Summer Swing

by Ben Boswell

  “We could try again,” Brad gasped.

  Claire shook her head. “You’re too big.”

  He groaned in frustration, but I could see that his cock had returned to attention, which was surely Claire’s intention.

  “Come on, Baby, let’s go back inside and finish this. I want to feel you inside me one last time before Chris arrives tomorrow.”

  Brad let out another soft groan, but didn’t protest as his wife led him through the French doors into their bedroom. They slid the doors shut behind them, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear any more. And I didn’t dare peer through the glass because I knew I’d be backlit and visible.

  Instead, I thought of tomorrow. Of Claire sucking and fucking Chris’s hard cock. On her hands and knees, big tits swaying, whimpering as he fucked her up the ass. And then my wife, so giving, providing solace to Brad, bouncing up and down on his over-sized cock, her own moans drowning out Claire’s squeals. And then me and Lena, odd men out, coming together, sucking and fucking, Lena on her back, big tits jiggling wildly as I pounded her tight little cunt.

  I gasped, firing my load high into the air. It landed with a splash on the deck as my knees went weak.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I woke up the next morning, after a fitful sleep. Marie wasn’t in bed. I was momentarily concerned, but then when I looked at my phone and saw it was 9:30am, I realized I had just slept late.

  Everything downstairs was cleaned up. No evidence of a drunken strip poker party. No sign that Claire’s boobs had been on display. That my wife’s baby sister had gotten topless and then flashed us her tight asshole. No evidence that my wife had exposed her gash to our friends. Out on the deck, there was no indication that Brad had bent his sexy wife over the railing and nailed her from behind as she tempted him with images of him fucking Lena and Marie while she took Chris’ cock in her butt. In fact… there was no sign of anyone.

  That in itself was enough to get me going. I’d seen the way Lena and Marie looked at Brad’s cock, and I knew now what a dirty little tease Claire was. Was it too hard to imagine that even now, Claire had arranged a pre-payment for her own planned debauchery later? Were the four of them ensconced somewhere with Claire choreographing as Brad took turns driving first Lena and then my wife crazy with his huge prick?

  I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. In walked Brad, and then three women. All of them were covered in sweat. For a brief moment, I gaped in shock at the confirmation of my fears… my fantasy. Then I noticed the shorts, the tank tops, the sneakers.

  “Good run?” I asked.

  Marie mimed panting like a dog. “Already hot as fuck.”

  My wife’s top was soaked, and her jog bra, while easily able to handle her pert breasts, couldn’t quite prevent her hard nipples from poking through. Claire was jiggling as she walked over to the kitchen to drink a tall glass of water, and I was pretty sure I could see cameltoe as Lena stretched her thighs in her tight, damp shorts. I also couldn’t help taking a peek at Brad’s crotch, where every shimmer of fabric seemed to hint at the snake he was concealing within. In truth, the four of them, hot and sweaty, in their clingy, damp clothes, seemed perilously close to collapsing into a sultry orgy right before my eyes. I edged behind the kitchen counter to hide my boner.

  “I get the upstairs shower first,” Marie chimed. She moved quickly toward the stairs to cement her claim.

  Lena groaned.

  “You can use the outdoor shower,” Claire noted as she and Brad went into their bedroom and their own bathroom.

  Marie tossed her sister a towel from upstairs, and Lena grudgingly dragged herself toward the deck.

  So now, I was torn. In about a minute, my wife would be naked in our shower upstairs. All hot and sweaty… I bet I could tempt her into a little loving if I followed her. But at the same time, Lena would be in the outdoor shower, which I could easily peer into from the small deck off her bedroom. I’d just seen Lena almost completely naked, but the temptation to observe her… to see her soaping up those big, beautiful titties, washing her bare, shaved snatch... Could I hope that she might even, maybe, rub one out?

  As I was feverishly pondering the alternatives, I heard a rhythmic thumping begin to emanate from behind the fridge. It took me a moment to visualize the floorplan of the house before I realized the noise was coming from Brad and Claire’s shower, which abutted the kitchen from the master suite. I was suddenly fascinated. I edged over, and I began to make out other sounds. Water splashing. Flesh on flesh. Claire’s frantic moans as she both struggled with and delighted in the sensation of Brad’s huge prick.

  “Bastard,” I grumbled to myself.

  I’d never particularly had dick envy. But, damn, it must be a great feeling to make a woman whimper just by putting it inside her. That thought clarified my choice. I could either hope to catch a glimpse of a naked woman or actually fuck one. Easy decision.

  I walked upstairs with my erection tenting my boxers. Crossing the room, I whipped off my tee shirt, and stormed into the bathroom, which Marie had helpfully left unlocked. I pulled open the curtain.

  My wife shrieked in surprise and then after looking me over burst into giggles. My hardon vanished in an instant.

  I must have looked crestfallen because Marie immediate shifted gears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, though she was having trouble keeping a straight face. “It’s just, you startled me…. And you did look a little funny with that big thing.”

  “Big?” I repeated defensively.

  She grinned. “Huge,” she replied. “Anything bigger and I’d be scared.”

  “Don’t mock me.”

  “I’m not….” She giggled. “Okay, maybe a little. I think you’re thinking more about Brad’s thingy than I am.”

  “That’s not what you said last night.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was messing with you. Now… Bubby, let me finish my shower, okay? Unless, you want to join me?”

  I glanced down at my bulgeless shorts. “Maybe later.”

  She pulled the curtain shut. “That’s a date.”

  ***

  We all gathered back downstairs as lunch time approached. The women had changed into bikinis again, and again I marveled at Lena. The body on that girl….

  I needed to stop obsessing over her. It’s not like my wife was any slouch. In fact, as nice as Lena’s curves were, I was pretty sure that in seven years, when she was my wife’s age, she wouldn’t look half as good. Anyway, she was my wife’s sister, so even thinking about this was creepy. Still… those tits….

  Claire answered her phone and had a brief conversation.

  “Looks like Chris won’t be here until tonight,” she updated us.

  “It’s like waiting for Godot,” I said.

  “Claire’s going to be upset if he never shows,” Brad added.

  She shook her head at him. “You’re an idiot.”

  “What?” he asked. “Was that a spoiler?”

  “You’re a spoiler,” Claire replied.

  Brad laughed. “What does that even mean?”

  I was definitely curious for the guy to arrive. I sort of suspected that when he did, Claire and Brad would suddenly clam up. This was just a game for them, after all. Or was it? And if it wasn’t, how would Marie react?

  It’s odd, but if someone had described the situation to me a few weeks ago, I would have predicted that Marie would be vaguely annoyed by all of this silliness, and that she would totally lose it if Claire and Brad decided to open their marriage with the rest of us, including Lena, as witnesses. But after last night, I wasn’t so sure. I mean, holy shit, had she really dropped her panties at the poker table?

  After a tabouli salad for lunch, we packed the cooler full of beer and headed down to the beach. I’m not going to say we caused a commotion, but North Bethany is, for lack of a better word, family friendly. So yeah, you get the occasional MILF who is usually self-consciously covering herself up and the even rarer sixteen-year-old girl who is amusin
g herself by scandalizing her dad, but for the most part it isn’t really a girl-watching scene. So Claire, Marie, and Lena, prancing around in skimpy bikinis definitely got some eager attention from the middle aged men on the beach and unmistakably dirty looks from their wives.

  “You’re strutting like a peacock, Bubby,” my wife teased.

  I laughed. “Not every day I get to parade around with a harem of hotties.”

  “I think it only counts as a harem if you’re having sex with them,” she noted.

  “Who says I’m not?”

  She laughed. “Remember, Sultan, surround your women with nothing but eunuchs. We harem girls can get pretty horny with only one man around to satisfy all our needs.”

  She smirked. And Brad is anything but a eunuch.

  “Oh, cool, they put the volleyball net back up,” Brad said.

  Another mixed emotion moment. I’m not really much of a volleyball player, especially compared to Brad. On the other hand, Lena and Claire jumping up and down was definitely something to look forward to, even if the price I had to pay was Brad spiking on my ass most of the time.

  We set up camp on a quiet stretch of sand at the edge of the lifeguard range. Technically beers are not allowed, so even with koozies it was best to be at some distance from the authorities… such as they were.

  The girls had placed their towels side-by-side and were uniformly reclining on their elbows, looking quite fetching individually and absolutely delectable collectively.

  Brad and I decided to test the water. It was bracing, but not too bad once we got in.

  The waves were really impressive, and we spent some time jumping them. Brad rode a couple in, ending up getting tossed and turned in the foam.

  “That looked painful,” I said.

  “No pain, no gain. That’s what you always say.”

  “That’s about lifting, not about getting your face slammed into the sand.”

  We eased out of the surf and sat on the slope so that the water just reached our legs.

  “It can be about other things too,” he noted.

  “Oh?” I replied. I suspected where he was going, but was uncertain what he wanted.

  “I think Chris is really going to show up tonight.”

  “Lucky for Lena, then, since I think she’s feeling a little like a fifth wheel, especially come bedtime.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “She’s a young girl. She’s not going to be interested in a forty-something guy…. At least that’s what Claire is counting on.”

  So he was anxious about Chris arriving. “I thought you liked what it did to her?” I asked.

  “The fantasy… yeah,” he admitted. “But now….”

  “So just tell Claire you’re not into anything more than fantasy and—”

  “It’s not that simple,” he interrupted.

  “What, you think Claire would, like, insist?”

  He shook his head. “Naw. If she was going to do it anyway, she’d just have an affair with the guy. I mean, they’re at work all day together, and—”

  “So how do you know they’re not?” I asked. I cringed as it occurred to me how insulting that could come off. But he wasn’t insulted. Instead, I saw him adjust his trunks.

  “I almost wish she was,” he replied. “Then, like, it would be out of my control.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t get it.”

  He watched me through his eyebrows. It would have been a little unnerving if he hadn’t reminded me, at the moment, of nothing more than a wet, shaggy dog.

  “You and Marie have been together a long time.”

  I shrugged.

  “Maybe a bit of a rut at times?” he persisted.

  “Naw. I mean, look, it isn’t first dating territory, but especially with this whole getting pregnant thing, I’m getting more action than I want.”

  “That’s not what I mean. It’s more like….” he trailed off before continuing. “Like, this morning, Claire and I totally went at it.”

  I laughed. “I heard.”

  “You fucking perv.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, next time you want to keep it on the QT, maybe try for less of the splashing and thumping.” And moaning and flesh slapping.

  “You know when’s the last time Claire and I did it in the shower?”

  “This morning?”

  He flipped me the bird. “Before that. Try… never. Not to mention, you know, we did it like three times last night.”

  “Now you’re just bragging,” I said.

  He laughed. “Seriously dude, my dick is getting raw.”

  I could only imagine what that implied for Claire’s poor, overstuffed pussy.

  “Waah.”

  He laughed again. “And you know what set it off this morning?” He didn’t wait for me to respond before he continued. “I walked into the bathroom while she was showering and saw she was shaving her puss.”

  Normally that would be a TMI moment, but not after last night. “I wish Marie would,” I said.

  He slapped my chest. “Exactly! I mean Claire usually trims. Nothing as cool as a landing strip,” he said as I blushed. “But since we started joking around about Chris, she’s been shaving bare.”

  I groaned excitedly at the thought of Claire, completely naked, with those big tits, and that long red hair, and completely shaved.

  He laughed. “Exactly. And she goes, ‘I want to be nice and smooth for him.’ And bam, I don’t even remember climbing into the shower, but suddenly my running shorts are down around my ankles and I….” He paused. “Damn, she was so wet.”

  “You were in the shower,” I noted.

  He stared out at the ocean. “Dude, I don’t know how I’m going to handle it.”

  “So stop her.”

  “I don’t want to, man. I mean, shit, if just thinking about this guy gets her like this, then imagine what she’ll be like if I actually let her do it?”

  He shook his head, a goofy smile on his face.

  “I still think she’s just messing with you. When girls want to get preggo, they go a little nuts.”

  He chuckled. “Well, then fuck, I hope she wants to have a whole squad of ‘em.”

  I heard a giggle from behind me. When I turned, two young, very fit guys were standing in front of the girls, chatting them up. Mid-twenties, one blond, one dark and Latin, both sporting six-packs and Speedos with impressive packages on display. This had the chance to go south in a hurry.

  “Oh shit,” I said. “We better get back, otherwise, tonight it is just going to be you, me, and this Chris guy playing Canasta.”

  ***

  After successfully chasing off the interlopers, we settled in with the girls and worked through the cooler of beer. Brad insisted we play volleyball, and as expected it was a maddening combination of eating sand (bad) and watching the girls jiggle (good!).

  We dragged ourselves back to the house. I fired up the grill and cooked up some Italian sausages. Claire made a delicious salad with baby spinach, sliced peppers, cherry tomatoes and a lemon-dijon vinaigrette. Marie set up a wine tasting.

  Brad and I had showered and gotten back in our usual beach evening ensembles: cargo shorts and tee shirt. The girls, bless ‘em, had dressed up. My wife donned a crinkled white skirt and a tight, red tank top. Lena was in skimpy, white shorts, and a pale blue, v-neck tee, with her ripe orbs threatening to burst out. Claire had definitely gotten the most gussied up. She was wearing a flouncy pink and yellow sundress with spaghetti straps, and was competing with Lena for whom was showing the most cleavage.

  I was coming in from the deck with a plateful of seared meat when I heard a commotion by the door. Godot had arrived.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I could immediately see Claire’s attraction. He was a tall, slender guy, really fit, muscular beneath a fitted polo. Dark hair with salt and pepper highlights and dark blue eyes.

  “You made it,” Claire gushed.

  She pulled him into a tight hug that lasted a little longer th
an appropriate. I glanced over at Brad, who was grinning like an idiot. He really did want this guy to fuck his wife. Wild.

  When she finally released him, Chris turned toward my wife. Head tilted slightly, he held out his hand. “Do we know each other?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she replied a little coldly. Obviously she was less than thrilled about him, and I presumed that now that it was really happening, she was having second thoughts about being made a party to Brad and Claire’s little game.

  Chris shook Brad’s hand and then turned toward Lena. She was staring at him, head cocked, her hand on her hip as she clicked her tongue saucily.

  “So you’re the old fart they’re trying to set me up with?”

  Claire and Marie gasped, horrified.

  “I didn’t know that was the plan,” he replied.

  “Why else would they invite two fifth wheels?” she asked.

  I stifled a laugh. I wasn’t always amused by Lena’s love for causing a scene. But between strip poker last night and her upsetting of Brad and Claire’s plans tonight, I was growing to enjoy her penchant for mayhem.

  “You really think I’m an old fart?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t fuck you.”

  He laughed, not at all taken aback by her effort to shock him. “If you were drunk enough, you mean?” He reached into his overnight bag and pulled out a bottle of scotch. “Or is Jagr more your speed?”

  “Red bulls and vodka,” she replied.

  He chuckled and turned away from Lena, instead reaching out first to Brad, and then to me to shake hands.

  “Come on, we’re about to eat,” Brad said finally as Claire shot daggers at Lena.

  Chris apparently saw Lena’s attitude as an invitation rather than a challenge, which, of course, it was. He picked a seat next to her and as we started to eat, he clearly focused his attention on her. But it wasn’t as simple as that because it also struck me as obvious that he was playing to an audience. Like the way he timed flirty comments to lulls in the conversation, his eyes then drifting over to the end of the table where Claire sat to judge her reaction.