The Timid Swingers
by Frank Malloy 


Chapter One 

It was a tranquil midsummer in Maple Grove, the trees still full with 
leaves, the neatly kept lawns a lush, rich green, and the weather moderately 
warm without the oppressive humidity that had characterized past summers. 

At eight in the morning Myra Bates had just finished serving her husband 
coffee and was now clearing away the breakfast dishes. Lee Bates drank the 
coffee down hurriedly and adjusted his blue and gold striped tie, and after 
he had set the empty cup back on the saucer he slipped into his suit. 

"I better get moving," he said, glancing at his watch. "The plane leaves at 
nine." 

"Can't I drive you to the airport - at least this once?" she offered. 

"No, that's okay. I want to have the car there in the lot when I get back." 

"How long do you think it'll be this time? A week?" 

"A week, maybe longer, but I'll let you know as soon as I'm sure myself." 

Stacking the dishes in the sink, Myra wiped her hands off on a dish towel 
and removed her apron. She followed Lee into the living room, where he 
picked up his attache case and headed immediately to the front door. 

"Hey, wait a minute!" she called after him. "You forgot something." 

"What?" 

"I mean this," she said, stepping up to him and throwing her arms around his 
neck. Her dark, lustruous hair rustled as she stood on tiptoes and gave him 
a soft wet kiss - smack on the lips. It didn't matter that he kissed her 
back in a very precise business-like fashion, because that's the way he was, 
but while she loved him for it, this attitude had created some problems for 
the two of them in the past. 

Tli call you tonight, honey," he said as they disengaged, and he gave her a 
friendly pat on the rear. Then he turned and briskly headed for the garage. 

Myra followed him to the front walk, and waved goodbye as he pulled the car 
out of the drive and guided it onto the street. When it had finally 
disappeared around a bend, she turned and glanced over at her next door 
neighbor's yard, surprised to see that young Bob Wylie was back in town, 
bent over his lawnmower as though he were anxious to catch up on his 
neglected household chores. 

He was much younger than she - in his mid-twenties - broad shouldered and 
athletically built with a thick shock of sandy blond hair over his forehead. 
He had quite a brain too, Myra had learned from his wife, Ann. He was 
apparently some sort of geologist engineer employed by one of the big oil 
companies, and he'd just spent over a month on the North Slope of Alaska, 
supervising a difficult drilling operation. It seemed that husbands were 
always off somewhere or other, Myra mused to herself as she watched her 
handsome neighbor tinker. Wives were left alone to fend for themselves, and 
when they did fend for themselves and their husbands found out about it, the 
men always seemed to be shocked. But that was life, Myra thought. 

"Maybe you can do our lawn when you're finished!" she called out jokingly to 
him and headed in his direction for a chat. 

Straightening up, he grinned broadly and greeted her. 

"Sure, why not. It's a power mower and I need the exercise anyway." 

"I would think you got plenty of exercise. You look like you're in pretty 
good shape." 

She could see him trying unsuccessfully to suppress a slight blush, and she 
felt charmed at his youthful awkwardness. He may be a hotshot engineer, she 
thought, but he's still a young man, and it shows all over. She was standing 
only a few feet away from him now, her hand on the handle of the power 
mower. 

"I feel a little bit embarrassed," he said. "We're neighbors and I feel like 
we should know each other. But I've been away so damn much. Ann's told me a 
lot about you, though." 

"Oh?" Myra said, arching her eyebrows. The thought of the neighborhood 
swapping club ran fleetingly through her mind, but of course innocent young 
Ann Wylie would never mention anything like that to her husband, even though 
she knew about it and knew what went on. Or would she? "Well, I hope she 
didn't say anything bad." 

"Not at all," Bob Wylie laughed. "She said you'd been very nice to her while 
I was away this last time. Heck, I know she really needed company, and I'm 
glad you helped out." 

"Well, that was the least I could do. Afte.' all, we women are alone so 
much. My husband travels a good deal too. He's a plant design consultant." 

Myra tried to tame the cutting edge of her voice when she said this but was 
afraid she did not succeed completely. After all, there was still a residue 
of bitter feeling even though after all these years she and Lee had come to 
an understanding and allowed each other a reasonable amount of freedom. Ann 
Wylie, of course, while she felt lonely, didn't yet see the need for freedom 
and independence. She was convinced that her husband never touched another 
woman while away on business trips. 

Thus, she couldn't possibly understand the rational behind the neighborhood 
swap club, which Myra had so earnestly been trying to explain to her in the 
hopes that she would join. Still, Myra couldn't help thinking that Ann might 
have mentioned what had been told her, and she had to be a bit careful now 
in dealing with Bob. Did he know about the club? Did he know that she - Myra 
- was a long-standing member and had approached his young wife about 
joining? 

But no, he seemed to be completely unaware. 

"It's a damn shame I have to go away so much. I feel terrible leaving her 
alone all the time. But then, that's the way it goes. That's my job." 

"Well, don't you worry about it," Myra laughed easily. "I'll bet you two 
really make up for your absence when you get back home again." 

Bob grinned. 

"You can count on that. Look, what do you say I do your lawn first? It's no 
trouble." 

"Oh, really, you don't have to. I can just as easily hire one of the young 
boys in the neighborhood." 

Myra was both charmed and amused by Bob Wylie as he made this offer; she 
knew perfectly well why he'd made it. She could tell what his awkwardness, 
his fleeting glances into her dark eyes meant. He was just as attracted to 
her as she was to him, and the very thought excited her no end. She liked 
the idea of being able to arouse the virile young husband of a pretty blonde 
thing like Ann Wylie. It made her feel young again, as though she were still 
a college coed. 

"Let's go," he said. "I'll take care of your lawn in ten minutes." 

"Wonderful!" Myra said enthusiastically. "I'll fix us a couple of cool 
drinks right now. I'm sure you'll be able to use one when you finish." 

Happily, the older woman strode across the lawn and into her house as her 
neighbor wheeled the lawn mower over and pulled the rip cord. 

She could barely suppress the excitement running through her belly as she 
set about fixing two Bloody Marys, all the while listening to the smooth 
putt-putt of the lawn mower outside. Glancing out the front window, she 
could see that Bob had removed his shirt, and a light film of sweat had 
formed on his powerful muscles. God, he was handsome. She just hoped he 
wasn't as uptight as his young wife was, for she didn't think she could 
stand that. . . 

The drinks had been ready for several minutes by the time the sound of the 
lawn mower had died down and Bob walked inside the front door. 

"Well, I'll tell ya." he laughed. "After Alaska, I don't know what sun is 
like. I'm sweating more than I thought I'd be." 

"This will cool you off," Myra said, immediately handing him a glass. Her 
eyes wandered to his chest as she handed it to him. His torso was still 
bare, and his shirt was slung over his shoulder. He took a deep draft and 
then shook his head side to side. 

"Wow, this is powerful!" 

To the calculating brunette's dismay, he had drank half the glass already 
and was. still standing up. 

"They must have taught you something in Alaska," she remarked. 

"I'll tell you one thing, they don't drink Bloody Marys up there. Just beer 
and whiskey. And sometimes both of them together." 

When he had finished the drink, he handed her the glass and gave her an 
innocent smile. She could see he was getting ready to leave, but there was 
no way she could stop him . ... not now at any rate. There would be plenty 
of time in the future. She just hoped he wouldn't take off on another trip 
until she'd had a chance to set her trap for him. 

"Come back again sometime," Myra said, showing him to the door. "And not 
just to mow the lawn." She gave him a coy little smile, which she could see 
made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but she didn't care. He was one hell 
of a man all right, and he would make a great addition to the neighborhood 
club. 

Immediately after she shut the front door behind him, Myra began to feel 
lonely again. True, there would be enough men to occupy her at the next club 
meeting, but in truth she wanted someone new, someone special like this 
innocent young man whose enthusiasm would be at enough of a peak to give her 
real satisfaction. She didn't feel in the least guilty about what her 
husband would think, even though he knew nothing of the club. Lee had been 
traveling for his company for years, and Myra was sure that he had gone to 
bed with innumerable women in that time. They had agreed that it was only 
fair for her to be allowed to do something similar, and she had no regrets 
about it at all. They just never discussed their extracurricular activities, 
that was all. 

As she retreated to the living room, her thoughts turned again to young Bob 
Wylie and what a great bed partner he would be with a little experience. It 
was obvious that he was still something of a virgin even though he'd been 
married for over a year. It was obvious from his awkwardness and the way he 
had failed to take her up on her tacit invitation only moments ago. 

She'd been with a young man like him at a swap session only a few weeks ago. 
He too had been inexperienced, but he'd made up for it with his enthusiasm, 
and this was the possibility that attracted Myra to young Bob Wylie. She 
felt a jolt of stimulated sensation up between her legs as she recalled that 
lustful night, and she squirmed around on the sofa to soothe the sudden 
craving in her pussy. What was that other man's name, she wondered. No 
matter how hard she tried she couldn't think of it, but still she could 
remember how his eyes had feasted on her naked body as she spread herself 
out on the bed for him, feeling desire rippling hotly through her belly. 

He had hovered over her, his stiff young cock jutting out from between his 
legs, trembling with excitement as he'd waited for her to call him down on 
the mattress. As she lay back and spread her legs apart, she could see the 
way his inexperienced penis throbbed and pulsed in its eagerness to be 
satisfied. She knew she was torturing him, but she loved every moment of it. 
She knew he would give her what her body and soul desired: a passionate 
fucking! 

"God, do I want it like that again," Myra murmured, her mind flashing back 
on the incident. But it would never be the same. That young man from a week 
ago had already experienced the joys of the club ... he was jaded now, no 
longer fresh and innocent and enthusiastic. 

It was Bob she wanted now, young Bob Wylie who had so innocently volunteered 
to mow her lawn after her husband had left. It was impossible for her to 
shake him free of her mind. Leaning her head back against the arm of the 
couch, she gritted her teeth tightly and felt hot sparks of arousal charge 
through her loins. 

No longer could she fight the powerful urge to satisfy herself, and she 
lifted the hem of her dress, slipping her panty hose down off her legs. In 
her mind she pictured the exciting bulge in the front of Bob Wylie's pants, 
his strong hairless chest. . . she could see him standing over her as she 
lay there naked, her legs invitingly spread apart, urging him on. It was too 
much for her . . . she couldn't resist it. 

Crossing her arms over her softly mounded breasts, she slipped her dress off 
over her head, and removed her skimpy black bikini panties until she was 
sitting on her living room couch in broad daylight stark naked. She moved 
her red-tipped fingers up to her full voluptuous breasts and cupped them 
gently in her palms, fondling her stiffening nipples between the thumb and 
forefinger of each hand. 

Groaning, she turned over on her belly, shoving her searing pussy down 
against the yielding pillows of the sofa, wishing this would somehow 
extinguish the raging fire in her loins. But it was not enough, and she 
found her hands gliding down under her aching belly until her fingers 
pierced the dark-curling triangle of her pubic hair. God, how she wanted him 
. . . but not today. It was impossible today. She alone would have to 
satisfy herself now. 

Her legs scissoring apart as she lay face-down, her fingers pressed hard 
against her moistly seeping cuntal slit. She could feel the soft little hole 
pulsing needfully against her fingertips, and she drew her narrow pussy lips 
farther apart to expose the steaming flesh within to the cool rough material 
covering the couch cushion. With a deep moan, she sank her middle finger 
slowly up into the wet hungry mouth of her vagina, holding her breath, her 
body shuddering slightly in the hot summer air. God, it felt good ... if 
only it were a man's thick hard cock instead of her slender finger, it would 
be so much better. 

The furnace of sensuality inside her was roaring now, demanding more to 
satisfy its obscene hunger. Myra slipped in another finger to appease the 
god of her lust, moving all the way up on the couch in order to draw her 
knees to a kneeling position, her naked white buttocks waving lewdly in the 
air for the whole neighborhood to see if they cared to glance in the picture 
window. 

Oh Jesus, how she wanted a stiffly throbbing penis inside that burning pussy 
of hers. The events of the last swap session were still running through her 
mind ... the young man's hotly jerking cock as it rammed in rhythm up inside 
her heaving belly, she writhing and screaming beneath it. God, how good that 
had felt. Why, why couldn't she have it now? Why did she have to wait? 

She could remember the guy groaning and thrusting his hips like a wild 
animal between her legs, their bellies slapping nakedly together with loud 
lewd thuds. The maddening stimulation of that memory urged the 
finger-fucking brunette to greater and greater heights of self-inflicted 
passion, and now she could see herself being screwed by two and three men 
all at once. All she wanted now was cock, any cock she could find! 

Desperately she jammed her fingers into the hotly moistened slit of her 
cunt, her hips and buttocks undulating against the sofa pillows as she 
worked herself into a frenzy. Her outstretched fingers pressed deeper and 
deeper inside her open cunt as her buttocks undulated in an ever increasing 
tempo. She gasped as she pulled her fingers out, teasing herself, and then 
as she rammed them deep inside again she mewled with uncontrollable delight. 
Her stiff-nippled breasts dug into the pillows beneath her and she rubbed 
them back and forth like a wild animal desperate for satisfaction. Electric 
shocks of lust raced unchecked through every nerve, her body trembled and 
twitched, and she shuddered in the unfathomable ecstasy of her desire. 

The picture in her mind changed now. It was Bob Wylie who was fucking her, 
driving his young virile penis up inside her tightly clasping cunt as she 
begged and screamed for more. She could see everything clearly: her hips 
bucking up and down, her belly slamming against his, her lips bared back 
over her teeth as obscene mewls and pleas poured from her heaving chest. 
God, how she wanted him, how she wanted his cock! She had to get it, and it 
had to be soon. There was nothing that could stop her, nothing in the world. 

"Fuck, damn you! Fuck!" she could hear him screaming. 

"Yessss, yesssss!" she hissed back through clenched teeth in her vivid 
daydream. 

"Harder, harder!" he wailed, driving her on, and she responded, her legs 
wrapped tight around his back, her bare heels digging into the crevice of 
his buttocks. It was ecstasy! But it was only a dream, and now she drove her 
fingers deeper and faster inside her hungering pussy, she wanted it to come 
true. She could almost see the pressure building up inside Bob Wylie's hairy 
balls. She could see then growing fatter and fatter, swelling with the hot 
fiery sperm which any second he would shoot. 

"Aaaaah, fuck! Fuck you bitch!" he screamed down at her. She saw his lips 
bared back over his teeth, his face contorted in a grimace of raw lust as 
she strained to give him everything she had, her legs clasping tighter and 
tighter around his waist. All of a sudden she could feel his cock stiffening 
and twitching inside her, the blunt bloated tip quivering as it let loose a 
hot flood of lava-like cum that pulsed and swirled inside her straining 
pussy. Mewling and groaning, she writhed in orgasmic spasms beneath him. 

"D-don't stop! More! More!" she pleaded mindlessly, her cunt lips twitching 
frenziedly around his spending cock. God, how she wanted it, how she wanted 
every last drop of his cum inside her cavernous belly. She wanted him to 
keep going for hours, to fill her to the bursting point until his sperm shot 
overflowed down her thighs like water from a fast-flowing fountain. 

"Oh Jesus! Jesus! I want more cock!" she screamed. To her surprise, Myra 
found she was wailing this aloud and exciting herself beyond the point of no 
return even though it was all a mere daydream. Her ass wiggled wildly in the 
air, and now she was plunging the forefingers of both hands deep inside her 
unpeaked pussy, making heavy, sucking, sluicing noises as they slithered in 
and out. She fingered herself harder and faster, sinking the lust-wet 
fingers all the way in up to the palms of her hands. 

Her attractive mature face was twisted with ignoble passion, and her cheeks 
flushed burning red as she felt herself beginning to cum, the hot liquid of 
her loins boiling up to the point of explosion. She clung hard to the last 
remnants of her sanity, trying desperately to control herself, to tease 
herself for just another short second, but it was too late. She was going to 
cum now! Her hot female secretions poured forth, gushing viscously around 
her fingers, jetting out from her CTintal mouth and running down the insides 
of her thighs as she rocked face-down on the couch. 

"AAAAAAAGHHHHH!" she chanted, her voice reverberating in the empty living 
room. 

As she jerked and twitched, the pressure inside her belly swelled and 
diminished, and finally with a sigh she sagged down on the sofa. But she 
still wanted more - the real thing, a live male cock, jumping and dancing 
and twitching between her legs. God, how she needed that! She needed it more 
than anything in the world. She was sighing and gasping now, her body limp 
and spent, but still she couldn't bring herself to withdraw her fingers from 
the lust-flooded depths of her pussy. They felt so good there in that liquid 
warmth, so fine and comfortable . . . 

At last after what seemed an eternity, she drew them away and rolled over on 
her back, her legs splaying out weakly to the sides. It was a moment until 
reality came back to her once again. A brief flurry of anger hit her for 
what she'd been forced to do, but she knew now what had to happen next ... 
she had to get Bob Wylie in bed with her at all costs, even if it meant 
hurting his wife, Ann. That naive young housewife had to learn the facts of 
life sooner or later - even if she had to learn them in a brutal manner. Her 
husband was no innocent young thing. He was a strapping young stud with a 
big thick cock and a fine pair of balls, and Myra wanted to test out his 
equipment. 

Rising from the couch, she slipped her clothes on once again and began 
laughing madly to herself. God, she had really gotten carried away with her 
fantasies this time . . . but it was very possible that soon enough her 
fantasy would become reality, and Bob Wylie would be screwing her in just 
the way she imagined! 

Chapter Two 

Ann Wylie stepped in front of her bathroom mirror and gazed into it 
contentedly, pleased with what she saw there. The close-cropped blonde hair 
that made a soft frame for her face, the sparkling blue eyes, the round 
white high-set breasts. She was an attractive woman, she tried to tell 
herself, and yet she usually didn't feel that way. Often, she still felt as 
though she were an awkward teenage girl trying to pretty herself up for a 
date. 

Not that she really was awkward now. It was just that her husband Bob was 
home so infrequently, that his reappearance had become a special event. She 
had to pretty herself up as much as possible for him, and she enjoyed-doing 
it. 

He'd been especially attentive to her last night, and that made her feel 
good. When they crawled into bed together, he had wooed and caressed her as 
gently as though it were the first day of their marriage. Later they made 
love without enduring the heartbreaking failure that they'd both come to 
expect in bed. In the end, though, it had been the same as always. Bob had 
grown so stiff and hard inside her, and she had tried to pretend that she 
was really enjoying it, but it hurt! God, how it had hurt! She didn't see 
how she could ever learn to enjoy sex when there was so much pain involved. 
They'd been married six months now, and still she hadn't gotten over it. 
Bob's penis was so big and thick, she didn't know how she could ever take it 
inside her and like it, and yet she had to pretend, pretend she was enjoying 
every moment of it, because that was what men wanted. Her mother had told 
her that, and her mother had certainly been married a long time. 

It was much better when it was all over, for then he had turned to her on 
the bed and tenderly kissed her neck and cheeks, stroking his fingers 
through her soft blonde hair. It felt so warm and comfortable then, and 
there was nothing to worry about. 

She knew he had been somewhat disappointed at the end and had sensed somehow 
that she was pretending, but she wanted to make up for it this morning, and 
taking her lipstick and makeup, she began prettying herself. Pouting out her 
lushly senusous lips, she applied the faint lip gloss then the mascara and 
the makeup, thinking about the new dress she'd put on next. 

That was just right, she decided. Men always pretended to like women when 
they weren't wearing makeup, but they were lying. Women were obligated to 
put on makeup so that their husbands wouldn't notice it, and so that they 
would look attractive anyway. Well, she must have had something, Ann 
thought. Otherwise, she couldn't have snagged Bob in college when he was one 
of the varsity football players, when all the other girls were chasing madly 
after him. 

The way she'd done it, of course, was by not showing that she was madly in 
love with him the way the others did. She played calm and cool, and made him 
chase her, rather than the reverse. True, she had been in love with him, but 
at the same time she had always been scared of having sex with a man. This 
was what made it easier for her to play hard to get. And everything had 
worked out all right. When they were married. Bob was both surprised and 
pleased to find out she was a virgin. 

That is for the first few days, but as their honeymoon in the Virgin Islands 
progressed, she found him making more and more demands on her in bed. He 
wanted her to do things that she had only heard of by word of mouth from 
other girls in her high school class. Things like sucking his cock, doing 
what they called "a blow job" 

She was horrified when Bob first suggested this, but then after she had 
talked to her mother she learned that all men desired things of this sort, 
but that "nice" girls couldn't do fhings like that even if they were 
married. She felt relieved on hearing her mother's advice, both for her own 
sake and for Bob's. At least she knew that her husband wasn't a pervert. It 
was just that he had let his imagination run away with him on their 
honeymoon. 

When they'd moved to Maple Grove, their life had settled down. Bob didn't 
seem so demanding any longer ... he was always busy with his work and taking 
trips to foreign parts or to remote corners of the United States. She had to 
admit that she missed him while he was gone, but at the same time, it was 
sort of a relief not to have the sexual pressure hanging over her. She was 
always pleased to see him return, though, and she prepared big delicious 
meals for the day he stepped off the plane. 

While she knew her husband was a hard-driving man who was completely wrapped 
up in his job, she also wished that he would be home alone with her more so 
that they could talk about things - not just make love, but talk about 
things that were bothering each of them. 

Well, the point was, he was home now, and she was going to do her best to 
please him today. Though she didn't want to excite him so much that he would 
make her do horrible things, she was nonetheless aware that her body was one 
of her best assets. Her breasts were full but high and firm to the touch, 
their enticingly rounded contours a sharp contrast to her flat little belly 
and tapered white thighs. 

People would think of her as beautiful, she knew this full well, but still 
she was not comfortable with her body, and even during her honeymoon she'd 
found it difficult to even sleep in the nude. 

"Hey, honey, what are you doing in there so long?" Bob called impatiently 
through the closed bathroom door. 

"Just getting ready for you, darling," she replied softly. "I'll be there in 
a minute." 

Bob gave out a deep sigh and headed out of the bedroom to the kitchen to 
make himself a cup of coffee. He wondered what in the world his wife was 
doing, and had a sneaking suspicion that for some strange reason she was 
hiding from him. It didn't make sense at all. In every way she was a 
perfectly normal, attractive girl, but when he came home it seemed he had to 
conquer some fear she had of him, maybe of men in general. He was getting a 
little exasperated by it all and just wished they could act together the way 
ordinary husbands and wives did. 

As the water boiled in the saucepan, he found his thoughts drifting back to 
dark-haired Myra Bates, and the strange way she had approached him this 
morning. It was more than neighborly friendliness, he was convinced. He was 
sure there was something sensually suggestive in her sultry voice and that 
she wanted more than just to talk to him. Sure, any neighbor could invite 
you over for a drink, but it was the way she did it that upset him. 

Christ, she must be fantastic in the sack, he mused as he poured the boiling 
water into his cup. Just the thought of her round voluptuous breasts and her 
full ripe contours turned him on . . . and even without his knowing it at 
the time, she had worked him into a frenzy which he vainly tried to 
alleviate with Ann last night. He should have known better, of course, 
because the usual thing happened . . . when he got to the point of orgasm, 
she started whining and pleading and saying that he was hurting her too 
much. Her body had stiffened and she'd cringed just when he was about to 
blow his load inside her . . . Christ, what a welcome home-that was! 

Myra Bates would never pull an act like that on him. He was certain of it. 
She was clearly lonely, for one thing, plus she acted like she had all the 
experience and technique any man could desire. God, would he like to get 
inside her pants! What the hell could he do now, though? He was stuck inside 
his own house with his wife . . . the thought of raping Ann crossed his mind 
for a fleeting second, and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed 
like the right thing to do. 

After all, she was his wife. It wasn't really rape . . . not in the legal 
sense . . . and maybe that's what she needed, to be taken by surprise, 
treated rough. With this idea still half in his mind, Bob Wylie finished his 
coffee and traipsed back to the bedroom. In a moment more, he saw Ann 
finally emerge from the bathroom. 

"Well, here I am," she said with a searching smile. 

He noticed that her face was made up, that she looked ready to go out for a 
night on the town. It seemed awfully peculiar that she would be all prettied 
up now after the way she had resisted him last night. And so, for a long 
moment he stared at her quizzically. 

"Well, how do I look?" she prodded him. Mustering her courage, she flashed a 
smaller smile and made a brave attempt to model the new dress she was in. 
She twirled around and made her skirt flare out over her fine well-formed 
thighs. 

"It's new," she said stating the obvious. Desperately she tried to-buoy her 
flagging spirits, but she could see that her husband was a little less than 
enthused, and she suddenly felt silly and depressed. 

"I see," he said. "Yeah, it looks very nice." 

With a sinking heart, she tried to find what was troubling him. 

"Listen, honey. About last night..." 

"Never mind. That's a nice dress. I just wondered why you were wearing it 
now after what happened ..." 

Her lips suddenly curled down and she was frowning in resentment. If he was 
trying not to discuss what had happened the previous evening, then why had 
he let that remark just slip from his lips? 

Bob tried to cover his blunder. 

"When did you buy it?" 

"Never mind," she said sulkily. "It's not important. I just thought you 
might want to see it. It's not like anything I ever wore before." 

"It looks okay," he replied disinterestedly, sending her spirits plummeting. 

"Bob, please . . . can't we just talk about last night? We never really do 
... " 

"I'm not in the mood, not now. I just expected things to be a little 
different when I came back." 

"Well, then, would you mind if I talked some things over with Myra Bates? 
She's a woman after all, and she might have some ideas ..." 

"Sure, sure, go right ahead!" Bob said sarcastically. "Tell the whole 
neighborhood that we can't make it together. Tell them you're afraid of a 
hard-on, baby, because that's exactly what the problem is." 

"Bob, please!" Ann protested on the verge of tears now. She had gotten 
dressed up just to please him in the hopes that maybe they could try again, 
but he had dashed everything to the ground now. 

Angry and about to break down, she turned and retreated into the bathroom, 
slamming the door violently behind her, and at the same time, Bob huffed out 
of the bedroom. 

"Hi," Myra Bates said pleasantly as Ann opened the front door later that 
afternoon. "I just thought I might stop in for a cup of coffee, if you don't 
mind." 

"No, come right in, Myra. I'm sort of glad you dropped by as a matter of 
fact." 

"Problems, hunh?" the older brunette smiled, tapping the young blonde on the 
shoulder. "You go fix me that cup of coffee and we'll talk them over. 
Where's Bob, by the way?" 

"He's out puttering in the back yard. He stormed out of here a few hours ago 
and hasn't been speaking to me since." 

Ann said it glibly, as though it didn't really matter, as though it were an 
ordinary lovers' tiff, but she was still inwardly upset about her husband's 
behavior, even though by now her tears were under control. 

Briskly she headed into the kitchen and emerged several moments later with 
the coffee pots and cups on a tray. 

"Well, now let's hear what's bothering you," Myra said, seating herself on 
the edge of a comfortable chair. She leaned forward to devote her full 
attention to the younger woman's problems. 

"I . . . I'm not sure I know where to begin exactly. It's kind of personal 
... but I don't mean I don't trust you." 

"Now just relax," Myra soothed in a motherly way. "This is strictly between 
the two of us, and anything you say won't go any further than this room." 

Ann sighed, her original awkwardness overcome by her neighbor's friendly and 
forthright approach. She was sure she could trust Myra Bates, and also sure 
she would learn something from her. Still, she felt embarrassed even to 
herself, though there was nothing to do now except launch ahead. 

"Well ... it has to do with sex," she blurted out, wringing her hands 
together in her lap. "Bob and I ... oh, things just aren't working out." 

Myra smiled sympathetically and took a deep sip of her coffee before 
answering. 

"We all have problems with sex, my dear. And the only thing to do is face 
them and come to some kind of resolution. You can't be afraid just to use 
the word "sex" 

"It's not the word I'm afraid of," Ann confessed, failing to complete the 
sentence. 

"You mean you're afraid you might be frigid." 

The young blonde felt her cheeks burning red as Myra uttered this blunt 
statement. She realized she had been misunderstood, for whatever problems 
existed between her and Bob, they were not that serious. 

"No!" she protested. "I'm not frigid. It's not that bad. It's just that - 
well, I don't enjoy it. I try to, I really try, but I can't help myself." 

"You're still very young," Myra consoled her. "And you haven't been married 
long either. But somehow you just have to relax and not be afraid of your 
body. You have to learn to enjoy sex." 

"Yes, but how?" 

"Oh, there are ways, believe me. Why don't you just leave this to me, and 
I'll think of a way to help you ... as a matter of fact ..." 

Here she was just on the point of bringing up the subject of the 
neighborhood swap club, but in the nick of time managed to check herself. 
Ann Wylie was certainly not going to agree to that yet, but Myra had made up 
her mind that she would be ready soon enough - as soon as she, Myra, put her 
plan into action. 

Fortunately, the young blonde didn't press her at the moment for any 
specific ideas on how to solve her problem, and Myra merely comforted her 
with soothing little truisms that would help her ride out the tide. 

 "You know, Ann, you have everything in the world going for you. You're 
young, very attractive, and you have a wonderful husband. So .you know you 
have to make an effort to improve your sex life. Somehow you'll just have to 
relax so that you become more free and open. I know it's difficult, but the 
only way you can learn is by doing." 

While Ann took this to heart and listened intently, she couldn't help 
feeling that Myra's advice was lacking in some way. She had made a deep 
personal confession, and Myra had not responded on the same level of 
intimacy. True, the worldly wise brunette had said very sage things, but 
they were the kind of things one could read in a book. There didn't seem to 
be anything specific - any course of action that she could follow. Little 
did Ann know that as Myra finished her coffee and bid her goodbye, a plan of 
action was going into effect. But not the kind the trusting blonde wife 
expected . . . 

The garage door was open and Bob was inside, the power mower parts spread 
out on newspapers before him. Myra could see from the look on his face that 
he wasn't just lost in concentration, but scowling with anger. He and his 
wife had obviously had a pretty severe argument not long ago, and he was 
still brooding over it. This would be the perfect time to approach him, she 
told herself as she entered the garage. 

"Hi, there," she said casually. "I hope you can put it back together again. 
My grass is growing fast." 

As he looked up, a startled self-conscious smile formed on Bob's face, and 
then he broke into a little laugh. 

"No sweat. I'm pretty good with machines. It's other things that give me 
trouble." 

"You mean, Ann, for example?" 

"So you know then?" 

"Oh, we had a little talk, but you don't have to worry. I'm not the 
gossiping kind ... by the way since you are so good with machines, maybe you 
could do something with my air conditioner. I'm sure it's just something 
small, and I hate to call a repairman." 

"Sure," Bob volunteered. "I'll come over right now." 

"Oh, goodness! Not now. My house is a mess. I can't let anyone inside now. 
Maybe a little later this afternoon. Around three or four, say?" 

"Fine ... Ill see you then," he smiled. As she walked gracefully back toward 
her house, he followed her with his eyes, admiring her sleek, well-kept 
figure, her long lustruous dark hair. She must be about thirty-five, he 
thought, but she acted more his age. And yet mature enough to really 
appreciate men and give them the enjoyment they needed. Hell, he knew it was 
wrong, but he really wanted to go to bed with Myra Bates. If only it were 
possible. 

Chapter Three 

By three-thirty Myra Bates had everything ready to begin implementing her 
plan. The house, which really hadn't been messy in the first place, was 
sparkling clean and comfortable. She had vacuumed the soft wall-to-wall 
carpeting in the living room, fluffed the sofa pillows and prepared a 
pitcherful of martinis. 

Ann was bound to think something suspicious was going on if her husband 
stayed too long, but then that would just be too bad. There was something 
wrong with the air conditioner, but it was only a minor malfunction which 
she could have fixed even herself if she bothered to pore over the 
directions. In other words, her pretext was valid, but the important thing 
was that she keep Bob Wylie in the house long enough for her feminine charms 
to begin weaving their spell around him. 

She'd done everything to make herself attractive - expensive Chanel perfume, 
a tight, form-fitting dress that sheathed her firm lush body as tightly as a 
wetsuit, her dark hair brushed out shiny and lustrous as it fell in waves 
over her shoulders. The hem of her dress was only slightly more than 
mini-length, revealing her smoothly tapering legs that were sheathed in dark 
tan stockings. The neckline was equally provocative, swooping down low in 
the middle to display a tantalizing glimpse of her ripe breast cleavage. 

With frequent checks of her watch, she began to fidget, checking the 
coasters and ashtrays on the cocktail table, drawing the curtains 
half-closed to create a more intimate atmosphere and cut the light from the 
strong afternoon sun. 

What if Bob for some reason decided to stay home or forgot his promise to 
stop over? She would feel like a perfect fool. But he must have recognized 
the signs she was giving him ... he was young, but he couldn't be that 
naive. Then she began to fear that she'd gone too far. What if he were just 
as afraid of sex as his wife was? She might scare him half to death. 

As these worries ran through her mind, she tried to calm herself by pouring 
a martini and sitting down on the living room sofa. Fortunately, though, she 
did not have long to wait, for on the first sip of her drink, the doorbell 
rang and she rose to answer it. 

He was here! Her plan was going to work. 

Concealing her nervous anticipation, she opened the door and greeted him 
warmly, her eyes flickering over his powerful body which was clothed in 
tight-fitting jeans and a banlon shirt with the top three buttons undone, 
revealing the dark curly hairs of his chest. 

"Well, I fixed everything over at my place, and now I'm ready to take on 
your air conditioner," he said jovially. 

"Come in and have a drink first," she suggested. "You've been working hard 
all day. I've already made some martinis." 

"Good, I'll take one. I'm not usually a martini drinker, but I could use 
something strong and cold today." 

"Chilled to perfection," Myra cooed as she filled a long-stemmed cocktail 
glass for him. 

Gratefully the young engineer took it and sat down at one end of the sofa, 
while Myra seated herself in the middle. She noticed that he seemed slightly 
I'll at ease and that was a good sign, because it meant that he had gotten 
her message. He knew he hadn't just come over to fix her air conditioner. 

Bending forward, she refilled her own glass, making a special point of 
giving her neighbor a good view into the lust valley between her breasts. In 
fact, so sure was she that he could practically see her nipples, she took an 
extra long time pouring the drink, fully conscious of the tantalizing 
spectacle she was making of herself and hoping that this, along with the 
drinks would help to break down his reserve. 

Her strategy was going into high gear now! His eyes were feasting on her 
body, and his tongue circled nervously around his lips. Very subtly she 
moved closer to him on the couch and crossed her legs so that her skirt rode 
back up over her lust-inciting thighs. He averted his eyes from her in a 
self-conscious way. "Well ... if you'll show me the air ! conditioner, I'll 
start working on it right away." 

"Oh, just relax," she chided him. "Let's just have a drink and talk for a 
minute. I'm sure you could use a break." 

As she said this she patted his knee and then ran her hand very lightly over 
his trouser leg in a nonchalant way. 



I . . . well, I mean, Ann is expecting me. I told her I was just dropping 
over for a minute." 

"Oh, don't think about Ann . . . just this once. Husbands and wives think 
about each other too much. That's the worst possible thing for a marriage." 

Before he knew what was happening she had slipped his hand over hers and 
pulled him up off the sofa until they were standing face to face, her 
inviting body only inches from his. Without a word she snuggled closer to 
him and placed her head on his shoulder as she began to tease him by tracing 
her fingers along the lobe of his ear and curling them around the back of 
his neck. He could feel his penis stiffening inside his jeans as her 
voluptuously full breasts pressed against his chest, the tiny hardened 
points of her nipples springing out against the thin banlon material of his 
shirt. 

God, how he'd love to plunge his hand down inside that low-cut dress of hers 
and grab her naked breasts! How he would love to hear her scream and beg for 
his cock! 

Myra sensed her young neighbor's awakening passion and dropped one hand from 
behind his neck to run her fingertips along his hip, sweeping it around in 
the direction of his crotch. She felt his cock springing to hardness, and 
she held her breath as slowly, involuntarily, his arms circled around her 
shoulders and crushed her against his chest. Suddenly he locked his lips 
over hers and gave her a hard, grinding kiss, holding her head tight so she 
couldn't move. She mewled as their mouths worked hungrily against each 
other, and pressed her pelvis hard against his hips. As the handsome young 
man blushed and breathed harder, she had to suppress the desire to giggle. 
Her plan was working all right! Now she just had to be sure not to frighten 
him off. 

Bob, for his part, was totally torn between conscience and desire. He wanted 
this attractive older woman badly, and yet he had never cheated on his wife 
of six months. Even on business trips when there were plenty of 
opportunities to do so, he had always remained true. Now, he was beginning 
to wonder if he hadn't been a fool all along, especially with Ann acting the 
way she was. The thought crossed his mind that she might not just be young 
and inexperienced but actually frigid, in which case it would be practically 
impossible to deal with her. 

"Tell me something, Bob," Myra purred, "Have you and Ann been getting along 
well... in bed, I mean?" 

For a moment he was taken aback that she seemed to be in on his most private 
thoughts, but she had completely disarmed him and there was nothing he could 
do except give her an honest answer. 

"She's young . .. it's just that she hasn't had much experience and she's 
still a little frightened." 

"Are you sure that's all?" 

"What do you mean by that?" 

"In other words, do you think she'll simply improve with time?" 

He had to admit his male pride was piqued now. He didn't want to go around 
talking about his wife in front of the neighbors, yet at the same time, he 
had to get what was bothering him off his chest. 

"All right, if you want to know the truth, she starts out slow and then 
turns as cold as a cucumber," he confessed. "And you're not helping me much 
either, with that sexy dress of yours." 

Bob squinted at her quizzically, releasing his arms from around her waist. 
He wasn't at all sure what she meant - whether she was putting him down or 
inviting him up. In a few moments, however, he knew. She grasped him by the 
hand and led the way up to the bedroom on the second floor, her hips swaying 
in a sensual come-hither rhythm as she led the way. As he followed her, his 
penis grew painfully stiff and hard, his balls aching as though they'd been 
pounded by a sledge hammer. He could feel tiny droplets of eager moisture 
oozing from the tip of his cock into the crotch of his underwear, and he 
wondered how long he could keep control of himself. 

They were inside the bedroom now, standing only a foot or so away from the 
bed. He paused awkwardly, wondering whether he should go over and inspect 
the air conditioner in the window, but in a moment his dilemma was answered. 
Myra threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, thrusting 
her tongue hotly between his teeth, probing it deep into his throat. Then 
she sucked gently on his, nibbling the tender spear with tiny sharp nips of 
her teeth that sent pulsating chills up and down the young man's spine. 
Finally he broke away, and squeezed her body tight against his, thinking 
guiltily for a moment of his own wife. God, he was about to commit adultery 
with the very woman who'd comforted Ann during his absence. He wanted 
desperately to be able to control himself, but he just couldn't help it! His 
cock was so hard it threatened to burst through his jeans. 

"What's wrong, Bob?" she purred. "You're not frightened, are you?" 

She knew she was taunting him, but that was exactly what she wanted to do. 
She wanted to goad him into taking her, into forgetting about how his wife 
would feel if she knew. Myra just wanted his body, his throbbing young cock 
thrusting in and out of her hungering pussy. 

"Are you kidding?" he bluffed. "I just thought we should cool it until I fix 
the air conditioner. You did want me to fix it, didn't you?" 

"Of course I did," Myra purred. "After all, it's getting pretty hot in 
here." 

Bob was momentarily relieved but also disappointed by her answer. Hell, 
they'd gone too far already, but there was still a chance to turn back ... 
to regain respectability. But no, hell no, he couldn't stop now, not with 
her hot body pressing against his. 

To his surprise she suddenly pulled out of his embrace, pushing off from his 
brawny shoulders. 

"It's over there," she pointed toward the window. "Go ahead and fix it while 
I attend to something else." 

She watched as he turned to go to the window, and then she headed into the 
bathroom. As hotly inflamed as she was she had to maintain enough control to 
make sure that things went smoothly. Inside the bathroom she quickly 
unzipped her dress and slipped it off. When she was completely naked except 
for her gold chain necklace and bracelets she slinked back into the bedroom, 
her mind reveling in the thought of how she would stimulate him. 

Bob was laboring over the air conditioner now, but in a moment he would turn 
around and see her, his eyes feasting on her naked tan body, taking in every 
luscious curve of her bikini-striped female flesh. She couldn't wait until 
he was naked himself, his muscles gleaming in the dark light of the room, 
his young cock jutting out stiff and straight from between his handsome legs 
. . 

Bob's mind, however, was on the air conditioner now, as he removed the grill 
and tinkered with the mechanism behind it. In truth, he could hardly 
concentrate, all his thoughts riveted on his older female neighbor and her 
fine voluptuous body. God, it was like a lewd daydream. He'd been thinking 
of her for days and now finally he was going to have her all to himself. He 
meant to go all the way with her today, both to relieve his own frustration 
and to give the teasing bitch all she had coming to her. 

Somehow, he sensed that she was right behind him, and suddenly he spun 
around, his eyes widening at the sight of her incredible nakedness. She was 
standing by the bed, her mouth-watering breasts garnished with ruby-tipped 
nipples, her cunt covered with soft dark hair, her hips flaring wide, her 
long legs tapering with voluptuous sensuality. She was waiting for him, 
waiting for him to fuck her, and his cock grew stronger and stronger inside 
his pants until he feared it would somehow jump out by itself. 

"J-Jesus, you're undressed. You're naked!" he exclaimed, his whole body 
trembling. His eyes roamed eagerly over her body, his face coloring at the 
seductive smile on her painted lips. 

He could see now that she was just as prepared as he was, if not more so. 
Her nipples were stiff and hard, she was excited, waiting for him. Waiting 
for him to fuck her! 

He could barely restrain himself from sinking to his knees in front of her 
to kiss her pussy, thrust his tongue inside her warm wet cuntal lips. 
Instead, he turned away from the air conditioner and seized her in his arms, 
crushing her naked body tight against him, slipping his tongue into the 
cavern of her waiting mouth. 

Tremors of excitement surged through Myra's hot-fleshed body. She was alive 
now, on fire with passionage lust! 

"Quick, take your clothes off," she whispered in his ear. She wanted him 
now, this moment. It couldn't wait! It was all she could do to restrain 
herself from ripping his clothes off for him. 

"I want you to fuck me!" she mewled. "Now, immediately!" 

Fumbling with trembling hands, he slipped off his shirt, unzipped his jeans 
and stepped out of them until they were both naked only inches from the bed. 
Then he seized her and threw her down on the mattress. 

The older brunette was seething with impatience. The sight of his youthfully 
masculine body was driving her insane. His chest was like a suit of armor - 
powerful and well-formed. His cock was young and hard as a rock, blue veins 
coursing through its satisfying thickness so that she could barely control 
her animal urge to be fucked by him. She couldn't take her eyes off it, and 
gazed in awe at its swollen magnificence. It was jutting out like a cobra, 
huge and powerful, and ready to strike! 

She shuddered in anticipation of its feel and lowered her eyes to the 
hair-covered balls beneath it. He was a young bull! Full of sperm that he 
would drive into her any minute. God, he had huge balls. 

"You're beautiful, beautiful!" she whispered, sinking back on the bedspread, 
her legs slithering apart in obscene appeal. 

"You're pretty good, too," he grinned down at her, sure of himself now. He 
felt completely in control of the situation. She'd asked him for something, 
not the reverse. And now he was going to give it to her, but good. He could 
see her eyes lingering on his cock, feasting on it, and he knew she would 
appreciate it when she got it . . . much more than his wife did. 

His eyes gleaming, he mounted the mattress between her widespread legs and, 
bending forward, fastened his lips over her stiff left nipple, his teeth 
clamping down harshly on the tiny bud. She groaned in pained surprise and 
attempted to twist away from the torturous assault, but his hands on her 
smooth-grinding hips held her fast. His mouth roamed from breast to breast 
now, his flickering tongue tormenting the quivering white mounds. Blissful 
twitches of sensation rippled through her body to the center of her belly, 
and she mewled and groaned submissively beneath him. 

Squirming and bucking, she slammed her hips up against his in wanton desire, 
hoping he would not hesitate a second longer before he plunged his 
blood-hardened penis hard inside her belly. 

"Please, please, fuck me!" she begged. Everything was forgotten now. It 
didn't matter that she was the one who was supposed to be seducing him. The 
only thing that mattered was having his throbbing blood-bloated thickness 
pistoning in and out of her cock-starved loins. 

"Sure, neighbor!" he grinned down at her. "I'll fuck you all right." 

"Now, now!" she screamed up at him. "Put your big fucking prick inside me 
now! Split me apart. Please! Please! I can't wait." 

Her wanton passion was driving all reason from her brain now. She was a 
squealing mass of desire, wanting nothing more than to be screwed half to 
death by her handsome next-door neighbor. Just the agony of waiting a second 
longer was killing her. She wanted him now. immediately! 

"It's so big! God, it's so big!" she groaned. "Stick it inside me. Stick it 
in my pussy. I need it." 

Pressing her shoulders down with his weight, he moved his hands over the 
silky smoothness of her back until he reached her buttocks, cupping each 
ass-cheek with ferocious power. They were smooth and pliant, and they molded 
into his hands like dough, as he'd expected them to. She was spread out 
before him submissively, waiting for him to take her, and now that moment 
had arrived. He was going to fuck her all right, fuck her but good! If only 
his wife could be like this, willing and begging for his cock, then his 
marriage would be beautiful. There would be no need to find satisfaction and 
solace between the legs of his sultry-eyed next door neighbor. 

At this point, Myra forced herself up on one elbow and reached forward to 
grab young Bob Wylie's wagging cock. He moaned as her fingers clasped around 
it, encompassing its thick girth in her warm tight palm. His brain was 
pounding with animal lust as he moved his hands around again to the tops of 
her thighs and placed his palms squarely on the trembling white flesh. The 
mingled odors of her perfume and her aroused body sent his senses reeling, 
and his cock throbbed desperately, desiring to penetrate the wet warm 
softness of her cunt. There was no question that this was it, was her arms 
circled up around his neck now and pulled his animal-like body down on top 
of hers. 

But he broke loose from her confining grip and leaned back on his knees, 
gripping his rampant cock in one hand. He was inflamed with desire, an 
animalistic brute who had forgotten all social conventions. 

Slowly he guided his cock forward, using the thick rubbery head to part the 
hair-lined flanges of her pussy. She tossed her head to one side as she felt 
the tingling electric contact of his flesh on hers, an involuntary moan of 
desire escaping from her lips. It was harder and thicker than she thought, 
and her pussy lips palpitated with wild excitement as it slipped up between 
her cuntal lips. 

He thrust deep into her open vagina, jerking his pelvis, and stretching wide 
the soft little opening until he was half-buried in her belly to the hilt, 
only the very base of his penis visible outside her hair-covered loins. 
Pulling back, he pushed harder, slicing into her like a spear, reveling in 
the desperate clutch of her pussy lips around his thickly pulsing weapon. 
She twinged as his lust-inflated balls slammed into her upturned ass-cheeks, 
realizing that she'd gotten more than she bargained for. She had 
underestimated Bob Wylie, and was now moaning defenselessly beneath him, her 
face contorted in a mask of pain and pleasure. 

"Easy, easy!" she chanted as he began a rhythmic sawing in and out between 
her legs. Even though it hurt for the moment, though, Myra knew that slowly, 
very slowly the pressure would lessen, and her pussy would expand to 
accommodate the massive instrument see-sawing back and forth in her 
desire-filled little cunt. 

She was right, too, for by now her eager young neighbor's caresses were 
renewing the crazy fire inside her groin. She began to undulate her body 
rhythmically, meeting each thrust that his blood-heavy cock made inside her. 
Her body bounced up and down on the bed, her breasts grinding against his 
chest, her body tingling with life as he rammed into her. 

"Yesss, yesss!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Fuck me like that. Oh 
God, fuck me!" 

Bob rammed into her, prodded by her obscene words. He grasped her buttocks 
again and pulled her open loins up tighter against him, fucking in and out 
like a crazed animal in a rhythmic driving motion. His entire lust-engorged 
cock was swallowed up inside her and then slid out again, covered with her 
warm cuntal moisture. He could sense her pussy growing wider and hungrier 
with each pounding thrust he made. 

Her buttocks began obscenely churning and rotating, bucking off the mattress 
and slamming down hard again until suddenly her legs shot up and locked them 
around his back, her heels digging into his spine and spurring him on as 
though she were riding a horse in an upside-down race. She was urging him 
deeper and deeper into the cock-hungry canyon between her thighs. Her eyes 
squeezed tightly shut, and she reached forward and squeezed her fingers into 
his hotly working buttocks, raking them with her nails until she drew tiny 
red welts across the surface. And all the while, she twisted insanely, 
moaning and mewling in wanton desire. 

There was no doubt in Bob Wylie's mind now that he had the upper hand, that 
his throbbing male hardness had conquered this sex-crazed woman who was 
merely trying to use him. He had this hot-blooded married neighbor of his in 
the best possible position . . . flat on her back beneath his loins. Hell, 
he could drop in any time and do what he wanted with her, and she'd love 
every minute of it. He could make her beg for his cock, if he liked. And the 
great thing was, no one would ever know about it. She was married, too. and 
she certainly couldn't tell her husband. It would be a little secret just 
between the two of them. 

''OOOOOOOOOOH, A AAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!'' Myra wailed, unable to control herself, 
her head spinning mindlessly as her body was filled with his hard-driving 
cock. 

Grinning, he gazed down excitedly at the lewd sight of his penis steaming in 
and out of her wet pink pussy, and a wild impulse overcame him so that he 
shoved into her even more viciously. A wailing moan broke from her lips, a 
sound that mingled incredible pleasure with sharp, twisting pain. He watched 
his cock withdraw to the ragged edges of her cuntal lips, then watched her 
as he held it there, teasing her, making her writhe and squirm for more. 
Then he shoved inside again, his face twisted with raw desire as he heard 
her grunt and gasp from the smooth re-entry. Her cunt was bulging with him 
now, the hot wet inner flesh stretched wide as his blood-engorged rod rammed 
deeper and deeper inside, trembling and quivering and expanding like an 
angry cobra. 

"Aw, aw, OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she wailed. "F-fuck me, fuck me like that. Yesss!" 

As she whined below him, she clawed her fingernails back and forth over his 
churning buttocks and up over his laboring back. Bob could feel his cock 
jumping in the clasping vaginal warmth as if it were going to burst from the 
mad pleasure building up inside it. His bull-like balls smacked lustily 
against her tight-fleshed buttocks as their naked bellies slapped together 
with a lewd wet thud. Her head was rolling from side to side, her glossy 
dark hair fanned out against the mattress. She groaned and screamed and 
clamped her legs even tighter around his back, urging him, begging him to 
stick his cock deeper into her needing belly." 

The young engineer responded exactly the way she wanted him to, his 
thick-veined shaft slicing into her like a battering ram, spreading her 
vaginal passage wider and wider apart and forcing the desperate moans up 
from her chest. 

"God, God, it's so big!" she wailed, her eyes opening wide in horror. She 
had never expected this much cock, this much pleasure from such a younger 
inexperienced man. 

"P-put your finger up my ass," she pleaded, desperate for greater and 
greater pleasure. 

Her shameless plea sent ripples and chills up and down his spine. Never had 
he done anything like this before, but he was willing to learn, and by God, 
she was going to show him. Slipping one hand free from beneath her buttocks, 
he reached down in between his legs, pushed his balls aside, and made sudden 
electrifying contact with his middle finger on the rubbery ring of her anus. 
He circled around the taut little opening, picking up lubrication from her 
cuntal secretions that had dribbled down over her ass-cheeks. The tight tiny 
hole spasmed wide as she caught her breath and he pressed his finger slwoly 
inside it. Her sphincter muscles spasmed and gripped tightly in protest, 
trapping his fingertip there so it couldn't escape. 

He waited a moment, and then shoved hard and deep. The elastic ring gave way 
completely now, and he found his finger lodged up to the first knuckle in 
the dark warm passage of her rectum. Myra emitted a savage cry and ground 
her ass backward into the bedsheets, feeling as though she were impaled on a 
spit. 

"It hurts ... Oh! Oh!" she chanted, gritting her teeth together, a light 
sweat breaking out on her forehead. 

For a split second he thought of withdrawing his finger and releasing her 
from the squirming pain she was undergoing, but he hesitated. Hell, she'd 
asked for this, hadn't she? Now he wanted to see her writhing as she was 
impaled from both ends. God, he couldn't believe this luscious sex-starved 
woman was lying spread-eagled beneath him, urging him on with all her power. 
And yet . . . 

Sensing his indecision she whispered a desperate plea. 

"Hurt me, hurt me!" she begged. "Stick it in harder." 

His eyes wide in amazement, Bob watched as the insatiable brunette ground 
her ass tighter down on his skewering finger until it was sunk as far in her 
rectum as it could go. She was grafting herself onto his body, becoming part 
of him. Never in his life had he thought sex could be so easy and so wicked, 
and never that it would happen with his next-door neighbor. 

"Where in the world is he?" Ann Wylie said aloud in exasperation as she 
glanced at the kitchen clock. Her husband ' had mentioned something about 
going next door to fix Myra's refrigerator, but already he'd been gone an 
hour and a half. What was taking him so long? What was he doing over there, 
anyway? 

She had been puttering about in the kitchen, absent-mindedly doing her 
household chores and at the same time waiting for Bob to return in the hopes 
that she could talk to him about their problems. But no, he'd been avoiding 
her practically all day, working in the yard, in the garage and now over at 
Myra Bates's house. 

If only he knew what she planned to tell him, then he wouldn't have spent 
the day hiding from her. She had rehearsed a little talk in her mind, and 
the words to it were going around in her head even now. 

I love you. Bob. I want to be your wife in every way. And I'm going to do my 
best to learn how to enjoy sex. All I can do is try my best, isn't it, 
darling? 

No, there was no snap solution to their problems. They would just have to 
make an attempt to understand each other and hope for the best. Even though 
it would be a long process, she was still anxious to take the first step, 
and the fact that he'd been avoiding her was building her frustration to the 
bursting point. She just had to go over to Myra's house and fetch him back. 

Sighing, she undid her apron and dried her hands off, then set out for the 
house across the lawn. When she arrived, she rang the bell three times but 
there was no answer. To her surprise however, when she tried the door it 
opened, and she walked inside. 

Something was very strange. The living room was deserted, the curtains were 
drawn, but on a cocktail table by the sofa stood a pitcher of martinis and 
two glasses, one of them only half-empty. Where had Myra gone, and where was 
Bob? Some instinct, a kind of fearful anticipation made the young blonde 
freeze in place and simply listen. At first there was silence, but a moment 
later, odd noises drifted down from the upstairs to greet her ears. Gasping, 
crying noises, as if someone were being hurt. 

It was Myra's voice she was sure, but there was another person too. Had 
someone broken into the house in broad daylight and attacked Myra? A 
paralyzing fear seized Ann. She was on the verge of panic. What could she 
do? Run to the telephone here in the kitchen. Steal outside again and dash 
to her house? Her hands began to tremble, and she could feel her heart 
rapidly palpitating. Get control of yourself, girl. Do something! a voice 
inside warned her. The sounds were growing louder and louder. They were 
incredibly brutal, and there was no question in her mind now but that Myra 
Bates was being raped. 

Her ears strained to listen, her body held in place by horrified 
fascination. 

"Bob, Bob, yes, oh fuck me!" Myra screamed, her shrill voice reverberating 
through the house. 

Ann's jaw dropped, a tremor of shock spasming through her body. She couldn't 
have conceived of it before, but now she knew it was true. Myra Bates was 
being raped, and the rapist was Ann's own husband! Crazy emotions ran 
through the disbelieving wife. She didn't know whether to scream or run, but 
somehow she managed to control herself, and driven by a i morbid curiosity, 
she tiptoed across the living room carpet and made her way upstairs. 

The bedroom door was half open, allowing just enough space so that Ann could 
see inside without being seen herself. Gripping the edge of the door, she 
peered forward. The sight that came to her eyes made the blood drain from 
her face, and it was all she could do to keep from passing out. 

They were both naked, stark naked on the bed . . . her husband and her 
friend, the woman who had pretended to be her confidant. Myra's long tan 
legs were wrapped tightly around Bob's back, and Bob was lunging like a 
piledriver, shoving and bucking in the saddle of her loins. At the same time 
his middle finger was obscenely pistoning in and out of her anus. 

From what Anne could see, they were both having the time of their lives, 
fucking like wild animals, their faces flushed and contorted, lewd grunts 
and vile obscenities pouring from their mouths. They were swimming and 
wallowing in unmitigated lust, lust so shocking that Bob's wide-eyed young 
bride could hardly believe it. Her plans had gone down the drain now, for 
her husband had destroyed everything - love, trust, faithfulness. He was 
cheating like a raving beast . . . fucking her neighbor . . . cheating on 
his own wife, whom he called horrible names and accused of being cold and 
unloving, while she was supposed to sit around and simply wait for him to 
return from his business trips. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks as anger shook her slender body. Why, why, 
had he done this, just when she was ready to change her ways and give him 
what he wanted? Just when she was ready to make an effort to improve if not 
save their marriage? The brutal irony of it all was too much for Ann, and 
quickly she turned and fled down the stairs, back to the haven of her own 
safe home. She went up to the bedroom and locked the door from the inside, 
wanting to be alone now to cry and think what to do next. 

Bob Wylie's sperm-bloated balls were aching beyond all human endurance with 
the desperate need to be emptied inside this writhing woman's eager cunt. 
She was out of her mind with mad desire now, pitching and bucking beneath 
him in maniacal frenzy as he skewered her on his thickly distended cock and 
probed deep into her anus with his outstretched middle finger. Great flames 
of heat were consuming his balls as he strained toward a cataclysmic orgasm. 

"Oooooh, Aaaaagghhh! I'm cumming, now!" Myra cried out, filling her bedroom 
with obscene high-pitched noises from the depths of her throat. Her cum 
flowed out hotly around his stiffly pistoning cock, dribbling down the 
insides of her quivering thighs. Shafts of lightning flashed before her eyes 
as she crooned and mewled in orgiastic release, her vaginal juices flowing 
down between her churning buttocks and bathing Bob's embedded finger. 

Suddenly he, too, reached the apex of his need, and as his body tensed above 
her, jets of boiling hot cum raced up from his balls to the tip of his cock, 
spewing wild and fast up inside her spasming cunt. Her mind flashed on and 
off in mindless sensuality as the searing sperm penetrated the depths of her 
belly. Her cuntal lips clasped and unclasped around his crazily jerking 
cock, milking him for every ounce of the rich male semen available inside 
his body. It came spurting out in wave after wave as he groaned above her, 
and finally with a last gasp of relief he sagged limply on top of her, the 
overflow of his cum trickling in gentle rivulets down between her legs, 
forming an obscene puddle on the bedsheets. 

At last he pulled out with a wet sucking sound, leaving her empty and 
fulfilled, his cock dropping limply between his legs as he dismounted and 
rolled over on the bed beside her. Myra whimpered, running her hands through 
her disheveled black hair, her legs spasming slightly, as though echoing the 
mad intense pleasure she'd just endured. Her stomach trembled as the last of 
her strength flowed out and left her weakened and shaking. 

Recovering herself a moment later, she pivoted off the bed, pulling herself 
up to a sitting position. God, she felt filled and satisfied as she hadn't 
felt in such a long time. She knew she wanted more of this handsome young 
man, and she knew also that she was going to get it. It didn't matter what 
that young blonde wife of his thought. But it would certainly be nice if she 
could get them both to join the neighborhood swap club. After all, that was 
where the real action was. 

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she said, turning to him. 

"You bet I did," he responded enthusiastically in spite of his fatigue. 

"Well, there's plenty more to come, and not just from me." 

At this, Bob Wylie propped himself up on his elbow and glanced at her 
questioningly. 

"What do you mean by that?" 

"I mean there's a little club in the neighborhood, where we get together and 
do just this kind of thing. If you can convince Ann to join it with you, 
then your problems will be over. But otherwise, we can't continue doing this 
. . . not alone together on the sly like we did just now." 

"You mean a swap club? Is that what you're talking about?" 

"Exactly," Myra said calmly. "You see, we're not the only two people in the 
neighborhood who are doing things like this. And besides, if you don't 
loosen that little wife of yours up somehow, your marriage isn't going to 
get anywhere." 

"Now, wait a minute," he protested defensively. 

"You know I'm telling you the truth, don't you? You can't put on a front 
with me. I've talked with Ann too much already. There are no secrets." 

This remark hit Bob with a shock. He hadn't expected it at all, for all 
along he was expecting just a simple fuck with no complications. Sure, he 
would like to loosen Ann up a bit, but the idea of persuading her to join a 
swap club was going to be impossible to put across. Yet, he felt so horny, 
he knew he was going to try! It would certainly help improve their sex life 
together, and it would relieve him of the incredible frustration he'd been 
feeling recently - the frustration of being away for long periods of time on 
business trips and returning to a woman who though deliciously voluptuous 
was not at all comfortable with sex. 

Myra sensed that he was pondering her remarks, and at the same time she 
sensed it was time to dismiss him, to allow him to go home and reflect on 
what she'd said. 

"You were great tonight, you really were. But you better get back before Ann 
comes looking for you. We wouldn't want her to find us like this. . . not at 
this point anyway." 

Mystified, the fatigued young man rose from the bed and began slipping into 
his clothes. The idea of a swap club in this apparently staid neighborhood 
so surprised him that he hardly knew what to think. Which neighbors, he 
wondered, were members? And what went on at the parties they had? The 
thought of it all was tantalizing.and stimulated his curiosity. This had 
been a hell of an experience for him, and he hoped with all his heart that 
there would be many more. He was beginning to feel foolish for having 
remained loyal to his wife for so long when he could have been getting so 
much enjoyment out of life. 

Chapter Four 

Ann waited impatiently in the living room, fuming as she smoked cigarette 
after cigarette, jamming them out in the ashtray. Try though she might, she 
could not force the obscene encounter between her husband and her next door 
neighbor from her mind. Images of their | naked bodies bucking and slapping 
against each other whirled through her mind, kindling the fires of rage in 
her belly. She had purposefully not bothered to begin fixing dinner in the 
kitchen because she wanted to surprise and upset Bob when he walked through 
the front door. He had cheated on her, betrayed her after | only six months 
of marriage, and lie was not going to get off easily. She was going to 
confront him with what he'd done. 

She was doubly infuriated as she realized how gullible she'd been, thinking 
that Myra Bates was her confidante, that there had been no ulterior motive 
in the older neighbor's gestures of friendship. All along she'd been blaming 
herself for her fear of sex, but now she realized her own husband was 
equally to blame, if he truly loved her as he so often said he did, then why 
had he fallen so easily for the charms of the dark-haired older woman? Why 
would he be fucking her so brutally? From now on she resolved that she was 
no longer the scapegoat in their marriage, if there was still a marriage to 
preserve. 

Myra was obviously some sort of depraved sex maniac who had trapped her Bob 
and forced him into doing things that he wouldn't normally do. It was 
obvious that she too couldn't be trusted any longer, and at the same time 
Ann's anger made her feel that she had to prove herself as a woman against 
Myra. That even though she hated her husband for what he'd done to her, she 
wanted to prove that she could satisfy him as much as Myra Bates had done. 
Beyond that, she wanted to prove something else. 

For now as she sat chain-smoking in her living room, the livid young blonde 
began to wonder whether she had been a fool, saving her body for one man. 
She wondered why she couldn't be allowed to go out and have some outside 
experience just as he had done. And the more she pondered it, the more 
attractive the thought became. But how, how, she wondered, could she pay Bob 
back for the way he'd treated her? She just couldn't go out to a bar 
somewhere and pick up any man. That wasn't her style. She couldn't live with 
herself if she did that. Not, there had to be some other way, and she was 
determined to find it. 

"All right, Bob," she said out loud. "You've had your fun and now I'm going 
to have mine." 

A smile of grim determination crossed her face as the front door opened and 
Bob entered, his face still flushed, the buttons on his banlon shirt fixed 
in a clumsy manner, his blue jeans rumpled from being haphazardly cast on 
the floor of Myra Bates's bedroom. As he entered, Ann simply puffed on her 
cigarette, giving no indication whatsoever that she had noticed him. 

"Look, about what happened this morning. Let's just forget about it, hunh?" 
he said, trying to be casual. 

Ann suppressed a bitter laugh. Who was he trying to fool? He had been 
avoiding her all day when she wanted to talk about this very subject, but 
now after he had screwed Myra Bates he was suddenly willing to bring it up. 
Several hours ago, she would have talked to him readily, but now it was too 
late. He had overstepped all the boundaries of propriety. He was no longer 
her husband, but her enemy. It was all she could do to restrain the burst of 
sarcastic laughter that was rising in her throat. God, he was actually being 
kind now because of his own guilt. Well, if he could be kind, she could too. 
She had made up her mind to treat him exactly the way he treated her. They 
were going to be equals from now on. 

"Listen Ann, we've got to talk about what's happening between us," he said 
as he approached her. His pretty blonde bride tilted her head back on the 
couch, took a luxurious puff of her cigarette and laughed capriciously as 
she exhaled the smoke. 

"Oh don't worry about silly things like that," she said sarcastically. "Just 
worry about something important like fixing us dinner. I'm starving, you 
know." 

She did not even lift her eyes to him as she said this, pretending to ignore 
him in the haughtiest way imaginable. She was fully prepared for the 
outburst of indignation that she knew was coming. 

Bob, for his part, could hardly believe his ears. Never before had Ann 
displayed outright insolence the way she was doing now. Despite any problems 
they'd had in bed, she'd always been a good housewife, taking care of the 
place while he was away, fixing meals when he was home. But now, now she was 
sitting there not even bothering to look at him, even though normally she 
would be in the kitchen preparing their dinner without any questions asked. 

He figured she was probably still upset from their earlier argument. She was 
just hurt that he'd been gone so long and when he'd returned had complained 
about the way she performed in bed. She was just waiting for him to say 
something sweet, and then she would melt in his arms. Now he wished he 
hadn't been so easily led in by Myra Bates, but after all he was a man, and 
what was he going to do? Myra was a good-looking woman who was attracted to 
him, so much so that she had actually gone to all the trouble of seducing 
him. What was he supposed to'do - refuse her advances? After all, he was 
human, damn it! 

He knew Ann would forgive him if she knew that he had been taken over by 
ungovernable lust and now felt guilty for what he had done. But how could he 
explain all this without actually describing the situation as it had taken 
place? The only thing he could do was try to soothe her somehow. 

"Look, come on now, Ann. I've already said everything's okay.. We can work 
out our problems." 

As soon as he said this though, her sharp blue eyes glared up at him, and 
she leaned forward on the couch and jammed her cigarette into the ashtray 
with a violent thrust. 

"Oh, you think it's that easy, do you?" 

"Sure, of course. I mean, we have things to talk over, but I know we can 
solve our problems." 

"Maybe we could have this morning, but not now." 

"What are you talking about?" Bob frowned. 

"You were over at Myra's house an awful long time today." 

"Well, the air conditioner was in worse shape than she told me. It took a 
long time to fix it." 

Trying to hold back the tears, Ann finally sighed in resignation. 

"Don't lie to me, Bob. You weren't fixing the air conditioner. I know 
exactly what you were doing because I saw you doing it." 

"You . . . you saw what?" he stammered in disbelief, unable to keep from 
blushing like a schoolboy. 

"I saw you and Myra on the bed. She had her legs wrapped around you . . . 
and you were fucking her!" 

It was the first time she had used that obscene word in her husband's 
presence, and she could see it was having a powerful effect. In fact, he was 
reeling from it, having lost his composure completely. His mouth tried to 
form words, but nothing would come out. She knew he couldn't even try to 
deny it now. She'd taken him completely by surprise. 

"N-Now wait a minute," he protested weakly. 

"Don't try to cover it up, Bob," she replied with steely determination. "I 
suppose I should have expected something like this. I really shouldn't be at 
all surprised by it. 

"You mean you don't care?" 

"It's not that I don't care. It's just that I'm going to get even with you." 

Bob found himself unable to move, frozen in place. His wife's eyes looked 
impossibly bright, and she was speaking, in such an odd tone of voice that 
for a moment he wondered if she might not be suffering from a severe nervous 
strain. 

"Honey, what are you talking about - getting even with me?" 

"I mean, I'm going to get even with you, Bob. I mean that I'm going to fuck 
somebody just the way you fucked Myra Bates. 

Bob'. face collapsed. She was dead serious, he could see that. Never in his 
life would he have expected this kind of reaction. For her to cry, yes, or 
throw a tantrum, but not just to be perfectly calm and inform him that she 
was going to find someone else to fuck her. He wanted to leave the room and 
come in again, pretending this hadn't happened. He just couldn't believe 
that his own wife would want to commit adultery with a strange man ... His 
mind reeled as he pictured her at the swapping club Myra had mentioned. He 
could see other men in the neighborhood, enjoying her body - his property - 
as they rammed their cocks up between her long white legs. No, it was vile, 
filthy. And now he realized that Myra Bates had trapped him. For a few 
minutes' pleasure, he would be forced to sacrifice his own wife. Myra had 
planned it all, had manipulated him from the very moment her own husband had 
left on his business trip. 

There was no use trying to smooth things over now, though. If Ann was going 
to act firm and determined then he would act the same way. 

"Go ahead, get even with me. It should be easy enough. Apparently everyone 
in this neighborhood screws everyone else's spouse. I think they even have a 
social club, devoted to just that." 

"I suppose Myra told you that." 

"Yes, she did. In fact, she wanted both of us to join it." 

"Well now, fancy that. And what did you tell her?" 

"I... I didn't tell her anything." 

"You didn't tell her anything because you wanted to join it yourself and 
leave me sitting here at home nights. Well, I've had enough of that. We're 
going to join it together and see how you like it." 

Ann had moved toward him from the couch now to confront him without 
concealing any of the anger inside. Bob for a moment was taken aback, but 
now his male pride told him that he wasn't going to take this kind of thing 
from any woman alive, not even his wife. 

' "You just watch who you're talking to, you little bitch," he snarled. 
"Just because I screwed Myra Bates, doesn't mean I'm some kind of lech. It 
just means I'm human. We're not going to any swap club. We're going to sit 
down and talk our problems out - just the two of us." 

"That's just fine for you to say when you've been avoiding me all day long." 

"Listen, dammit. If you keep egging me on this way, I'm gonna belt you." 

"Go ahead, go right ahead and try it if that makes you feel like a real man. 
This isn't the first time you've been in bed with somebody like Myra Bates. 
I bet there were plenty of others on those trips you take." 

"Plenty is right," he shouted violently. "Only the others were better." 

Though it was she who had started out goading him, the situation had 
suddenly reversed itself. She hadn't expected her husband to be this strong 
and unflinching, and suddenly her temper snapped. She lunged at him and 
tried to slap his face, but he caught her wrist and twisted it until she 
winced with pain. 

"You little bitch. This'll teach you never to ... " 

"Bob, Bob, please, you're hurting me," she whimpered, tears of excruciating 
pain streaming from her eyes. "I was only saying that ..." 

"Maybe it would be a good idea to join that club. I'd like to see you being 
fucked by another man . . . right in the ass." 

"Bob, no! Oh God, please." 

"Get undressed," he hissed cruelly from between clenched teeth. "Right here 
and right now. I'm going to be the first to teach you how to fuck and enjoy 
it. I'm tired of all your damn excuses." 

"Bob, y-you're hurting me." 

Suddenly he released his grip on her wrist, but as the young blonde breathed 
a premature sigh of relief, he took a step forward and grasped the front of 
her blouse with both hands. With a violent gesture, he tore it apart so that 
the buttons popped loose and fell to the floor. 

"I told you to get those clothes off. Now I'm gonna take them off for you." 

Ann's mouth and eyes were open wide with horror. She could not even resist 
as he hooked his fingers under her lace-edged brassiere and suddenly yanked 
it apart, bursting the snape in back. He pulled the straps down over her 
shoulders as she struggled and tried to squirm away, suddenly coming to her 
senses. But it was no use, her roundly trembling breasts were naked and 
exposed before his lustful gaze, and she crossed her arms defensively over 
her chest as she cowered back from his violent intentions. "N-no, honey, 
please don't do this. Let me explain. I ... I was just trying ..." 

"Go ahead and explain all you want. I'm still gonna fuck you but good." 

"Bob, no! You're getting out of control." With a brutal shove, he pushed her 
back against the sofa, and she collapsed helplessly down on it. She 
struggled up to race for the bedroom and lock herself in, but he caught her 
and threw her back down. There was nothing she could do now. No matter how 
hard she tried to resist, he was going to dominate her. Her face colored a 
bright red from the shame and humiliation of his eyes locked on her heaving 
breasts, his heavy breath panting in her face. Desperately, she tried to 
think of something to say to calm him, to make him think twice about what he 
was doing, but that too was useless. 

Glaring, he unbuttoned the side of her skirt enough to grasp the open flaps 
and rip it all the way down the seam. Her lower lip trembled as she tried to 
form words, to scream. Oh God, he was going to rape her! She was going to be 
attacked by her own husband. She saw him staring at her voluptuous thighs, 
his eyes moving upward to feast on her silken panty crotch for what seemed 
an endless moment. He was suddenly beside her now, seizing her shoulders 
with each hand, his fingers pressing so hard into the tender flesh that her 
bones ached. 

"Get used to it, Annie baby," he warned her. 

"We're going to be doing a lot more of this, and you're going to like it." 

His angry face was only inches away from hers, his hot breath raking her 
cheek. She felt as though she were in the hands of a criminal, not with her 
own husband whom she loved, had loved until Myra Bates had interfered with 
her marriage. 

"Now you've gotta put your money where your mouth is. If you have the guts 
to tell me you want to join that swap group, you better have the guts to 
give me what I want first. Now take your panties off or shall I rip them 
off?" 

The luscious young blonde lay on the couch in helpless shock, her useless 
clothing wrenched and torn away from her cowering body and scattered 
sloppily over the floor. It was broad daylight, the front door was still 
half-open, but she knew that nothing would stop her husband, not even what 
the neighbors might see and say. 

She squirmed once again, trying to break away, and pushed out against his 
shoulders. With one hand, he held her down and with the other he suddenly 
slapped her across the cheek so violently that she thought her head was 
going to snap off. The tender skin glowed and stung as though it had been 
doused by acid. She fought and struggled for real now, kicking and 
scratching him like a trapped wildcat. Their arms and legs tangled, and 
before she knew what was happening, they had rolled off the sofa to the 
thickly carpeted floor. 

Ann felt the full weight of his massive body on top of her, sapping the 
breath from her lungs. Suddenly he was up on his knees, his legs straddling 
her belly and reaching down, he tore her flimsy panties brutally away. 

"Please, Bob, not this way!" she pleaded frantically. She knew he was going 
to rape her now, no matter how much she protested and pleaded. He was going 
to screw her until his angry penis seared every inch of her cringing belly. 
He would show no mercy, and she would have to take it all in shame and 
humiliation. 

His weight lifted slightly as he ripped down his zipper and wriggled his 
jeans down to his knees. Rivulets of tears flowed down the sides of her 
cheeks as she felt him cruelly splaying her legs apart on the floor. 

"Darling, we have to talk," she pleaded futilely in a desperate attempt to 
reason with him. 

But his eyes were glazed with pure animal lust now, and she felt him drop 
back to his knees between her thighs, his blood-swollen cock throbbing and 
jerking as it jutted outward from his loins. Knocking her almost breathless, 
he lunged forward on top of her and jabbed his lust-engorged member up 
between her thighs without bothering to prepare her. To Ann it felt like a 
thick hot weapon, a spear in the hands of a savage that was assaulting her. 
Each time it hit her in the tender furrow between her legs, she jumped with 
pain as though she had been hit with a red-hot poker. 

"Aaaggh, God! Stop!" she pleaded. 

Finally he found the tiny opening he'd been looking for and been blinded 
from by his animal frenzy. As his hips jerked forward, the bulbous head of 
his penis rammed up against her cringing pussy lips, forcing them apart and 
sinking a brutal inch deep inside her cunt, spreading the elastic entrance 
cruelly wide so that she squirmed and jerked on the mattress. 

"Awww, Oh! Nooo!" she screamed in terror. "You're hurting me. P-Please, 
please stop!" 

"What for, baby? I'm going to teach you a lesson, remember? And I'm not 
gonna stop now, not for anything." 

"Help! Help!" she wailed, her mouth wide open, her throat straining as the 
useless words poured out from her chest. She could feel Bob recoiling for a 
moment like a snake about to strike, and then suddenly he lunged again, 
driving his monstrous cock deeper in her stomach. Without mercy he fucked 
into her in hard, brutal strokes, oblivious to the tears that were streaming 
down her face as she writhed and bucked in futile protest on the rug beneath 
him. Shoving his hands under the backs of her thighs he pushed her legs 
upward until her feet were dangling in the air, pointing ludicrously toward 
the ceiling. 

Her knees were bent back so that they were practically touching the carpet 
on either side of her head, and she groaned in agony as his belly slapped 
hard against hers with an obscene thud. Again and again his murderous weapon 
drove deeper and deeper inside her until she was racked with a mind-numbing 
pain. His cum-bloated testicles beat a lewd tattoo against her upturned 
white ass-cheeks, and her head bobbed up and down off the floor with each 
violent motion of his body. The smacking of flesh against naked flesh 
reverberated obscenely through the room like paddles slapping against 
buttocks. 

A low piteous moan erupted from her throat, bringing no response from Bob, 
who was lost in animal intensity as he concentrated on skewering her body. 
He responded only by thrusting harder and harder until his throbbing hot 
thickness was assaulting her cervix and she was certain that her insides 
would be destroyed. Her own husband was raping her in the middle of the 
living room floor! She was being used as a whore, a common slut, and there 
was nothing she could do about it, no way she could fight back. God, it was 
the most horrible thing she had ever endured! 

She would never be the same again, she would be ruined as though some vile 
intruder had broken into her house and raped her. There was no fight left in 
her any longer, only the agony of passive submission. She lay unresisting, 
not bothering to struggle at all, because the struggle would be totally 
useless. 

"How's this, baby?" Bob sneered down at her. "Are you getting your kicks 
now?" He grunted, ramming farther and farther up inside her aching bruised 
cunt until she thought she couldn't stand a second of it any longer. He dug 
his fingernails savagely into her firm-fleshed thighs, and she mewled in 
pain, begging him to stop. 

"How do you like it?" he demanded again when she gave no answer. "Well?" 

"Oh ... no ... I ... I love you .. . but not . . . not like this," she 
muttered, her blonde head flailing from side to side and her teeth clenched 
tensely together. 

"You better love it, goddamn it, you better!" he shouted at her, his face 
distorted with insane passionate anger. 

He lunged into her even more feverishly, increasing the tempo until his 
helplessly skewered wife couldn't protest any longer, until all thought and 
feeling was focused on his lust-thickened cock ramming deep up inside her 
loins and she couldn't even think straight. 

"Put some action in it," he commanded in a deep gruff voice. In a matter of 
only a few moments his personality seemed to have changed completely. He was 
a tyrant now, a fanatical despot who wanted nothing more than her total 
submission. She knew he couldn't possibly listen to reason, and with sobs 
choking her throat she began a mechanical grinding motion back at him, 
pushing her hips up against his wildly bucking pelvis to escape the nails 
raking demandingly over her innocent flesh. A complicated network of red 
welts followed their path, and her debasement grew every second. 

She could feel him building to orgasm, his cock throbbing and quivering to 
new size inside her belly as it strained for the final peak of ecstasy but 
delayed at the last second, torturing and teasing her. He was going to spew 
his cum inside her, not lovingly but with rage and anger in order to hurt 
her. God, what had she done to him to deserve this? 

Her whole body tensed and trembling, Ann waited for the furious eruption 
that she knew would follow. She had feared and dreamed of such passionate 
lovemaking, but never had she wanted it like this... not with her husband 
full of hate and using her as some kind of common whore. She had always 
wanted it to be beautiful, for the two of them to cherish each other at the 
moment of fulfillment, but now her dream was being destroyed. He was simply 
a man, a stranger, a wild animal. There was no tenderness left inside him. 

Levering higher over her, Bob quickened his pace until he was rocketing in 
and out of her pussy like a quick-pistoning engine. His fingers kneaded her 
flesh in blatant disregard of her pained whimperings. He wanted to destroy 
her, to fuck her half to death, and his cock kept expanding in her ravaged 
vagina until she thought it was going to burst her tender passage apart. 

She waited a long lingering second, and then felt the expected explosion. 
Cringing under him and groaning out her protest, she sensed the first jet of 
her husband's white-hot sperm rocketing up inside her cock-spread cunt, deep 
into her aching belly. The thought that he had done the same thing only a 
short time ago to their next door neighbor, made hate and anger well inside 
her, and she clasped her vaginal muscles tight in a desperate last-ditch 
effort to stop the ramming motion of his penis, but it only seemed to spur 
him on. His cock palpitated madly in the harbor of her cunt, sending more 
and more semen flooding inside her, punishing her with his sperm. Then 
finally a deep-throated groan burst from his chest and he collapsed back 
down on her nakedly ravished body, breathing heavily, sucking for air as 
though he would die any minute. 

"Aaaaagh, God!" he groaned as he shot the last spurt of his cum into her 
shuddering loins. 

Slowly, little by little, he pulled out from her, his deflated penis raw and 
shiny from the mingled sperm arid female secretions. Gazing down, he saw his 
own cum trickling back out of her cunt and down between her luscious 
widespread thighs scissored open on the rug, still jerking and trembling 
from the ordeal her body had undergone. Her eyes were closed tight trying to 
block out the reality of what had happened, her lips parted by the moans of 
pain and shame that were pouring out between them. 

Her loins felt maimed and bruised, and she made no attempt to move as Bob 
slipped into his jeans again and pulled the zipper up with a metallic 
whizzing sound, then slipped back into his Banlon shirt. 

"Well, are you still ready for the neighborhood swap club?" he breathed 
sarcastically as he loomed over her. 

Suddenly her eyes blinked open, and she pushed herself up from the carpet on 
her elbows, her jaw set in defiance. 

"Yes, I'm ready," she hissed back at him. "I'm ready anytime. In fact, I'm 
looking forward to someone who doesn't have to act like an animal to get 
what he wants. There are probably a lot more experienced men than you in 
that club. At least they can show me something." 

Bob smirked at her, his violence gone because of the release he had achieved 
through his violent rape of her. Had she said something bitchy like that ten 
minutes ago, he would have been ready to slap her silly, but now he was just 
eager to see how she would take the challenge. For some reason, the thought 
of her being screwed by other men in the neighborhood did not bother him any 
longer. After all. it wasn't worth it to preserve a marriage to a woman who 
was incapable of enjoying sex. 

Maybe the club experience would cure her and maybe it wouldn't. The point 
was, there was nothing to lose. If she didn't lose her frigidity somehow 
very soon, he would just have to divorce her and find someone else. He'd 
given her six months now. and while on many occasions she'd tried to please 
him, he knew that it was all an act. You couldn't live a lie indefinitely. 
At some point the moment of truth had to come. 

Ann remained listless and naked on the floor as her husband buttoned up his 
shirt and then headed upstairs to the bedroom. She did not bother 
immediately to put her clothes on even though it was still daylight, even 
though a passing neighbor or delivery boy could easily see her in her 
debased state through the half-open front door. She simply didn't care 
anymore. In one afternoon her marriage had been destroyed and there was 
nothing to care about any longer. 

All her dreams for a happy life with Bob in the future were shattered now, 
and she had to turn elsewhere for satisfaction. 

True, just a while ago she had told him she was ready and willing to join 
the local swap club, but she had said that simply for effect, to spur him 
on, to make him jealous and receptive toward her. Needless to say, it had 
all backfired, but now she was beginning to think of the alternatives. Maybe 
she really should join that club that Myra Bates was apparently a member of 
good standing in. It would be hard for her, she would be frightened to death 
the first night, but what alternative was there? Her marriage wasn't even 
worth saving now and she might as well be free. 

Slowly rolling over on her side, the unhappy blonde struggled into position 
to get up. A dull pain suffused her battered body as she carefully rose to 
her feet, picking up her rumpled clothing along the way. Looking down over 
her aching breasts and belly, she could see red welts and bruises, and as 
she glanced at the tattered blouse in her hands she began sobbing so that 
her shoulders shook. Her nipples felt enlarged and swollen from the twisting 
they had undergone at her husband's hands. 

So this was what it was like to be raped, she reflected as she stood naked 
in the living room. It didn't matter that the foul deed had been perpetrated 
by her own husband. It was the same feeling as if some intruder had broken 
in and taken her body. That was all she had left now - her body - all her 
clothes had been ripped to shreds. 

But a certain pride swelled inside the young housewife. If only her body was 
left to her, then she would have to use it, and she was determined to use it 
in order to get back at Bob for what he'd done to her. She was fully 
prepared to join the neighborhood swap club now - and not just join it but 
become the hottest thing those men had ever seen. She was going to do her 
best to make Bob feel remorse for the cruel way he had abused her. There was 
really no other choice. She was going to learn how to like sex at any cost! 

Her clothes in hand, Ann plodded naked up the stairs to the guest bedroom, 
locking the door behind her when she arrived and heading immediately into 
the bathroom to take a shower. She had a few surprises in store for her 
husband, and she couldn't wait to put them into effect. 

Chapter Five 

It was a lazy afternoon, the summer sun slanting through the windows of the 
Wylie kitchen, the air outside mild and calm. Ann's light blonde hair glowed 
softly in the light as she prepared dinner over a chopping board by the 
sink. Myra Bates was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee 
which her neighbor had prepared for her. 

"It's been a pretty nice summer so far, hasn't it?" the older woman said 
with surprising sentimentality. 

"Yes, in some ways it has," Ann replied cryptically. She realized, of 
course, that Myra was speaking only of the weather, but there were many 
other things that were running inside Ann's mind - specifically the strange 
turn of events that her marriage had taken. Six months ago she could never 
have envisioned her husband committing adultery with their next door 
neighbor. Much less could she have seen herself willingly joining a 
neighborhood swap club. But things had changed, and there was nothing to do 
except flow with the times. 

The young blonde wife had become very negligent lately as a result. This 
morning, for instance, she'd forgotten to wake Bob at eight, had forgotten 
to get the laundry together for the truck that habitually passed by to pick 
it up. And the funny thing was she didn't feel guilty about it. Ever since 
Bob had attacked her in the living room, their relationship had cooled off. 
And yet instead of simply feeling rejected, she felt more independent now, 
and she had noticed the same thing in her husband. Where would it all lead? 

Myra, sensing Ann's mellowed frame of mind, decided to hit her with a direct 
question concerning what they'd discussed already. 

"Ann, you're sure you and Bob want to join the club, aren't you?" 

Ann was suddenly brought back to reality, but there was no hesitation in her 
response. She had made up her mind long ago what her course of action would 
be. 

"Yes, I'm certain. Bob is too. He told me so yesterday." 

"I know he may have said that, but what are your feelings. You have to go 
into this thing wholeheartedly or else it won't work." 

"I want it to work," Ann answered sincerely. 

The tone of resignation and acceptance in her voice convinced Myra that the 
somehow withdrawn girl was really willing to accept the stimulation of 
uninhibited partner swapping. There was no glint of anticipation in the 
young blonde's eyes, no sign of eagerness, and yet somehow Myra was 
convinced that Ann would indeed go all the way. The two women turned away 
from each other for a moment as the afternoon sun lowered in the sky, but 
each knew what the other was thinking. 

"Did Bob tell you about the other day ... at my house?" Myra asked out of 
curiosity. She was positive somehow that the secret had come out, but yet 
she wanted to know for sure. Her curiosity had led her to pose the question. 

"He didn't just tell me about it. I saw you ... I saw you doing it together. 
The front door was open, and so I walked inside." 

"Well, things happen that way sometimes," Myra sighed. "You don't have to 
worry about it, though, Ann. It was nothing more than sex. Don't you see, if 
you could learn to enjoy sex for its own sake, your husband wouldn't have 
done that. But I think the other people in the group will help you 
understand that. We're not freaks, you know. We're normal people just like 
the other neighbors around here, and we have a good time together. " 

Myra realized that her message was somewhat vague, but it seemed to be 
having an effect on the younger woman. 

"Oh, I'm not really blaming anyone. I suppose the relationship between Bob 
and me was destined to change somehow . . . some time. You were just the 
person who happened to do it, and in a way I'm grateful . . . now, at 
least." 

"Good, I'm glad you're coming to your senses," Myra said cheerfully. And I 
think you'll even be able to have fun." 

"When is the next party anyway?" "We're getting together next Wednesday 
night at Bill and Ethel Boyer's place. You know them, don't you?" 

"Yes, I think I've seen them, but I can't really say I know them." 

"I'll give you a call when I know the exact time. The three of us can go 
over together." 

"Good, that's fine," Ann smiled. Finishing her coffee, Myra bade her 
neighbor good-bye, still surprised by the even way she was taking what had 
happened. She was taking it like a real woman and not some sort of 
moonstruck teenager. But still, how she behaved at the get-together would be 
the real test. Myra could picture it in her mind even now. She could just 
see how Ann and Bob would be astonished at what they could learn. The first 
time at a swap party was a mind-blowing experience for everyone. 

It would be especially mind-blowing for Ann and Bob because it was being 
held at the Boyer home, and Bill Boyer was as crass and rude as they came. 

It was Myra, ironically enough, who had introduced him to the club while his 
wife Ethel was away visiting relatives. After less than a week, she had 
found another eligible male to join the club with, and while Bill had been 
upset about it, they had both adjusted eventually - which was what happened 
to all the couples who joined. 

One thing was certain - Wednesday night was going to be interesting from 
everyone's point of view. 

Checking her wristwatch as she entered her own home, Myra sighed, realizing 
that this was the time when Lee usually called her. It was funny, but he 
hadn't been in touch with her for over a week, and she was beginning to 
worry. True, she was independent and had stepped out to have her own fun, 
but she still loved her husband and hoped nothing had happened to him. And 
besides, if he called and told her he would be coming home early, that would 
spoil Wednesday night, for Lee did not have the slightest idea in the world 
that there was a mate-swapping club in the neighborhood and that his wife 
was a member in very good standing. 

Chapter Six 

There was no way Ann could deny the jittery excitement she was feeling. 
Butterflies were fluttering in her stomach; her hands were trembling as she 
glanced at the people who were gathered in the Boyers' living room. It was 
well furnished, sedate and calm, and surprisingly with expensive antiques. 
It was not what she would have pictured as the setting for a neighborhood 
swap party. 

While some of the people were familiar to her, homeowners who lived only a 
few blocks away, she saw other people whom she did not recognize at all. 
Some of them, in fact, seemed to be out-of-towners there on.an evening 
visit. Everyone was well-dressed as though they were attending a business 
conference or a social function. They all moved with the formality one would 
have expected in the ballroom of a hotel. From the way most of the couples 
were split up, husbands talking to the wives of other men and vice versa, it 
was practically impossible to tell who belonged to whom. The drinks were 
flowing freely and men in short white coats were circulating through the 
crowd balancing plates of hors d'oeuvres on their trays. 

Bob had been silent all the while that he'd driven her and Myra over. And in 
truth, Ann had enjoyed her spouse's silence. It meant that he wasn't so sure 
of himself now, that he may be having doubts about what they were going to 
do. She knew that even though he had practically raped her in a cruel 
bestial way, he still loved her and detested the thought of strange men 
using her body as they were surely going to do tonight. She could see him 
now, standing close to Ethel Boyer, a pert small-bodied woman, dressed in a 
tight-fitting cocktail dress. They were talking vivaciously in a far corner 
of the room, and Ann certainly hoped Bob was coming out of his shell now. 

For even though she too had had doubts all along, she knew now for certain 
that she was going to go through with what was necessary tonight. She was 
going to do it for Bob's sake and for her own in the desperate hope that 
their marriage would be saved. True, she did fe,el jealous about Bob talking 
to Ethel Boyer, but then she realized she couldn't let her jealousy run away 
with her or that would ruin everything. As her eyes fixed on her husband 
across the room, she was surprised by a trim man in his forties who 
approached her with a smile. 

"I'm Bill Boyer," he said charmingly, shaking her hand. "I've seen you 
around, but I don't think we've actually met before." 

My God, she thought. He didn't seem obnoxious at all, the way Myra had 
described him. He was quite pleasant, in fact. Older than Bob, of course, 
but still in very good shape. He looked as though he followed a regimen of 
exercises every day and had once been an athlete of some sort - perhaps in 
high school or college. In a moment, he was pressing a drink in her hand, 
and she accepted it willingly, hoping that it would reduce the last 
lingering traces of nervousness that she felt must be evident to everyone in 
the room. 

"What is this we're drinking?" Ann inquired, hoping to divert the course of" 
conversation. Though she'd taken a few sips of the unknown liquor, she was 
unable to identify it. It seemed bitter and'sweet at the same time. 

"Just some French stuff they call Pernod," Bill said, giving her a 
condescending smile. "Tastes like licorice, eh?" He lifted his own glass and 
took a hefty slug from it, and Ann followed suit. The first taste of what 
she'd drunk was just hitting her now, making her extremities tingle as 
though she had plunged into a cold bath. It was good that it numbed her too, 
for now she saw Bob and Ethel walking off arm in arm to a bedroom on the 
second floor. She felt furious for a minute, but then she regained her 
composure. After all that was what they'd come here for - to find new 
partners. If Bob could do it, so could she, and she was determined to get 
something out of this evening. After all, it wasn't just a social gathering, 
was it? 

"Well, there they go," Bill remarked laughingly. "She'll have your husband 
fired up in no time." 

"I hope they enjoy themselves," she responded, trying to conceal her sarcasm 
and taking another sip of her drink. It was already making her head buzz. In 
spite of the insulation the drink was providing, she swallowed back the cry 
of protest that was rising in her throat. She had brought all this on 
herself, and now she wasn't really sure she could go through with what she'd 
vowed to do. 

What irked her even more was that Bob, when he had slipped his arm through 
Ethel Boyer's and steered her off, had not even given Ann the slightest 
gesture of recognition to show that she was alive, to show that she 
mattered. He had simply walked off with the strange woman without paying the 
least attention to his own wife. Maybe he didn't love her as much as she did 
him. After all, she had come to this party just to learn enough to be able 
to satisfy him later on. Oh hell, and to punish him too, right? She had to 
admit it. 

She took a third sip of her drink now, realizing that her partner for the 
night would probably be the party's host, Bill Boyle, whether she wanted it 
to be that way or not. She just wished the sordid business would be done 
with. She knew she had enough strength to do what had to be done, but still 
there was something about all this that repulsed her. Was it because she 
wasn't calling the shots anymore? 

The couples - the newly formed couples - were beginning to split off now, 
going upstairs to separate bedrooms, and in the midst of the crowd, Ann 
could see Myra Bates leading away a handsome young man whom she vaguely 
recognized as an up and coming local lawyer. His name had been in the papers 
several times, and while Ann had never met him, she realized that he lived 
in the neighborhood. 

"Looks like everybody's getting the same idea, doesn't it?" Bill Boyer said, 
grinning at her. 

His expression was almost lewd, but at the same time there was something 
appealing about him. There was something about a perfect stranger who was 
attracted to her and who wanted her to go to bed with him. 

"Well, what do you say?" he ventured. "Everybody else is pairing off, what 
about us?" 

With that, he gave Ann a wink and a playful pat on the rear end. 

Normally, her reaction would have been to slap him on the face, but now she 
wasn't sure how to respond. There was nothing she could do but accept the 
situation. She knew she was going to go to bed with him the moment he asked 
her, and it was going to be because she wanted to do it, not because she had 
to. There was too much at stake. She had to prove to herself that she could 
really enjoy sex, and once she proved it, she would be perfectly capable of 
satisfying her husband's needs and capable of salvaging their marriage. 
Above all, she couldn't ruin things now by insulting her host. Bob would 
never even talk to her if he found out later that she was "square" in front 
of all these people. - "How's that stuff in your glass?" Bill winked at her. 

"Oh . . . it's nice. It's very sweet, and it certainly seems powerful." 

"Good, good. It'll make you relax." 

She said it absently and at the same time nodding her head up and down to 
feign an interest in what he was saying to her. She didn't care to talk 
about anything now. She just wanted to do what had to be done and get it 
over with. Actually, she was beginning to like the taste of the strange 
drink, and she wondered what was in it to make it have such a powerful 
effect, for her vision was beginning to blur and her knees felt kind of 
wobbly. 

The Pernod was relaxing her all over, and she felt a warm pleasant glow 
spreading through her insides. Her problems were beginning to fade the more 
she relaxed. She was beginning to wonder whether they had all been caused by 
her not being able to relax in the first place, and the thought bothered 
her. She found she could fully admit to herself that Bob was off somewhere 
with this man's wife and that they were doing things that would have been 
intolerable to think of even a few days ago. 

Swallowing the last of her drink, Ann began to wonder when the point of no 
return would come - when Bill Boyer would make the move that she knew she 
couldn't refuse. She had decided on him because he'd made the first move 
toward her, though she certainly wasn't obligated. There were a good many 
other men in the room too - a good many of them handsomer than he. 

Some of them in fact, didn't even look as though they would be involved in a 
swapping group. Not that they were nervous, just that they seemed formal and 
witty as though they were attending a cocktail party with relative 
strangers. Surprisingly, the fair-haired wife found herself warming to the 
idea of sleeping with another man - not just because she needed to in order 
to preserve her own marriage but because of a physical need she felt welling 
inside her now. The liquor had helped bring it along, to be sure, but it was 
something more than the liquor, a change inside herself, a greater feeling 
of freedom. 

"Well, I'll tell you," Bill Boyer rudely interrupted her thoughts, his eyes 
scanning her body at close range. "The more I see of you, the more I think 
I'm getting the better part of the deal." 

Ann had almost forgotten how close to her he was standing, and at the sound 
of his voice she jumped back. The seductive grin on his face, however, was 
not for a moment interrupted by her reaction. It was hovering between a 
grimace and a sneer now as his eyes feasted on her young lush body, mentally 
undressing her, removing each article of clothing until he was imagining her 
standing stark naked in front of him, trembling as his cock jutted out stiff 
and ready between his legs. She felt a little shiver of fearful excitement 
run through-her as she tried to stare back at him to break the lock of his 
gaze on her. God, she thought, there wasn't the slightest trace of 
embarrassment in his easy manner. What if he forced her into doing things 
she wasn't ready to do yet? Her whole plan might just backfire on her. 

"Come on, what do you say we get going?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows 
to indicate a bedroom somewhere on the upper floor. 

So this is how it happens, she mused. There was nothing really romantic 
about it. It was very businesslike, almost cold. Finishing her drink, she 
set it on the mantle of the fireplace behind her and did not even resist 
when he took her by the hand and led her up the steps. 

"Please, don't do anything..." she whispered without completing the 
sentence, but there was no trace of sympathy in his eyes. What had she 
expected? That she could act like some sort of young virgin who just 
happened to wander into the party, thinking it was a civic meeting or 
something? He knew better than that. This time she would really have to 
deliver. 

The walk up the stairs to the second floor was something like a stroll down 
a prison corridor to the electric chair for the innocent blonde wife. She 
did not know what was waiting for her behind the door at the end of the 
hallway. 

"What's the matter, baby?" Bill Boyer said, slipping his arm around her 
waist. "You don't look too pleased. Don't you know the rules? The newcomers 
always make it with the host the first night." 

"I... I didn't know that," she stammered, trying to avoid his eyes as he led 
her along the hallway. From behind the closed doors lining the hall on 
either side she could hear the sounds of lovemaking in progress - bedsprings 
creaking, soft moans that were growing louder and louder, gasping, mewling 
grunts coming at her from every direction. The harsh reality of the 
situation suddenly hit her, for now she realized that any minute she would 
be doing the same thing. She would be making love to a man she had never met 
before, and she would be doing everything that he commanded her to do. 

"Come on, Ann, just call me Bill," he said, giving her a firm pat on the 
buttocks. There was something so phony about the way he did it that she 
cringed, but nevertheless, a kind of calm resignation descended over her as 
he went ahead and opened the door at the bedroom at the end of the hall. She 
tried to blot out the imaginary picture of her husband having intercourse 
with Ethel Boyer in another room along this hall somewhere, tried to calm 
her emotions. 

Shutting the door behind them, Boyer flicked on a single dim light and led 
Ann over to the bed, where she sat down mechanically on the edge, her whole 
body and mind numb. 

"I . . . I'd like another drink first," she said finally. 

"Sure, I'll bring you some more of that French stuff... But don't think 
you're gonna have a chance to run away on me before I get back. You knew 
what you were getting into tonight. Otherwise, you wouldn't have come." 

He gave her a cold hard stare and went to the door to fetch a bottle and 
some glasses from the bar downstairs. She heard a key turning in the lock, 
but it did not panic her because she hadn't planned to flee anyway. No, she 
thought, she was going to stick it out tonight no matter what happened to 
her. Sighing in resignation, she lay back on the bed, gazing up at the 
ceiling, listening to the muffled grunting and whimpering noises which 
seemed to pervade the whole house. 

Somewhere, her husband was fucking another woman. She wondered exactly what 
it was like for him. Bob was much bigger than she, and Ethel Boyer had 
probably been very impressed by the size of his cock. Ethel would know how 
to use it too. She had probably seen hundreds of men's cocks and had known 
what to do with each one of them. Ann wondered too if in some strange manner 
she might turn out to be the same way. Whether somehow she would be 
transformed from a frigid inexperienced married woman into a raving slut who 
craved the penises of all the men in the neighborhood. She still shuddered 
to think of it, but not as much as she would have done even a week ago. 

Once again, the key turned in the lock, the door opened and Bill Boyer 
stepped inside, clutching a bottle of Pernod and two glasses. 

"You better not want anything else," he warned her, lurching slightly as he 
entered the room. 

"N-no, I just needed another drink." Without waiting, she hurriedly poured 
her own glass and gulped the contents halfway down much to his amazement. 

"Hey, you really like that stuff, don't you?" he grinned in surprise. 

The liquid flowed smoothly down her throat, cooling it and relaxing her all 
over. When it had settled she took another hefty swig and set the glass 
down. This time there was a buzz in her head, a tickling sensation that went 
all through her body. She'd had just enough to push her over the edge so 
that she was thoroughly drunk now, and for some reason her thoughts went 
back to her husband. 

"Where are Bob and Ethel . . . which room?" she inquired. 

Bill, standing only a few feet away from her, arms akimbo, gave her a 
lecherous smile. 

"What for? You want to see what they're doing? Maybe we could join 'em. 
It'll be more kicks that way." 

"No ... I didn't mean that!" she blurted confusedly. God, she couldn't think 
straight anymore. No, of course she hadn't meant that . . . She couldn't 
stand to be fucking another man in the same room where her husband was 
fucking another woman. It would destroy her, and yet . . . 

Funny tilings were happening inside her brain. The picture of what her 
husband was doing, what she imagined him to be doing, whirled faster and 
faster through her mind. She could see every lurid detail in technicolor, 
every noise they were making magnified. Yes, she did want to go into the 
same room they were in! She wanted to face everything, and she wanted to 
show Bob, pretend if she had to, that she was having a better time than he 
was. That was the only way she would get him back, the only way their 
marriage would be saved - when he suddenly became jealous of her and wanted 
her back! 

She did not resist now as he grasped her wrist and levied her up off the 
edge of the bed, led her along the hallway to another room and carefully 
crept inside. There were two still-clothed bodies on one of the single beds, 
but in the darkness of the room, Ann could not make out whose they were, 
could not be sure that one of them was really her husband's. She tried to 
squint her eyes to get a better view, but that was hopeless, and now Bill 
Boyer had suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her toward 
him as they stood at the doorway. 

At first she was taken off balance, but then an unanticipated thrill ran 
down her spine as his lips clamped wetly over hers and his tongue thrust in 
between her lips. She could feel herself trembling from the excitement of 
this stranger's kiss, and the last lingering traces of her doubt faded away. 
She could feel his eager penis jutting out from beneath the material of his 
trousers, pressing hard against her stomach as her nipples stiffened and 
strained against the confines of her lacy brassiere. All shame had fled and 
Ann knew for the first time now she was actually going to enjoy sex with 
another man. If only it could have been with her husband! 

"Goddamn! I want to fuck you," her host whispered hotly in her ear. 

"Yesss!" she purred. "Let's go. Now!" 

His obscene words seemed to stimulate her even more until she could feel a 
tiny trickling moisture flowing very slowly down onto her panty crotch band. 

The two people on the bed were oblivious to the presence of the two 
intruders lying down on the bed beside theirs. Ann was sure now that there 
had been no mistake. The two people were Bob and Ethel! Bob suddenly pivoted 
off his bed and began removing his clothes as Ethel grasped the hem of her 
dress and wriggled it off up over her arms. 

"Come on," Bill urged Ann, excited by the scene. "You take your clothes off 
too." 

"Shhh! I will in a minute. I want to see them first." 

Despite her bed partner's frustration, the young blonde continued watching 
now as Bob bent over the other bed, curled his arms around Ethel Boyer's 
back and unsnapped her brassiere, gliding the straps down off her shoulders. 

"I'm going to leave my shoes and stockings on," she heard Ethel say. 

In the darkness of the room only the shadow of Bob's muscular body was 
visible to Ann as her husband moved toward the bed to mount it once again. 
Even in the dark she could see the outline of his beautiful chest muscles, 
his powerful arms, and the thick staff of his desire-engorged penis jutting 
out between his legs. 

"That's it, baby," Ethel purred sensually. "Let's just start it nice and 
easy and work up to a big beautiful orgasm." 

"Hey, come on," Bill whispered hoarsely to Ann. "This is driving me crazy. I 
gotta get started before I blow my load." 

Without waiting for Ann's response, Boyer slipped his hand up her dress in 
between her voluptuous stocking-clad thighs, spreading them slightly apart 
until his fingertips grazed against her silken panty crotch and then moved 
up to cup the tender mound of her pussy. 

"Come on, take those clothes off. I wanna fuck!" 

Ann's hands trembled slightly with excitement as she obeyed his command and 
undid her dress. Twisting around on the mattress in the opposite direction 
from the other bed in the room, she pulled it off and let it drop on the 
floor in a heap. Then she curled her hands behind her and unhooked her 
brassiere, her stiff nippled breasts bursting loose into freedom as the 
lace-edged cups fell away. The cool air caused her nipples to tighten into 
even harder little points until they felt like tiny darts when her arm 
brushed against them. The brassiere lingered at the tips of her fingers for 
a moment and then it too floated down to the floor beside her abandoned 
dress. 

She was practically naked now, trembling with growing arousal as this 
perfect stranger feasted his eyes on her. Pimply chills crawled along her 
flesh, her passion rising within her alcohol-stimulated loins as she felt 
herself moving closer to the point of no return. Everything was going to be 
different now. She was going to fuck a stranger and enjoy it. And what was 
more she was going to do it in the same room with her own husband! Bob was 
going to see her doing it - doing it and enjoying it! 

As she hooked her thumbs into the wasitband of her lacy panties and slipped 
them down over her wide-flaring hips, she could see Bill Boyer undressing 
himself off by the side of the bed. 

"That's it, baby," he groaned. "That's the way to do it." 

He was naked now, standing beside her, his penis growing longer and harder 
as it pulsed lewdly between his legs and swayed like a jungle snake about to 
strike its prey. His swelling testicles looked like they belonged to a bull 
as they danced and jogged in the fleshy sac beneath his massive cock. God, 
he was big! He would split her in half, kill her, but there was no turning 
back now. 

In a moment Boyer was on the bed beside her, pulling her down next to his 
hot, naked body. She remained perfectly still for a long moment, obscene 
sensations running wickedly through her belly, as she tried to summon her 
conscience to prevent her from going through with this. But it was no use. 

Dropping his head to her roundly trembling breast, he seized it with one 
hand and sucked the dart-like nipple deep inside his warm, wet mouth. She 
groaned aloud and rocked her buttocks back and forth against the mattress as 
jabs of white lightning seared a path down to her exposed little pussy. Her 
brain spun crazily, but somewhere from deep inside her an instinctive fear 
forced her to push him away. 

"N-no, not so fast, Bill," she begged in a whisper. 

"What the hell are you talkin' about. You put me off long enough. Now we're 
gonna do it." Her arms held him at bay for a moment as she turned her head 
on the mattress and looked over at the other bed. She could see her husband 
up on his knees at one end, and Bill Boyer's wife, still wearing her 
stockings and garter belt as she bent forward on all fours and circled her 
lips obscenely around Bob's cock. She was just starting now, Ann could tell, 
knowing that the other woman was probably swirling her tongue around Bob's 
penis - exactly the perverse act Bob had asked her to do and Ann had 
refused! Bob's head was tilted back, his eyes apparently closed, and his 
fingers curled into Ethel's shadowy hair, jerking her head even tighter up 
against his loins. 

Ann could feel the moisture flowing even more freely in between her swollen 
pussy lips now, and her momentary fear had fled so that she let her arms 
drop back down to her sides. 

"Come on, let's get on with it," Bill growled as he pushed her back along 
the bedspread and mounted over her. The touch of the smooth cool silk 
against her back made electrical sensations pulse up and down the young 
blonde's spine. She could feel the bed sagging as he moved up on his knees, 
holding his thickly throbbing penis in his fist. She was certain now that 
Bob and Ethel could hear them, and even if they weren't paying attention 
right now, they certainly would be in a moment! 

Ann waited expectantly as Bill lowered himself down over her, his bulging 
member pressing hotly into the tender flesh of her belly, smearing her navel 
with the droplets of his thick white semen. She quivered involuntarily from 
the sudden wet contact and squirmed beneath him as a twitch of desire pulsed 
through her loins. 

"Ooooooh, yes, yes!" she sighed, spurring him on. Not for a moment did she 
forget that her own husband was in the same room with them, on the very next 
bed, and she was determined to make him realize that she was here too! 
Reaching down under the heavy male body that lay atop her own, she grasped 
her neighbor's hot-shafted cock tightly between her fingers, giving it a 
slight squeeze so that it jerked back reflexively in response. As she slid 
her hand down to its hair-smothered base, he groaned and lurched against 
her. And then she began moving her fingers up and down in a slow sensual 
rhythm designed to tease him until he couldn't stand it any longer. 

"Goddamn, I'm gonna screw you good, baby," he swore down at her, the veins 
bulging in his temples and a light film of sweat forming on his forehead. 
"You're gonna get this cock of mine so far up inside your little pussy, 
you're gonna scream." 

There was no question that Bob had missed hearing this, but still Ann 
couldn't look over to be sure . . . not now, not at this moment. He must 
know by now that she was lying only a few feet away from him, he had to! 

She let loose a loud groan now as Bill suddenly clamped his lips back over 
her roundly quivering breast and bit down on the taut little nipple, his 
lips sucking hard on the warm-fleshed mound, while his tongue swirled around 
the trembling point with the quickness of a lizard. 

She clenched her eyes tightly shut, and when she re-opened them a moment 
later, she realized that the sucking noises from the other bed had come to 
an abrupt halt, replaced by fast panting gasps. 

"Come on. let me finish sucking you off, Bob!" a female voice begged, and 
after a few seconds' silence, the wet slavering noises resumed. Bob was 
groaning now as though in pain, his hips jerking back and forth in the air 
and his ass-cheeks rotating as he knelt and thrust forward frenziedly into 
Ethel's willing mouth. Ann's eyes were locked on the salacious spectacle 
across from her, but at the same time she was conscious of her own nipples 
being crazily sucked and licked, making her body come alive with a mad 
desire that was threatening to go out of control. 

Bill Boyer's hungry lips were moving tantalizingly from one breast to the 
other now, biting down on each, sucking the quivering flesh greedily inside 
his mouth as he played on the nipples with his tongue. 

After endless minutes of this salacious feast, he rocked back on his 
haunches, his tongue trailing wetly down over her heaving white belly until 
it reached her blonde-fringed pussy lips. Ann felt her legs being spread 
insistently apart, her skin caressing the silken spread as Bill's hands 
gripped tightly against her inner thighs. She gave no resistance at all but 
merely drew in her breath, holding it tense inside her chest, waiting, 
waiting to see what obscene depraved things her host was going to do to her. 
She jumped slightly as his tongue flicked forward, the pointed tip darting 
out to titillate the tiny hidden bud of her clitoris. 

"Oooooh God, that feels good!" she mewled, her body writhing under the madly 
stimulating attack on her loins. Her legs involuntarily spasmed farther 
apart, and she drew her knees up toward her chest so that her loins were 
presented open to him like a sacrificial offering. In and out his tongue 
darted, sending tremors of unknown pleasure teasing through her belly. God, 
she had never thought before that anything could be this exciting, this 
beautiful. She wanted more of it now, more! He wouldn't dare stop, not now 
when he'd just begun. 

"Okay, roll over and get up on your hands and knees. I'm gonna fuck you like 
a dog." 

"N-no, don't stop what you're doing now. P-please suck my cunt," she begged 
drunkenly. "I need it, I need it." 

"Do what I say, baby. Roll over and do it like a dog. You listen to me." 

Ann knew at last that there was no use resisting, that he was in complete 
control, and she had to do anything he wanted. Compliantly she turned over 
and raised herself up until she was in a position like a she-bitch waiting 
to be fucked by a strong male dog who had caught her scent. She felt his 
fingers begin to dig into her firm-fleshed buttocks, kneading it like dough 
in preparation for the painful entry that she knew was going to come. She 
felt his thumbs slip into the narrow crevice between her ass-cheeks and pry 
them apart as the middle finger of each hand played teasingly with her pussy 
lips below, drawing more and more droplets of moisture from deep within her 
loins. 

With this moisture, Boyer wet an outstretched forefinger and then, gliding 
slowly, slid it up and down in the crack of her buttocks so that she jumped 
forward in surprise. He groaned something incomprehensible, reveling in the 
ecstasy of this ripe young body trapped before him, the young girl's ass 
just waiting for something to be done to it, waiting for his cock to ram 
inside it and split it apart. 

The tip of his finger circled maddeningly around her tight nether ring now, 
then dropped down for more lubricating moisture from her pussy beneath. 
There was enough now, by God there was enough, and he was going to shove his 
finger in, he told himself. He held it poised, resting lightly at the tiny 
puckered opening of her anus, and then suddenly he moved sharply forward. 

It was a sudden unexpected jerk that sank his finger deep inside Ann's 
virginal anus, and the startled blonde bucked forward as Bill clamped his 
hand around under her belly to try holding her in place. 

"Aaaaaaagh, God!" she blurted out, choking back a scream that nearly burst 
her throat. No matter how bad it pained her she couldn't let Bob hear. He 
had to think she was enjoying every second of it, even this torturous 
probing of her innocent rectum. Muffled groans of protest burbled from her 
lips as Bill's finger wormed deeper and deeper, expanding her tightly 
clenched anus, spreading her sphincter muscles wider and wider apart. Then 
just at the moment when she felt the pain diminish slightly he shoved 
another finger inside, taking her breath away in a sharp, surprised gasp. 
Without waiting, he began to saw in and out of her wide-stretched nether 
passage, and there was nothing she could do but submit to him and pretend 
she was enjoying all this. She bent her head down, her short blonde hair 
reaching nearly to the bedspread beneath, her eyes clenched shut hard as if 
to brace herself for the next painful thrust. 

"Jesus, your asshole feels like a cherry," Boyer exclaimed, reveling in 
savage ecstasy as he prepared her aching back passage for the greater entry 
of his throbbing cock. The two fingers probed into her for long painful 
minutes, and then popped out again with a lewd hissing noise. 

"Please stop, Bill. No!" she whispered desperately back at him, trying to 
suppress the volume of her voice so that her husband couldn't hear her 
protests. 

"Don't worry, I'm just gonna open you up a little back there," he sneered, 
shuffling closer up behind her on the bed. 

Throwing a quick glance at the couple on. the other bed, he saw they were 
locked in the throes of their own torrid lovemaking, so that her husband 
couldn't possibly protest when his young wife got a good solid cock rammed 
up her ass. 

As for Ann, she had been trying to steel herself for even the lewdest things 
imaginable, but she was not quite ready for this - not yet. Even in her 
drunken fog she knew it was inhuman! The very thought that someone was going 
to make love to her back there made her blood run cold in fear in spite of 
all the mental preparations she had made. 

Reacting against the terrifying thought, she clenched her legs and buttocks 
tightly together. His two fingers had been bad enough! Now if he actually 
tried to force his enormous cock inside, her insides would be damaged beyond 
repair. Despite her efforts, she could feel his hands prying her unprotected 
ass-cheeks apart once again, the cool air of the room swooshing in between 
the voluptuous mounds with a rush. She was open and exposed to him, and no 
matter how desperately she resisted, he was going to take her there. 

Tears of shame and fright streamed from the whimpering blonde's eyes as the 
reality of what was happening dawned on her. She was going to be fucked like 
an animal, and she couldn't protest in the least for fear that her husband 
would hear. What a terrible sacrifice, but she had to do it to save her 
marriage, and that was the only thing that prevented her from breaking 
suddenly away and dashing madly from the darkened bedroom. 

From the moment that long stiff cock of his wormed its way into her tender 
rectum, she knew she would never be the same person. She would never be able 
to face anyone again. And though she cringed away from him, she knew the 
attempt was useless, for now the sweating palm of his hand was pressing 
firmly against her shoulders, holding her head down, while his other hand 
around her belly kept her steady. 

With a grunt, Bill spread her thighs wider apart, using his knees as a 
lever. Then he dropped his head to lick wetly at the widespread crevice 
before him, moistening the cringing little opening there for the immense 
penetration it was going to receive. 

"Wiggle it, baby," he growled encouragingly, anticipating the ultimate 
subjugation of this young and tender body. He was sure Ann Wylie hardly knew 
what she was doing, that she'd had very little experience in the sack, but 
the thought of her innocence excited him even more. She was married all 
right, but she was practically a virgin, and he hadn't had a virgin in a 
long time. He was already glowing with the idea of introducing this pretty 
young housewife to pleasures she'd never experienced before. 

Ann felt the older man's hand on her buttocks suddenly move down in a cup 
under her curl-covered pussy mound and lift swiftly upward so that now her 
ass-cheeks were lifted high in the air, her head pressed low against the 
bedspread. Her anal flesh throbbed in dread anticipation, and her whole body 
quivered nakedly with excitement, as she wondered whether it would be 
possible to take his heavy blood-swollen penis into her rectum. 

Regardless of how terrible it would be, she made up her mind that she was 
going to be brave and let Bob think that she was actually going to enjoy 
this unnatural lovemaking. If she failed to see it through now, it would 
just prove to him that she was a coward, that she was afraid of men and sex. 
As degrading as it was, Bill Boyle's anal rape just might have a beneficial 
effect ... oh God, she certainly hoped so! 

Grasping impatiently at Ann's upthrust hips. Bill held them steady as he 
wagged his massive cock-head forward into the moist naked slit of her 
buttocks and held it throbbing and pulsing in heated menace against her 
cowering rectal entrance. She gasped in surprise at the warm wet contact and 
jerked forward, moaning into the bedspread. Oh God, it would never fit! It 
was much too thick. It would split her apart! In renewed terror, her ass 
cheeks waved lewdly in the air, churning and rotating in lascivious circles 
as the blunt-nosed tip of Bill's mighty cock poised at the tiny slit, ready 
to ram forward and split her apart. The bristly hair of his legs brushed 
against the backs of her wide-held thighs as his penis dribbled viscous 
droplets of over-eager pre-cum into the rubbery opening of her anus. 

His thumbs hooked around beside his jerking cock and pried her trembling 
ass-cheeks wider apart until she mewled and gasped from the stretched-open 
feeling. He began probing slowly into her, the mushroom-like head of his 
penis insinuating itself slowly forward as her sphincter muscles clasped 
palpitatingly against it in futile protest. Her ass-cheeks spasmed together, 
holding his penis in place, but with another sudden throb, they were 
abruptly split apart, and he entered her a smooth two inches. 

"Augghhh!" Ann cried out. "No, wait, I . . . awhhh!" 

Another lunge, and his cock popped up inside her with a quick jerk. Ann 
swallowed a scream of pure pain, grinding her face down against the mattress 
in bitter anguish. She groaned again, but the choked pleas of her torment 
went unheeded. There was no help anywhere. She was alone in the world and 
had to bear what was being done to her or else her husband would never want 
her again. The blunt intrusion of Bill Boyer's punishing member made her 
anus throb with excruciating pain. It seemed to be searing through every 
fiber of her body, its leaking fluid soaking her asshole and lubricating it 
so that he could force it wider and wider. 

Boyer chuckled as he began a rhythmic pumping motion in and out of her 
savaged anus, breathing heavily and grunting with each thrust he made into 
her aching back passage, wallowing in the humiliation he was making her 
submit to. She moaned, her neck stretched out, her eyes wide open, and the 
cords in her throat standing out in her attempt not to cry. His lustfully 
pulsating cock was buried up to the hilt now inside her tender virginal 
rectum, throbbing and quivering with brute male strength as it splayed her 
sphincters wider and wider apart. He was skewering her, impaling her, and 
she'd never felt so used and debauched in her life. 

Not even her own husband's cruel rape of her body on the living room floor 
had been this obscene and salacious. He had been crude and violent, it was 
true, but he had still done things the proper way. And now, now she was 
being forced to act like a degraded animal, to sacrifice her 
never-before-touched anus to the perverted lusts of a perfect stranger. 

Her neighbor leered down at her sensually wiggling ass-cheeks like a 
perverted maniac, a lewd grin twisting his face as his punishing cock lunged 
back and forth into her open rear passage from behind. He was grunting and 
growling, his hairy chest heaving as he gasped for air. Even in the somber 
darkness of the room he could see how his penis was pulling the thin folds 
of her anal flesh out on the backstroke and ramming them back in again as he 
bucked forward. 

Ann wished she could just melt into oblivion. This horrendous fucking of her 
ass was driving her insane with tortured pain. 

Lee Bates wanted to surprise his wife. Though he'd been gone for a week on a 
business trip, he decided not to call her, even though that had always been 
his practice in the past. This time he just wanted to drop in and spend a 
pleasant evening at home with her. 

Not that he hadn't spent some pleasant evenings in the past week, but they 
had been with his secretary in a motel room in Arlington, Virginia. Now as 
he wended his way through the airport toward a taxi stand outside, he was 
thinking only of Myra. They had a good solid relationship with each other, 
but he had never told her about his extra-curricular affairs, which had been 
going on for years now. 

When at last he arrived home after a long and arduous taxi ride, he 
discovered to his surprise that all the lights in the house were off. 
Entering the kitchen he found no clue as to her whereabouts until he saw a 
note scribbled on a pad by the kitchen telephone. The name Boyer had been 
written down, and beside it a telephone number. 

For a moment he was puzzled. Boyer? Could it be Bill Boyer who lived three 
blocks over, the one who owned that big used car agency? But was Myra over 
there now? And doing what? Boyer's wife Ethel had always seemed to Lee to be 
too flashy a dame for his Myra. But perhaps she'd made some new friends in 
his absence. Out of curiosity, he picked up the phone, dialed the number and 
waited an inordinately long time for someone to answer. 

It was a man who spoke in a loud slurring voice so that he could be heard 
above the confused noise in the background. It was obvious there was some 
kind of party going on. 

"Hello," Lee said casually. "Is Myra Bates there? This is her husband." 

"Myra who?" the voice shouted back. 

"Myra Bates, she has long black hair and wears sexy dresses." 

"Listen, buddy, there are a lot of Myra Bateses here. Everybody here is 
called Myra Bates except for the guys, and they're not called Myra Bates." 

"Okay, okay. Never mind. It sounds like you're having a good party over 
there." 

"Sure," he drawled. "Come on over, but bring your wife. You gotta bring your 
wife." 

"I can't bring my wife," Lee said calmly, "if she's already there." 

Ten minutes later, he was pulling his Pontiac into the already-crowded 
driveway of the imposing three-story colonial modern house. He could hear 
the noise, all right, but the house was anything but blazing with lights - 
only a few lights being turned on on the first floor. He rang the bell, and 
the door was opened by the man whom he'd apparently talked to on the phone, 
a man in his early thirties, dressed in a striped shirt, the top two buttons 
undone, the tie pulled askew, and wearing no trousers, his shirt-tails 
drooping over his naked legs. 

"Hi, I'm Lee Bates," he said once again in a disarming way. 

"You're the one who's looking for his wife, aren't you" 

"That's right." 

"Well, I don't know where she is. She's probably somewhere around here. 
Don't worry about it, though, there are plenty of chicks here." 

As Lee entered the living room he found that the man was right. There were 
plenty of women around, and all were in a state of partial or total undress, 
doing some heavy petting with their escorts. They were on sofas and on the 
floor, fondling each other or openly fucking and sucking. 

"Well, I'll be goddamned." Lee swore to himself in an undertone of amusement 
as he fixed himself a drink at the bar. When he had taken a few sips, he 
decided to wander around a bit and check things out for himself. He'd never 
expected to walk into something like this, and it was quite a pleasant 
surprise, bringing back memories of the week he'd spent in the motel room 
with that hot little secretary of his. At least once a day he'd partaken of 
her charms, but his appetite never seemed to be satisfied, and now it was 
easily reawakened by the spectacle he'd walked in on in the living room. 

So, this is what Myra did, he thought. She went to orgies while he was away. 
He'd had a good idea, of course, that she'd been screwing around for quite 
some time, but the fact that she enjoyed group activities was news to him. 
It didn't particularly bother him either, because he knew Myra was always 
interested in doing new things, and she was the type who didn't just talk 
about it but went ahead and did them. 

Mounting the stairs to the second floor, he strolled down the corridor, 
savoring the lovely slurping, moaning noises that were coming from behind 
the closed doors. So downstairs in the living room wasn't the only place 
people were having fun, he remarked to himself. 

In a moment a tall, vixenish redhead emerged from one of the rooms and 
greeted him. 

"Hi there, sweetheart," she cooed, lurching drunkenly toward him. She was 
wearing a disheveled mini-slip that barely covered her thin black panties, 
and his eyes fixed on the bulging pubic mound between her legs. 

"Hello yourself," he smiled back at her. "Have you seen my wife by any 
chance? Myra Bates ..." 

"Oh dear, you're not really looking for your wife, are you? Nobody's 
sleeping with his wife tonight. Are you sure you're a member of the club? 
I've never seen you before." 

"Club? Of course I'm a member. I wouldn't be here unless I was, right?" 

So this was a club, he realized. Well, Myra was certainly getting formal. 
She'd never been the club-joining type - whether it was a bridge club or a 
community association, she always preferred to go it alone. But then, there 
were clubs, and there were clubs. 

The idea of Myra joining a mate-swapping club amused Lee no end. Why hadn't 
she told him about it, or perhaps she figured he was getting enough on the 
side through his own efforts. Well, for whatever reason, it was going to be 
fun to drop in and surprise her tonight. 

"Are you sure you're a club member?" the redhead said, eyeing him 
quizzically. "I really don't remember you at all." 

"I'd certainly remember you if I saw you," he retorted gamely. "But look, we 
can talk about that later. Right now I'm looking for my wife. Tall, black 
hair, probably wearing some sort of low-cut dress." 

"Oh yeah, I think I did meet her. Don't know where she is now, though, so 
why don't you come spend a little time with me, huh?" 

"Not right now, doll. Maybe in half an hour." 

"Suit yourself," she said with a shrug, and moved on toward the stairs. 

Lee grinned to himself, Myra sure worked fast, didn't she? In truth, this 
took a good load of worry off his mind, though. He loved his wife, but he'd 
been screwing around for years, and now at last they were going to admit 
openly that they were both doing the same thing and enjoying it. 

Creeping stealthily forward, he decided he was going to try every door until 
he came to the right room and then just hang around for a while to see what 
was happening. The drink he still had in his hand was starting to work. It 
was relaxing hi'm, keeping him good and loose, which was the only way to be 
if you happened to walk in on a swap party where your wife was undoubtedly 
one of the star participants. 

After two false starts, he got a room he thought was right on the third try. 
In the darkness he could hear a woman's breathy voice coming from one of the 
twin beds, even though while standing at the doorway he could not actually 
see her. It had to be Myra. There was another couple on the closest bed too, 
and judging from the pale hair it was none other than their new neighbor, 
Ann Wylie. What the hell was she doing in a place like this? She'd always 
struck him as something of an incorrigible virgin, even though she was newly 
married. 

A feverish charge of excitement pulsed through his loins and he took another 
sip of his drink to help maintain his cool. 

The sounds of low moans and sensual sucking noises were flooding his ears, 
but still he couldn't see anything clearly, and so he left the door open a 
crack and eased his way farther inside the bedroom. 

As his eyes adjusted to the faint illumination he could see it wasn't Myra 
but Bill Boyer's wife on the far bed, down on all fours as she sucked Bob 
Wylie's cock, her head bobbing rhythmically over the lust-lengthened cock as 
though she were trying to stuff the whole thing down her throat. Hell, it 
didn't surprise him a bit. He didn't know Ethel Boyer very well, but he'd 
sensed all along from just casual glances that she was a red-hot number that 
would do anything for anybody. 

The Wylie kid was obviously having the time of his life certainly a better 
time than he'd had in Alaska drilling rocks. His head was thrown back, his 
fingers grabbing her temples and he was moaning like a sick dog, yelping 
every time she swished her tongue around his bulbous cock-head. Hell, he'd 
thought about getting inside her pants for a long time, but he was home so 
infrequently he'd hardly had a chance. He liked the way she was still 
wearing her stockings and high-heeled shoes too. That added a certain 
excitement to the game. 

Curious to see what was happening on the other bed, he turned his gaze to 
it. Jesus, Bill Boyer was really going to town. He had that Ann Wylie 
doubled up on her belly and he was going into her ass like a pile-driver as 
she moaned and screamed at the brutal assault. Holy hell, how had Boyer ever 
gotten his paws on that innocent young wench, how had he ever gotten her 
over to this party? Strange things happened in the neighborhood when Lee was 
gone - that much was certain. Obviously somebody had driven a wedge between 
those two young marrieds, but that wasn't his problem. The very sight that 
confronted his eyes was turning him on no end, and now he was looking for 
the first opportunity to join in the fray. 

Christ, if he'd only known all along what he'd learned tonight! 

His eyes riveted on the young blonde, fascinated by the lewd position she 
was in, fascinated by the degradation and humiliation of it, but also 
because she seemed to be coming around to enjoying it. He felt his cock jerk 
and stiffen, straining against the confines of his trousers, tiny droplets 
of semen leaking out from the head as he became more and more aroused by the 
salacious dual spectacle of a blow-job and an ass-fuck being performed in 
the same room only feet away. Goddamn, that voluptuous little blonde was 
driving him crazy. 

He had to have a go at her . . . Now, not ten minutes from now, but this 
very moment. And the hell with Myra. 

Impulsively he began ripping his clothes off, dropping his suitcoat off his 
shoulders to the floor, jerking his tie loose, stepping out of his pants. He 
finished his drink hurriedly and dropped the glass harmlessly to the thick 
carpet to facilitate his hasty disrobing. 

"Goddamn," he whispered excitedly to himself. "I'm gonna get laid tonight." 

Bill Boyer's straining belly smacked like leather against young Ann Wylie's 
smoothly quivering buttocks as he lunged into her anus with a brutal thrust. 
His cum-inflated balls banged bull-like against her nakedly unprotected 
pussy, and she whimpered but did not try to pull away from him. She was his 
slave now .. . she would do anything he wanted, and any moment now he knew 
she was going to start enjoying it, was suddenly going to come to life and 
demand more of what he had to give. 

Ann began to push back slowly at first to meet her virile host's forward 
lunges, trying to fake her pleasure, until suddenly something snapped inside 
her mind. The pain was seeping away. It didn't hurt any longer as it had, 
and she knew she wanted this strange man's cock plowing into her rectum, 
splitting her tender body wider and wider apart. Nothing seemed to matter 
except the electric shocks of pleasure that were rippling through her belly 
and spreading out to her extremities, making her tingle with easy desire in 
every pore. Naked abandon had replaced the shame she had been fighting 
against earlier. All her excuses were gone. She was not doing this for her 
husband now, she was doing it for herself, hungrily soaking up the raw 
pleasure that had so long been denied her because of her prudish attitude. 

Her uncontrollable spasms of delight grew wilder and more enthusiastic with 
each advance his rigidly stabbing penis made in between the cheeks of her 
quivering ass. She began gasping out obscene words she had never used 
before, and they were tumbling from her lips without remorse or hesitation. 

Bill Boyer sensed her sudden breakthrough into desire and he fucked into her 
with longer, deeper strokes, his hands pressing her whitely rounded 
ass-cheeks together to make a tight-fitting glove of flesh for his throbbing 
hot cock. His eyes bulged wide at the gratifying sight of her youthful body 
responding to his obscene . aggression, he gritted histeeth together and his 
muscles strained as he worked toward an orgasm that he knew was going to 
come very soon. 

"Aw www, awww God!" she groaned, smothering her face in the mattress, her 
fingers clawing passionately at the disheveled bedspread. 

She paused only a second, then began bucking back at him in a continuous 
rotating rhythm. She was barely conscious of the bed sagging in front of 
her, and from out of nowhere fingers grasping one of her breasts, teasing 
her nipple until it stiffened defensively. A tremor of delight quivered 
through her belly at this welcome intrusion. 

"Here's something else for ya," a gruff male voice growled at her. Raising 
her head, Ann opened her eyes to behold a huge spear-like penis tilted 
menacingly at her mouth. It was throbbing and pulsating but it looked so 
delicious she. just wanted to clamp her lips around it and suck for all she 
was worth. 

"Go ahead, suck it," Lee Bates urged her, a wide grin lighting his face. 
"Suck it just the way Ethel's doin' it to your husband." 

Though this was the moment when she felt she should be paralyzed by fear and 
dread, there was nothing but abandoned pleasure surging through her skewered 
body. She knew she was going to suck a strange man's cock while another man 
fucked her in the ass, and she was going to enjoy every lewd and obscene 
second of it! On the other bed she could see her husband in the beginning 
throes of his orgasm, bucking and thrusting his hips as he plunged his 
pounding cock into Ethel Boyer's voracious throat. When they had finished, 
Bob would realize what was happening on the bed just across from him. He 
would realize that his sweet little wife who was so afraid of sex was 
actually enjoying herself as she was used and abused by two men, two total 
strangers. 

Ann was even surprising herself now with her own audacity as she ground her 
buttocks back to meet Bill Boyer's rampaging cock. At the same time, she 
reached up with one hand and teased the tip of the quivering cock in front 
of her until Lee Bates moved closer to her on his knees. Her mouth was only 
a few inches away from him now, and she glided her tongue along her lips to 
prepare herself for the delicious feast that was about to be served. Opening 
wide, she breathed softly, allowing her hot breath to flow tantalizingly 
over the head. 

"Goddamn, you really know how to do it," he groaned ecstatically. "Come on, 
suck it, suck it hard!" 

But she was not ready to do it yet. She was going to tease him instead until 
he begged her for her mouth around his cock. Her tongue flicked out now like 
a tiny lizard's tongue, and she wormed it into the moist little slit of the 
throbbing tip. Her lips nibbled slightly at the mushroom-like head, and then 
she swirled her tongue along the sperm-ridged underside. It jerked as though 
it had a life of its own, as though it were some sort of powerful snake, 
ready to strike in a quick reflex action. 

The sharp pungent taste of male flesh made her mouth water and her nostrils 
flare. Her hand slid down to the thick coarse-haired base, and she stroked 
her fingers teasingly over the bloated sac of his balls beneath. She began 
kissing his cock now, the top and bottom and all along the sides, as if it 
were a strange new food that she were tasting for the first time in her 
life. She wanted to explore and savor every inch of it before she finally 
took it all deep within her hungering mouth. 

Lee Bates could stand it no longer. He suddenly reached out and twisted his 
fingers tightly into her short blonde hair and jerked her face toward his 
hips. She resisted at first... it had been too abrupt, too sudden, but she 
couldn't stop now. The man's thickly quivering cock-head crushed in between 
her teeth and jerked upward against the roof of her mouth. She clenched her 
eyes shut and mewled ecstatically as her lips closed in a firm band around 
the midsection of the fleshy male staff. 

"Oh yeah, baby! Suck harder!" Lee groaned, pulling her close. In response, 
Ann began to pump her mouth madly up and down on the impaling rod of flesh, 
her lewdly ovalled lips clasping and unclasping in obscene tempo. 

Bob Wylie had never thought a blow job could last so long or be so good. 
Ethel Boyer was one hell of an expert, that was for sure. She'd had him so 
wrapped up that he had hardly taken notice of the three people going to town 
on the bed next to theirs. He'd heard some gasps and grunts and seen some 
naked bodies, but that was all. Who they were and what they were doing, he 
couldn't have cared less about while Ethel was sucking his cock. 

Now, though, she had brought him to orgasm, and he'd spewed his hot stored 
cum down her throat and left trails of it dribbling down her cheeks. Falling 
back on the bed, he watched as she wiped the last traces of it away and took 
deep heavy breaths to recover from the tense excitement of what they'd just 
done. 

He wondered where Ann was now and who she'd gone off with. And in truth, 
even though he wanted her to loosen up and enjoy sex, he could feel jealousy 
rising in him at the thought of her being screwed by another man. But maybe 
she had just backed out and gone home at the first opportunity to slip away. 
Well, if she'd done that, there was going to be big trouble, because he 
wasn't going to put up with that old-fashioned prudery of hers any longer. 

"Hey, come on," Ethel said from her end of the bed. "I did you, now it's 
your turn to do me. This is no one-way street, you know." 

"I'm just taking a rest," the young engineer replied. "I'll be ready in a 
minute." 

"You're not much of a sport. Your wife is still going strong." 

"My wife? What are you talking about?" 

"She's right over there. Who did you think that was? She's doing a pretty 
good job for a new member." 

For the first time, Bob realized that the blonde woman in the tangle of 
bodies on the other bed was his wife. He still couldn't see her face very 
well, but he was sure that's who it was. God almighty! She was having her 
ass fucked while she gave Myra Bates's husband one hell of a blow job, and 
the incredible thing was she looked like she was having a grand time. She 
was fucking and sucking like a wild she-bitch. 

He could see her grinding her ass back against one neighbor and then lunging 
forward to get the most from the other neighbor's cock. Jesus, his own wife 
had become the neighborhood whore! Everyone else was satisfied with one 
partner, and here she was taking on two on her very first performance at the 
club! Bob sat forward on the edge of the bed to get a better view of the 
salacious spectacle, eyeing the nakedly writhing trio on the next bed to 
make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. 

No, it was no dream ... it was all happening right there in front of him, no 
matter how incredible it seemed. His young wife's face was twisted with 
complete abandon, her body was bucking and churning, and she was completely 
lost in the obscene gymnastics she was performing with two men. God, how 
dumb he'd been to be worried about her. She was doing better than he'd done. 
Maybe she'd been faking he; problems with him all along and had already gone 
to these swap parties with Myra Bates. But why? Was there something wrong 
with him, with the way he performed? He'd never thought about that before, 
and the very idea made him suddenly angry. Jesus, hadn't Ethel just chided 
him a moment ago for being a spoil sport? Hadn't she said that his wife was 
doing better than he was? 

God, he couldn't believe his eyes. There she was only a few feet away 
crooning and mewling, ramming her asshole against Bill Boyer's penis as she 
sucked frenziedly on Lee Bates's at the same time. Bob's anger made his face 
flush now as he realized he'd never been able to make Ann perform like this 
himself. 

"I wish were over there now," Ethel pouted, interrupting his concentration 
on the scene. She reached over and tried to pull him back on the mattress 
beside her, but with a sudden rage, he shoved her hands away. He could feel 
his own cock rising up hard from his loins again, looming up between his 
legs, and he didn't want to miss a second of what was going on. God, it 
looked like Boyer's prick was embedded in Ann's ass all the way to the hilt. 
How could she take it back there? She must have had some practice somewhere 
. . . with someone else! There was just no other answer. 

Bob wasn't the only one gazing in fascination on the scene, though, for now 
the doorway was flung open and Myra Bates was standing in it stark naked and 
looking for action, her lustrous black hair flowing down over her shoulders. 

"Well, what do you know?" she purred in a low conspiratorial tone. Her dark 
eyes were wide with glee as she saw her young female protegee working like a 
slave to satisfy the needs of two lust-hungry men. She had never expected 
Ann to catch on this quickly, but that just went to show that nobody could 
really predict anyone else's behavior. Leaving the doorway she slinked over 
to the foot of the bed where Ann's husband was observing the scene. 

"I bet you're surprised too," she whispered to him. "That's my husband over 
there with his prick in her mouth. I have no idea where he came from - he 
never knew about our club before, you know. But he's certainly caught on 
pretty quickly - just like your wife." 

At this, Ethel Boyer burst out into laughter, and Bob turned toward her 
glaring. These two women were making a fool of him now, he realized. Even 
his own wife had made a fool of him, pretending to be frigid and 
inexperienced when for some months now she must have been screwing everyone 
in the neighborhood. 

As these thoughts ran through the young engineer's mind, a thrashing sound 
and a long moan of agony came from the other single bed. They all watched 
intently as the two men sped up the pace of their dual fucking into young 
Ann Wylie's voluptuously gyrating body. From his position, Bob could hear 
heavy breathing quickening by the second, building to a powerfulcrescendo. 

Damn, he wanted to fuck her now too . . . more than ever. He wanted to make 
her respond to him the way she was responding to the two other men who had 
her so obscenely impaled from both ends. The thought of driving his 
blood-hardened cock deep into her wetly palpitating loins was sending sparks 
of electricity up and down his spine, making him tremble with passionate 
desire. 

"Aaaaaaagh!" Ann moaned as she felt her anus splayed apart by one last 
ass-crushing lunge. The huge bloated cock was practically penetrating to her 
tonsils now. Suddenly it quivered and jerked, spewing its hot sperm 
violently into her forever-stretched nether passage. Once, twice, three 
times it jerked, sending flood after viscous flood of searjng male cum 
shooting far up inside her tender rectum. She moaned and mewled, her body 
undulating around it in a savage dance of mounting desire. 

Something strange was taking place inside the awakened blonde wife, a 
beautiful tingling feeling that was traveling all through her cock-filled 
insides. A sensation that was charging her nerves until she thought she 
would explode. 

She began to grunt around the massive penis buried thickly in her throat, 
grunting incomprehensible words of encouragement and joy. Then, finally, she 
could feel it beginning to react. 

She could feel a twitching tremor inside her own fever-pitched loins, her 
pussy lips palpitating furiously as warm flowing moisture of her arousal 
poured down out of her empty cunt. At the very moment of her orgasm, the man 
behind her withdrew his now-deflated cock from her ravaged anus and fell 
back on the bed with a groan. Now she could concentrate on the cock in her 
mouth, sucking on it until it too erupted and sent its hot fire flooding 
down her throat. Any second he was going to cum, and her head bobbed wildly 
up and down on his stiffly throbbing organ, urging him over into the climax 
of his passion. She was hungry with lust now, possessed by it, and she 
worked like a demon to bring him to orgasm. Sucking faster and faster to 
keep pace with his powerful thrusts, she could hear him groaning and 
swearing above her, and could feel his fingers digging into her temple as he 
manipulated her head back and forth. 

Lee Bates's eyes bulged as he gazed down at his slaving blonde neighbor in 
total amazement. He'd never had anything like this before. She was an 
absolute animal, the way she was sucking his cock. With a sudden spasmodic 
motion, then, his overtaxed penis abruptly jerked, and a boiling stream of 
his semen spewed out into her voracious mouth. 

"Aaaaaaaaaagh God!" he swore as he tilted his head back and clenched his 
eyes shut. 

Ann sucked madly, her cheeks puffing and hollowing, as she swallowed the 
gushing male cum. The cords in her neck stood out, her Adam's apple bobbed 
up and down, and she mewled and gasped with the effort. The flow was 
slacking off now - she had swallowed every drop, but still she persisted, 
swirling her tongue around and around the man's deflated cock-head, licking 
him clean of the tiny driblets that continued to trickle out. 

His groans of pleasure slowly diminished, and he released his grip on her 
head, withdrawing his limp penis from between her lips. She had plunged to 
the depths of degradation now, she realized, but she still wanted more. She 
felt like a whore, a slut! It must have been in her all along, but it had 
only been brought out through Myra and her mate-swapping club. She would 
never be the same again. This much she knew, and yet she was pleased by it. 
At last she was free! 

Ann maintained her all-fours position on the bed even as the two men tumbled 
off to the sides of the mattress in utter exhaustion. Lewd driblets of cum 
covered her lips and flowed out of h"r anus down the backs of her thighs. 
She had been used and abused, and yet she still wanted more. She still 
needed a big hard cock inside her. 

"Well, look at that," Myra exclaimed in amazement. "She outlasted both of 
them, and she still needs more." 

Ann, hearing these words, kept her eyes tightly shut. Now that it was over, 
her guilt had suddenly returned. She knew her husband was watching her, and 
yet she couldn't face him yet, in spite of all she'd wanted to prove. 

Bob, for his part, was almost completely numb. He was frozen to the edge of 
the other bed, his hands tightly gripped to the sides of the mattress. No 
words could come to his tongue for the moment. 

It was Myra who spoke first, addressing her husband. 

"That was excellent, Lee. You gave a wonderful performance. I think maybe 
the club will accept you as a member." 

"Well, thank you," Lee replied, not for a moment losing his composure. 
"That's quite a compliment, coming from you. I heard you're quite an expert 
at fucking the neighbors." 

Someone in the room flicked the lights on, and Ann opened her eyes. The 
flood of illumination brought back a dreaded sense of shame, and it seemed 
that she suddenly returned from a dream world, fully realizing what she'd 
done and the implications of it. Oh no, she moaned inwardly. Bob had seen 
everything. He'd seen her being fucked in the ass and sucking off another 
man. He'd seen the way she had enjoyed and responded to it. What could she 
do? This was the moment of truth. She'd done what she'd set out to do, and 
now she could only await the consequences, whatever they were. 

Slowly she pulled herself into a sitting position and pivoted her legs over 
the edge of the bed, reaching for her clothing which was scattered 
helter-skelter over the floor. At first she couldn't bring herself to face 
the others, but she knew she had to, and now was as good a time as any. 

Brushing her short blonde hair back with her hands, she rose from the bed 
and turned to face them. Ethel was lying flat on her back, her stocking-clad 
legs spread wide apart. She did not seem to even notice the young wife as 
she stretched and yawned, a bored expression on her face. As for Myra, her 
face bore a conspiratorial smile in which just a trace of jealousy was 
visible. 

It took a long moment for Ann to look directly into her husband's eyes, and 
when she did so, she saw the anger written there. What was he thinking? 
Perhaps she had gone too far for her first night at the swap party, and her 
strategy would backfire on her. But Bob's expression was not one of simple 
jealousy . . . there was something else - a strange glint in his eyes. 
Lowering her own eyes, she could see that his penis was stiff and throbbing. 
It was obvious that whatever he was thinking, he was returning to a highly 
excited state. 

"Well, what have we here?" Myra cooed, looking down at his fully erected 
member. She reached over between his legs and attempted to grasp it in her 
fingers, but to her surprise, he pushed her arm violently away. His eyes 
were focused on the naked and abused body of his wife. 

"Get your clothes on," he commanded her firmly. 

"Ohh, aren't we nasty?" Myra chimed in. 

"I'm not being nasty at all. I just want to get her home with me. Go on. 
Ann, you heard what I said." 

Though she was still confused by the ambivalent mixture of expressions on 
her husband's face, Ann complied with his orders, quickly slipping into her 
brassiere and panties. Wracked by guilt and shame she ran quickly into the 
bathroom and closed the door behind her, to get dressed in privacy. Bob 
followed suit, angrily swiping his clothes from the chair where he'd tossed 
them earlier in the evening and stepping into them. 

"Now, you're being ridiculous," Myra informed him as she came up behind and 
laid her hands on his shoulders. "Something like this always happens at the 
first swap party. Either the husband or the wife gets jealous. That's 
normal, but you adjust to it in time. By the second or third meeting, you'll 
both feel much freer. You won't be hung up any more." 

"Yeah. I'm jealous all right," Bob snapped, turning on her. "But I'm not 
just jealous because somebody else screwed her. I'm jealous because of the 
way she enjoyed herself. Did you see how she was going? She looked like some 
cheap little slut." 

"Now you're really being ridiculous. For the first time in her life you see 
her finally enjoying sex and you call her a cheap little slut. That's what 
you wanted, for Christ's sake!" 

"Okay, you may be right. But I just wish she. would react with me like that 
in bed." 

"Don't worry, Bob, she will," the older woman reassured him. "She's had her 
eyes opened. She's been liberated. You two are going to have a much better 
sex life from now on . . . unless you make each other feel guilty about what 
happened tonight. That's the worst possible thing you could do." 

Bob could see the logic behind his neighbor's words, but still, emotionally, 
it was difficult to resolve the conflict that had been so blatantly 
illustrated tonight. His staid young wife, who for so long had claimed 
innocence and fought for propriety in the bedroom now suddenly performed 
sexual acts like an experienced prostitute. What was wrong with him that 
he'd never been able to bring this out in her before, while relative 
strangers had done so in the course of a single evening. He turned this over 
and over again in his mind, but there was no immediate answer. He would 
simply have to have a long talk with Ann and find out what was going on 
inside her head. 

As he fixed his tie, his wife re-entered from the bathroom, a look of misery 
clouding her face. She was puffy-eyed and slightly unkempt, soft wisps of 
her short blonde hair sticking out in an unseemly way, her lipstick a bit 
too heavy and smeared. 

"Come on, Ann," Bob said gently, putting his arms around her shoulders. 
"Let's go home." 

They walked silently together downstairs and out to their car in the parking 
lot, both feeling too embarrassed to begin a conversation until finally, on 
the way home, Ann said: "I'm sorry about tonight. I ... I got carried away. 
Are you terribly angry with me?" 

"Not angry, just surprised. I'm surprised the way you got so excited with 
those other men when you never acted that way with me. Tell me the truth, 
Ann, did you go to any of those parties before? I find it pretty hard to 
believe this was your first one." 

"No, I swear, Bob. Never. I just don't know what happened tonight. Something 
changed very suddenly. I wasn't afraid any more." 

"Good. I hope it stays changed. I hope we don't have any problems in bed any 
more," Bob said hopefully as he pulled the car up into their driveway. 

Just as he was about to step out the driver's side, Ann touched his arm 
lightly, keeping him in place. 

"I just want you to know everything will be better. This has been a good 
thing for both of us." 

Bob hoped for the, truth in what she was saying, but at the same time he 
knew that only her actions in the subsequent days would prove or disprove 
thai truth. 

Chapter Seven 

When Ann awoke at seven, several days later, she realized to her dismay that 
her husband's side of the bed was empty even though the impression of his 
body was still marked in the warm sheets. They'd had such a wonderful time 
in bed the previous night that she had completely shut out the thought of 
his departure on a business trip this morning. Fortunately it wasn't a long 
trip - just a week-long inspection trip down to some oil fields in Oklahoma 
and then back home again. Still, she was going to miss him much more than 
before she had to admit, for finally they had gotten things worked out. 

She felt so much freer now, so much more able to enjoy sex, and she owed a 
great debt to Myra Bates and the fact that Myra had introduced them to the 
neighborhood swap club. God, how she had changed in only a few-days! No 
longer did she feel she had to put on an act to please her husband, because 
now she really enjoyed pleasing him; they had done some new things last 
night too - things she had heard about from other girls in college but which 
she had never done even on the night of the party at the Boyer house. 
Stretching out her arms, she gave a luxurious yawn, smiling with complete 
contentment. She felt like a complete woman now and a good wife, despite the 
things she had done with men she didn't know at the swap party. 

In truth, she was looking forward to the next party which would be held at 
the Bates' house after Bob's return from down South. Myra had picked that 
day because Lee would be home then too and had expressed a strong interest 
in joining the club. Ann's thoughts were interrupted when Bob entered the 
bedroom with two cups of coffee on a serving tray. 

"Wake up, baby," he said cheerfully. "The coffee's good and hot." 

Purring like a kitten, his pretty blonde wife pushed herself up against the 
pillows and smiled at her husband. 

"My, what service. Breakfast in bed. You've never done that before." 

"After last night, I owe you something, sweetheart," he grinned. 

"Well, I must admit, you weren't so bad yourself." 

Bob set the tray down on an end table and handed her a cup of coffee, taking 
a seat on the edge of the bed beside her. 

"Let's put it this way. We're both pretty good now thanks to that swap club. 
Myra really did us a favor. By the way, I hope we don't miss the next one." 

As he said this, he glanced down at his wife's full voluptuous breasts that 
were barely visible behind the diaphanous nightie she was wearing. She was 
certainly an attractive woman, all right, he mused to himself. And she was 
twice as attractive now that she had gotten into the swing of sex and 
learned how to enjoy it. 

"Don't worry," she said, "You won't miss it. Unless you have to stay longer 
than expected down there. Myra called me the other evening and said they 
were having it at their place Wednesday after next." 

"How come you didn't tell me last night? You're not trying to keep secrets 
from me, are you?" 

"Certainly not," Ann replied coyly. "I just wanted all your thoughts to be 
on me. I didn't want any distractions in your head." 

Bob laughed heartily, tilting back his head and giving her a slap on the 
thigh through the bed covers. She was certainly becoming very clever these 
days. She was coming into her own, and he liked everything he saw in her 
now. 

"Well, even if they tell me to stay longer, I'm going to do my best to get 
out of it. I wouldn't miss one of those parties for the world." 

"You're forgetting one thing, Bob," Ann reminded him. 

"Oh, what's that?" 

"We have to bring a new couple or at least one new person into the club. 
Those are the rules." 

"Damn it, you're right," he said, snapping his fingers. "I forgot all about 
it. You think they'll really be that strict about enforcing the rules?" 

"I don't know, but it's not worth taking a chance, is it? We'll have to just 
look around and find someone." 

"But where?" Bob said, a puzzled expression clouding his face. "I can't 
think of anybody ..." 

"Don't worry about it." Ann patted him comfortingly on the arm. "I'm sure 
I'll find someone while you're gone." 

"Now wait a minute. What do you mean by that? I don't know if I like the 
idea Of you scouting around the neighborhood for the first eligible male." 

"Don't be silly, Bob. Just trust me. I'm sure things will just sort of take 
care of themselves." 

"Well I hope so. I'd hate to miss that party just because of some sort of 
technicality." 

Finishing his coffee, Bob checked his watch and gave his wife a quick 
good-bye kiss. 

"If I'm going to catch that nine-thirty flight, I'd better get going now." 

"All right, honey, have a good trip. I'll be waiting for you when you come 
back." 

"Don't get yourself in any trouble now," he winked as he slipped into his 
suitcoat. In a moment he was heading briskly downstairs to the living room 
where he picked up his attache case and then made for his car in the 
driveway. 

By Saturday of that week, Ann was practically at her wits end searching for 
a new potential couple for the club. She hadn't really been in the 
neighborhood long enough to get to know many people, and the people she did 
know - like the Bateses - were already members. To her surprise, when she'd 
spoken to Myra about the predicament, she discovered that the new membership 
rule was always strictly enforced. Every couple had to find a new couple, 
and in this way the club could continue to grow. The good thing was that the 
couples didn't actually have to live in the neighborhood, which made things 
a little easier. But how would she go about finding anyone? Would she have 
to go to a bar somewhere and act like a simple pickup? The idea just didn't 
appeal to her. 

She was busy cleaning up the breakfast table as she turned the problem over 
in her mind, and she did not hear the front doorbell until the third ring. 
When she had dried her hands off on a dish towel and gone to answer it, she 
found herself facing a handsome young man in his mid-twenties. He had 
slightly long brown hair, broad shoulders and a pleasant smile and was 
carrying a briefcase. Obviously a salesman of some sort. 

"Hi, I'm Dave Wilson," he announced buoyantly, flashing his strong white 
teeth. "I'm with International Equity, and I thought if you and your husband 
had a few free moments you might be interested in hearing about our new 
health plan. Here's my card... I live just outside of Gibbsville, not too 
far from here, in fact." 

Ann was just on the verge of saying that her husband wasn't at home when she 
checked herself and smiled cryptically at the young man. Here she had been 
worrying all week about a new member for the swap club, practically driving 
herself to distraction in an effort to think of a likely candidate. And lo 
and behold, this pleasant looking young man had just come to the door as 
though in answer to her need. 

"Well, I don't know whether we need any insurance or not, but you're 
certainly welcome to come inside." 

"Thank you," he said, following her in. 

"How about a cup of coffee?" she suggested, leading the way to the kitchen. 
"I've already got some on." 

"Sure, if it's no trouble." 

The young blonde's hands were trembling as she lit the burner under the 
coffee pot. This was the perfect opportunity to fulfill her duty to the 
club, but she knew she couldn't just tell this guy about the swap party next 
week. She had to give him a demonstration of some sort to convince him what 
would be available next week. She had to whet his appetite just the way Myra 
Bates had done with Bob. Yes, as a matter of fact, she would do the same 
thing now, for in truth the incident she had witnessed over at Myra's place 
still rankled her pride. 

Pouring out a cup of coffee, the scheming blonde handed it to the insurance 
salesman who was already seated at the kitchen table. 

"You're married, aren't you?" she inquired as casually as she could while 
pouring her own cup. 

"Yes, how'd you know?" he replied. "Been married two years now. I've got a 
picture of my wife right here." Reaching into his suitcoat pocket, he 
withdrew a billfold and flipped it open, showing Ann a photo of a 
bright-faced young brunette with deep brown eyes. She was certainly 
appealing enough to be a member of the club and in fact make quite a hit. 

"She looks very attractive," Ann said, handing the billfold back. "Tell me, 
do you have a happy marriage?" 

The salesman seemed a bit flustered for a moment, as he'd intended to talk 
insurance, but after hemming and hawing he finally answered her question. 

"Yes, I'd say we're very happily married." 

Ann could tell bv the blustery way he said it that he was covering something 
up, but she realized she couldn't come on too strong with him right away or 
it would scare him off. Casually, she seated herself on the edge of the 
kitchen table next to his chair, making sure that her tight-fitting 
miniskirt rode up high enough on her legs to reveal the tops of her 
stockings and the elastic garters that snaked their way upward over her 
firm-fleshed thighs. She could see that her seemingly casual pose was having 
the desired effect on him. He had forgotten all about insurance as he 
fingered his tie and his gaze wandered up over her legs and came to a halt 
at the bosom of her filmy blouse. 

"Is ... is your husband here by any chance?" he stuttered nervously. "I 
mean, that is, I thought you both might be interested in our health plan. 
It's quite a new feature, and it's . . . it's different from anything else 
in the field." 

"No, I'm afraid my husband isn't here. He's away on a business trip right 
now. But you won't have to worry about that. I can make decisions without 
him." 

Dave Wilson swallowed nervously and tried to keep from blushing, but he was 
having a hard time of it. Already he could feel his penis swelling 
embarrassingly inside his trousers, pushing them upward into a tent-like 
triangular shape. He'd heard about things like this before . . . about women 
alone seducing salesmen who came to their door, but he always thought the 
people who told him these things were inventing them or at least 
exaggerating. Now he understood the company policy of always inquiring 
whether the husband was at home before entering the house. Hell, he'd 
inquired all right, but she'd invited him in anyway. What was he supposed to 
do? Refuse her invitation for coffee? 

No matter how much he tried to concentrate on business, he found his 
attention and his eyes wandering. Jesus! She was a sexy dish all right, 
built like a normal housewife. He knew she had to be making a play for him. 
Why the hell had she asked him about his marriage and whether it was happy 
or not? Why was she leaning against the table that way with her skirt 
bunching up around her cunt, showing off long, long legs to him? Jesus, she 
must be a real tiger in bed. 

Sliding her arms back behind her on the table for support, Ann tilted her 
head back and shook her head from side to side, so that her short blonde 
curls tossed saucily around her blue eyes. 

"It really is a beautiful day, isn't it?" she said stretching out her long 
legs and arching her breasts out toward him. 

"Y-yes, yes it is," Dave replied, not knowing what was going to happen next. 
"About the health plan ..." 

"Don't be silly," Ann chided him. "I'm perfectly healthy. I don't know what 
I'd do with insurance. I just invited you in for a cup of coffee because, 
well, frankly, I was lonely and you looked like an interesting person." 

There was no hiding his discomfort now. His face was nearly as red as a 
tomato, his hands were trembling, and his penis was ready to rocket out of 
his pants. Jesus, there was no doubt in his mind now. This blonde little 
housewife wanted him to fuck her! 

"Would you like another cup of coffee? I see you've finished your first one 
already." 

Without waiting for his answer, Ann took his cup and saucer, and when he had 
glanced away for a moment, let it slip purposely out of her hands. 

"Oh dear, I've made a mess," she apologized. "Here, wait a minute, I'll help 
you," the insurance salesman offered. In truth, he was happy for a break in 
the increasingly embarrassing confrontation with the eager housewife. Not 
that he wouldn't like to grab her and throw her in bed. It was just that he 
didn't have the slightest idea of what to say even though he was usually 
glib and pleasant under normal circumstances. Now, however, he was so 
flustered that his hands shook noticeably as he went down on his haunches 
and helped collect the scattered shards of cup and saucer. 

The attractive young blonde was facing him in the same position only inches 
away. He could feel her hot breath on his cheek already, and when he looked 
he could see the thin strip of her panty crotch band between her thighs from 
the way her skirt had slipped back. If she wasn't doing all this on purpose 
then he had to be crazy. But what was he supposed to do in return? If he 
just grabbed her, she might suddenly snap out on him and scream rape or 
something. Then where would he be? Out of a job and probably in jail. 

Come on, baby, make it easy for me, he pleaded inwardly, hoping that somehow 
she would get the message. Her hand was on his knee now as though she were 
pretending that she needed to balance herself. Then it was gliding up over 
his trousers toward his crotch. Damn, he was getting hot. Suddenly, he could 
stand it no longer. Going down to a kneeling position, he circled his arms 
around her waist and crushed her lush warm body against his, the pieces of 
china falling from his hands. 

"Ummmh, darling, don't be so rough," Ann purred back, amazed at her own 
audacity. "The floor's not very nice. Let's do it on the kitchen table." 

Dave Wilson could barely believe his ears. His heart was pounding crazily 
inside his chest as the voluptuous blonde arched herself backwards over the 
table, hiked up her skirt and slipped her panties down over her obscenely 
spread legs. The tiny silken garment clung between her ankles like a bridge, 
stretched wide apart. 

Her blonde hair-covered pussy was completely exposed to him, the slender 
little lips glistening wetly as his cock jerked up an inch inside his pants. 
Her hands were gliding over the soft swollen mound in slow teasing swirls 
until he thought he was suddenly going crazy watching. Then she began 
mewling and purring like some sort of animal in heat. 

"Here, darling, here," she urged him. "Kiss me right here between my legs." 

Dave suddenly felt numb as though he were being led into a trance by a 
mysterious sorceress. Her pale blonde pussy looked so luscious and 
delectable, the very sight of it made his whole body tingle with electric 
sensation. Before he knew what was happening, he was down on his knees 
between her widespread legs, his head moving slowly, slowly into the 
delicious "vee" of her open thighs. 

He placed his palms on the insides of her knees, feeling the tingling nylon 
of her stocking, and guided her legs farther apart. 

His thumbs grazed her moistly curling pubic hairs, stroking the soft down 
and feeling the first droplets of inner secretions that came to greet his 
lewd ministrations. 

"Suck me, darling, suck my pussy," she begged him. Her head was tilted back 
over the other end of the table, her soft hair dangling loose as she rotated 
her neck. Her eyes were closed as she wallowed in the obscene delight of 
making love on the kitchen table. Why didn't he suck her! What was he 
waiting for? She wanted it now! This minute. 

"Go on, go on," she pleaded. "Stick your tongue between my pussy lips." 

His whole body pulsing with forbidden excitement, Dave pressed his face 
tight against her glistening loins, his lips touching the wetness of her 
seeping cunt, his nostrils inhaling her ambrosia-like scent. Jesus, he 
thought. He was going to tongue-fuck a woman he hadn't known fifteen minutes 
yet. Moving his hands up in between her soft inner thighs, he placed his 
thumbs on her hair-fringed cuntal lips and drew them easily apart. It was 
like a flower bursting open with the first rain of spring. She was ready 
now, good and ready and he was going to give it to her just the way she 
wanted it. 

His tongue slid very slowly into the flowering young flesh and began a 
teasing circular motion around the rim of her tight vaginal opening. Ann's 
thighs jerked in response, and she moaned fervently above him, gripping the 
sides of the table with all her strength. 

"Farther, stick it in farther!" she whispered hoarsely, and in a short 
moment her wish was gratified, for now he clamped his lips tighter over her 
tingling hot pussy and drove his tongue deep inside her cunt with all the 
power of a warrior hurling a spear. Her legs jerked higher around his head 
this time, falling on his shoulders, and then with a desperate groan she 
clamped them tight around his neck, trapping his face to her sex-starved 
loins. He groaned savagely in return and slid his hands up to her whitely 
rounded buttocks, twisting his fingers into her tender ass-flesh as though 
he were kneading dough. 

He could feel her begin a rhythmic grinding motion as he speared in and out 
between her hotly clasping pussy lips, making lewd sucking slurping noises 
as he hungrily drank her liquid. Goddamn! Did she love it! He could tell by 
the way she was moaning and bucking like some kind of wild animal, demanding 
more and more of his pleasure-giving tongue. 

"SUCK! SUCK! SUCK! LICK ME!" Ann moaned, her head rolling and flailing from 
side to side. Releasing her grip on the sides of the table, she began madly 
unbuttoning her blouse, tearing it off as she kept her legs tightly locked 
around the young insurance salesman's bobbing head. She wanted to be 
completely naked, completely free. She wanted him to fuck her right there on 
the kitchen table in broad daylight, and she didn't care who dropped in. 

Jesus! He was really giving it to her with that punishing tongue of his! It 
was whipping in and out of her steaming pussy like a snapping bull whip, 
sending sparks and tingles of lustful desire rippling through her shuddering 
belly. Supporting herself with one hand up off the table, she struggled to 
rip her brassiere free, the fingers of one hand straining against the tight 
elastic material, desperately trying to undo the snaps in back. Finally it 
burst loose and she pulled the straps down over her shoulders, her naked 
breasts jiggling from the wild passionate buffeting the lower portion of her 
body was receiving. 

She knew she had him now. She knew he would come to the next swap club 
meeting, especially if he learned that this was only a preview of what he 
would find there. There was no humiliation left inside her now . . . only 
the sheer joy of the wanton tongue-fucking she was receiving at the hands of 
a perfect stranger, a stranger who very soon would become a member of the 
neighborhood's secret circle. 

Lying back down on the table, the happy blonde ground her pelvis up against 
Dave Wilson's slavering face, matching the vicious lashes of his tongue 
inside her quivering cunt. She was ready for his cock now, but first she was 
going to tease him a little before she allowed him inside her. 

Abruptly she unlocked her legs from around his head and leaned forward to 
push him away. 

"Not so fast, Dave darling. We don't want to have dessert before the main 
course, do we?" 

The young man rocked back on his heels and gazed up at his beautifully lewd 
seductress. Her blouse was off, and his eyes feasted on her voluptuously 
rounded white breasts with their stiff dart-like nipples protruding from the 
soft fleshy mounds. His heart was beating like a tom-tom, he could hardly 
catch his breath, and his face was red from the exertion of fucking her 
willing cunt with his tongue. 

"Now we're going to do something else," Ann announced in a sultry tone as 
she unzipped her skirt and let it drop down to her ankles. With her 
high-heeled sandals still on, she mounted the table again, this time lying 
flat on her stomach, her head and torso protruding over one end so that her 
ripely rounded breasts swayed loose, her nipples pointing down toward the 
floor. 

"I want you to rub me all over, give me a nice little massage, and then do 
you know what I'm going to do?" 

"W-what?" Dave stammered. 

She gave him a coy, other-worldly smile that made him wonder whether she was 
completely crazy and said: "Then I'm going to suck you off. I'm going to 
roll that big fat cock of yours inside my mouth until you cum in my throat, 
and you're going to love every minute of it." 

Jesus, she was crazy. She was talking like some kind of maniac, but still 
there was no escaping the intense power she was wielding over him. Her lush 
tan body spread out on the table like that was indescribably luscious, and 
if he didn't do something soon, he was going to cum in his pants. Hurriedly 
he began stripping off his clothes, throwing them every which way on the 
floor in his haste. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts he 
pulled them down so that his cock sprang out thick and hard like a 
pole-vault rod. He could see her eyes locked on it and her tongue circling 
her ripe red lips. Damn, she was going to suck him off. It was too 
incredible to believe! 

"Come, darling. Give Ann a nice massage. I want you to rub me all over. 
It'll feel so good." 

In a trance-like state, the insurance salesman approached the table and 
glided his fingertips over her smoothly tapering back, up over the delicious 
melons of her buttocks and then down over her tapering thighs. She purred 
expectantly like a contented feline in contrast to the fevered activity of a 
moment ago when she had locked her legs around his head and opened her 
fevered cunt to the punishing thrusts of his tongue. That had just been to 
trap him, and she hadn't wanted to create too high a pitch of excitement 
immediately. That was the lure. Now they would slow down for just a moment 
and she would tease him until he was good and ready to fuck her. 

He would remember this day the rest of his life, she reasoned, and he would 
come back for more any time she wanted him to. But that was the trick. He 
couldn't get any more until he joined the neighborhood swap club with his 
wife. What she was giving him now was the incentive to do just that. After 
all, if she didn't bring in a new member, she and Bob wouldn't be allowed to 
go themselves, and that was one thing she didn't want to miss, for the swap 
club had opened her eyes to pleasure more than anything before or since. It 
had made her perfectly capable of seducing a total stranger in her kitchen 
without feeling the slightest trace of remorse. 

His hands felt so good running all over her naked body. She could feel his 
middle finger teasing the crevice of her buttocks, moving into the crotch of 
her thighs and grazing across her hotly moistened pussy lips. She could tell 
he was trembling with excitement now, but she wasn't going to let him have 
what he wanted - not yet anyway. 

"Come on over this way," she instructed him. "Let Ann see that nice big cock 
of yours." 

Goddamn, this was it, he thought. She was going to suck him off. His cock 
jumped at the thought, the blunt bloated head quivering and trembling in 
ecstatic expectancy. His balls had already filled with sperm, and they ached 
painfully as he positioned himself at the end of the table only inches away 
from her face. 

Her head raised up slightly as she reached for his desire-stiffened penis 
and ran her finger lightly up and down the turgid length. Tracing the path 
of the thick blue veins, she circled the head and swirled her thumb over the 
tiny end-slit that was already moist with his secreting cum. 

"Ummh, that's nice. It looks so hard and big. Do you think you can stick 
that down my throat?" 

"You're damn right I can," Dave said with sudden firmness. He was tired of 
this game she was playing with him, tired of the way she was leading him on 
and purring at him. Hell, if she wanted to fuck, they were just going to 
fuck without a lot of fun and games beforehand. Suddenly he gripped her by 
the temples and forced his pounding cock hard against her sensually full 
lips until it slipped through and made electrifying contact with the hot 
moisture of her tongue. 

"AAAGGGHH!" she gasped. "Not so fast." But her protest went unheeded, and 
she quickly adjusted herself to the task at hand. Her soft ripe lips closed 
around the salesman's hotly throbbing shaft, and her tongue began working 
its magic with lizard-like rapidity, taking quick stabs at the tiny slit, 
gliding around the soft sensitive skin of the underside to tease him even 
further. 

Moaning like a wounded animal, he threw his head back and winced in pure 
sensual agony. God! It was ecstatically excruciating. If only he could get 
something like this in the course of every day's work! He looked down at her 
and saw her head begin to bob back and forth, her lips making lewd sucking 
noises as they held tightly around his throbbing cock-head on the 
backstroke. She was working like a machine now, her body writhing on the 
kitchen table from the intensity of her obscene ministrations, her breasts 
jiggling loosely over the edge. 

With another groan, he bent his knees and reached down to the two 
lust-inciting mounds of her breasts, twisting his fingers into the pliant 
flesh until she mewled from the pain. He trapped her desire-swollen nipples 
between thumb and forefinger and rolled them back and forth, scraping them 
whit his nails, but she was unconscious of anything but pleasure as she 
slaved wetly over his semen-bloated'rod, sucking and milking with her cheeks 
puffing and hollowing in a madly intensifying rhythm. Her hands reached up 
and cupped his fire-inflamed testicles, giving them a squeeze that sent a 
sledgehammer pain through his tensed young body. His knees were practically 
knocking together ... he was going to cum any minute now, but he wanted 
more. He wanted to stick his hotly burning shaft inside her pussy, ram it up 
inside her belly as she writhed and bucked beneath him. 

Never had he expected that he would be fucking a strange woman in broad 
daylight on her kitchen table. The very idea was so obscene that the thought 
of it made his cock swell to the bursting point. But now, he couldn't cum 
yet, and with a rude thrust of his hands against her shoulders, he pushed 
her away and withdrew his hotly excited cock from her mouth. 

It quivered and trembled, glistening with the glow of her saliva from tip to 
base. 

"Roll over, baby," he groaned. "I'm gonna fuck you now." 

"Not now," she teased him. "I was saving that for next time. After all, we 
don't want to spoil things by going too fast, do we?" 

"Just roll over and do what I say. I'm going to fuck you now whether you 
like it or not." 

She knew she had him where she wanted him now. He was a lust-crazed animal 
with no willpower to tame his adulterous desires. The calm cool insurance 
salesman had turned into a raving beast, and foiling over, her whole body 
tingled with excitement at the thought of the way he was going to ravish 
her. 

Dave Wilson didn't waste a second, quickly moving to the other end of the 
table and gripping the backs of her knees. With a thrust, he levered them up 
in the air until they were almost perfectly straight, her high-heeled 
sandals pointing toward the ceiling. His thickly quivering penis jutted out 
between his legs like a primeval spear only inches away from her yearning 
pussy hps, but he did not lunge forward . . . not yet. He was going to wait 
a minute and tease her the way she'd teased him, make her beg for it because 
he knew she wanted it just as badly as he wanted to give it to her. 

"Beg," he snarled down at her. "Beg me for it." 

"Give it to me, oh please give it to me," she mumbled incoherently in her 
excitement. 

"Not like that. Tell me what you want." 

"I WANT YOUR COCK!" she screamed shrilly so that her voice reverberated 
through the whole house. "FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" 

A mask of wanton lust distorting his face, the young man suddenly thrust his 
hips forward, driving his crazily throbbing hardness deep into her 
wide-flowering vagina. It made a harsh wet sucking noise and she squealed 
with delight as it rammed against her cervix. She bucked back against him, 
slapping her upturned ass against his lead-weighted balls, trying to take 
his cock farther and farther up inside her until it broke through the walls 
of her stomach and came out her throat. 

He loomed over her spread-eagled body like a giant, his hands holding her 
legs wide apart so that her cunt was unbearably stretched to his mercy. The 
once-tiny passage of her cunt had opened into a wide tunnel of lust-heated 
flesh, but his hotly excited member expanded to fill every inch of it. He 
began a frenzied bucking motion, ramming back and forth, making lewd wet 
sluicing noises as her pussy lips clasped and unclasped madly around his 
bloated organ. Goddamn, she was deep! Nothing would satisfy her. She could 
take two or three cocks without any trouble at all. He could feel her juices 
oozing all around him, dribbling down over her rotating ass-cheeks. Her 
cuntal muscles twitched and spasmed around his aching cock-shaft, sending 
unfathomable thrills of delight shooting through his belly. 

Impulsively, he rammed two fingers up into her tiny anus, enjoying the 
sudden surprised cry she uttered as her breath escaped from deep inside her 
chest. He twisted and screwed them around then so that she writhed like a 
skewered pig. She was muttering lewd curses now, gasping them out at the top 
of her lungs as she arched her back upward and gripped the sides of the 
table. Goddamn, he was sure everybody in the neighborhood would hear it, but 
his fear of discovery had been overwhelmed by his own animal lust, and he 
continued to slam into her cunt with relentless pile-driving force. 

Off and on all day, Myra Bates had been searching for a good potential 
couple that Ann and Bob Wylie could introduce to the swapping club at the 
next meeting. She had even gone so far as to contact the local Welcome Wagon 
Committee under a reasonable pretext, and they had furnished her with the 
names of newcomers in the area. It had been a stroke of genius on her part, 
and she was anxious to give Ann the news. 

Of course, you couldn't simply go up to new neighbors and tell them about 
the club. You had to socialize with them first and then break the news 
gradually. Nevertheless, she was confident that she and the young blonde 
could figure out a reasonable strategy that would work. With this in mind, 
she had called Ann several times in the past few hours, but there had been 
no answer, which was strange because Myra knew her neighbor was home. 

Perhaps she'd been sleeping late or was busy cleaning out the basement and 
hadn't heard the phone ring. At any rate, it wouldn't do any harm to just 
drop in for a couple of minutes and perhaps discuss things over a cup of 
coffee. 

Taking the addresses of the new neighbors in hand, the attractive 
dark-haired woman set out across the back lawn to the kitchen door of the 
Wylie home. When she was halfway to her destination, some strange noises 
came to her ears - grunting groaning sounds, punctuated by a desperate 
high-pitched wail. At first Myra thought it might be an intruder of some 
sort, but no, those sounds were unmistakable. Ann was fucking someone, and 
they certainly weren't doing it up in the bedroom. At this point, Myra's 
discretion told her to stop and head back to her own house, but on the other 
hand, an intense curiosity seized her, and after hesitating a moment she 
continued forward, stealthily making her way toward the kitchen door. 
Stepping up on tiptoes, she peered into the back window and beheld an 
incredible sight. 

Discarded clothing was strewn all over the floor, and the place looked like 
a tornado had hit it, but that wasn't all. For on the kitchen table, she 
could see Ann Wylie flat on her back, her legs wrapped around a total 
stranger's back, the heels of her shoes digging tightly into his buttocks as 
he slammed his hips forward and back, ramming his cock inside her pussy. 

A knowing smile crossed the older woman's face as she surreptitiously viewed 
the salacious scene. That swapping club had certainly done wonders for Ann, 
and Myra couldn't help admiring the degree of passion her neighbor was 
putting out now with a stranger. Or was he a stranger, she wondered. Perhaps 
she was having an affair with an outsider, someone who did not belong to the 
club. Inspecting the room for clues, though, Myra saw the man's attache case 
on one of the kitchen chairs and suddenly realized what the truth of the 
matter was: he was a salesman of some sort who had just dropped in - 
undoubtedly married and lived somewhere nearby. 

Ann had simply seized on the opportunity to seduce him into joining the 
club, just as Myra had done with Ann's husband. Well, she was certainly 
learning fast. There was no question that she had talent, and at this 
realization, a slight pang of jealousy shot through Myra. To think that a 
few weeks ago Ann Wylie had been a married virgin, and now she was putting 
out like a lust-crazed vamp. Well, it just went to show you that people 
could change... 

"I'm cumming, cumming!" Ann shouted inside the kitchen. Her whole body was 
twitching with frenzied desire now as Dave Wilson screwed ceaselessly in 
between her legs, his balls banging in tempo against her upturned ass-cheeks 
with each lust-inspired thrust. 

Her muscles suddenly stiffened and her high heels jabbed into her partner's 
buttocks to spur him on, and then it came. His cock jerked and twitched in 
the heady wetness of her cunt, spouting jet after jet of hotly spewing cum 
into her love-drenched pussy. 

"Oh, awwww, oh!" she chanted, her tightly impaled body dancing up and down 
off the table as she dug her fingers fervently into the sides. It was like 
heaven. Jesus, it felt good! Maddening spasms of desire assaulted every inch 
of her naked flesh, her lust-swollen breasts rose and fell as she gasped for 
air, and her taut belly quivered as hot swimming sperm penetrated her secret 
womb. Oh God! It was good. Incredibly good. There was no doubt in her mind 
that she had to. do everything in her power to make Dave Wilson a member of 
the club. True, Myra as hostess next week, would have first crack at him, 
but Ann was determined to persuade Bob to hold the next party at their 
house. 

As her pussy lips clung hungrily to the young salesman's powerful cock, she 
could feel the tight-sucking edges being drawn away as he pulled out from 
her. Damn he had done a good job, she thought. He was a real talent that 
shouldn't be allowed to go to waste. 

Her legs fell out to the sides and dangled over the edge of the kitchen 
table as Dave reeled back against the wall. Her pussy lips twitched again in 
echo of the frenzied fucking she'd just received, and now thick white 
droplets of his cum slid down her softly quivering inner thighs, trailing 
over the tops of her stockings in a lewdly flowing stream. 

She was sated now, exhausted from the wanton buffeting she'd received, and 
with an effort, she pushed herself up on the table, pivoting her legs off 
and reaching down for her clothing. As she began slipping into her brassiere 
and panties, she noticed her partner slumped against the wall in a corner of 
the kitchen, his back against the far wall, his legs haphazardly spread 
apart. His eyes were glazed, a film of sweat covered his forehead, and his 
chest heaved as he struggled to keep his breath. 

The poor man, Ann thought. He looked awfully exhausted. After all, it had 
been quite a surprise for him to encounter a sex-crazed female like herself 
when he had only expected to spend an hour or so talking about insurance. 

As Ann was buttoning up her blouse, she heard a knock on the kitchen door, 
and through the window saw Myra standing outside. She felt no shame or 
surprise at this and very casually she strolled over and opened it. 

"Oh hello, Myra," she said cheerfully. "Come on in." 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," the older woman said knowingly, 
shooting a quick glance at the insurance salesman in the corner of the room. 
"I just came over with a list of new couples who moved into the 
neighborhood. I thought it might be useful." 

Dave Wilson for a moment thought he was on another planet somewhere. Not 
only had a perfect stranger just seduced him and allowed him to fuck her on 
the kitchen table, but now a second woman had just entered, seen him stark 
naked and was pretending that she hadn't noticed anything unusual. This was 
a crazy neighborhood all right, he told himself. Instinctively he reached 
for his clothing to cover his loins in embarrassment, blushing as he did so. 

"Who's your friend?" Myra inquired in a sultry tone of voice. 

"His name's Dave. He was just selling me some insurance." 

"He must be quite a salesman. It looks like you two were having a good time 
anyway." 

Stepping into his trousers, Dave hurriedly zipped them up and threw on his 
shirt. These two broads were nuts. They were both nymphomaniacs. Jesus! He 
was beginning to wonder whether his own wife did this kind of thing when he 
was out making calls . . . but no, it was impossible. She'd been brought up 
too strictly, and even now she was a little afraid to be venturesome in the 
bedroom, a fact which annoyed him because she had one hell of a sexy body, 
and he had been dying to get the most out of it for years now. She was 
always giving him excuses though ... It hurt too much, she had a headache, 
whatever. He sure as hell wished she could fuck like that lush little 
blonde, and at the 

t same time, if she ever did, she would probably 

I be out screwing everybody in the neighborhood. 

"What's your hurry, Dave?" Ann inquired. "Why don't you stay and have 
another cup of coffee?" 

"I ... I better get going," he stammered nervously, misbuttoning his shirt 
so that it was too high on one side and too low on the other. 

"Don't be silly," Myra soothed. "Stay and talk with us for a while. You 
don't have to feel embarrassed." I The insurance salesman hardly knew what 
to do now. On the one hand, he felt like snatching up his attache case and 
bolting out the front door, and on the other hand, he was reluctant to leave 
these two tempting females who obviously hadn't the least hangup concerning 
sex. He had little choice when Myra placed her hands on his shoulders and 
gently steered him into a chair. 

"We have something to talk to you about. I'm sure you'll find it 
interesting." 

A moment later when Ann had fixed a new round of coffee, the three of them 
were sitting at the kitchen table almost as if nothing strange had happened. 
It was Ann who broached the subject of the neighborhood swap club first. 

"I'm sure you enjoyed yourself today, but you realized of course, that no 
one gets something for nothing." 

He squinted at the young blonde suspiciously. 

"What do you mean by that? I didn't ask for anything. What is this, some 
kind of blackmail?" 

"No, not blackmail at all," Myra interrupted. "We'd just like you to join a 
club. We're both members ourselves, and so are our husbands." 

"You mean a wife-swapping club?" 

"Yes, that's the idea, but it's perfectly respectable. Some of the best 
people in the neighborhood are members. We meet every few weeks, and we have 
a wonderful time. It takes a little while to get used to it, but after the 
second-or third gathering, I'm sure you and your wife will feel perfectly at 
ease ..." Myra continued. 

At this, Dave suddenly jumped up from the table in anger. 

"Now, wait a minute. It's one thing for me, but my wife ... I mean, my wife 
would never ..." 

"You'd be surprised," Ann laughed. "I was a terrible prude before I joined 
the club three weeks ago, and now I feel completely free. I can do anything 
I want and enjoy it. Mate-swapping clubs aren't perverted like some people 
think . . . They're a truly liberating experience for husbands and wives 
alike." 

"Listen," Dave protested. "You don't know my wife. I mean she's got a hell 
of a body, but if I told her what happened today . . . well, first of all 
she probably wouldn't believe me, but if she did, she'd probably sue for 
divorce." 

"Oh really, I don't think so," Myra said. "You should stop around with her 
sometime, and think about it meanwhile. You see, Ann is a new member, and 
according to the club rules, she has to introduce another couple at the next 
meeting, which will be next Wednesday. You'll have a couple of days to talk 
it over with her." 

By now Dave's head was spinning crazily. He couldn't believe that he was 
still in a normal suburban neighborhood talking to two seemingly normal 
housewives in the same way he would talk about insurance. But still he 
couldn't deny the reality. 

"I think I need a drink," he said finally. 

"Good! I was waiting to hear you say that," Myra replied. "It will probably 
help you restore your energy. What do you say we go over to my place? It's 
just across the way." 

Ann did not protest as her older neighbor led the young insurance salesman 
across the lawn. After all, she had already laid a solid claim on him, and 
besides, whatever Myra could offer would be an extra inducement for Dave and 
his wife to join the club. 

The young blonde was alone now in the kitchen sipping her coffee, but she 
felt pleasantly satisfied. She was awaiting Bob's return in hopes the 
company would not extend his stay in Oklahoma. But even if they did, she was 
sure to have a good time at the party anyway. After all, there were so many 
men in the neighborhood she hadn't tried yet, and each of them could 
probably show her something new. 


End
