 
of anything following such exciting sex? How could I measure up to an 
untired Charlotte? 

"I made the shower last as long as possible, letting the water run over me 
until it turned icy-cold. Then I spent a considerable time toweling myself 
dry and brushing my hair so that it wouldn't get frizzy. It was all a stall, 
though, and I knew it. The questions plagued me, and I think I hoped that if 
I just managed to take long enough Fred would fall asleep and I wouldn't 
feel so challenged. 

"He was still very much awake when I returned to the bedroom, though. 

"I thought you got lost or fell back asleep in there. I was just about to 
call the rescue squad. Look what I've got for you, all warmed up and ready.' 
He flipped the sheet back and exposed his rigid cock. "It feels like it 
won't go down all night." 

"With a sinking heart I got into bed. I felt anything but sexual. In fact, I 
felt uneasy and uncomfortable, a way I'd never felt with Fred before. 

"He felt it at once, which was especially strange since he'd been all but 
oblivious to me for months. Again I felt that peculiar mixture of pleasure 
and concern. If Charlotte had taught him to be more aware, would it only 
last with her? Would I put those feelings back to sleep again? 

"What's the matter, April?" He studied me a moment. I noticed his cock 
beginning to wilt a little. "Now that it's over don't tell me you're upset 
about what happened. Are you?" 

"I shrugged and tried to explain. He ended up laughing at me. 

"You're a funny little chick," he said, grinning. "If what you're worrying 
about was real, it still would be unimportant. Sure, I've been a little 
inconsiderate and unaware lately, and maybe it's true that doing the same 
thing with the same woman makes a man take the whole thing for granted, or 
even lose a little interest. But you and Charlotte sure woke me up, and now 
it's you I want.' His smile died. "Unless, of course, what you're really 
upset about is that I'm not Lew.. . ." 

"Then it was my turn to smile. "Lew was fine, but you're a tough act to 
follow.' Suddenly I wanted to prove it. I kissed him hard. 

"We did it nice and slow and easy, unhurried and sweetly, like we used to do 
it when we'd been married only a year or two. I began by sucking his prick, 
and doing it and hearing his sounds of pleasure made me realize that there 
was much I hadn't done for him, though I'd only thought of the things he 
hadn't done for me. Remembering Lew, I broadened my tongue and lapped at 
Fred's baljs before wetting his cock in my mouth. He moaned, and his hands 
went to my back and down over the curves of my ass. Slowly he began to play 
with the soft mounds, parting them and pressing them together, producing 
erotic feelings in my anal area which culminated with his shoving a wettened 
finger up my ass. This was something new, something he must have learned 
from Charlotte, and it felt so damn good that I was glad she had been there 
to teach him. 

"We stayed like that for a while, me sucking on his cock and licking his 
balls, and him slowly ramming a finger in and out of my asshole. I was 
careful not to let him come, and after a while he pushed me back on the bed, 
got down on his knees, pulled me half off the mattress so that my cunt was 
on a level with his mouth, and then he began to lick it. 

"In all the other times he'd done this to me it had always been somehow for 
my pleasure alone. But this time was different. This time I was getting 
licked because Fred wanted my cunt in his mouth. It was obvious not only 
from the way his cock throbbed as he ate me, but from the way he was doing 
it, slowly and lovingly, and as if he never wanted to stop. He did it so 
good I started to come, and my coming excited him to such a pitch that he 
went wild in my cunt. I had to pry his mouth off my pussy in order to make 
him stop sucking the tender flesh, and then he obeyed only long enough to 
fit his body to mine. 

"His cock was frantic in my cunt. He had one of those big hard ons which 
never seemed to be able to ease off, and I made the most of it. I arched my 
back so that he could suck my nipples, and I met him stroke for stroke. But 
he didn't begin to shoot his hot come into me until I dropped my hand to his 
ass and experimentally dipped a finger into his narrow hole. He reacted to 
that by crying out and lunging into me, his creamy load shooting deeply into 
my cunt. I joined him for that final orgasm, and both of us almost passed 
out from the beauty of that come. 

"Before I fell asleep I nudged my husband. "I guess that was a pretty good 
thing, huh. With Charlotte and Lew I mean." 

"He was almost asleep. "Huh? Sure. I guess.' He rolled over. "Go to sleep, 
sweetheart. It's almost morning." 

"But I couldn't sleep. Not until I found out one thing. "Then you'd be all 
for repeating it sometime soon?" 

"After a long silence Fred finally answered. "I'd really rather not. I think 
it was a good thing, but I don't know that we should go around making it a 
habit." 

"I breathed a long sigh of relief. After all, we really weren't the 
wife-swapping type. I threw him a kiss and turned over. 

"Not right away, anyhow," he added, half-asleep. 

"I was ready to accept that, but I made a mental note to see to it that 
there would never again be a need for another dose of marital adrenalin." 

In the aftermath of their first swapping experience this couple came to the 
realization that involvement doesn't always stop after the sexual contact is 
over. April discovered in herself the seeds of jealousy and a fear that 
perhaps she had manipulated her husband and herself into a situation from 
which she could never retrieve her marriage intact. 

For Fred there was a new awareness of his responsibility in the sexual act, 
and a rekindling of his sexual interest. Since he feels the constant 
stimulation of extramarital sex is unnecessary and his wife appears content 
with a revitalized sexual partner in the form of her husband, there is every 
reason to suspect that a monogamous relationship will be mutually gratifying 
in this case. 

 CHAPTER TWO - Two Day Rally 

" What a fantastic day! I cannot believe how beautifully B-played into my 
hands! It isn't the money, Julie-not that it's anything to look down on, 
either. But it's just getting that old bastard, that terror of the Street, 
by the balls! Whoops, Julie, delete that one. Listen, tell you what. . . . 
What do you say we call it a day, and the two of us get some dinner and make 
an evening of it? How about it?" 

"His enthusiasm was infectious, but I didn't need any extra stimulation. It 
was like an answer to my dreams. For months I'd been daydreaming about Don's 
saying something very like this, inviting me out, wanting to include me in 
his plans. 

"We had gone out fairly regularly the first year I'd come to work at K----, 
B----, and G----. Don B---- was one of the younger and certainly most 
eligible men on Wall Street, and I'd been madly attracted to him from the 
start. Not that I'm in his league. I'm just a reasonably bright girl from 
Bayside, Long Island, who would like to stay in good with the boss. 

"After that first year Don got involved with some society bitch from Maine, 
a cold bitch who wanted Don as much for his name as his pretty blue eyes, or 
the soul in that handsome body. She wasn't at all hip, and I was, but that's 
the closest I'll ever get to being one up on her. She had money and a name 
that meant something, and the most I could hope for with Don was a real nice 
time. But I'm young, and that's fine with me. 

"When Miss Richbitch and Don finally broke up-and I swear he never got so 
much as a whiff of it-he was pretty much at loose ends for a while. I kept 
hoping he'd ask me out, but he didn't, and then he had some kind of 
reconciliation with the bitch, and as that turned out to be an 
on-again-off-again relationship I didn't even entertain thoughts or dreams 
about seeing Don outside the office. 

"Sometimes, when I'd be out with another guy, I'd think of Don. What I 
really wanted was to get to that place with him where we could have a good 
time regularly for a long, long time. I wasn't one of those dreamers who 
once read Cinderella or Snow White, and really believed that when my prince 
rode by he'd be loaded with gold. I didn't even expect the prince, unless he 
was looking for a little loving while he was waiting for a princess to show 
up. But that was all right. That was just fine. And Don was a prince, though 
he also happened to be a shrewd and powerful man on the Street. I just 
wanted a little piece of him for myself. 

"I've always been one to size up myself, and others, honestly and 
unemotionally. Like I knew where I measured up and where I didn't. My looks 
were fine, so that was a plus. I have big brown eyes and long blonde hair 
and my figure is really nice. I look like I enjoy my sex, which I do, and 
that makes people pick up sexy vibes just looking at me. But I can handle 
myself nice. If I couldn't, I would never have made it with this 
organization. They were one of the oldest and most respectable on the 
Street. 

"Don had a taste of that respectability in him, too, and it was there we 
clashed the most while, at the same time, where we somehow had the most fun 
from the other. He was the only guy I ever went with who was such a square, 
in so many ways, and I was nothing like those dainty, subdued, straight 
chicks Don dated. It had even taken some sneaking around to get to wear my 
hair loose, and when I'd first applied for the job I'd worn a brown afro. 
The job had been contingent on my changing my hair style before anyone saw 
me. 

"Don wore suits and his hair was pretty short, though he was wearing his 
sideburns on the long side, which had lately become popular with the 
swinging Wall Street set. Actually, that avenue of arch respectability was 
undergoing some pretty trippy changes, though our firm remained blissfully 
out of things. But my friend Barbara over at L----, L---- and V---- kept 
telling me about how her bosses and their wives were so busy swinging, the 
running of the Street was left up to the hired help. 

"That wasn't all I'd heard about a new style of fun and games. The rich and 
near rich of Wall Street all seemed caught up in some updated version of 
wife-swapping. Really! It had hit the Street like magic, and everyone was 
throwing swinging parties and swapping wives with everyone else. Frieda, the 
girl from an outfit next door, had been invited to a party to fill in for a 
missing wife. She had had a ball. 

"Now you know how I am about sex, Julie. The more the better, right? Never 
enough, right?" She rolled her large, green eyes. "Well, I think I've 
finally had my fill of it. That party turned out to be an orgy. Call it what 
you will, but it dissolved into an orgy, and absolutely everyone let their 
hair down! There was more fucking and sucking going on there than anywhere 
outside of Rome in the good old days." 

"Finally my curiosity couldn't stand it, and when I had a chance to attend 
one of these balls, I took it. I went with middle-aged, pot-bellied Mr. 
G---- from Frieda's place. He'd asked Frieda, but she was doing something 
else, so I went instead. Ordinarily I would never have dated Mr. 

G----. He's too old and not very exciting, but I did want to see what was 
going on. Mrs. G---- probably never got the chance to decline the 
invitation. She probably had no idea her husband and his associates had a 
new sport for times when they couldn't play golf. 

"It turned out to be more of a cocktail party than the orgy my friend had 
suggested, and the thing was that each female would get a dyed carnation on 
entering the party, each dyed a different color, and each male would get its 
twin. Then flower was to find flower, and you were supposed to go out to 
dinner and whatever with your flower friend. It gave me a laugh, since these 
cosmopolitan Wall Streeters were far from flower children with love power. 
But I ended up with a much better date than I'd started out with, so I 
didn't have much room for complaint. 

"Allen had obviously been going to these parties for a few months. He looked 
pleased to have drawn me, and he gave me a choice of a dozen fine places to 
eat at first. I picked one I'd always wanted to see, and we had a nice 
dinner. Allen was handsome and almost as young as Don, and he spoke glibly 
of his marriage and his wife. 

"We're very compatible, actually, and we have two children, boys. The only 
thing we were suffering from was sexual boredom. Now, with the parties, all 
that's over with. Oh, I'd tried an affair or two, and Nicole had a lover. 
Her doctor, actually. But it wasn't good. I'd feel guilty and drink too 
much, and Nicole would go on these crying jags, over my infidelities and 
hers, too. 

"Then one of my associates told me about the parties, and I talked to Nicole 
about it. She was all for it. Now we go out about once every other week, 
have a wonderful evening with someone new, and we get along a lot better." 

"I was glad the story was about over. I was getting curious about the other 
part of it, the sex part. 

"We went to my apartment and it was great. Allen had a great deal of energy 
for me, and he wasn't in a hurry. I noticed that there was also none of the 
rushed beginning part, when the guy didn't know how far you were going to 
let him go. Allen knew the evening was his, and he had no reason to be 
concerned, "He wanted to take a shower, and meanwhile I put on some music 
and got into a comfortable velour robe. When Allen came out he pulled me 
onto his lap and kissed me. 

"I'm essentially an ass man myself," he confided, kissing my neck. "But some 
girls don't go for it. So to save time and energy I believe in being right 
out front about likes and dislikes." 

"He was sexy. I liked the way his hands moved over my body as he talked and 
kissed me. "If there's anything I haven't tried, it's probably because no 
one's suggested it. I like it all, especially fucking," I teased. "Any kind 
of fucking. Mouth, cunt or ass. I'm a very horny girl. . . . All over." 

"It was obvious Allen liked my openness. My out-front language turned him 
on. That was one thing he probably wasn't used to hearing from the wives of 
his associates. "You're a pretty girl-all over." 

"I'm not exactly heart-broken that I ended up with you, either.' I kissed 
him again and let my tongue play in his mouth. Since he claimed to be an ass 
man I mischievously began rolling and grinding mine against his lap. He 
loved it. I could feel his hardening cock under the towel he'd worn out of 
the bathroom. 

"Let's get naked, Julie. Where's the bedroom?" 

"I laughed and got up. "This is it, lover. On my salary I'd be lucky to have 
a broom closet in this neighborhood.' Converting the couch to a bed meant 
removing a few pillows and the cover. The bed itself was on the tight side 
for two people, but all the better. Allen started pulling the clothing off 
of me while I was fixing the bed. 

"He really was an ass man. The first thing he went for was my skirt. He 
pulled it off and busied his hands on the jutting globes of my ass through 
my panties. Then he let one hand slip between my legs. By that time I'd 
finished with the bed and turned around to give Allen my full attention. 

"The towel was on the floor, and I was glad to see that Allen was well-hung. 
I go for that. I love to know I've got something inside me when I'm fucking. 
That's another thing about Don. 

"Anyway, Allen was beautiful naked, and I got busy removing the rest of my 
things. I've got a good body and I like to have it admired, so I always 
enjoyed undressing for a new man. Allen didn't take his eyes off me, either. 
I'm a soft pink all over, and I have very round tits which are topped by 
cherry red nipples. I have a small waist and nice hips, and since Allen was 
an ass man, I knew he was happy to have found me. If anything, I'm a little 
too full back there, though I never had a complaint from men about it. 

"We kissed again, our tongues working like crazy, our hands all over each 
other. I was a girl who had to have a regular sex life, and I hadn't had a 
man in a month. To me that was more like six months, and I was hot to do it. 
So was Allen, by the size of his erection. 

"Because the bed didn't offer a lot of room, Allen stretched me out on it 
while he sank to his knees on the rug next to me. Then he began to kiss and 
tongue my body all over. He sucked each nipple briefly, then licked the 
undersides of my globular breasts. I liked it so much that I was almost 
sorry to see him move down my body. 

He worked quickly, touching and tonguing and teasing as much of me as he 
could in as short a time as possible. He kissed all the way down my long 
legs, tonguing the hairy mound of my cunt just as briefly as the rest of me. 
I felt a wave of disappointment, because if there's one thing I love above 
anything else sexual, it's getting my pussy licked. I'd even considered 
shaving there because I was so thickly haired, but enough men were wild for 
the jungle down there to make me decide to leave it as it was. 

"I had nothing to worry about, though. Allen sucked each pink toe-which no 
one had ever done before but I afterwards hoped it would happen again-and 
began to kiss and lick his way up my legs. He slowed down a little then, and 
I really started getting hot. My legs began to spread apart as he edged up 
closer to my pussy. Then he was, on me, his hands pushing aside the folds of 
flesh and the thick forest of hairs, and his tongue was lapping wildly over 
my clit, and I was going just as wild. It was sensational, and I started 
humping it into his face, wishing he could get his whole head in there. 

"His hands reached down and grabbed my ankles. Slowly and sensually he 
lifted them into the air, pressing them towards my breasts and belly. 
Meanwhile he licked and sucked on me, deserting my clitty only to dig his 
tongue into my slit. He used a nice, sucking motion over my entire clit at 
one point which nearly made me come. But he stopped almost immediately and 
tongue-fucked me instead. 

"By the time he had my ankles firmly up against my tits I was going wild and 
on the verge of my orgasm. I moaned hotly as Allen's mouth began to drift 
downwards. He kept his tongue slightly extended, like the rudder of a ship, 
licking its way up to my wide-spread ass and my asshole, which was nearly 
painfully spread from the position he had me in. 

"Then his tongue really went to work on me. He licked the crack of my ass 
like he'd never be able to get enough of it, and then he used his pointed 
tongue tip on the small opening, working it into me like it was a tiny cock. 
It was obvious that he liked what he was doing. He got so carried away that 
he began to beat his cock while he was licking my asshole, and I got so 
worried that he'd come that way and be finished that I pushed his face away 
from my ass, even though it felt wonderful. 

"Don't you want to fuck me, Allen?" I asked, pulling him up and over me. 

"Don't I though, you sweet little cunt, you.' He tousled my hair 
affectionately and began twisting me around so that I ended up on my knees 
with my head and tits against the mattress and my ass up in the air. I 
thought he was going to shove his dick up my ass, and I wanted to tell him I 
had some K-Y lubricating cream in the little table next to the bed, but 
instead he began to sink it into my cunt. 

"Damn, it felt good! He had a nice, blunt-headed cock, the kind which didn't 
sink in so gradually that a girl hardly knew when the man was inside her. 
Allen's dick you could feel going in, and since he had me in this position 
and was holding me so tightly that I couldn't move away, I just closed my 
eyes and enjoyed every stroke. I come quickly once something gets in there, 
and I don't make such a big fuss about coming unless I want the guy to get 
more turned on, so I just pursed my lips into a soft 'ooh' and came. I 
shuddered a little, sighed, and began to work my way up to a second come. 
Honestly, it was one of the nicest fucks, really, that I'd ever had. 

"I came twice more while Allen slowly and kind of sweetly fucked my cunt, 
and then, when I could feel that he was getting more and more excited, he 
withdrew his cock and there was a moment when I felt nothing. Then he 
pressed it to the opening of my ass, and I was glad he was so wet from my 
cunt. 

"He swung his hips forward firmly, and I relaxed the muscles in my asshole 
to make it as easy as possible for both of us. He began to push into me, and 
though there was some pain, I'd done this before and I knew that the pain 
would soon fade away and all I'd feel would be pure, undiluted pleasure. 

"He worked into me slowly, and the heavy breathing coming from him and the 
sounds he was making and the way his hands were all over me told me that 
this really was his thing. He loved the feeling of slipping into a girl's 
tight asshole. 

"God, Julie, you're so tight . . . so beautiful . . . I love this, baby. . . 
." He grabbed handfuls of my titties, then released one hand and brought it 
to my cunt. His finger found my clitty and he began to work on it. That made 
me squirm a little, lifting my ass and impaling myself more deeply on his 
rod. His cock was so big up my asshole I moaned a little from being 
stretched so much, but it was also beginning to feel so good. . . . 

"That's it! Love it, Julie," Allen urged excitedly. "I get so fucking hot 
when the girl loves it too. . . ." He shoved the last inch into me and 
jerked a little from the extreme pleasure he was experiencing. 

"I do," I told him honestly. "It feels so good, honey . . . pull it out and 
shove it all the way back inside me. Go ahead. . . ." 

"He did. He humped his cock in and out of me like he'd never stop, and he 
was hip enough to keep his fingers working on my clitty at the same time. I 
knew he was going to come first, then I realized I was going to join him. 
"Fuck me . . . play with my cunt . . . I'm going to come with you, Allen. . 
. . Fuck the living shit out of me, honey. . . ." 

"My encouragement got to him. He slammed in and out of me so hard I wasn't 
sure my asshole would ever be good for anything again, but far from caring, 
it only prompted my orgasm more. 

"Now," I sobbed into the pillow, because this was one orgasm I didn't want 
to be quiet about. Also I'd had some experience with ass fucking, and it's 
fine as long as you're hot. But once you've come, it's pure agony somehow, 
and the trick definitely was to get the man to come with you at the same 
time. "Come with me, Allen. Shoot your load into my asshole now! I'm coming, 
baby. That big cock of yours is making me come. . . ." 

"That did it for him. Any shred of self-control he'd been clinging to was 
rapidly washing away. He thrust his prick halfway to my tonsils and rubbed 
my clit frantically, and then he was shooting into me like he was going to 
empty his balls completely. I dissolved into the mattress as I came, and it 
felt so good I could hardly stand it either. 

"After Allen had left I got to wondering how Don would like to take part in 
the swinging parties some of his friends were enjoying. After all, I'd made 
love to him several times, and apparently that wasn't quite enough to keep 
his interest. But since he loved it when I'd do something or show him 
something that was especially far out, I got to wondering if turning him on 
to swinging parties would make him pay a little more attention to me. . . ." 

An enterprising young woman, Julie quickly sees how she might utilize the 
new swapping scene in order to make points with her boss-lover. Her own sex 
life is not in need of rejuvenation, but she is happy to grab at any straw 
to further her image of being "far-out," which is obviously how she regards 
the mate-swapping craze. 

Betty Friedan, in her book The Feminine Mystique, devotes an entire chapter 
to sexually aggressive women, whom she calls "the sex seekers." She 
describes an increase of sexual aggressiveness in American women, and places 
some of the reason for this on the fearful decline of the male-the castrated 
male whom many authorities feel have taken a step backwards and allowed 
their women to control their sexual lives, like April and Charlotte in the 
first case study. As an aggressive female, Julie typically thinks of sex as 
the means to tighten her hold on her boss, and she never thinks in terms of 
becoming the sole woman in his life, and certainly not the love object. 
Love, indeed, becomes a never-considered emotion, until, as in most swapping 
arrangements, sex is thoroughly depersonalized. Julie doesn't think of her 
date of the evening, Allen, as a desirable mate because of his personality, 
consideration or position in society. He is acceptable because he is the 
possessor of a large penis. 

Julie believes herself to be a normal, well-adjusted woman of her times. She 
is outspoken about her sexual needs and has no need for euphemisms to mask 
the various acts in which she engages, and yet there is no thought that her 
image of herself as a sex-seeker, or her inability to think in terms of 
love, is unhealthy. Betty Friedan commented that: 

Contrary to the feminine mystique, sexual satisfaction is not necessarily a 
mark of fulfillment, in woman or man. 

Erich Fromm adds: 

Often psychoanalysts see patients whose abilities to love and so be close to 
others is damaged and yet who function very well sexually and indeed make 
sexual satisfaction a substitute for love because their sexual potency is 
their only power in which they have confidence. 

Julie is such a young woman, and it is not remarkable that she happens 
across swapping as a means to further her sexual activities. She believes 
that her interest in the swap parties is exclusively to further her position 
with her employer, but in actuality swapping is a means whereby she can 
continue her relationship with a man who threatens to be important to her, 
and keep it depersonalized to the point of mechanization. She will excite 
Don by presenting him with other women effortlessly, and when she has sex 
with the mates of the women she, in effect, gives to him, she is free to 
enjoy those men as "safe" substitutes for Don. It is all neat, packaged and 
palatable, and keeps things at a comfortable status quo. 

On Don's side he is a likely candidate for swapping, himself. As a young 
member of a very respectable, established firm, Don cannot indulge his taste 
for the bizarre, the trait he most enjoys in Julie. But others in his 
position are engaging in varied sexual encounters, and Julie knows this fact 
will make an enormous difference in Don's acceptance of a sexual game he 
would anyways enjoy. Don happens not to be married, though he must be paired 
off in order to participate in swapping, but it is doubtful that his marital 
status has much to do with his susceptibility to swapping. Swapping offers a 
man like Don an opportunity to indulge all of his sexual fantasies with a 
minimum of effort or inconvenience. For men like himself sexual desire and 
marriage are not necessarily the same package, though legal, social and 
moral pressure may mask it as such. Havelock Ellis writes: 

It would seem that most persons . . . are monogamic and poly-erotic. That is 
to say they only desire one permanent marriage, but they do not find that 
that relationship stands in the way of sexual attraction to one or more 
persons, though the attraction thus aroused may be felt to be of a different 
nature to that experienced for the permanent partner, and it may prove quite 
possible to hold such attractions . . . in control. 

Don would seem to fall into this category; the fact is that he was not 
available to Julie during the period when he was attempting to solidify his 
relationship with a possible marital partner (the girl Julie referred to as 
"Miss Richbitch") only because the more important union held his attention. 
In the ordinary course of things, Don could marry and remain a faithful 
husband, though it is likely he would be merely controlling his desire for 
varied sexual experience. But with the introduction of wife-swapping to his 
world, an older, settled Don might well be as willing as the younger, 
unencumbered Don, simply because this would afford him a gratifying sensual 
experience without risk or condemnation. Another possibility is that the 
married Don would prefer to emulate Julie's original date for the swinging 
party, Mr. G-, who happily joined the swapping games while keeping knowledge 
of them from his wife. Utilizing what remains of the double-standard, men in 
Don and Mr. G-'s position seem free to indulge their own whimsy while still 
conforming to the rules of those more important to them in society-their 
peers. 

"I'd just about planned to ask Don if he wanted to be my date at one of the 
swinging parties anyway, and when he invited me out for a night on the town 
I knew this was my perfect chance. 

"We had dinner first, and, as always, success gave Don a terrific appetite. 
I ordered a steak and salad and passed even on the rolls, but Don had 
shrimp, salad and a lobster tail with his steak, and afterwards he insisted 
we go across town to a little Italian pastry shop he liked for coffee and 
cannoli. Finally full and comfortable in a plush bar with an after dinner 
drink in his hand, he asked me what I'd like to do for the rest of the 
evening. 

"That was my opener. "Like to try something new ? ' I asked him if he heard 
anything about the mate swapping that was going on around us. He listened, 
fascinated, and I made sure to touch him often as I went into elaborate 
details about what was going on. 

"It turned out that I happened to know where a party was going on that 
night, and Don's eyes opened wide as he realized that he had been invited to 
that same party. 

"But no one said it was that kind of a party!" he laughed. - 

"It's gotten to be such a going thing that they i probably point out the 
fact when it's not that kind of a party.' I added that as a final 
encouragement. Don was so stuffy that way. As long as he was absolutely 
certain that everyone was doing something, he was up for going along with 
the trend. I have no idea why he was just the opposite in business. 

"This was a big party. I recognized most of the people present, and I 
couldn't help wondering how they arranged the swapping part of the 
entertainment. The large Park Avenue apartment couldn't have had more than 
three bedrooms, so it wouldn't be one of those in-house parties. 

"I was mistaken. Including the servant's quarters there were four bedrooms 
and a large den, and it was an unstructured party as far as the sex went. 
The men got to choose their partners, arranging a swap with the date or 
husband of the woman they wanted to make it with. I looked around at the 
gathered females and wondered who would be Don's choice. 

"There was no chance to find out, though. I guess it's a tribute to me to 
say that we hadn't been at the party long enough to get a drink before a 
very attractive man came up to Don and began to talk to him. At first I 
thought it was a business contact or a friend, but then I noticed the way 
both men looked at me. I smiled at them, and then the man nodded in the 
direction of a striking dark haired girl with large gray eyes and a luscious 
figure under a simple black dress. "After a moment more of talk, both men 
came over to me. "Julie, this is Ronald B--. Ron, the lovely Julie.' He 
smiled at me. "I'll see you a little later, okay?" His eyes did a poor job 
of masking his excitement, though his voice was calm enough. 

"I looked up at Ron. "That was so quick I didn't even get a drink.' "I think 
we can fix that right away.' He ade a mock bow and went to the bar. He 
returned with two glasses. We talked a little as we drank, and I watched Don 
drink and talk with Ron's pretty wife. Ron also kept looking at them, and 
finally I guessed that this was their first swinging party. 

"He admitted it was. "Sex has gotten to be . . . well, dull between us. Oh, 
there's nothing wrong with my wife, and she insists I'm not to blame, 
either, but you know how it is-it just gets boring. We talked about 
accepting one of the invitations we kept getting, but we kept chickening 
out. Actually it was Rita who insisted we come tonight. Now I'm glad." 

"I grinned back and finished the drink. "Shall we take a little walk around 
this mausoleum?" he suggested, obviously eager to get on with it now that he 
was here. "We walked out of the main room and through a hallway. I kind of 
liked the idea that this joker was new at the game. I wouldn't mind doing a 
little leading. 

"But all of the bedrooms and even the den were occupied, so we began to kiss 
and touch a little in the hallway. It was kind of nice, and I felt a very 
promising bulge in Ron's pants. His mouth was rough, demanding, and I let 
him tongue mine for a while before suggesting we go back to the party and 
wait our turn with a fortifying drink. But before I could say anything an 
older man with very white hair and a cute little blonde came out of one of 
the bedrooms. She was adjusting her dress and fluffing her hair, and Don 
nodded to them and pulled me towards the free bedroom. 

"Even with the door closed the sounds of the party filtered into the 
tastefully decorated bedroom. Like most new buildings the walls were on the 
thin side, and we could hear the tense voice of a man in an adjoining 
bedroom who was curtly urging someone to do something to him 'a little 
lower. . . ." 

"Ron was really in a hurry. He pulled me to him and began a kiss which 
lasted until we were both stretched out on the king-sized bed. His hands 
were all over me. 

"Wait, Ron! Hold it a second. What say we get out of our clothing before you 
rip something, huh?" I pushed him away, laughing at his urgency. 

"He got up so that I could get undressed, and I really started to get hot 
from the way he was looking at me. I thought he'd run his tongue over his 
lips in anticipation, and it occurred to me that this guy was more than just 
a little bored. 

"After I was naked I went over to him and went to work on his shirt. "Gonna 
make little Julie do all the work?" I asked kittenishly. 

"He shook his head, dazed. "Don't mind me," he laughed finally. "It's just 
been so damn long since I've been with another woman. . . ." 

"I watched him throw off his shirt and tie and slip out of his pants and 
shorts. He was hung nicely, as I'd suspected from our earlier playing in the 
hall. "Listen, Ron, whatever you want to do is fine with me, you know? 
Whatever you like best. I dig it all." 

"He looked at me uncertainly. "Anything?" 

"You name it," I teased, coming over to him and grasping his cock and balls 
with both hands. 

"I like mouth sex," he said boldly, daringly, as if it were something no 
nice man would say. 

"Good," I breathed, running one of my hands over his back as I pressed my 
body against him tightly enough so that he would feel my hardening nipples 
dig into his chest. "So do I. . . ." 

"We got on the bed together, and I began to kiss my way down Ron's pale and 
golden haired body. His dick was nearly hard and it looked very clean and 
pink, and I played with it as I lightly sucked his tiny nipples and nibbled 
on the tender flesh along his side. He loved what I was doing with him, and 
his hand seemed to be having a problem trying not to force my head right 
down on his cock. 

"I got there finally, and I licked the head before taking it into my mouth. 
God, he loved being sucked! I've been with a lot of men, but I've never 
known one who loved being blown as much as Ron. He worked his fingers 
through my hair and moaned and crooned as I expertly used my lips and teeth 
and tongue to work on his dick. 

"Ooh . . . yes . . . do it harder . . . God . . . don't stop, whatever you 
do, don't stop. . . ." he pleaded, humping his ass so that I'd suck a little 
more of it into my mouth. 

"I wouldn't have minded going on with it for a good while longer, but I was 
afraid to make him come this quickly. Not without my getting anything out of 
it. So I stopped just long enough to climb over him completely, straddling 
him so that my cunt was directly over his handsome face. Then I began to 
suck his big cock again, and a moment later I felt him beginning to nuzzle 
my cunt with his soft lips. 

"He was an inexperienced cunt-lapper, and I knew my earlier suspicions were 
correct. It wasn't just boredom which was the thorn in Ron's sex life. I was 
willing to bet anything his pretty wife didn't let him eat her very often, 
if at all. I made a mental note to ask Don about it later. 

"Ron might have been inexperienced, however, but he sure loved it. He used 
his hands to open me up, and then his entire center of interest shifted from 
my mouthing of his cock to his licking of my cunt. His lashing tongue roamed 
crazily over my gaping inner lips. I lifted my hips, directing his mouth to 
my aching clitoris. I could feel his soft tongue glide over it and I 
tightened my thighs on either side of his head. I began to suck on his cock 
then like it was some big juicy lollypop I couldn't get enough of, and the 
better he ate my cunt, the more fiercely I sucked his dick. It was throbbing 
like mad in my mouth at that point, and I played with his swollen balls as I 
sucked him. 

"What we were doing seemed to be such a rare treat for Ron that it made me 
really want to do it up right. I let my hand fall from his balls and I 
wedged a finger between the lean cheeks of his ass. I found his asshole 
easily enough, and from the way he jumped as I probed it, and from the 
tightness of it, I was also willing to bet his little wife had never given 
this part of her husband any sensual thought. 

"I stopped sucking him long enough to wet my finger with my mouth, then I 
dropped my hand right back to his asshole. I tickled it a little and then 
began to push it into him. I didn't forget my tongue work, though, and I 
sucked him nice and fast while his tongue kept doing wild, wonderful things 
to my pussy. I was free to come at any time, but I knew that would happen 
the second I got him launched. 

"He loved the sixty-nine, and he loved my finger ramming in and out of his 
asshole. I think he could have gone on indefinitely if I hadn't used that 
finger so effectively. He began to come, and he sobbed like a baby against 
my cunt as he came. I joined him effortlessly, and it was a damn fine come, 
too. He might have been inexperienced, but he sure knew how to make a girl 
feel fine. 

"He shot a huge load into my throat, and I swallowed what I could of it and 
let the rest drip down on the sheets. Tomorrow would be laundry day at this 
apartment, anyway. Ron moaned and let his head fall to the side, and as soon 
as I could I rolled off him. I don't smoke very often, but I accepted a 
cigarette then, and inhaled gratefully. 

"That was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, Julie. God. My 
God! Listen, honey, I'd like to see you again, sometime. Soon." 

"I smiled. Ron really was new at this thing. "No way, Ron. I'm sorry. I 
really loved it, too, but the rules of this kind of party say it's a one 
shot deal, unless, of course, we should happen to run into each other again 
at a party. That would be fine." 

"He looked confused for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't 
like it too much if my wife started seeing someone she met at a party. 
Somehow it's different this way. It's like a time out, or something. You 
know, as if neither of us are really cheating." 

"I was sort of interested in what he was saying, but I figured we had better 
ways to use our time. I began to play with his soft cock again. 

"It took a little while to get it to respond, but finally it got the 
message. I took it in my mouth again until it got really hard. 

"You sure do that well. Do you . . . have you done it to many men?" 

"That was the one thing with these square dudes. They always managed to say 
something as corny as that. "No," I cracked, lifting my head from his prick, 
"you're the only one." 

"At first he didn't say anything, and then he laughed. "Touche, little 
mouse. Suck it some more. I'm glad you know how to do it.' He thought a 
moment longer then added, "It would be fine if my wife managed to pick up a 
little experience." 

"I returned to sucking on him, and because I really felt like giving him a 
thrill and also because I knew it would blow his mind, I also licked his 
balls and stuck my tongue far up his asshole. He loved it! I gave it another 
hot licking, then returned to his cock. He was so hot, after that, that he 
hurt me as he pressed me back on the bed. He climbed on top of me with that 
big prick of his in his hand. He wasted no time at all in ramming that tool 
home, either, and it felt wonderful pushing into me. 

"Ron might have been a novice at sucking, but he was a pro at fucking. He 
knew how to use cock in a juicy cunt. He worked in part of it and pulled 
out, fed me a few more notches and withdrew, and then slammed the whole 
thing into me. He held still while I felt my cunt tighten in an unexpected 
orgasm, and then he began to fuck me seriously. 

"Still wanting to add a little special something of my own, I reached back 
and tried to push my finger into his asshole. It was still a little moist 
from my tongue, and I managed to insert it to the first joint, but Ron 
pushed my hand away. 

'Save that until I'm ready to come or it'll be over in a second." 

"I put both my arms around his neck and just fucked him. I don't usually 
care that much for the man-on-top position, but Ron knew how to fuck from 
any angle, and any way he wanted to do it was fine with me. 

"He began to move faster, then he slowed again and began to move in circles 
in me before resuming his rapid thrusts. 

"I came just before the first droplets spurted out of his cock, and Ron's 
tongue laved my ear as he sprayed my insides with his hot come. 

"We dressed as soon as we were able, and I even took the time and effort to 
attempt to tidy the bed for the next couple. 

"Don was finishing a drink when we returned to the party, and Ron's wife, 
looking a little the worse for wear, was chewing an olive and reaching for 
another drink. 

"The four of us exchanged a few words, but it was obvious that husband and 
wife were itching to spend a little time alone with each other, so I 
suggested Don take me home. 

"It went exactly as I'd thought it would. Don was in a great mood all the 
way to my place, and he acted as if the fun game he'd just participated in 
was all my idea. I accepted his lavish compliments, but instead of feeling 
good about it I began to feel a little depressed. Fortunately that lasted 
only until we got to my apartment. Once there he pulled me to the couch and 
began to make love to me, just the way I liked it. 

"Before we got too carried away, I did remember to ask him if his date for 
the evening, Ron's wife, liked being eaten. He answered that she hadn't had 
much experience with it, but she left that room an ardent fan of any kind of 
oral sex. It amused me somehow that Ron and his wife would have come out for 
the better from their first swapping party. Unless of course they were the 
type who thought it was fine to do such naughty things with other people but 
a no-no with the spouse. 

"Then I forgot all about Ron and his wife as Don made love to me as wildly 
and passionately as if neither of us had had sex all week. 

"It was only afterwards that I gave a final thought to Ron and his wife. 
After Don had left it crossed my mind that while the other couple might have 
had their sexual lives changed for them because of the party, nothing was 
really any different between Don and myself. Not really. . . ." 

Except for the somewhat unusual situation of the couple not being married, 
Julie and Don typify much the same thing as Ron and his wife-the hope of 
finding outside stimulation to correct what might be a lack in themselves 
and the relationship. 

While it is difficult to believe that taking part in the swinging parties 
currently popular with their set will effect any real harm, it still remains 
to be seen if such a diversion can accomplish much good. On the surface it 
seems obvious that the future sexual life between Ron and his wife will be 
helped by this experience, and certainly Julie suspects this will be the 
case, but even she suspects some flaw in this instant therapy. Julie says, 
"Unless of course they were the type who thought it was fine to do such 
naughty things with other people but a no-no with the spouse." Without 
giving it any real thought, she realizes that so convenient a solution would 
have come about without the need for extramarital sex. 

For Julie herself, her final words sum up what she fears is the truth, that 
a night with a fun experience at swapping mates cannot really make any 
difference. "Not really," she says, and perhaps she wonders why they have 
bothered. 

 CHAPTER THREE - Aboveboard Lover 

"The party was going full blast by the time we arrived. The music was loud, 
but as rich and clear as if the rock band had been in the next room. In 
fact, everything was top class: the magnificent apartment, the furnishings, 
the wines and food served buffet-style-even the people. 

There were six couples present when we arrived, and each of the men were 
handsome and had that well-cared-for look about them. It wasn't that they 
were young or muscular. Two were on the thin side, and one had a definite 
pot belly under the expensive suit he was wearing. No, it was more a look of 
power and position they had, as if each man knew he could have whatever he 
wanted and thus was selective in his wants. 

"The women were all beautiful. They were perfectly groomed and dressed, and 
it was obvious that each had done her best to outdo the rest. If any of them 
were less than beautiful when they looked into the mirror in the morning, 
they went to elaborate lengths to overcome the fact. Not all of them were as 
young as they looked at first glance, but there wasn't a man who wouldn't 
have been proud to be seen with any of them. 

"My mind skipped back to when I was in Iowa, when I was a little girl. We'd 
have community potluck dinners, and each woman would throw together her very 
best recipe and place it on the large central table. Then, throughout the 
affair, each would keep an eye smugly on her masterpiece, as if mentally 
comparing it to her neighbor's, all the time watching to see how it went 
over and enjoying any trace of proof that hers was the best. That was how 
the men were about their women, only they were also sizing up the 
competitors' wares, knowing that they were free to sample the merchandise. 

"I hadn't wanted to come at all, but now that I was here I was woman enough 
to be glad I'd worn the plain, clinging black jersey after all. I knew that 
Reed was proud to be with me, silently delighting in my small, curvy figure 
and aware of the looks of interest I was getting as we entered the sumptuous 
living room. 

"I glanced at him as our host came toward us with a broad smile on his face. 
My anger was pretty well gone, but only because I'd never been able to hold 
anger very well. Not that I didn't have reason for being mad. I loved Reed, 
and he loved me. And yet he was asking me to do something that was totally 
against my grain, and, even worse, I'd finally consented to do it. 

"Working with and for Reed as I did, I knew as much about what was going on 
in the Street as he did. I actually heard about the swinging parties that 
had become popular before Reed had, and some spark of wisdom told me that 
this information Reed didn't need. Maybe it was because my mother once told 
me that men were like children, and the worse the evil the more they wanted 
to know about it. And, once knowing, she'd said, the next step is the doing. 
Or maybe it was because my Reed was a human dynamo, and, as hard as he 
worked, that was how hard he played, and I knew he liked tremendous 
distraction when he was playing. If we went to a movie and it wasn't great, 
we left. If it was a play we'd paid a fortune to see-he for the tickets and 
me for the 'right' outfit-we'd still leave after the first act if it wasn't 
superior. One bad meal at a restaurant and they'd never have a chance to 
cook for Reed again. From the beginning I tried my best in bed, afraid that 
if I was anything but top rate that way I'd never get a second look. 

"Sure, I admit it. I worship Reed. If you knew him you'd know why. He's like 
no one else. But he needs to have his own way, and the tremendous pressure 
under which he works makes his needs understandable. When we're out together 
in the evening, I want to do everything I can to relax him and make him 
happy. We're waiting for his divorce to be final so that we can get married, 
but it's almost as if we were already. Only we don't live together, because 
Reed worries that his wife will see to it that he doesn't get to see his 
little boy if she can prove that we're living together. 

"Reed had found out about the swapping parties, of course. And he began 
kidding me about them, saying we should try them out. The thought didn't 
terrify me or anything. I wasn't a virgin when I went to bed with Reed that 
first time. But I froze at the thought of him making love to another woman 
and possibly preferring her to me. 

"But the kidding increased over the week, and it was less funny all the 
time. I knew Reed, and I knew that once he had hold of an idea that appealed 
to him it would be impossible to pry him loose from it without his checking 
it out thoroughly. 

"He finally came out and told me he wanted to go to one of the parties, and 
he wanted me to go along with him. I tried to pretend he was joking, but 
Reed continued to be serious. He even went so far as to explain. 

"I like variety in my life, Adele, and that doesn't exclude women. Now that 
doesn't mean I don't love you, and it doesn't mean that I want any other 
woman for my wife or companion. What it does mean is that I never intended 
to be sexually faithful to just one woman for the rest of my life. I've said 
that before, honey, remember?" 

"He had. It was one of the things he'd hated about his first marriage. He 
wasn't the kind of man to sneak around and hide things from his wife, but 
her attitude had been a 'don't let me know' one towards extra-marital sex. 
"I guess I always thought that would come up later, after you were bored 
with me." 

"Reed laughed at that. "I don't ever want to be bored with you, Adele. I 
think one way to avoid that is to make our sexual life less restricted. 
Everything about marrying you appeals to me except that. The concept of 
again getting into a relationship where I'm forbidden to fuck anyone but my 
wife disturbs the hell out of me. I want a flexible wife, Adele. If this 
swapping thing hadn't come up I would still have had it out with you. Sooner 
or later. Before we could seriously plan to get married. I'm glad this came 
up. We may as well see if there's any point in continuing together now." 

"Although his voice was soft and there was no hint of a threat in his tone, 
I knew Reed well enough to know what he meant. It wasn't a threat -it was an 
ultimatum. 

"Reed! Good to see you! And this delectable creature must be Adele.' Foster 
H-came forward, playfully slugged Reed on the arm, and pulled me close for a 
deep, non-playful kiss. I was gasping for air by the time he let go of me. 

"He introduced us to his wife, a dark beauty who spoke with a slight accent 
and pressed against Reed as she kissed him. Charlene graciously introduced 
us to the other couples, and if it wasn't for the elaborate kisses I'd have 
found it difficult to believe that this wasn't just another elegant 
business-pleasure cocktail party. The idea that I was having my first visit 
to a sex-swapping party was mind-boggling. But it didn't take long to 
realize it was true. 

"The wife of a very successful broker I'd met once before, began to dance 
alone in the middle of the room. She was a gorgeous blonde, with 
waist-length hair she was freeing from its careful French roll as she swayed 
her broad but exciting hips. After pulling out the last pin, Stephani shook 
her lovely head and swirled in time to the pulsating tempo of a drum solo. 
Her hair twirled into the air and then swished around her upper body, 
briefly covering her large breasts which were nearly naked in the low-cut 
gown she was wearing. 

"Take it off, Steph," a man encouraged. A little more of my Iowa background 
came out as I felt a stab of surprise to realize it was her husband who had 
made the suggestion. 

"She looked at him under lowered lashes, her smoky eyes half-closed. Then 
she smiled. "Yeah?" She thrust out her big breasts and twirled again as a 
lone horn joined the drummer. 

"Oh, yes!" another man answered. 

"Come on, Stephani, take it off. Let's see if the rest is as pretty . . ." a 
deep voice by my side added. It was Reed. 

"The blonde began to slow her movements while the group formed a loose 
circle around her. Matt, another broker I knew slightly, stacked some more 
records on the stereo and hastily got back on the couch where he had a 
ringside seat. 

"Stephani danced well, and it was obvious from the start that she liked 
having men watch her move. She kicked off her heels and slowly began to play 
with the long zipper on the back of her gown. She pulled it down as far as 
she could, loosening the top of the dress so that each move she took 
revealed more and more of her naked breasts. They were huge and firm, 
bouncing freely as she danced, and with each turn the darker coral of her 
large, spiky nipples could be briefly glimpsed. 

"Reed put an arm around me and squeezed one of my breasts over my dress, 
though he didn't take his eyes from the dancing girl's lush, slowly 
unveiling mounds. I felt a hot rush of embarrassment from his unexpected 
touch, but then I remembered where we were and why we were here, and I 
relaxed, allowing him to knead my flesh as he wished. I was just so relieved 
to have it be me he was touching still. A quick glance around the room 
showed me that everyone else was similarly occupied, though few were 
touching their own mates. It struck me then that I was the only unmarried 
one present, if you counted Reed, who was as good as divorced. 

"As his hand cupped my breast and his fingers began to tease my stiffening 
nipple I began to understand what brought the wives to these parties. Up 
until that moment I'd been thinking in the back of my mind that I was 
powerless to refuse to accompany Reed to this sex party. After all, we 
weren't yet married and I had no real hold on him, and if I hadn't gone 
perhaps he would have taken another girl. But now that the exciting music 
was going full-blast and Stephani was stripping and everyone was touching 
and Reed was rolling my taut little nipple in his fingers, I was beginning 
to feel sexier than ever before. 

"Stephani backed towards Matt and rotated her hips in his face as she 
allowed him to undo the zipper all the way. Then, softly bumping her meaty 
buttocks into his face, she moved back to the center of the room, wriggling 
her exquisite body enough to encourage the gown to slip down over her bare 
breasts, slender waist, rounded belly and waving hips. It hissed over her 
long legs and formed a dark puddle around her small feet. 

"Reed nearly ripped my dress in his haste to get his hand on my naked flesh. 
He crushed the nipple powerfully, the way I always liked it, and I moaned a 
little, yet I kept my eyes fixed on the blonde woman. She was naked now 
except for a wisp of cloth around her hips, the rolled pair of panties she 
was tugging at and then lowering, teasing her audience as they feasted on 
her lovely body with its erotically bouncing breasts and sensual hips. She 
passed a hand over the mound of her sex-, and when the hand finally lowered, 
the panties went with it. 

"I glanced around the room again just as Reed took one of my hands and 
brought it to his fly. His penis was very hard and throbbed against the 
metallic bonds. He wanted me to free him, and one glance around told me it 
would be all right. It was actually difficult to believe what was going on, 
even to comprehend my own feelings. Here we were, a room full of ordinary, 
civilized human beings brought up in a culture which prohibited free sexual 
expression, and made sex a private matter to be enjoyed behind closed and 
locked doors. Yet here we were, growing excited in plain sight of each 
other, touching one another, ever prepared, I think, to have sex in front of 
each other. Maybe what made it all right was the fact that somehow each 
couple seemed isolated from the next, and people I actually knew seemed like 
total strangers, faceless, as they conducted themselves so freely. I don't 
know. I only know I was excited, more than I'd have expected to be in my 
wildest dreams. 

"Matt had the lovely red-haired wife of his business partner on his lap, and 
it was obvious she was soothing more than the flesh of his leg with her 
gyrating hip. Foster was sitting on the floor cross-legged, and a 
sweet-faced girl with soft brown curls was playing with his short, fat tool 
while his hand was digging energetically under her mini-dress. By the look 
on her face as she watched Stephani, it was a toss-up as to what was 
exciting her the most-Foster or Stephani. They believed they were hidden by 
a large chair blocking their bodies from most of the room, but I could see 
them clearly, she with her fist wrapped around his shaft and he with his 
busy fingers. 

"Foster's wife Charlene was passionately being kissed by Stephani's husband, 
Art, and one other couple were also locked together in an embrace in the 
other corner. The others were watching, especially Darren, a tall lawyer I'd 
met several times before. I knew he was married to Jane, but he had eyes 
only for the naked Stephani, and I knew it would only be minutes before he 
reached for her. 

"The zipper opened easily, and my hand closed over and began pumping Reed's 
huge cock. When I'd agreed to come to this party I'd given in only to please 
Reed. I wasn't expecting this surge of excitement I was feeling. But it was 
impossible to resist. The air was filled with sexual tension, and the 
assault on my senses was too irresistible. All around me beautiful, 
successful, sophisticated people were openly touching and embracing each 
other, and clothing was beginning to litter the thick carpet. 

"Charlene detached herself long enough to hurry around dimming the lights. 
The gas fire in the natural brick fireplace licked around the artificial 
logs, casting its soft flickering illumination over the large room. Nearby a 
wine glass was overturned on the massive Spanish coffee table, but no one 
bothered to wipe up the amber puddle. In the center of the room Stephani 
forgot her dance as Darren pulled her down in front of the fire, his mouth 
immediately closing over one swollen nipple. 

"I had been so distracted by what was going on around me I was unaware of 
the change in hands on my now naked breasts. My body was reacting violently 
though my mind seemed frozen, numbed, unable to grasp what was going on. 
These were not just any group of people-these were the people with whom I'd 
worked for the last three years, the people I'd always thought of as the 
superstars of respectability and decorum. Even when I'd steeled myself for 
attending a swingers' party I'd not expected to find myself in the midst of 
an orgy. I'd imagined I'd end up in some room with a stranger, yes, but not 
making love to a stranger in a room strewn with other naked strangers, all 
making love with other strangers, all desperately searching for some elusive 
kick that was bigger than the last one. 

"Oh, I know how that sounds-moralistic and removed and above it all, and 
that was the craziest part. Because while my feelings from the neck up were 
these, from the neck down I was the stranger. Because I wanted to join in, 
wanted to so much that I understood Stephani's abandon perfectly, would have 
done the same thing with the least encouragement, if it were not for the me 
that lived above my neckline. It shocked me profoundly, partially because I 
was aware that the others at this party were experienced swingers, who had 
probably made the progression from embarrassed first swapping sessions to 
sharing a bedroom with another couple, to orgies of this magnitude. And I 
was, essentially, a simple, practical girl who had never been exposed to 
anything like this-yet I was sexually swept up with it all, and my body was 
aching to participate fully. I was also shocked because the mind part of me 
kept thinking with a peculiar clarity, and it proved to be far the weaker 
part of myself, as I didn't even withdraw and leave when I realized, 
finally, that it was no longer Reed who was fondling me. . . . 

"I still clutched Reed's penis as if it were a life preserver, but Reed was 
making motions to move away. Toward another woman, not just away. I turned, 
dazed, and found myself looking into the smoldering eyes of a man I barely 
knew, and he was manipulating my breasts with both hands. 

"Let's go grab one of the bedrooms while there's still one available," he 
said, this stranger. "Come on." 

"I gave a quick look at Reed, who was now kissing a very good looking 
blonde, and I nodded. Suddenly I wanted very much to be alone with this man, 
alone and naked and in bed. I wanted and needed him inside me, the hot need 
which overshadowed all other emotion. 

"That was the first time. We just went into an empty bedroom, closed the 
door, undressed, and passionately fucked each other. There was no foreplay 
or building, not because he wasn't a patient lover but because there was no 
need for it. We were both so ripe, nearly to the point of mental exhaustion 
before we ever began, and I wanted him inside me, just as deeply as he could 
go. It wasn't like with Reed. It was instead a mindless, emotionless, 
soulless loving which thrilled my senses and humiliated my intellect. But, 
nevertheless, it was good. So very, very good. 

"Afterwards I helped myself to a drink in the main room where three couples 
still were occupied, half hidden by bits of furniture. I sat alone on a tall 
chair in a corner, not wanting to be disturbed while I drank to a new 
experience." 

An unusually intelligent and thoughtful person, Adele N-forces herself to 
remain alert and inquisitive throughout her first experiment with swapping, 
yet she doesn't allow her awareness to interfere with her sexual involvement 
or enjoyment. In fact she rather masochistically uses that awareness to 
heighten her sensual response to the excessive visual and tactile 
stimulation. Adele indeed has taken that disturbing, threatening aspect of 
the party to the point where she is aroused "more than ever before" and 
experiences an intense orgasm in the hands of the somewhat repugnant 
stranger-figure. Perhaps her dichotomy is best explained by Theodor Reik in 
his book, Of Love and Lust. In his chapter called "Masochism in Modern Man" 
Reik speaks of achieving pleasure by resisting or redefining discomfort: 

The purpose to obtain satisfaction in spite of all threats develops into the 
tendency to gain satisfaction to spite all threats. 

And in this fashion Adele is free to experience a tremendous sexual release 
with her "stranger." She has indeed made the most of her position, which is 
rather a bitter one, since she believes herself to be without an alternative 
other than to comply with her lover's insistence that they experience this 
new sexual game. 

What Adele is unable to see, in fact refuses to see, is that she is 
victimized only by herself. In the same way that she allows herself to 
acquiesce to Reed W-'s urging that they attend swapping parties-quickly 
assuring herself that to put up any resistance at all will mean an immediate 
and ultimate loss of his love-Adele also sees herself as hopefully overcome 
with eroticism, perhaps to the point that she tends to disassociate her 
"real" self with the woman who gave herself so completely to the "stranger." 
In this way she herself therefore becomes the "stranger," and as such has 
made love to herself on one level. 

Reed's conduct is on still another level. He is used to giving orders and 
taking charge of his life, and has deliberately chosen a woman who will 
allow herself to be led. He offers Adele a minimal "reason" for his desire 
for sexual experimentation and mate swapping, because he already knows she 
will respond as he wishes. His fear of being again tied to a female who will 
utilize the legal part of their relationship to keep him sexually committed 
to her is at the surface, and he is not mistaken in assuming Adele may 
attempt to do this at some later date, since she says as much when she 
refers to the other wives at the party: 

Up until that moment I'd been thinking in the back of my mind that I was 
powerless to refuse to accompany Reed to this sex party. After all, we 
weren't yet married and I had no real hold on him, and if I hadn't gone 
perhaps he would have taken another girl. 

This, of course, implies that she would not have felt so "powerless" to 
refuse to attend the party if they were married. Reed attempts to clarify 
his position and does so, giving her a choice. 

It was Sigmund Freud who reminded his students that "unusual conduct isn't 
necessarily neurotic." For a hardworking, hard-playing man such as Reed, 
unusual sexual situations could qualify as simple, intense play. As is true 
of his business associates as well as of himself, the play of the rich can 
at times be more complex and diverse than the play of others. More is 
available to them, and boredom can take the place of desire. Norman Macleod 
once said: 

The rich are the real outcasts of society, and special missions should be 
organized for them. 

Such special playgrounds would have to include sexual stimuli, and the 
orgiastic sex of the party Reed and Adele first attended puts one in mind of 
the great playgrounds of the ancient Romans, where excesses of every sensual 
delight were mandatory since the jaded could not be satiated with 
simplicity. Adultery and wife-swapping were quite popular back then also, 
because, according to the poet Catullus, the love of someone else's wife was 
thought to be far more desirable and more exciting than love of a courtesan 
or concubine. 

In modern times and among people of sophistication comparatively strong 
stimulation is necessary to lift the sexual act from the ordinary and 
generate into it that extra strength which will make it extraordinary. Reed 
is not yet bored sexually with Adele, and yet he puts off the moment when he 
might be by adding variety to his eroticism long before his "need" for it is 
experienced. 

"The cabin was cathedral-like in design and magnificence. It was a huge 
A-frame; one wall was nearly all glass with inserts of stained glass on 
either side and in a triangular shape at the apex of the window. I could 
imagine how it would look in early morning, with streaks of sunlight 
shooting through that colored glass, a beautifully conceived frame for the 
landscape of snow and mountains and lake outside. It was obvious that the 
owners of the cabin had taste and imagination. 

"Reed put his arm around me as we chatted briefly with our host, who 
insisted I call him Brad. He was older, with a graying mustache and 
sideburns, and that orangy-tanned face of the very well cared for, the very 
rich. He was good-looking in a way that had nothing to do with facial 
features. For a man in his fifties he had a firm, muscular body, and the 
tight slacks he wore made a promise out of every word he said. 

"Sandra, Brad's wife, soon detached herself from the small group of couples 
she'd been drinking with, and her beautiful face was alive with excitement 
as she came over to us. "Key game, darling?" she asked her husband. 

"A look of mild irritation crossed Brad's face, reminding me of a little boy 
on the verge of boredom and frustration. "No. We did that last time.' He 
sipped his drink absently for a moment, then gave a hint of a smile. 
"Musical chairs. At least we haven't tried that for a while. And I feel 
energetic tonight!" 

"Sandra kissed his cheek and turned to the others, her flame red gown 
spiraling out around her. "Brad wants musical chairs! Girls, you all know 
where the bedrooms are!" She was like an especially lovely teenager 
announcing a round of spin-the-bottle. 

"I looked at Reed quickly, but he just nodded. Sandra returned and took my 
hand. "Come, darling, you're the only newcomer tonight. You may have the 
master bedroom!" 

"I resisted an urge to glance back at Brad as I let the honey-haired woman 
lead me up the compelling flight of wrought iron stairs. Down the long, 
highly waxed wooden hallway, the other women were disappearing into rooms, 
and I couldn't help feeling a sudden twinge of sexual excitement. The name 
of the game we were about to play sounded suspiciously obvious, and I felt a 
fluttery helpless feeling because now, this second time, it was going to be 
so much easier than the first . . . already I was feeling my nipples 
stiffening and my hot juices beginning to flow. . . . 

"Here, Adele, isn't it lovely?" Sandra waved her hand to include the huge 
bed with its lush tapestry spread, the simple yet elegant furnishings, the 
chocolate fuck rug and the dazzling assortment of antique music boxes and 
cut-glass spray bottles which artfully cluttered the top of a richly carved 
ancient vanity with a curving mirror which reflected both of us. 

"Lovely," I repeated, meaning it. Then Sandra spoke again on her way out, 
and my appreciation for the interior decorating was forgotten. 

"Undress quickly, darling. The men have never been known for their patience. 
Oh, and only one rule-should you find yourself with your own man . . ." he 
giggled, then flicked off the light as she stood poised in the doorway, "you 
must do something you've never done to each other before. I don't think 
that's possible with Brad and myself, but do try. Have fun!" 

"I undressed with only the light from the dim hallway to see by. Placing my 
gown over the back of a chair, I quickly got into the big bed. Already I 
could hear the sound of footsteps in the hall, muted giggles from the other 
rooms, and the soft, final thuds of doors being closed. The sounds made what 
would come next a reality, and 

I gently pinched a nipple to keep from enduring the sweet ache another 
moment. Then a man quickly stepped into the room and closed the door. 

"I held my breath in the darkness, releasing it when the bed sagged under 
the weight of another body. A hand reached out, slid up my body, rested 
against my cheek, and then he was kissing me, his tongue going into my mouth 
while a hand went to my naked breast. It felt firm and hot and demanding, 
and my hard nipple swelled against the palm, wanting to be crushed. 

"Adele? You Reed's girl, Adele?" The voice was deep and masculine, but 
completely unknown to me. 

"Yes," I whispered, closing my eyes and responding to the rough hand 
squeezing my flesh. 

"I got the jackpot, first try. It's going to be a great night," he said, 
pulling away from me. 

"The sensual, wonderful feel of his hand on me was so good that I reached to 
bring him back. 

"He laughed. "Hot little bitch, huh? Fine. That just happens to be the way I 
like them. Don't worry, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I just want to get rid 
of these clothes. You'll like me even better without them." 

"My face flamed in the darkness as I waited, and then he was back, his body 
long and hot and hard against me . . . I'd pulled the spread back and had 
managed to free a sheet from the bedding, which I'd used to cover myself, 
though I'd smiled at this lingering touch of modesty. My partner now peeled 
off the sheet, chuckling a little as he fitted his body to mine.-It felt so 
good, this fleshy kiss. 

"Who. . . . I don't know who you are," I whispered finally, after another 
deep, wet kiss. His tongue inflamed me as it explored the inside of my 
mouth, and I moaned as he kneaded my breasts with both strong hands. 

"Does it matter? Jess, baby, now do you remember?" 

"I didn't, but I realized he was right. What did it matter? He was fitting 
his knees inside my legs and my hot young body was responding. His cock 
attracted me like a magnet, and I felt my hips lifting and swaying, my 
juicing cunt attempting to plaster itself against his bar of throbbing 
flesh. I thought briefly of Reed, off in another bedroom, plying his 
wonderful prick or snake-like tongue on another woman's body. But I couldn't 
hold the jealous thought long, not with hands touching me, lips kissing me, 
a cock seeking my slit. . . . 

"You move like you haven't had any for a month! Jesus, I love a hot bitch!" 
Jess ducked his head and began to suck my nipples, going from one to the 
other and then back again. "You have beautiful tits, baby. You're beautiful 
all over. . . ." His hand worked across my body, moving over my belly and 
dropping to the insides of my thighs. 

"I moaned softly as he began to play with my moist slit. He used one finger 
to scout ahead and explore my inflamed clitoris and then he brought his 
thumb up, sinking it deeply inside my body. With his other hand he brought 
my sweating palm to his swollen cock. "Just play with it nice, Adele. That's 
it. . . . Don't pump it too much or I'll come all over your hand. That's 
good. . . ." 

"From the next bedroom I could hear a muffled scream of orgasm. It made me 
wonder if it had been Reed who had skillfully evoked that outcry. It was so 
strange, to wonder that-and care, too -even while my hand stroked and rubbed 
the throbbing cock of another man. 

"Jess pulled away. "You keep playing real nice like that, hear? Just don't 
stop. Don't get too vigorous until you feel yourself start to come." 

"I held on tightly while the rest of him moved over me. I felt the strong, 
hairy length of his leg brush my shoulder, and finally he was across me, 
half on his side, his cock poised so that I had easy access to it while his 
head was cushioned between the softness of my inner thighs. 

"I held my breath as he began kissing and nibbling on my tender flesh. He 
played close to my aching core, but he was content to tease me for a while. 
Excited by the game, I began to sway my hips in an attempt to force his face 
on my hot and eager pussy. Meanwhile my hand tugged urgently on his prick 
and fondled his balls. It was crazy, his doing that to me, and finally I 
began to whimper in frustration. 

"Something troubling you, baby?" He sucked a mouthful of flesh so close to 
my cunt that I could feel his breath on my pulsating clitoris. 

"Oh, don't tease me anymore, Jess. Please! Do it, please! Do it to me. . . 
." I pleaded, my free hand going helplessly to the back of his head, as if 
to force him to do as I asked. 

"Do what, doll? Tell me what you want me to do. . . ." He licked his wet 
tongue down over the edge of my mound, his chin tickling the wiry dark 
hairs. 

"I began jerking on his meat while my hips did a drum roll against his face. 
Jess either had a very effective approach toward women in general, or he was 
very perceptive about the way I liked my sex. I was so hot that I'd have 
begged on bended knee, if he'd wanted me to. 

"And go easy on that cock, honey, or I'll shoot off and that'll be the end 
of our fun, even before you get any. . . ." 

"Immediately I stopped my frenzied beating of his flesh and arched my back, 
thrusting and opening my cunt for him. "Please," I whimpered, "please eat 
me. Lick my pussy. Please, Jess, I can't stand it. Don't tease me any more. 
Lick it! Lick it!" His hot breath was right on my pussy now and I could feel 
the steaming juices dripping from my slit. 

"Still he took his time about it. First he carefully lapped the hairy flesh 
of the outer lips while parting them with his sensitive fingers. Then he 
began tonguing the velvety inner folds, avoiding the throbbing button which 
ached for his attentions. Finally I felt the tip of his tongue quiver 
against the bottom of my clitoris, and I began to moan like a hurt child. 
Then, with no further warning, Jess sucked the entire marble of my throbbing 
clit into his mouth. He began to suck and lick it as if it were a little 
cock, and my body went wild from this unexpected direct manipulation. When 
Reed or other men had licked me, it was always a slow and sweet building to 
orgasm, but Jess was attacking me as if he wanted to force my come. It was 
like being tongue-raped, and at first I tried to slow him down, moderate his 
actions. 

"No! Please, don't . . . not so rough! Ooh, Jess . . . no . . . no.. . . 
It's too much. . . . Go easy, please. Ooh . . . I can't. . . don't.. . I 
can't take it. . . ooh. . . ." I used both my hands on his head, weakly 
trying to pry his sucking mouth from my delicate clitoris. But he just 
reached up, without a pause, and returned my hands to his body, pressing one 
to his pounding cock and the other to his swollen balls. 

"Helplessly I moaned and twisted on the bed, my hands fondling him 
passionately as he wished me to, my sensitive cunt a prisoner to his darting 
tongue, sucking mouth and sharp, nipping teeth. I felt as if I were tumbling 
head-first into a black pit. It was a violent kind of sex, painless and yet 
almost too painful to bear. The fierce sensations rocked my body as his 
tongue lashing continued, and when finally he brought his strong hands up to 
squeeze and mold the tender flesh of my breasts I began to jerk my hand 
frantically over his throbbing cock. I could sense the hot come gathering in 
his balls and moving up for the final eruption, but I barely felt the thick 
cream explode over my hand. I was too busy biting back the scream which 
swept over me as my own body suddenly buckled and went wild. It was like 
finally descending to the bottom of that black pit, and I cried out with the 
most violent orgasm I'd ever known. . . . 

"Only then did he grudgingly release his sucking mouth from my aching 
clitoris. . . . 

"As if in a dream I watched the man wipe his hot come off his belly and 
leave the room. "We'll have to do that again real soon, honey," he said, 
throwing me a kiss. The door barely closed behind him before it again opened 
and another man entered the room, naked, his clothing in his hand. 

"Fortunately this one only wanted to fuck me. He, too, was unknown to me, 
and he was young enough to be instantly hard, even though he had just come 
from another woman. 

"He kissed me, but it was in a polite sort of way, as if he'd learned long 
ago that a fuck should always be preceded by a kiss. The same with the 
feeling of my breasts. He didn't really come alive until he started pumping 
his cock into me. He wasn't big, but he was thick, and after all that 
sucking he felt very good in me. 

"After a few strokes the man-Bill, he said his name was-stopped moving. "I'm 
not quite as young as I look, I guess. My back is killing me. How about you 
doing a little of the work?" 

"I climbed over him willingly enough. On his back with his stomach taut 
Bill's dick seemed longer and even thicker. I straddled his hips and reached 
down, guiding him until he was firmly into me. Then I stiffened my spine and 
slowly ate his cock with my cunt. 

"Bill loved it. He reached up and began to play with my breasts and nipples. 
His touch was gentle and I needed it rough there. I don't know, some girls 
like it gentle, I suppose, but I don't have much feeling in my tits unless 
they're handled roughly, then it's wonderful. Not brutally or anything, just 
firmly. 

"Harder," I asked Bill. "Touch them harder.' I stopped moving and put my 
hand over his. I squeezed firmly and sighed. "Like that. Go ahead. I won't 
break." 

"That settled, I began moving on his prick again. I humped slowly and 
smoothly, groaning as his tool soothed every wrinkle in my cunt. It felt so 
good, especially after the extreme stimulation of Jess' tongue. Now I wanted 
the fullness, the hardness, the depth of total penetration. 

"Bill put his hands on my soft hips, moving me around awhile, then he let 
his hands slide back over my rump. He cupped each buttock in each palm, and 
he squeezed them as firmly as he had my breasts. Then he released his grip, 
moved back to my breasts with their jutting nipples and began the 
three-point touching all over again. Each time the hands would come to my 
hips, he'd disrupt whatever rhythm I'd instigated and subject me to a few 
seconds of irregular humping. It felt wonderful and lengthened our session. 
I hadn't thought I'd be able to orgasm again after the scene with Jess, but 
I knew I was rapidly building up to a climax. Guiltily, it flashed through 
my mind that I was rarely this stimulated, even with Reed, whom I adored so 
deeply. The thought fled, however, as I started to come, and it was a 
womb-fluttering sensation that wasn't nearly as strong as the earlier one, 
but was every bit as satisfying. 

"I continued my strong, speedy hip movements on Bill's swollen cock during 
my orgasm and for the minute following it, until he grabbed me around the 
waist and pounded into me for a few, desperate strokes, spurting into me as 
he moved. 

"The next hour was a blur. Another man followed Bill . . . but I'd had it. I 
persuaded him that there was nothing in the world I'd like better than to 
coax his orgasm with my mouth and hand. He was an older man, and I think he 
was grateful, because he could hardly get it up. He wasn't very big, either, 
and that made it easier still, and I really did give him an especially good 
sucking, just for being such a good guy. I was using my tongue to tickle and 
stimulate the underside of his cock when I realized who he was. The man I 
was blowing just happened to be one of the most important men on all Wall 
Street, a man who could make or break whole industries. 

I was a little awed as I again remembered who these men were that I was 
sexually entertaining and being entertained by. . . . 

"The next man to enter my room that night-and, fortunately, the last-was 
Reed himself. I was half asleep when he entered, and as I felt his weight 
ease into the bed next to me, I didn't even know who he was. 

"Adele? Is that you, honey?" 

"I touched his chest as if to make sure it was actually Reed. "In the flesh. 
What's left of it." 

"He hugged me. "Big night, huh?" 

"I nodded, too tired and drained to answer. Yet I felt a little awkward with 
him, as if we shouldn't be together like this, here, after we had been with 
so many others. Even his familiar body next to mine, not doing anything 
other than just being there, giving me warmth and love felt weird, wrong, 
somehow. It seemed impossible that he could share this bed and not my 
feelings. 

"I told Foster and Charlene we'd most likely be free to join them for a 
weekend cruise on their yacht the eighteenth of next month. Have we anything 
lined up for then?" 

"I thought a moment. "No," I answered truthfully, sorry I hadn't been able 
to come up with a previous commitment. All of a sudden, endless long 
weekends of swapping and more swapping loomed ahead in my mind for us, and I 
experienced a definite, sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. 

"I was at a total loss to explain the way I felt, even to myself. I'd 
enjoyed sex on these two occasions enormously. It had been far more 
explosive and fulfilling than I'd anticipated. Yet the realization that my 
future with Reed would be one long swap party panicked me. Reed was an 
impatient man in certain ways, and he thrived on one experience being bigger 
than the one before. It was the way he conducted his business, and I 
wondered how that pattern would work in our life together. Maybe if we'd 
just stayed the two of us alone a while longer we could have expanded our 
sexuality slowly, and Reed would have been content with less for a longer 
time. But I'd agreed to do this swapping thing with him, and in a short week 
we'd been to what amounted to an orgy, a night of musical beds, and now we 
were going on a weekend swapping party with another couple on the ocean. 
Where could we go from there? I was a little frightened, all of a sudden. 

"I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I hadn't heard Reed's comment. 
"What?" 

"He laughed and lit a cigarette. "I said we were supposed to do something to 
each other we'd never done before. So give me a minute and I'll see if I can 
come up with anything.' " 

Once again Adele has masochistically acted in a way she believes is against 
her own interests in going along with Reed as he furthered his exploration 
of the thrills and excitement of sex via swapping. She is keenly aware that 
her lover's tendency is to expect constant stimulation and variety in all 
phases of his life, and that unless the newest experience is greater than 
the one before he is going to be bored and irritable. Yet Adele offers no 
resistance to their participation in the swapping, and, in fact, blots out 
the negative sides of it while she herself is actively engaged in it. It is 
only afterwards that she bothers to dwell on the dangerous side issues-and 
this is futile where any practical application is concerned, because she 
keeps her fears and observations from Reed. In this way she punishes herself 
for the pleasure she has experienced and frees herself to accept the next 
exposure. 

 CHAPTER FOUR - Hank's Special Dividend 

"It had to happen sooner or later, which is exactly the reason I kept 
putting off the doctor appointment as long as I did. But Nedra kept nagging 
at me, and finally I'd run out of excuses. 

"Doctors give me a laugh, anyway. They waste a fortune going to medical 
school to give three forms of advice and medication, and I don't mind being 
quoted on it either-for children they prescribe aspirin or a laxative, 
juices and bed rest, to women they give tranquilizers or hormones, a diet, 
and a suggestion that they grab five minutes of feet-up relaxation twice a 
day, and to men they drag out the diet, insist you have to give up smoking 
and drinking, and suggest golf. For that you need a wall full of degrees! 

"Look, I'm not kidding around, Hank," Dr. Walker insisted at the tail end of 
that visit. "You're carrying thirty extra pounds, your lungs are coated with 
nicotine and all that booze is going to start making itself felt. You work 
in one of the most excitable streets in the world, your blood pressure's too 
high anyway, and I don't like some of the results we're seeing on the tests 
we took." 

"I'm a busy man and I was itching to get out of there. It wasn't that I 
wasn't listening to Gene, but I took it all as a routine spiel, a 
doctor-to-patient lecture for the patient who's recently turned forty. 

"He must have known I was only half believing him, because he started 
getting red. "Listen to me, damn it, Hank! We've known each other too long 
to bullshit! If you don't start taking care of yourself you're going to die 
a very young man! 

I see it happen day after day, and when I tell you I don't like what I see 
happening to you, I don't mean I'm handing you a crock! Your liver is 
beginning to resemble the liver of an alcoholic. You can no longer afford to 
smoke or drink. If you keep it up, if you convince yourself that I'm not 
serious, you're going to leave Nedra a lovely young widow. Damn it, man, you 
don't realize how fortunate you are to be here today! I might not have seen 
you until after the damage was done! That's the way it usually is. So get 
the hell out of here and think about it. You're a great man with 
investments, and I only hope you have the sense to realize you are your best 
investment!" 

"It wasn't like Gene to get upset like that, and he was finally reaching me. 
I knew he was on the level. "You want me to give up smoking and drinking 
completely, Gene?" 

"He nodded. "It can't be a halfway thing, Hank. Not at this point." 

"I was still scared, but I was also irritated. It had', taken me a long time 
to build up to the point where I could have the very best in liquor and 
tobacco, and I tended to be on the self-indulgent side. 

"What the hell am I going to do for fun and relaxation? You want me to start 
taking dope, like the kids?" 

"Gene laughed. "I'd tell you to go ahead, but all that would probably make 
you want is a real cigarette. Look, Hank, you lucky bastard, you have the 
greatest little relaxer at home. That beautiful wife of yours. Go home and 
take her to bed. Sex is the greatest pastime of all, and that's the only 
place I'm not shorting you." 

"I left his office more than a little depressed. What he said about my wife 
was the final blow. If he only knew. . . . But a man can't tell another man 
about a thing like that, not even his own doctor. How would it look, a 
successful man like myself, married to a doll of a woman who happens to-be 
colder than an ice cube? 

"Nedra is my second wife. I met her eight months after Connie died. I was 
working like a maniac in those days, and that was when I was really doing 
some heavy drinking. I couldn't stand going home to that empty house, so I 
went to bars and drank, instead. As often as possible I'd bring a woman back 
with me, not only for the sex but just so the house wouldn't seem so empty. 

"I didn't meet Nedra that way. She's no cheap pickup. She was the sister of 
a business associate's wife, and I met her at a dinner party. I was 
relatively sober at the time, and Nedra was far and away the most attractive 
woman present. She was a divorcee with a young son in a military school and 
a daughter at home, and she was class all the way. I put on my best manners 
and by the end of the evening she had agreed to go to a play with me the 
following weekend. 

"We went out together for a little over a month before I asked her to marry 
me. I swear I don't know why I asked her. I was lonely, mostly, and she was 
a fine looking, upstanding woman whom I could respect. And, in a way, I did 
love her. The craziest part was that I never once tried to lay a finger on 
her, much less my cock. Don't ask me why. 

"It wasn't because she wasn't sexy. Aside from the face of an angel 
surrounded by a perfectly arranged head of ash blonde hair, Nedra had the 
body of a stripper. She had a good pair of tits on her and she was long and 
slim, with a neat yet sexy build, and she couldn't make a move that didn't 
make a man wonder how she'd move in bed next to him. But she was a lady, and 
somehow a man felt that he had to control his fantasies when he was with 
her. When I'd gotten to the point where I'd take Nedra home and then go 
looking for an easy lay who reminded me in some small way of her, I asked 
Nedra to be my wife. 

"In many ways it was a fine thing to have done. Nedra was a good, efficient 
housekeeper, and she didn't waste my money on maids. She could throw an 
impressive dinner party and my associates wished their own wives were as 
charming. She had taste, a sense of humor, and she was a sensational gourmet 
cook. She was also a talented artist, and her landscapes had been in several 
shows around New York. 

"It was in bed that my perfect wife became a different person. I'm not 
bragging, but I've never once-before this-had a woman who couldn't come 
alive in my arms. I'm not hung like a horse or anything, but I know how to 
make a woman feel glad that she had decided to go to bed with me. There's 
nothing I won't do to make a woman feel good, partly because I'm selfish 
enough to know that my sex will be better if I get her hot and I want the 
best I can get, and partly because I like doing all those things that turn a 
woman on. 

"I tried everything with Nedra. Our honeymoon was one big try on my part. I 
took an hour just kissing her and touching, another hour working my tongue 
in and out of her gorgeous pussy. Everything. And my wife just smiled at me 
apologetically and tried to go through the motions, as if that would be 
enough for a man like myself. 

"I tried explaining to her how vital passion is in getting your kicks when 
you're over the age of twenty-one or so. "It isn't enough that you just 
spread your legs and let me do what I want. I want you to want it, honey." 

"She admitted that she'd always been that way, even with her first husband. 
She'd never told me about her sexual disinterest before we were married 
partially because I 'never asked' and partially because she was ashamed and 
frightened that I wouldn't want her. She was so sweet and defenseless, so 
different from her usual sophisticated, aloof self, that I couldn't do 
anything then but take her in my arms and reassure her that I loved her 
anyway. 

"That didn't last, though, and I tried several times to get her to see a 
shrink. I figured it couldn't hurt, and for a while she did go, but nothing 
seemed to improve. 

"Eventually I got a little angry by my wife's lack of response. I took to 
drinking heavily again, and no matter how much of a killing I'd make at the 
Market, I'd still feel like a mouse when I got home. 

"Nedra was upset at my behavior, too. She made it obvious that she felt it 
was all her fault, and she very nicely looked the other way when I finally 
began a brief affair with another woman. Elaine was attractive and a new 
employee, and she was between lovers. At twenty-seven she was ripe and 
experienced, and she loved sex. She had small tits but a hot cunt, and she 
loved being fucked. I'd take her out to lunch and half the time we'd end up 
in a hotel room, with her giving me a sultry blow job while I licked that 
wild cunt of hers. She was a natural redhead, and that little strawberry box 
of hers was the best lunch in town. 

"It lasted a few months, and Elaine was always ready for more. I moved her 
into an apartment close to the office eventually, and we'd spend enjoyable 
hours there, with my cock or face buried in her pussy. It was great, except 
for one thing. 

"Don't ask me why, but playing behind my wife's very conveniently turned 
back bothered me. I knew Nedra regarded the whole thing as a necessary evil 
brought on by her own lack of sensuality, but something about it left me 
cold after the first wave of pleasure began to fade. I didn't like the lousy 
game of pretend we were playing with each other. Hell, I didn't get married 
for this. 

"So I cut out the fooling around for a while, and once again I tried to 
arouse my wife. There's something in me that won't give up until I'm hit 
over the head with something. Needless to say, it didn't work out. So I went 
back to the drinking and the long hours at work. 

"Anything can be bearable if you don't think about it too much. I used to be 
a real cunt hound, but I managed to push most of it out of my mind. Sure, I 
looked at the women, same as always, but I had such a rotten feeling about 
that secret affair bit that I didn't seriously consider getting into 
anything regular again. Sure, when the pressure got too great and I had to 
feel a passionate body under mine, I'd find me someone to pass an hour or so 
with. But it didn't make me comfortable. I even thought about asking Nedra 
for a divorce, but I didn't really want that either. 

"Things might have gone on like that for a hell of a long time, maybe even 
until I was too old to give a damn, if my doctor hadn't put the screws on 
all my other vices. I walked away from that office like a dead man. If only 
I could go home and take Nedra to bed and get and give some real 
satisfaction.. . . 

"It forced me to take a good, hard look at our sex lives. The thing had gone 
far enough. Something had to change or there wasn't any point in sticking 
together. It was then that the story Harvey had told me a few days before 
came to my mind. 

"Harvey was a drinking buddy and divorced, and he had a reputation for 
chasing pussy even in his sleep. We were downing a few at the local bar, a 
phony clip joint which faked it as a dislocated English pub. As usual I was 
kidding him about his latest conquests. That was when Harvey stopped me and 
insisted that, as a married man, I was in a far better position to score 
than he was these days, especially with a wife as pretty as Nedra. 

"I made it obvious I didn't know what he was talking about, and he asked me 
if I hadn't been invited to a lot of parties recently. I thought about it 
and realized that he was right-it seemed that I had been invited to 
everything from cocktail parties to weekend bashes lately. I hadn't paid 
much attention, because as a rule I tried to duck out of as many parties 
with business contacts as possible. Experience had taught me that there was 
too much of an opportunity for a chance drunken remark to screw up a deal I 
might have been working on for weeks. 

"Eight out of ten of those invitations was for you and Nedra to attend a 
swingers' party, Hank, old man.' He grinned at my blank expression. 
"Swapping, you square! You know, you take my wife and give me yours." 

"You're out of your cunt-happy mind, Harve.' I seriously thought he was 
joking. 

"Hey, I'm serious! You think I'm putting you on? If you didn't keep your 
head so buried in business you'd know what was going on! The whole world's 
gone wife-swapping crazy, and some of the straightest, unlikeliest men I 
know are having themselves a ball. Like Jerry Mover at 

H----'s! I understand that his wife is crazy for parties. She's a little 
doll and I once made a pass at her. You know, at one of those drunken 
evenings over at Larry's place. But all I got was a case of frostbite. Yet 
somehow, now that she and her husband are both doing it, it's fine with her. 
Go figure it out. . . ." 

"I'd meant to tell Nedra about what Harvey had said, but it slipped my mind. 
I went on home and told Nedra what the doctor had said, and I didn't exactly 
mind watching her wince a little as I repeated Gene's suggestion that I step 
up my sex life to compensate for the drinking and smoking; And all the time 
I was talking I kept thinking of what Harve had said. Images of Larry's wife 
came to my mind, and I got a kick out of undressing the image and mentally 
fondling whatever-her-name-was. 

"The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I liked the whole 
idea, the concept of a wife and husband doing the thing together. That way 
there wouldn't be any guilt or recriminations afterwards, and a couple could 
get all the sexual gratification they wanted. I waited until we were in bed 
to broach the subject to Nedra, and by that time it was looking very logical 
to me. 

" "There's no dishonesty," I pointed out as she remained quiet. "And no need 
to divorce a wife or husband who doesn't cut it sexually.' I winked at her. 

"We didn't get much sleep that night. Not that Nedra fought it, not even at 
the start. But I wanted her to hear all my points, because I wanted her 
cooperation. While this wasn't something I probably would've come up with 
myself, I was warming more and more to the idea. I hardly missed the booze 
and cigarettes at all. 

"Nedra was strangely passive. I think I'd expected a lot of static from her, 
and honestly I would have granted that she had reason for resistance. After 
all, if she couldn't get much of anything out of having sex with her own 
husband, I knew she wouldn't be looking forward to much from a stranger. But 
she finally agreed that it might be worth trying, and we went to sleep with 
the issue settled. If I had any second thoughts I reminded myself that it 
likely wouldn't be any harder for Nedra to spread her legs for some other 
man, and, in a crazy way, she would indirectly be making me much happier. 

"It took three weeks before I accepted a party invitation, and I made sure 
first that it was to be a real swap session. Once done, I could hardly work 
the rest of the day. 

"I was horny that night, just thinking about the party two days away. I 
glanced at Nedra sleeping next to me and considered waking her up. But the 
thought of her non-responsive sex was particularly unappealing with the 
promise of something better ahead. Instead I jacked off, thinking about what 
might happen at Dave's party." 

Eric Berne, in his work A Layman's Guide to Psychiatry and Psychoanalysis, 
mentions that "Good sex is not doing things to somebody, but doing things 
with somebody." 

Hank agrees, to the point where he prefers actual masturbation to the 
pseudo-masturbation of making love to his wife. Berne continues: 

Doing things to somebody, even a real partner instead of an imaginary one, 
is merely a form of masturbation with another person present, and is 
different from the experience of mutual sexual pleasure that comes from an 
adult sexual emotion. 

Hank has a very real problem. He finds himself married to a woman who cannot 
return his sexual feeling, and because Hank, like Berne, finds sex 
inadequate if it is experienced without the partner's reciprocal enthusiasm, 
the passionless union threatens all phases of their married life. Hank seems 
confused about even the basic love for his wife: ". . . And, in a way, I did 
love her. . . . " Then, further in the narration: "She was so sweet and 
defenseless, so different from her usual sophisticated, aloof self, that I 
couldn't do anything then but take her in my arms and tell her that I loved 
her anyway." Later, confused and unfulfilled, he says, "I even thought about 
asking Nedra for a divorce, but I really didn't want that either." 

He finds the necessary passionate response in outside sexual encounters, but 
he finds that less than satisfying in other ways: 

Don't ask me why, but playing behind my wife's very conveniently turned back 
bothered me. I knew Nedra regarded the whole thing as a necessary evil 
brought on by her own lack of sensuality, but something about it left me 
cold after the first wave of pleasure began to fade. I didn't like the lousy 
game of pretend we were playing with each other. Hell, I didn't get married 
for this. 

Obviously Hank finds "sneaking around" in order to get his sexual pleasure 
uncomfortable, however gratifying the experience itself. But it is 
impossible to understand Hank and Nedra's position without first 
understanding some of the factors which contribute to Nedra's frigidity. 

Havelock Ellis doesn't believe that complete sexual anesthesia (frigidity) 
can exist! 

It seems equally doubtful whether complete sexual anesthesia can exist in 
women. There can indeed be no doubt as to the extreme frequency of 
hypoesthesia, or, as it is usually termed, frigidity, which has indeed been 
estimated-I do not know by what method-as occurring in nearly seventy 
percent of women. Such wild statements must be put aside. 

But Ellis puts the blame for the apparent frigidity on men, particularly 
husbands: 

The chief reason why women are considered "frigid" lies less in themselves 
than in men. It is evident throughout that while in men the sexual impulse 
tends to develop spontaneously and actively, in women, however powerful it 
may be latently and more or less subconsciously, its active manifestations 
needs in the first place to be called out. That, in our society, is normally 
the husband's function to effect. It is his part to educate his wife in the 
life of sex; it is he who will make sex demands a conscious desire to her. 
If he, by his ignorance, prejudice, impatience, or lack of insight, fails to 
play his natural part, his wife may, by no defect of her own, be counted as 
"frigid." 

Yet in the case of Hank and Nedra this cannot be regarded so simply. Hank 
has taken pains to arouse his wife fully, and he patiently tries even in the 
face of previous total failure. He isn't ignorant to the importance of 
arousing a woman, and he has no prejudice as to methods of arousal. He has 
proven his patience, and all we are left to go on is the possibility of some 
lack of insight. 

As the narrative continues, it becomes obvious that this last option indeed 
proves to be somewhat responsible. For this couple, swapping eventually 
works wonders for the marriage and their problem, though not because of the 
simple exchange of sexual partners. Nedra discovers that she can feel sexual 
excitement and experiences her first orgasm, and there is no reason to doubt 
that once unblocked, her normal sexual desire will now be allowed to 
surface. 

Nedra's problem proved to be basically non-sex related. An exquisite child 
and beautiful woman, Nedra never had to struggle or even yearn for male 
attention or adoration. She was pursued long before she, a late bloomer, had 
any real interest in the other sex. The daughter of an aggressive, bitter 
woman, Nedra had learned from early childhood that she could control men by 
their desire for her. Sex and her participation in it, never was made at all 
attractive to the girl, and she began her maturing process with the mistaken 
idea that sex was a means to attract males, and certainly not a means of 
pleasure for herself. Because of this we can better understand why, when 
Nedra feels herself in a competitive position in regard to her husband's 
attention, this sparks her latent sexuality. Triggered, all of her repressed 
eroticism surfaces, and she proves to be a thoroughly responsive woman. 

It is doubtful whether the swapping of mates alone would have proved a 
satisfactory arrangement for this couple. Certainly Hank would have found 
some measure of satisfaction, since his sexual gratification could be taken 
without the feeling that he was cheating on his wife, since it would be 
happening with her full awareness and consent, and usually with her 
committing a similar act in the next room. But the feeling in Hank which 
cares so much that his wife be gratified also would likely prove to 
interject itself on his pleasure eventually, and he would find himself as 
far from gratification as with his affair with Elaine. 

Another interesting aspect of this case is the willingness on Nedra's part 
to accept her husband's infidelities. She "conveniently turns her back" and 
pretends not to see, for in this way alone can she feel freed from guilt in 
regard to her sexual denial towards her husband. Yet she still has the inner 
conviction that, given his choice, Hank would still prefer to be enjoying 
sexual relations with her. It is only when she sees that when he does have 
the choice, he decides on the other woman that she reacts and, in Hank's 
words, "comes alive!" 

"Dave's party turned out to be a typical city party. Too much booze, an 
excess of rich food, and enough cigarette smoke to make my lungs think I'd 
started the habit again. 

"If it wasn't for the promise of some real fun later, I'd have grabbed Nedra 
and left. All those ice cubes rattling in that amber firewater made me want 
to gag as I sipped a glass of ginger ale. Diet ginger ale, at that. I was 
still weak at the .sight of so many people puffing away on those cigarettes, 
and if it wasn't for the fact that Nedra had quit also out of sympathy I 
don't think I could have stood it. At least we had each other to encourage. 

"But on the other side I'd managed to drop eighteen pounds already, and I 
hadn't touched a drop of anything alcoholic. Oh, I'd broken down and taken a 
few cigarettes the first week, but the combination of Nedra's quitting and a 
particularly graphic article I happened to read in the paper put a quick 
stop to that. 

"I nursed my drink and began to look around at the women. They all looked 
damn good. Of course, most all women were looking damn good to me at that 
point. But there weren't any prettier than my wife. I noticed a few other 
men checking her out, and I hoped they wouldn't be too disappointed with 
what they found themselves with. I had the idea, right or wrong, that Nedra 
had it in her mind to fake it a little, when the time came for some action. 
She knew she'd never be able to keep up a farce with one man all the time, 
but I was pretty sure she felt she could handle it with a one shot 
situation. She had done it with other men, those who insisted on a little 
sex before getting overly serious about marriage, and it wasn't until it 
became a regular thing that they discovered the truth. 

"The party thinned out until there were a dozen or so couples left. Then 
Dave got up on a chair to speak. He was pretty drunk, and he nearly fell 
during his speech. 

"I have here a slip-a hatful of slips of paper with the license numbers of 
everyone's cars. Each of the ladies gets to pick a slip. Then she gets to 
go-to go downstairs and find the car with the number they selected. Just go 
right on in that car, girls, and your prince will come and take you away 
from all this.' He steadied himself on the bare shoulder of an attractive 
brunette. "Come and get 'em!" 

"While the women stepped forward and took a slip of paper I could hardly 
bring myself to look at Nedra. I was feeling a little ashamed of being there 
about then, and a little angry, too. I hadn't played games of this kind 
since I was a snot-nosed kid, and I liked a more mature way of choosing a 
woman. 

"But after a few minutes I began to cool off. Shit, if I'd been belting them 
down all evening as everyone else had, this would probably look like fun. It 
was democratic, anyway, and I decided that I was being too stuffy. I noticed 
Nedra take a number and start out the door, her beautiful face calm but 
unreadable. 

"After the women were all gone, the guys began to tell off-color stories and 
help themselves to a final drink. 

"Don't get drunk. The life you save might be my wife's. . . ." 

"No, I mean it. Let the market take a few more dives like that and I'll be 
looking for my own window. . . ." 

". . . So the guy says "not with my wife, you don't!" I told him he'd sure 
come to the wrong party. . . ." 

"I finished off my ginger ale and wished I could believe it had been a 
double scotch. Finally everyone started drifting off and I hung back. My 
mind kept going from a curiosity of who I might end up with to a low key 
curiosity about the man Nedra would draw. Finally I settled on a light 
daydream about the woman I would spend the next few hours with. 

"The good-looking brunette was waiting in my car. She was curled up in a 
corner smoking a cigarette and her heels were neatly resting on my dashboard 
while her stockinged feet were wriggling on my seat. "The damn things hurt," 
she complained as she moved her feet to make room for me. 

"She had a very sexy voice, and the rest of her was nice, too. I could feel 
my cock begin to swell. "Where to?" I asked, not exactly sure how these 
things were supposed to progress. 

"She shrugged and smiled. "I don't care. Your place or a hotel or something. 
It's up to the man to provide the nest, lover.' She scooted over on the seat 
until she was very close and I could smell her musky perfume. I liked it. 

"We checked into a hotel I sometimes used, and I was glad when she refused 
my offer of a drink. I didn't like my women drunk and I didn't think I could 
face another ginger ale. 

"She wanted to play, but she didn't want to waste any time, either. Some 
women love kissing, and others like a man to get a little more into it for 
the warm-up. I undressed her and myself, and she immediately suggested we 
'have some real fun.' I got on my knees while she stood there and I slowly 
began to run my tongue up her delicious dark slit. She sighed and began to 
run her fingers through my hair. I found her clitoris and flicked my tongue 
over it several times before darting lower and shoving it playfully in her 
snatch. I licked her a few minutes longer and then we got on the bed. Paula 
turned out to know what to do with a cock, and we sixty-nined for a while. 
She was hot and responsive, and I loved the way she moaned and trembled as I 
ate her. My prick got so hard it hurt, and when we got down to some serious 
fucking we were both as ready for it as some kids out on their first heavy 
date. 

"Paula had done a lot of fucking in her thirty or so years, and she moved 
her sleek hips like a pro. She knew how to provoke a man, yet keep him from 
tumbling over the edge, and I thought my nuts were going to fall off by the 
time I finally made it. She had had herself a couple of orgasms by then, and 
she took a quick shower while I rested up. 

"I like a man who knows how to use his tongue," she said, tossing the towel 
on the rug. She was slim but tall, with nice tits and a cute little-girl 
cunt. I brushed aside her dark curls and really began to lick that cunt. It 
was so nice to be with a woman who could appreciate it that I really went to 
town on her. I used my fingers as well as my tongue, and when she jerked her 
legs up in the air I took one look at her dimpled asshole and gave that a 
passionate tongue-fucking too. She loved it and kept me back there for a 
while, and to show her appreciation she got down on the bed and gave my cock 
a terrific sucking. Then, just for the hell of it, she licked her way over 
my balls and tongued my asshole, too. By the time we got to fucking, I was 
all set to go. One thing about giving up smoking-it does improve the old 
breathing. 

"By the time I got home Nedra was in bed. I took a long shower and climbed 
in next to her. I don't know what I expected. Something. But she was the 
same as ever. I mean exactly the same. No how-was-it or anything. I was all 
set to talk to her about it, but her attitude was so casual as she mentioned 
some problem with her son she wanted my advice about. 

"I didn't know how I felt about the whole sex swapping thing. I'd enjoyed 
it, sure. I watched for Nedra's reaction when I told her Art and his wife 
Harriet had asked us over for 'drinks' the following Thursday. Art and 
Harriet were famous for their more intimate swapping-if that's the word for 
it. They didn't go much for the big party mob scenes, and liked to invite an 
attractive couple over for a sedate swap. I was especially flattered because 
Harriet was the power behind that family, and she did most of the choosing. 
Harriet was a little strawberry blonde like Elaine, but she was an ex-model 
who got by strictly on her own looks. She was the type of woman who gave you 
a hard on while you talked to her on the goddamned phone! In a sterile 
business suit she had tits that begged to be sucked on, and I'd been more 
than a little excited by her for months. There was no way I wanted to turn 
down that invitation, and I was glad when Nedra offered no objection. 

"They knew I was on the wagon and offered me coffee instead. Anything would 
have been fine as long as I was having it with Harriet. She kept eying me as 
she drank, and I was beginning to like this swapping bit more and more. 

"I was so stimulated by my hostess that I didn't notice the tension in the 
air right away. Art was drinking very heavily, and when I became aware that 
something was wrong I got the idea that the couple had been battling before 
we arrived. They were covering it up now, but I watched Art get drunk. He 
began paying attention to Nedra, though, so I felt free to start approaching 
Harriet. She was all for it, and we sat very close together and teased each 
other a little. I followed her into the small sunken den to see a recently 
acquired original print done by an artist we both admired, and once there I 
pulled her into my arms. She laughed and moistened her lips with her pink 
pointed tongue before letting me kiss her. She tasted good and I kissed her 
again. Her mouth was so hot and alive that she might as well have had it on 
my cock as my lips. I pressed it against her as we kissed again. She was 
instantly responsive, that way I'd have given anything to have my wife be to 
my overtures. 

"We went back to the living room arm in arm, and I was content, because I 
knew it wouldn't be long before we'd be in the bedroom. We made enough noise 
to warn Nedra and Art of our approach. 

"It wasn't necessary, though. As it turned out only Nedra could have heard. 
Art was out cold, sitting up in the chair, a drunken snore distorting his 
lips. Nedra, looking composed but uncomfortable, was glancing through a 
magazine. 

"There would be no point in denying the fact that I was disappointed. But 
Harriet wasn't one to give up so easily. She motioned for us to come into 
the den, and she patted the couch for us to sit down. Then she went off and 
freshened Nedra's drink and to bring me some fresh coffee. "Damn the 
coffee," I told her. "Isn't there some way to breathe some life back into 
Art?" 

"She laughed. "I doubt it, at this point. But that doesn't mean the evening 
has to be over, does it?" She kissed me slowly on the mouth. 

"I returned the kiss, realizing she was right. Righter than she knew, 
because Nedra wouldn't mind in the least that her date passed out. I slipped 
my tongue into Harriet's sexy mouth and pulled her tightly to me. She knew 
how to kiss. 

"I didn't seem to care that Nedra was watching us with slitted cat eyes. 
Maybe it was a little hostility seeping out. Maybe I wanted her to see how 
other women acted with me. But since Harriet didn't mind at all, I began 
letting my hands roam all over her, from her luscious tits to that sweet 
little ass of hers. And all the time we kept the kiss going, and again my 
cock responded like there was an invisible string on it, yanking it to 
attention. 

"When finally we turned back to Nedra it was like looking at an entirely 
different woman. Her deep blue eyes were strangely alert and there was color 
in her usually pale cheeks. 

"Harriet sat back on the couch to finish her drink, and Nedra got up to add 
a little soda to hers. When she sat down again, it was on the other side of 
me. I felt the heat from her body as she settled especially close to me. 

"The next fifteen minutes were the strangest of my entire life. If I hadn't 
known my wife's disinterest in sex I'd have sworn she was attempting to drag 
my sexual interest away from Harriet and on to herself. Harriet obviously 
accepted that as being the case, and finally she yawned and suggested that 
the three of us get into the bed together. 

"Which is exactly what happened. I found myself between those two 
fantastically gorgeous women, all of us naked, and there wasn't enough 
either of them could do to please and excite me. Only Nedra wasn't Nedra. 
Rather, she wasn't the cool, frigid woman I'd married, the ice-maiden I'd 
tried so frequently to awaken. She was a moaning, sensual, whole woman now. 
Somehow she had changed. In my arms she came alive as never before, and I 
kissed and loved her as if we'd never made it together before. 

"Harriet wanted attention, too, and I lapped ecstatically at her lovely cunt 
while my wife sucked on my heavy cock. She made little animal sounds in her 
throat, and I ate Harriet with more feeling than I'd guessed I'd had in me. 
No one was in the least inhibited, partially because of the drinks they'd 
consumed during the evening, and partially because we were all so hot. It 
was exactly like being with two new women at the same time, and I outdid 
myself. I pressed my face to Nedra's blonde pussy and ate it wildly, sucking 
on her clit and finger-fucking her at the same time, and going crazy from 
the way she was reacting from everything I was doing to her. It was like 
some great dam had burst, and at last she was mine! I was sucking her clit 
when she came that first time, and afterwards I lapped up every precious 
drop of her juice and wanted to start eating her all over again. 

"Harriet must have thought we were crazy, the way we were so hot for each 
other. The whole swap thing was because most couples were a little bored 
with each other. But Harriet was a real trouper-though she made it plain she 
didn't understand what was going on, she settled for doing what she could to 
make it even better for us. She licked my asshole while I sixty-nined with 
my wife, and she even shoved a finger up Nedra's pretty pink asshole to 
heighten her pleasure. Then, while I finally fucked my wife, Harriet sat on 
my face so that I could eat her cunt and she could suck Nedra's tits while 
she straddled my cock. If there was anything we didn't do that night it was 
because no one thought of it. 

"Art awakened after about an hour and a half, and, though surprised to see 
the three of us in bed together, he gamely joined in, and I watched him fuck 
my wife twice until he finally fell into an authentic sleep. It roused me 
enough to fuck Harriet who was feeling a little neglected, and then all I 
had the strength for was to dress, help Nedra into her things, and drive us 
home. 

"We were too exhausted to even talk that night, but I stayed home from work 
the next day and we did much more than talk. Nedra couldn't explain what had 
happened to her the night before, but neither of us cared about the reasons. 
We were too busy enjoying ourselves. 

"Later on we talked about the possibility of going to other swinging 
parties. As it turned out we thought we might, but much later on, if ever we 
got bored with each other. 

"And that didn't look like it would be for a very long time." 

In the two years which have elapsed since this couple's experiment with 
mate-swapping, there has been no desire to repeat the experience, though 
both claim that should they feel the desire or need they would not hesitate. 

Nedra believes that the extreme stimulation of the wife-swapping concept 
fired her latent sexuality, though she doesn't recall feeling especially 
stimulated on the first occasion when she was not exposed to her husband 
actively making love to another woman. But certainly the competitive 
sexuality of the second experience played a part in urging Nedra to 
activating her erotic nature, and the result was a decisive change for the 
better in a relationship which was, otherwise, likely headed for the divorce 
court. 

 CHAPTER FIVE - Sharing the Assets . . . 

"If there's anything I've never been able to understand, it's the way some 
couples can't get together about what they want in life. I mean, there's a 
lot of people out there just trying to work you over, right? So why spend 
your life with someone like that? In this world you need a friend, baby. 

"My first marriage was like that. I was married to this bastard who was 
going nowhere fast, and, wow, he wanted me to go there first to see if it 
was safe for him to follow! There isn't a chick alive who needs that action, 
and I dumped that dude just as soon as I got hip to where we were at. 

"Like a lot of people of my generation I was a little mixed up about what I 
wanted from the world. At first I thought it was love and the simple life, 
and I was all for the jug, loaf of bread and thou stuff. I wanted to make 
love on water beds, live in lofts, and travel with a knapsack and bedroll. I 
thought life with Jack was going to be one big blast, and, for a while, it 
was. 

"I married Jack when I was eighteen, after we'd been living together a few 
months. He was tall and blond and bearded, and I was his cute little hippy 
chick with cosmo-curled little orphan Annie hair. You know the type. You see 
them all over. Only we didn't know that. We thought we were original, see. 
Only we weren't, and we also got hungry and dirty and back-achey from all 
that free living. So eventually I wanted to, you know, settle down, sort of, 
and Jack wasn't having any. 

"I'd have left him then, only we had so much fun together. In bed, mostly, 
or whatever passed for bed. Sex was nice, real nice, and we could pass hours 
and hours that way with no trouble at all. 

"The break came when this guy offered me a job working for this straight 
stockbroker, and the money sounded nice. Jack gave me a little static, but 
at the time we were staying with his brother and his wife, and we were down 
to pennies. I toned down my hairstyle, borrowed some straight clothes and 
heels, and there I was, looking at myself in the mirror as if I didn't even 
know who I was! Jack cracked up, but I didn't. I was too busy looking at a 
damn cute little brunette with big eyes, a fine little bod and a ready for 
anything smile. 

"It took me about a week to decide I didn't like supporting Jack, and 
another month to get rid of him. A year later I was a legally free woman 
with an apartment, wardrobe and life of my own. I was really grooving on my 
independence when I met Vern. He was a handsome young man working for one of 
the big brokers. Vern was obviously on his way up, and he appreciated the 
nice things in life as I was beginning to. And, best of all, under that 
straight exterior and short haircut was a genuine free spirit. Vern was 
ambitious and he was smart, and he always knew what was important and what 
was bullshit. 

"I thought we were just going to have a big sex thing at first. You know how 
it is when you meet someone who really turns you on? One glance and you 
really know everything that comes before bed is a waste of time. That's the 
way it was on our first date, and finally Vern threw down his napkin in the 
middle of the dinner we were both playing with while doing our own version 
of Tom Jones. "Balls," he muttered, grabbing the bill, "let's get out of 
here." 

"We went to his place because it was closer. Even so we were nearly into it 
in the cab, because every second we had to wait was painful. His hands were 
inside my bra and panties before we'd gone a mile, and I had my hand coiled 
around his stiff prick by the time he finished paying the driver. I didn't 
even notice what his place looked like until afterwards-we didn't bother 
with the lights. 

"It was like when you're a kid and you really want it bad, you know? My cunt 
was aching and so wet I could have taken on a dozen cocks, one after the 
other. I just wanted Vern, though, and I was glad we had all night. 

"His cock was something else. He was hung like an old maid's dream, easily a 
good eight inches, and as thick around as any man I'd ever been with. He 
made me think of Jack as some kid I'd been masturbating with all that time. 
But it wasn't just the size of him that got to me-he knew how to use that 
crowbar of his. 

"When I get hot I like a man who knows how to fuck. Oh, I love having my 
cunt eaten, and I'm also pretty good when it comes to giving a blow job. But 
it's deep, hard fucking that sends me up walls, and that's just what Vern 
gave me. He did something no one's ever done to me before. He maneuvered me 
up against the wall as soon as we got in his apartment, locked his lips and 
tongue to mine, and lifted my skirt. I helped him shove my panties out of 
the way and then I felt his pants slide to the floor. By grabbing one leg 
and hooking it around his leg he was able to get his dick into me that way, 
standing up. It was wild and crazy, something a pair of sex-starved 
teenagers might attempt, but Vern knew what he was doing. He used his strong 
body and the wall to pin me while he drilled me with his wonderful cock, and 
I thought I'd die from the sheer pleasure of it. He came quickly, as much 
urged on by the difficulty of our position as by the good feeling. He shot 
off into me just as I felt my muscles contract with my own come. 

"He picked me up and carried me to the bed. 

We threw off our clothing and fell into each other's arms, and we were ready 
to go again. He sucked my nipples while I wrapped my legs around his trunk. 
I played with his gigantic cock and began to tease it with my tongue. I 
didn't think I could get much of it in my mouth, but Vern playfully held me 
down and made me take it, and before long I was sucking him like I'd been 
practicing on Coke bottles all my life. His balls were big and sensitive, 
and I tickled and rubbed them as I mouthed his dick. Meanwhile he was moving 
me around so that he could use his long tongue on my pussy. He did it 
nicely, licking my love button while his strong fingers played in my hole. 
We had a fine time exciting each other, and finally he got up on top of me 
and really began to give me a terrific fucking. Standing up, I hadn't been 
able to take much of him inside me, but stretched out on the bed with my 
heels over Vern's shoulders I was getting my first real taste of that 
magnificent prick. I moaned as it plowed into me, yet I couldn't help 
pointing one toe at the ceiling, encouraging him to shove that whole thing 
into me. It was so big and so thick that I turned into a pool of jelly under 
him, whimpering and crying a little, not hurting but not knowing how to deal 
with the unrelenting waves of pleasure, either. It was something else! 

"Vern must have liked it from where he was, too, because he kept playing 
with my tits and groaning and slamming his dick in and out of me. At one 
point he pulled out of me and ducked down and ate my pussy for a few 
minutes, then straightened up and fed an inch or two of his prick to my 
cunt. He ran that inch in and out of me, and the short thickness of his cock 
head drove me nuts. I went crazy for him to push it all the way in. 

"Oh, Vern, damn it! Shove that thing all the way up me! Fuck me, Vern! Ooh, 
baby, you do it so good. . . . So-o-o good.. . ." 

"But he kept teasing me so I decided to give him a little of his own 
medicine. I tightened my cunt muscles and began to milk his cock with them, 
clutching the head and squeezing, then contracting and relaxing the muscles 
so that Vern felt as if a slippery little toothless mouth was nibbling on 
his prick! 

"Then it was his turn to moan. His control trip shot to hell, Vern began to 
plunge that weapon of his in and out of my cunt all the way. It was so big, 
and I was so tight, I could feel myself being pulled and pushed with each 
stroke, and my nipples got like rocks and I was coming almost without 
knowing it. When he came it was so big for him, so explosive, that I thought 
he'd rip me in half. Totally wiped out, we held on to each other as his cock 
deflated like a balloon which had been pricked. 

"It wasn't over for either of us. But we needed a little pause about then. 
So we started talking. It turned out we had as much in common in our 
feelings about life and what we wanted out of it as we were on the same 
level in bed. Vern told me his plan for making it big in the Market, and I 
knew he'd do it. He was as practical as I was about what a person had to do 
to get his ends, and he was as little up tight as I was about doing whatever 
came naturally and felt good. We carried our conversation to the bathroom 
where we had a hot, soapy bath together, and then we got too hot to talk 
anymore. 

"We were married three months later, and as proof of our lack of 
conventional hang-ups, we met a far-out couple in a bar on the last day of 
our honeymoon and ended up going to their motel with them. The wife, a 
short, chubby but cute red-head named Sylvia, loved big cocks, and somehow 
the conversation got around to that. She whipped out her husband Carl's dick 
which was damn nice, and in a playful mood, I one-upped her by unzipping 
Vern. Sylvia went ape over Vern's larger joint, and after another drink 

Sylvia began to lick and suck cn Vern. The bit got me hotter than hell, and 
when Carl asked me to do the same thing to him I agreed. 

"It was a wild night! The thrill of sucking and fucking and being 
cunt-lapped by a strange guy was magnified once by watching another couple 
do the same thing, and a second time by seeing Vern making it with another 
chick. We all ended up on the bed in a big, naked heap, and it got to the 
point where no one knew whose prick or cunt they were working over. I ended 
up eating my first pussy that night, and from the way Sylvia worked her 
tongue in and out of me, I got the idea that she was an old hand at it. I 
even found it exciting to watch Vern and Carl end up in a hot sixty-nine, 
and afterwards we all fucked our brains out. That was one honeymoon to 
remember, believe me. . . . 

"Life went on pretty much the same for the next year or so. We did the 
proper thing where it showed-went to all the parties and were the perfect 
young couple, and all the while we were living our own lives and doing what 
we wanted, and generally having a ball. Vern was getting in tight with his 
boss, Walter J. B--. We used to laugh at the conservative image we presented 
whenever old Walter and his fine looking wife would come over for dinner. If 
they only knew--- 

"But, as it turned out, they couldn't have ever been as surprised as we were 
when Walter told Vern that he and his wife would love to extend our 
socializing to a little wife-swapping. . . ." 

In a frank perusal of sexuality which goes beyond the one-to-one marital 
encounter, we must sooner or later see evidence of the individuals who 
reveal no hint of inhibition or guilt. A society which has reversed the 
pendulum swing from Victorianism to a nearly complete sexual liberation will 
eventually breed a generation of unblocked sensualists. In many ways Vern 
and Gina could be called first-generation by-products of concentrated effort 
to overcome the vast sexual prejudice of former ages. Albert Ellis contends 
that Americans are fearful of sex, to the point where we have our sexual 
cake, but we don't really eat it-or we gulp it down in such a manner as to 
bring on acute indigestion. 

Until very recently our culture was indeed at that point. We intellectually 
acknowledged that sex was to be enjoyed, was a healthy, normal outlet, and 
should be indulged in to the discretion of the individual, without guilt, 
fear or insecurity-yet we could not accept that at a deeper level, a "gut" 
level. Society had reached a plateau where sex could be freely discussed in 
mixed company and in all aspects, yet the acting out of what could be easily 
discussed would still generate the negative emotions, the fears, doubts and 
guilts. This generation, in Its do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do fashion, has, 
however, attempted to be very careful to suppress these negatives, and has 
worked overtime to refrain from passing them on to their offspring. This 
overcompensation produces a mixed and uncertain reaction. If our children do 
not participate freely we fear that we have somehow passed on our 
inhibitions and fears, and if they do, we may well experience an emotion 
akin to depression or disappointment because they, though liberated and 
"normal," didn't "choose" to forego the "acting out" part of the free sexual 
platform. It is no wonder the kewpie doll with its sexless appeal was the 
darling of a less introspective America. 

Our double-level approach to sex is so deeply ingrained that we must be 
reminded continually to reject our conditioned taboos. Because of this books 
as blunt as the best-selling The Sensuous Woman by (again a testimony to the 
abovementioned double-level approach) "J," can openly give counsel on 
whether or not to orgy, and find the need to add: 

If it turns out you love orgies, don't let guilt feelings spoil them for 
you. As an adult you have every right and responsibility to find a 
satisfactory sex life for yourself. 

"J" is directing her words to an essentially mature audience. For the most 
part those under thirty no longer need such a reminder. Like Gina and Vern, 
they are comfortable with the self concept of sexual flexibility. 

Gina enjoys sex. She doesn't bother to theorize on the moral, legal, ethical 
side of her sensual adventures, nor is she especially romantic, not even in 
an interior way. Jealousy, competitiveness and insecurity don't enter the 
picture, either, and there is no morbid dwelling on the possibility that her 
husband may react more strongly to the other woman. She has no guilt or 
self-doubts when she finds herself engaged in a homosexual act, and none 
when she watches her husband fellate, and be fellated by, another man. She 
is concerned far more with the fact that both enjoy themselves fully, to the 
extent where she acknowledges that her own excitement was increased in part 
by the knowledge that her husband was one of the couple she was watching. 

On the other hand, she is very concerned and feels the need to rationalize 
her interest in swapping with her husband's boss and his wife, but her 
concern never touches on the sexual-moral issue. Instead, in the second part 
of her narrative, Gina rationalizes because she knows her interest in the 
older couple isn't merely sexual-it is the getting-something-for-this aspect 
which puts her on the defensive. There can be no doubt that the only reason 
she needs for the sex is desire, but somewhere in the process of her 
maturation she has absorbed the purity-non-materialism mystique, and this 
confusion lends the only guilt-doubt-confusion aspect to her narrative. She 
prefaces her story of her swapping experiences with an explanation of how 
she used to believe she wanted a non-materialistic existence, and she 
explains her change of values. Yet still she refers to this other side of 
herself in various ways, such as the non-conformity aspect of herself, her 
present husband and their lives together, and through this it must become 
obvious that Gina's "freedom" or "enlightenment" is limited, though her 
limitations may reflect other cultural taboos than sex. 

Even so, it is difficult to see how the swapping habits of Gina and Vern 
will have any disastrous effects on their lives or their marriages. 

"I guess we're all snobs in one way or the other, and I'm a snob about the 
age and sex thing. I mean, who would have expected old Walter to be 
interested in more than my soup, or the slightly ass-kissy way we treated 
him when he came to our place? When Vern told me they were itching to try a 
little wife-swapping I couldn't help cracking up. Vern did, too, and for 
hours we'd think of catchy little phrases like 'sex or souffl'?', laughing 
like idiots as we'd imagine saying it straight-faced at our next dinner 
party. Then we got serious. 

"Actually," Vern began, "it might not be such a bad idea. It might give me 
the edge I need with the old bastard. He could do me a lot of good, and I 
wouldn't mind giving him reason to want to." 

"I thought about it and realized Vern was right. If I gave the old tiger an 
especially fine old time, he might be especially grateful. 

"It wouldn't be misusing him, either, not if he knew what he was getting 
into and not if the idea was his. Besides, it's the smart people in this 
world who know when to recognize an opportunity when it comes along. 

"There was nothing wrong either in wanting to get somewhere or have nice 
things, I reminded myself. Why should using sex as a means to an end be so 
terrible? While I knew what my first husband and people like him would 
think, I decided that they could go piss up a rope. They didn't pay my 
bills. 

"Anyway, we found ourselves with an invitation to the townhouse we'd always 
wanted to see, and though the invitation didn't say anything about a private 
little swap party after dinner, it was scheduled as the main event. We got 
there right on time, and I was looking my sexiest. I wanted the old bastard 
to foam at the mouth all during dinner, and from the way he looked at me 
when he greeted us, I knew he would. 

"Krista, his wife, loved my form-fitting white splurge of a dress, and she 
didn't look bad, either. Though she was at least forty, she had that ripe, 
full look of a female who has only recently come into her own. I had her 
pegged as a little rich girl who did everything that was proper and felt 
next to nothing, but then reached maybe thirty-five or so and began to 
notice just how good some things felt. Like sex, for instance. Walter, her 
husband, was a different story. He couldn't have been much over fifty, but 
he was getting old, one of the busy business types who were old at forty. 

Now that he had proved himself to the world and himself by boosting the 
family fortune another notch, he was ready to make up for some of the fun 
he'd missed. He'd been smart enough to marry a younger woman who could only 
improve with age, but the pair of them looked as if they'd exhausted all the 
pleasure they found in each other. They heard about all the swinging going 
on and wanted a little, especially since it was going on among their group. 
I kind of figured that, for the first time, they wanted a younger couple who 
wouldn't be in a position to put them down if they were a little awkward or 
maybe didn't hold it together. 

"Whatever their trip was, I was all ready for whatever they were up for. I 
liked the house and the old man didn't look half bad to me, and I knew Vern 
would enjoy making it with Krista. I even sort of hoped we could all make it 
together, like with that couple on our honeymoon, but I didn't kid myself 
into thinking there was much chance for that. I also knew we'd have to be 
the ones to start things happening. 

"I got it going first. After dinner I sat next to Walter and hung on his 
every word, taking care to see to it that we were close enough for him to 
smell my perfume and feel the pressure of my hip and thigh. He couldn't take 
his eyes off me. On the other side of the room Vern was gazing into Krista's 
eyes over a cocktail glass. 

"Before long I got the feeling we could go on like that all night long, like 
some old time drawing room comedy skit. So I took Walter's hand and 
discreetly suggested we go somewhere. "I'd love to see your . . . house." 

"They watched us go, and we headed directly for a bedroom. It was up a short 
flight of stairs, and all the way up Walter kept touching my ass and 
commenting on my legs and bumping into me as I slowly climbed, wriggling my 
butt and giving him every reason to get horny. When I got to the top step he 
surprised me by reaching under my dress and giving my pussy a quick rub. 
That turned me on so much I stopped short and spread my legs a little. "Um, 
that feels good, Walter. Heavenly. . . ." 

"Encouraged, he slipped his short, blunt finger into the crotch Of my 
panties and ran it into my cunt all the way. I squirmed on it a little, and 
we were both breathing hard and ready to hit the bedroom. 

"Once there Walter cooled it a little. Face to face with me he seemed to 
realize that he actually was with another female, not just indulging in a 
little fantasy. He didn't seem to know what to do, even though he'd had his 
finger all the way into me minutes before, and I was obviously ready for 
anything. 

"I decided to start him off. "That felt so good, what you did to me in the 
hall. So sexy, with me with all these clothes on. . . .' I sat down in the 
lovely old-fashioned canopy bed. Sighing, I let my body fall back and relax, 
and I closed my eyes. "Do it again, will you? Just slip your finger into me, 
just like you did before. . . ." 

"His hand trembled on my leg as he sat down next to me. Without a word he 
reached under the dress and touched my pussy. The material of my panties 
gave easily as he groped for my hole, and I began moaning and moving against 
that finger. "You don't know how good that feels, Walter. . . . Ooh, and 
when you rub my clit like that. . . ." 

"That did it for him. The old bastard got so hot I thought he'd have a 
stroke. He threw my dress back and pulled off my panties, and the next thing 
I knew he was eating my pussy for all he was worth, sucking and snorting 
like an animal, and for a minute there I was afraid he really was going to 
take a bite of it. He did it kind of like he thought it was something of a 
dirty or nasty act, like he was doing it because he had to, he was so hot, 
and the idea that he had about it made it dirty. You know what I mean? I'd 
been sucked by most of the men I've ever gone to bed with, and it's always 
been fine, but old Walter was sucking and lapping like the original old man, 
and suddenly I caught his mood and was perversely digging it. It was like I 
was a whore who was playing her customer's game for him, but I dug it 
because he was so into it. I pushed him away and helped seat him on the bed. 
Then, allowing my dress to remain up around my waist, I got on my knees and 
opened his fly. I knew his eyes were eating up my naked ass as I began to 
suck his cock, but he. didn't touch me. He just moaned and went crazy from 
my cock sucking, and when he was really into it I got up, turned around, got 
on top of him in a sixty-nine position so that he could lick my pussy while 
I ate his dick. 

"I was so caught up in the mood he'd set that I wasn't paying attention to 
the signals his body was putting out. He came a second after he began 
lapping at my cunt, and I had a mouthful of stuff before I was nearly ready 
for it. 

"He really surprised me, though. Instead of shrinking down to nothing and 
losing interest, that old fucker held his erection! His prick, which wasn't 
too big or anything spectacular, managed to keep its hard! I gave it a 
little suck after I'd swallowed his come, and he pulled away because he was 
so sensitive, yet he was as stiff as a poker. 

"We got naked then, and Walter raved on and on about my body and especially 
my cunt. He kissed it and fondled my tits, and then he took off the rest of 
his clothing and asked me to play with his dick while I sucked and licked 
his balls. 

"He was pretty tight for a man of his age, and I had a great time lapping at 
his hanging balls, especially with that prick of his as stiff as ever. I had 
much more respect for the old guy by then, and when he asked me if I'd come 
over to the chair and sit on his lap, I was happy to comply. I straddled 
him, face to face, and his dick felt nice sliding into my juicy hole. I was 
damn hot after all that fooling around, and nothing beats a good fuck. 

"I liked fucking that way, anyway, and I mostly liked having so much control 
of our movements. I now knew how quickly and without warning he could come, 
so I made sure I came as fast as possible. It was a nice, hard orgasm, and 
after I calmed down I didn't mind so much that he came two strokes later. I 
was sorry, though, to feel him finally shrivel up inside me. 

"He smoked a cigar while I got on my knees and busied myself with licking 
and kissing his tired old prick. I'm pretty good at getting a guy hard with 
my mouth, especially after he's just fucked his brains out. But Walter was 
finally showing his age. I sucked him with everything I had, but he didn't 
even swell a little. I took each of his balls into my mouth and sucked them, 
I ran my tongue over his tiny nipples, and finally I even tickled his 
asshole with my fingertip while I sucked him. I told him how much I loved 
his cock, and how good it had felt, but I still couldn't get anywhere. He 
liked it all, though, and I began to think of how nice it would be to get 
the four of us together for a little orgy fun. I'd told Vern ahead of time 
to let me feel Walter out about getting together. 

"You know, Walter, the hottest I ever got in my entire life was once when I 
watched Vern make love to another girl. It's so sexy to watch someone you 
love be happy that way. So sexy," I told him between nibbles on his cock. 

"Wouldn't you like to see Krista with another man? I mean, if you knew they 
were together and all?" " 

"He hesitated, then admitted it would probably be stimulating. From that 
point on it was like eating pie. He had half a hard on as we walked naked 
through the hall way to another bedroom. We pushed open the door and stepped 
inside. 

"Vern was on his back on the bed, and Krista was sitting right on his face. 
Her back was to us and she was bouncing around on his mouth and tongue like 
crazy. Vern's huge dick was standing up, jabbing at the air, and his hands 
were running up and down her smooth back and pretty pink ass. 

"Walter took my hand and put it on his cock, and let me tell you, that thing 
was as hard as a bar of steel. Pleased, I walked us over to the bed and 
reached out and shoved one finger right in Krista's light haired cunt. It 
was just sticking out, and I knew how good it felt to ride a finger when you 
have a tongue inside you. She was soft and slimy and hot up there, and her 
cunt muscles grabbed at my finger and sucked at it like a hungry baby. She 
was so slippery down there and so relaxed that I knew she'd already had 
Vern's wonderful cock up her at least once. 

"Walter went crazy when he saw me finger-fuck his old lady. He spread my 
legs and started licking me from the rear, and his big tongue went all the 
way from my clit to my asshole. By then Vern and Krista were watching us 
with eager expressions, and Krista, after a moment's shocked hesitation, got 
busy moving on my finger. 

"Vern pulled away and suggested Krista sit on my face a while, and from the 
way Walter sucked my hard clit when he heard that, I knew I'd make a few 
points there all the way around. Besides, I had eyes for Krista's sweet twat 
the moment I walked into the room and saw it. I got onto the bed, taking 
Vern's place, and Krista settled majestically over my face. She tasted of 
come and perfume, and I licked her completely, using my hands to open her up 
all-the way. It was wild! My doing it to her made her come right away, and 
the next thing I knew Walter, with Vern's help, had lifted my hips and was 
pushing into my asshole with his bone. I squirmed a little since they hadn't 
bothered to grease his dick and my ass was pretty dry, but he managed to 
work it into me, and I came as soon as he got it all the way inside. I was 
ecstatic, my face buried in pussy, a cock up my asshole, and then the cunt I 
was licking began to be fucked by Vern's tool, and the balls were swinging 
against my jaw. I came again almost immediately. 

"We began to get together, the four of us, regularly after that. . . ." 

The intensified stimulation of the swapping, the voyeurism, the 
exhibitionism and the varied erotic acts effectively added new and 
unquestionable depths to the sexual lives of Vern and his wife as well as 
Walter and Krista. The older couple, married over twenty years, had reached 
a point where their sexual interest had climbed while their ability to 
stimulate each other had waned from sheer repetition. With the addition of 
another couple, it is possible that their own ability to excite each other 
privately will rapidly accelerate. They run little risk of upsetting their 
marriage, as there is practically no chance of a romantic attachment to form 
when sex is conducted in the orgy form preferred by these couples. 
Encouraged by these sessions, Walter found his ability to last in the sexual 
act increased, and with it Krista was able to find more pleasure. 

For Gina and Vern, swapping offers no new threat to the relationship at all, 
from an emotional or sexual standpoint. Until it loses its ability to 
stimulate the young couple beyond ordinary marital sex (should such a time 
ever come), it is likely that Vern and Gina will remain permanent swingers. 
It is improbable they will ever experience the boredom of hidden desire 
which undermines many marriages, since they never risk connubial ennui nor 
repression. But it should be stressed that Gina and Vern are products of an 
unusual age, and they suffer few of the conscience pangs rampant in the rest 
of society. 

 CONCLUSION 

In the five case histories given, one factor above all others emerges and 
must be considered when examining the subject of swapping-each person 
carries into the act his own needs and expectations. 

We are, in many respects, a pampered and weary society. Even our poor 
generally live with more excitement and stimulation in a month than an 
individual may experience in a year in other societies. The select affluent 
exist in an environment constantly pandering to their appetites for variety. 
Economics alone coax them to cast off the old and pursue the new, and when 
an item loses its novelty it becomes a candidate for the garbage heap. 

When confronted by a situation which has lost its novelty appeal but cannot 
be shrugged off so thoughtlessly, like the infinitely complex institution 
called marriage, the affluent are faced with a dilemma. Men who control such 
power structures as Wall Street are perfectly free to indulge all 
recreational tastes, and, in one way, this includes their sexual appetite. 
Prostitution has been called the oldest profession, and the affluent have 
long been utilizing this uncomplicated means for sexual stimulation. But 
this one-sided and regulated sexuality brings the side effects of guilt, 
risk and dissatisfaction, since the prostitute's response is insincere, and 
therefore limited. 

Mate swapping comes closer toward providing true variety and stimulation 
than any form of prostitution, and it offers the added touch of something 
being able to restore life to a withering union. "J" comments on this factor 
in The Sensuous Woman: 

The people who attend sex parties are there not because of romantic hungers 
but because their sexual drives need revitalization. New sexual partners 
give these people the sensual thrills and gratification they long for. 
Husbands and wives say orgies also have a salutary effect on day-to-day sex, 
as the excitement of an orgy carried over into regular lovemaking for 
several days or weeks afterward. 

Certainly most people enter into swapping with the expectation that their 
marriage will not only remain intact, but that it will indeed be 
revitalized. They want to maintain the marriage. If they did not, they 
couldn't find a sexual situation where they participate as mates appealing. 
Entering a swapping relationship, they clearly announce that they are 
anticipating sexual stimulation, but not new non-sexual partnership. They 
make this announcement by arriving as a pair, and, in spite of the sex play, 
withdrawing as a pair. The fact that both husband and wife are engaging in 
this activity together diminishes the chance of guilt and insecurity 
afterwards, and since the hope ideally, is to strengthen the marital bonds 
rather than weaken them, by providing excitement and novelty without going 
completely separate ways, adultery in the form of mate-swapping is sometimes 
regarded as a pro-marriage activity in potential. 

However, mainly because it is bred into this society to think of 
unconventional sex as deviant sex, the mere fact of engaging in swapping 
sometimes produces its own doubts and fears. For most of the couples in this 
study there is a thread of relief when the swapping is discontinued, or a 
definite attempt to explain the pressures which pressed the couples into 
participation. Only in one of the five cases were both partners eager and 
natural about their involvement, and in that case the forms of sex indulged 
in were also enjoyed without reservation in spite of their diversity. In the 
case of Hank and Nedra the swapping prompted a sexual response in Nedra 
which resulted in the couple happily abandoning swapping in preference of 
marital sex. Adele, though reacting powerfully to the orgiastic swapping 
parties, is pushed into her participation by her lover, Reed. Julie uses it 
to titillate her lover Don. April and Charlotte swap mates in an effort to 
be as fascinating as the stock market and their husbands' exciting 
recreational toys. In each of these cases the stimuli was the hope of 
achieving a height of excitation unavailable to themselves by their own 
abilities. And, in four out of these five cases, in one way or another, the 
participant believed herself or himself to be engaged in a deviant, even 
perverse act, which often served to act as a still greater stimulant. Dr. 
Berne argues the point: 

Since human beings are experimenters at heart, it should be understood that 
mere experimenting with unusual sexual activities is not perversion. Only 
when an unusual activity is consistently preferred to the conventional ones 
should it be called a perversion. 

Mate swapping, as it is practiced by the bored and somewhat jaded affluent 
in our society, cannot be called a perversion, and while it is a deviant 
form of sex, its very deviance is contrived by the limitations of marriage, 
a union requiring a creature ordinarily far more monogamous than man. Dr. F. 
A. Beach and Dr. C. S. Ford, in Patterns of Sexual Behavior, emphasize this 
point: 

An environment which is too interfering or restrictive with regard to sexual 
practice may be conducive to the development of sexual deviation. 

Add to the marital environment in general the complication of affluence; 
surely the attraction and availability for sexual recreation in the form of 
swapping is intensified. It is ironic that when one considers the vast 
opportunity freedom from economic slavery affords the individual, we find it 
so often only prompting dissatisfaction and boredom. Galbraith comments 
that: 

In recent times no problem has been more puzzling to thoughtful people than 
why . . . we make such poor use of our affluence. 

But if swapping among the affluent seems a narrow pastime when larger 
stimulation might be found in non-sexual ventures, that might well be a 
lesser point than the one the French moralist Francois, Due de la 
Rochefoucauld, raises: 

It is much easier to suppress a first desire than to satisfy those that 
follow. 

For the real danger in swapping might not be the immediate effects of 
overcoming boredom, but the possibility of creating a larger boredom later 
on. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Beach, Frank A., and Ford, Clellan S. Patterns of Social Behavior. New York: 
Paperback 

Library, 1970. Berne, Eric. A Layman's Guide to Psychiatry and 

Psychoanalysis. New York: Simon and 

Schuster, 1957. De Beauvoir, Simone. The Second Sex. New York: 

Alfred A. Knopf, 1953. 

Ellis, Albert. Sex Without Guilt. New York: Lyle Stuart, 1958. 

Ellis, Havelock. Psychology of Sex. New York: Mentor Books, n.d. 

Fielding, William J. Strange Customs of Courtship and Marriage. New York: 
Permabooks, 1949. 

Friedan, Betty. The Feminine Mystique. New 

York: Dell Books, 1963. Galbraith, John Kenneth. The Affluent Society. 

New York: Mentor Books, 1958. Hunt, Morton M. The Natural History of Love. 

New York: Grove Press, 1959. "J". The Sensuous Woman. New York: Lyle 

Stuart, 1969. Reik, Theodor. Of Love and Lust. New York: 

Farrar, Straus and Company, 1949. 

Love To Swap ....(82k)by Peter Villers
