Summer Swing

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Summer Swing Page 16

by Ben Boswell


  I stopped and sat back. She was breathing heavily, very turned on, almost certainly more because of the strangeness of the situation, of being fondled while blindfolded. Safe but not in control. I admired her luscious body. I’d always thought she was sexy, and had always wanted to fuck her in a general, non-specific way. But I’d never really focused on her body. It would have seemed too creepy before, and even during the night we spent together, it was always either too dark or too frantic.

  So this was the first time I really noticed the little bumps around her areolas, the delicate, pale hairs on her belly, the way her vulva made a small bare mound, her labia cleaved by a delicate, glistening channel.

  My hand trailed over her slit, pulsing, wet, sticky. I didn’t explore her folds. Instead, I reached back up and tweaked her nipple, then the other. With my hand just resting on her pussy, I sucked and licked her tits, a bit rougher than I might otherwise, but also not so much as to make her resist. I knew it was working when I noticed her hips rising and falling, her pussy red and puffy, begging for attention. I resisted. Two fingers in her pulsing hole would have brought her off and ended it, but instead I kept at her nipples, until they turned dark red and so sensitive that every touch brought a desperate gasp. She tried to hump my hand, but I moved it away, so that no matter how much she thrust, I never let her feel more than the slightest hint of my hand.

  “Fuck me,” she begged.

  I didn’t. And when her own hand moved to her pussy, I grabbed it firmly and pinned it by her side. Once I was sure she wouldn’t try again, I went back to work on her nipples, periodically pausing to kiss her neck or tease her inner thighs. It was a delicate torment, and her frustrated gasps told me it was working.

  “Oh God, make me come,” she whined.

  She spread her legs wider and with the soles of her feet on the mattress thrust upward toward my hand. Her pussy split open on its own, pink and wet inside. My hand on her rippling belly, I pressed her back down on the bed. When she calmed down a little, I began fingering the outside of her slick labia. She moaned with satisfaction at the promise of being allowed to come, but I didn’t give in yet.

  “Oh please, Baby, Baby,” she moaned. “Please make me come and I’ll do anything.”

  I slid my hand lower. My fingertips were slick with her juices, and I gently touched her anus. She smiled.

  “I knew it was you, Baby,” she said. I was confused, but then she continued. “I’ll try, okay, Baby. I’ll try. I know it’s not fair that I let Dan and C.J. fuck my ass, but you’re so much bigger. But maybe...” and now her smile got even wider as she thought she might hook me, “How about the three of you take turns? I’ll give you a perfect view as first Dan and then C.J. fuck my ass and come inside me, and when I’m nice and stretched out and messy, you can try it.”

  I was torn. On one hand, I wanted to keep playing with her. On the other, I had a contest to win, and with her all worked up and thinking I was Brad and equally worked up, it seemed like time to go in for the kill. I fell upon her. I sucked hard on her tits and simultaneously pressed two fingers deep in her tight, steaming cunt. She gasped in surprise, but immediately began humping against me. My thumb found her swollen clit, which I rubbed in hard, urgent circles. Her breath caught. She jerked her head back. And suddenly her pussy seemed to explode, spasming again and again on my fingers, still quivering as I slowly pulled them out.

  She was gasping for breath.

  “Oh God, Baby, that was fucking amazing. Fucking amazing.”

  ***

  The deal was that we’d have 30 minutes or so with each girl, and then they’d each get 30 minutes to recover, freshen-up, whatever. Those breaks were the worst. Weird and awkward as expected. We guys didn’t chit-chat, but the smirk on C.J.’s face was enough to set me on edge. Drawing my wife for round two almost triggered a panic attack. What if I walked in and she was obviously still in a post-orgasmic daze from whatever C.J. did to her? What if my own efforts paled in comparison?

  As long as I compartmented things, I was okay. More than okay, actually. Messing around with Claire and Lena were unforgettable experiences. They were both so sexual and crazy. Anything goes...

  But then again, so apparently was my wife. As I waited down the minutes before I was to go to her, I revisited her admission from the morning. Or accurately, I processed it for the first time. She’d recounted getting double-penetrated, like a wild porn star, impaled on Brad’s massive prick while C.J. pounded her asshole… an asshole he’d apparently fucked more than once. And she’d acknowledged a peculiar kink that I’d never imagined: that at least playing at being an emasculating bitch was a turn-on. Not that I felt particularly emasculated. I could always counter, Only C.J. gets to fuck my ass with that’s okay, I’ll fuck your sister and best friend’s instead. I chuckled to myself at the craziness of it all. And to think, it all began with Claire’s crush on a co-worker and Lena’s dumping yet another boyfriend.

  The kitchen buzzer rang. Show time. I didn’t even look at Brad or C.J. before heading upstairs to our bedroom where my wife was awaiting her next man.

  Unlike Claire, Marie was not luxuriating sexily back on the bed. She was nude and blindfolded, but she was also sitting upright on the end of the mattress, hands somewhat primly in her lap, as if she were willing to play the game, but also somewhat removed from it. I stood there watching her for a few moments.

  “Hello?” she said finally.

  I didn’t reply.

  “Dan?”

  I didn’t answer.

  I’d been wracking my mind trying to think of how to best please her. It should have been easy. I certainly knew well enough what she liked. And yet, I had the sense that in this game, surprise and novelty were my best advantage.

  I approached her, and she shivered. She jolted when I touched her upper chest and didn’t resist when I pressed her onto her back. I slid her legs onto the bed. I hesitated a moment, wondering what C.J. had done to her, whether I’d be able to tell… and then I realized I didn’t need to wonder. She was mine to explore. I grabbed her behind each knee and pulled her legs apart.

  “Wait… slow down,” she said.

  I ignored her, not stopping as I exposed her pussy, and continued to press her thighs against her pert breasts. She was now completely exposed, not just her snatch and landing strip, but also her cute little asshole. She shivered in embarrassment, blushing furiously. Her ass was so tiny, it was hard to imagine her taking C.J.’s fat cock back there. But she had, more than once.

  I wet my finger with spit and slowly began circling her anus.

  “C.J.?” she sighed.

  I wondered if she’s told him as well that he was the only one allowed to have her ass. Or maybe I had it wrong. I imagined him sliding his thick tool in her ass, pulling back on her hair, growling a command in her ear: This is my ass. Only I get to fuck it. And Marie, grunting back her assent, Yes, Baby, it’s your ass.

  She hissed and I realized I’d gone in up to the first knuckle. Her sphincter clenched against my finger. She was so tight, I couldn’t believe she could take a cock back there. It seemed impossible. I let that thought play out as well. Wondering if maybe it was all a big tease. Just a way to get me spun up. Except, no, I knew it wasn’t. I’d seen them together. Seen the way C.J. possessed my wife. The way her body molded to his as he thrust inside her, the way his hands roamed confidently over her tight physique. She was my wife, but at some level she’d always be his whore. It should have been a painful realization, except I’d had some time to get used to it, and to realize that, in truth, few people ever marry the person with whom they have the best sexual chemistry.

  I removed my fingertip and leaned in. I gave her ass a quick lick. She yelped in surprise.

  “Oh God… Brad?”

  I stifled a potentially identifying chuckle. When I’d been just watching her, she thought it was me. When I fingered her ass, she imagined I was C.J. But now a tongue on her anus, and she pictured Brad in my place. I licked he
r again. She shivered and moaned.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  What was I doing? I wasn’t sure. Was I curious? Was I feeding some weird desire for humiliation by tasting her ass knowing another man had sodomized her last night? Or was I just reacting to her, and the way my tongue on her asshole seemed to make her quiver and gasp.

  I folded her completely in half, pushing her thighs down toward the mattress so that her ass rolled upward toward my face. I licked her ass again, a longer, slower stroke, lingering over her puckered hole.

  She groaned. “Oh God. Oh my fucking God.”

  She’d obviously washed recently, so she tasted of nothing but soap… or was there something else? I couldn’t be sure, maybe just a hint of tang, but maybe that was just her excitement. Her pussy was glistening. Was that leftover from whatever C.J. had done to her, or was she getting wet from me eating her ass?

  I pressed down on her cheeks, opening her up for me. I orbited her anus with my tongue, circling in, forcing my tongue up inside her ass.

  “Oh God,” she moaned, her voice throaty and fried. “Orhhhh, Gawrrrrd.”

  I peeked up. She was squirming deliciously. Her nipples were rock hard, dark erect, and as prominent as I’d ever seen them. They seemed desperate for attention. As if she could hear my thoughts, the next time I tongued her ass, she seized her own nipples and pulled them hard. Her tongue flicked in her mouth like a snake’s. My tongue probed her butthole. Her pussy spread open, and I could feel her heat, smell her excitement. Her juices ran down the crack of her ass. I licked her even more eagerly, the familiar taste of her cunt mixing with the novelty of her ass.

  She twisted her own nipples and cried out in passion. She bucked upward, a long, low growl escaping from her quivering lips. Her pussy spasmed visibly. I could only imagine how delicious it would feel on my cock.

  She scissored her legs and twisted away from me, onto her stomach. With her ass in the air, she began to flick her clit roughly. I fell back upon her, spreading her ass, slurping her pulsing asshole.

  She howled. Literally howled. I felt her ass spasm against my tongue. The scent of her sex was overpowering. She was pumping two, then three fingers into her pussy, again and again. She howled again.

  “Oh, my fucking God, my fucking God!!!”

  She spun again, and again, to the edge of the bed. She curled up into a shivering ball.

  “No more, no more,” she begged.

  I was too shocked to be shocked. I know that does not make sense, but I couldn’t process what had just happened. Instead, I grabbed the bed spread and yanked it up over her. She pulled it over her head. I watched her shuddering beneath the covers for a few minutes before retreating from the bedroom.

  ***

  “You okay?” Brad asked when I returned to the living room.

  C.J. laughed. “Jesus, you drop a load in your pants?”

  I hadn’t, though the pre-cum leaking through my shorts made me doubt it for a second…. I wished I had. My balls were throbbing painfully. I was tempted to retreat to the bathroom and rub one out, but then I realized it wouldn’t come close to being satisfying… not with the knowledge that there were three, wet, horny women in the house. I wasn’t going to waste one.

  “This was a stupid idea,” I muttered.

  “What are you going to ask for if you win?” Brad asked.

  I chuckled. “Something wildly raunchy involving Claire,” I replied.

  I couldn’t even imagine what went through his mind, but his thin smile, wild eyes, and raging hardon suggested that whatever it was, he’d like it.

  “I’m going to get a two-sister show,” leered C.J.

  I rolled my eyes. Not that I hadn’t thought about it, but I knew it was a non-starter. “Fat chance,” I replied. He smirked, and I suddenly doubted my certainty. Lena would never allow her sister to show her up, and we had yet to find a sex act that my wife would refuse to C.J. Was Marie making it with her sister any more unbelievable than her sitting on Brad’s monster cock while C.J. reamed her ass? I wasn’t sure.

  I decided to change the subject. “How about you, Brad?”

  He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  C.J. laughed. “Guaranteed that if Brad wins, his fantasy is going to involve Claire getting pounded by a couple of yards worth of cock.”

  Brad blushed furiously, but didn’t respond. I rolled my eyes. C.J. had Brad’s number. He seemed to have my wife’s too. I wondered if he had mine as well. And if so, what was my number? Thinking back on my session with my spouse, I still didn’t know how much was my desires, how much was me just responding to my Marie, and how much was some sick fetish about tasting my wife’s recently fucked ass.

  The timer buzzed. Round three.

  ***

  Lena was lying back on the bed, gloriously naked, but also obviously bored. Hands behind her head, a cocky smirk on her face, she spread her legs to give me access to her pretty pussy.

  “Have at it, Stud,” she said mockingly.

  I wondered if Brad and C.J. had been content to eat the girls out. It would certainly be the safe bet. I’d never met a woman who didn’t enjoy having her clam cleaned, but I’d gone above and beyond with Marie and Claire… or had I gone too far. Had leaving Marie shivering beneath the covers been a good thing or bad?

  Lena tapped her pussy. “Lunchtime.”

  That just pissed me off. I strode over to her and sat on the bed beside her. I slapped away her hand and shoved two fingers deep into her tight cunt. She grunted. I curled my fingers up and pressed against the ridged flesh between her pussy and belly.

  “Hey—” she yelped.

  I pulled out my fingers and silenced her by shoving my fingers, fresh from her cunt, into her mouth. She shook her head and tried to spit them out. I pressed in deeper, pushing down her tongue until she gagged. She gripped my fingers in her teeth in an implicit threat. I lowered my other hand onto her throat. She hesitated. I tightened my grip, thumb pressing down against her windpipe. Checkmate. She relented. I pumped my fingers in and out of her mouth, and she accepted them, like she would a cock. I loosened my grip on her throat.

  I took my wet fingers from her mouth and plunged them back into her hot, wet twat. Deep thrusts, thumb on her clit, and then back to her mouth. No protest this time. She sucked my fingers sensuously despite the fact that they were coated with her own juices. I pumped my fingers into her mouth, then my thumb. She sucked them all like a cock. I went back down to her pussy, but this time in addition to two fingers in her cunt, I thrust my moistened thumb into her ass. She gasped and bucked and thrust against my hand. I pulled out and again fed her my fingers. She sucked them eagerly, but when I tried to give her my thumb, she resisted, teeth clenched, lips tight. I again grabbed her throat, squeezing until she squeaked. Again she surrendered, sucking on her thumb, tasting her own ass.

  I repeated the process, my fingers going from her ass and cunt to her mouth and back again, my fingers dripping with her juices and spit. I continuing stretching her out. Three fingers in her pussy, her labia stretched tight around my digits. Then two fingers deep in her pulsing ass. Then four fingers in her snatch, churning in up to my palm, my thumb flicking her rock hard clit.

  She was grunting, a throaty neighing, a mix of passion and pain, her body bucking as I pounded into her. She sighed in relief as I pulled out, though her pussy clung to me, and her hips rose toward my hand involuntarily asking for more. I jammed my fingers into her mouth, and she licked me clean. Then I went back to her ass. Three fingers this time. She whimpered and squirmed.

  “Too much, too much,” she whined.

  But then she rocked her ass off the bed and reached down to pull her asscheeks apart so I could get in deeper. I pressed hard, past the second knuckle.

  “Oh Jesus,” she hissed.

  Her ass began to spasm wildly as I stretched her sphincter to the breaking point. I slowly slipped back out and she melted with relief. Then I went back to her pussy. Four finger
s and more. I slipped my thumb into the palm of my hand, and she gasped as she realized what I intended.

  “No Baby, you’ll tear me apart,” she said, but she didn’t try to escape, and I knew that at least part of her wanted it. Wanted my entire fist inside her.

  I looked up at her face. She was dripping sweat, lips drawn tight, her whole body shivering. I had her at her breaking point. Just a little more and—

  The buzzer went off. She suddenly recoiled from me, my hand slipping out of her cunt with a slurp. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Our time was up.

  ***

  I felt dejected. I thought I’d done well with Claire and my wife, but I hadn’t even made Lena come. In fact, I wondered if she’d try to give me a negative score. In retrospective, I’d have been better off just eating her out. Now…

  ... now it seemed likely I’d lose. And I had the sneaking suspicion that C.J. had won, which was definitely the worst-case scenario. Not just because he was an ass and would surely focus his demands for whatever on Marie, but also because he was a hog, and I was pretty sure he’d want to play with all three girls, leaving Brad and me out in the cold.

  The girls took a while to get freshened up, during which time C.J., Brad, and I passed the time drinking beer and having awkward conversations about sports and the weather. That’s another mystery about swingers. Once you’ve all seen each other naked and know all the details of which prick went into which hole, how do you then have a normal conversation. Would Marie and I ever be able to spend time with Claire and Brad without the discussion being dominated by how much my wife liked sitting on his dick or how skilled his wife is at drinking come? It made me wonder if we’d ruined that friendship. And then, of course, how would we ever get past my fucking Lena?

  I gulped my beer, feeling forlorn. I’d let my prick do my thinking for me, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like the consequences. And sure, I was perhaps the least to blame for what had happened, but then again, I hadn’t acted as a voice for reason either. Not that anyone was looking for my input, not any more than they would be in a little while when C.J. was crowned King of the Twats and given the opportunity to choreograph a kinky orgy with my wife surely at the center.

 

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