“We don’t know that they were actually at the convention.” Cru shrugged. “We're not even sure they are a couple. They could be sisters or something.”
“Now you sound like Rebecca.”
“What was your plan? Stroll over there, point to the bag and say, 'So ya have a good week?'” Cru leaned forward and was winking and gesturing wildly.
“We had a fabulous time, but it would have been even better if you were there.”
There they were—Iman and Halle in the flesh. It was the dark chocolate Amazon that spoke.
“I'm Mona and this is my partner, Erica. We decided to swing by and say hello.” It was corny, but it broke the ice.
Peri didn't miss a beat. “I'm Peri and this is my partner, Cru. Please join us for dinner.”
Erica was the one with the suspicious shopping bag. “Are you sure? We don't want to impose.”
Cru found her tongue again. “It's no problem. We're stuck here for a while, might as well make friends.”
“We like making new friends.” Mona sat next to Peri. “I take it you ladies are trying to get back North. We're from Albany. Where do you call home?”
“Jersey City. We're practically neighbors—give or take a couple of hours.” When Peri passed a menu to Mona, her fingers lightly grazed the woman’s forearm.
The waitress came back and was very perplexed by the new faces at the table. “Do you two want something to drink, too? Let me get you a couple of menus.”
“No need,” Cru said before the woman vanished again. “Everyone is ready to order now.”
They chatted and flirted through salads and light appetizers. Peri loved being the center of attention. Mona and Erica were clearly under her spell.
Cru sat back and watched the three interact. Away from the not-quite-in-laws, she was finally free to look at women and see sensuality bubbling just underneath the surface. Erica’s nipples had hardened, and every time she breathed, part of a tattoo peeked from under her satin shirt. Mona liked talking with her fingertips. She could hardly get out a sentence without touching a forearm or caressing the back of a hand. Peri’s eyes always sparkled with mischief, as if she knew your most secret kinky, fantasies and wanted to help fulfill them.
It was Erica who asked the question that had been lingering in the air. “So, do you two like to play?”
No one had actually asked outright before and Cru found herself fumbling with the answer. “Yes, but not in any kind of formal way. We don't go to parties or anything like that.”
“But,” Peri added, “if we are at a club and the mood is right, we may not go home alone.”
After exchanging a glance with Erica, Mona licked her lips and smiled. “We’ve booked a room at the airport Holiday Inn, and you’re welcome to join us. We can order dessert, watch a little television, relax, and you won’t be more than ten minutes away from the terminal.”
A wicked smile spread across Peri’s lips. “What do you think, Cru?”
“I think you deserve a sweet treat.”
* * *
It was a nice room with a queen sized bed, a sitting area, and a kitchenette. Mona kept her word about dessert, and it was not long before room service appeared with hot fudge sundaes draped with extra whipped cream.
Peri had slipped off her shoes and got comfortable in the recliner. She winked at Cru and then looked at Mona. “I want your cherry.”
“Watch this,” Cru whispered to Erica.
Mona took a cherry, made sure it was drenched in cream, and dangled it just above the goddess’s lips. Peri’s tongue wrapped around the fruit and took the entire piece into her mouth. In less than a minute, the stem re-emerged tied around the pit. There was applause all around.
Cru felt Erica’s nose nuzzle against her ear. “That was impressive, but what kind of tricks can you do?”
Goosebumps shot up her arm and the sundae Cru was holding tilted too far to the left spilling warm sticky sauce on her pants. “Fuck!” Rubbing it with a napkin didn’t help. “I’ll take care of this and be right back.” She went to the bathroom, stripped off her jeans, and tried tackling the stain with a washcloth and soap.
“You aren’t supposed to rub a stain.” Erica sat the lopsided sundae on the sink, took the cloth and began blotting the stain. “Rubbing only makes it spread and pushes it deeper into the fiber.” Then, she pulled a stain removal pen from her pocket and the dark spot all but disappeared.
Cru was suitably impressed. “Now, that is a neat trick.”
“I have two kids. There’s not a stain around that I haven’t mastered by now.” Erica took a step back and admired the shapely form before her. “I didn’t figure you to be the type to wear boxers.”
Looking down, Cru realized that she’d thrown on the pair that had a gigantic smiling face over the slit. “They just feel good, you know. Give the illusion of not wearing any underwear at all.” Maybe it was the bathroom light or the awkward silence, but Cru began to sweat. “Look. Peri usually plays and I like to watch. Seeing her cum is so amazing, she’s so beautiful—”
“What?” Erica’s voice was thick with disappointment. “Well, if that’s what you want to do, let’s see what they are up to.”
“No, wait. I’m just saying that’s what we usually do.” She sighed. “I feel like a teenager again—and that’s not a good feeling.”
“I make you nervous? I’m not going to bite. Just tell me what you like.”
Cru let her fingers drift to the hem of Erica’s shirt. “What I’d like is to see the rest of that tattoo.”
“You noticed it, huh? I knew you were checking me out at the restaurant.” Erica took off her top and leaned against the door frame. On her abdomen were two dragons that formed a heart. Their intertwined tails disappeared under the skirt.
“This is amazing.” Cru got on her knees to take a closer look. Twisting her hips, Erica let her skirt and panties fall to reveal it all. The tails melding into a crisp arrow pointed to the top of her bush. “Did it hurt?”
“One person’s pain is another person’s pleasure. Besides, it’s a great incentive to stay away from carbs.”
Cru pointed at the ice cream. “What are we going to do with all of this ice cream?”
“Just because I'm through, doesn't mean you can't enjoy it.” Erica took a spoonful and let it dribble down her stomach.
Cru met the river of chocolate as it rolled past the dragons' tails. As she rose to lick and suck the trail of sweetness, she caressed Erica's calves and cupped her firm ass. The bra hooks were released and a few seconds later the breasts were completely free. “That’s my trick.”
Erica braced herself as Cru gently dipped her breasts into the bowl but the shock of cold made her shout. Then, Cru’s mouth set to cleaning up the new mess and paid extra attention to the cream covered nipples. Erica gently pushed her away. “You better be careful or you’ll get chocolate all over you.”
“That’s exactly what I want.” Cru nearly tore off her shirt and shorts. “You all over me.”
Scooping the last of the cream on her fingertips, Erica let Cru suck them dry. “Now, give me a taste.” They wrapped their arms around each other and began kissing. Tentative at first, their tongues and limbs intertwined.
Cru reached back and turned on the shower. “Let’s clean up, so we can get really dirty.” The bathroom was filled with giggles and laughter as they lathered each other up.
“Assume the position,” Erica turned Cru toward the tiled wall and made her spread her legs. Reaching around, she palmed and squeezed her nipples while nibbling the back of her neck. “Are you still shy, baby?”
“No,” Cru managed to whisper between moans.
“Good.” Erica backed up under the water and put her leg on the side of the tub. “I hope you’re thirsty.”
Cru crouched down and watched the droplets of water slide against her glistening clit. Her tongue gently explored the delicious folds. She curved her tongue around the clit and sipped at the rivet of water cascadi
ng from it.
Erica gripped Cru’s shoulders, holding her in position, while she rode her face to the pentacle of pleasure. She wasn’t prepared to feel the tip of a tongue darting into her opening and lost her balance when the force of the orgasm pushed her back. Cru had wrapped her strong arms around Erica’s torso and wouldn’t let her fall.
After drying off, they tumbled out of the bathroom and fell across the bed. Erica pulled Cru on top of her. “You’re going to have to take another shower. You can’t get on a plane smelling like hot cream.”
“I said I wanted you all over me and I meant it.” The unmistakable sound of a hand smacking against flesh reverberated throughout the room. “It sounds like someone out there is getting a good spanking.”
“Want to watch?”
“How?”
Erica dimmed the lights and opened the closet door. When she got the angle just right, the mirror inside gave them a perfect view of the sofa. Peri was bent over the arm while Mona alternated between spanking and fucking her.
Peri was radiant. Her breasts were free and bobbing to the rhythm. Her eyes were partially closed and Cru knew that she was in her space. Anything could set her off now—a feather stroking her arm, a gentle breeze blowing against her back, hot breath against her ear . . . anything.
“Get on your knees,” Erica whispered. “Not all the way up. On all fours. Yes, like that.” Lying down next to her, she reached up to play with Cru’s clit. “Don’t look down at me or I’ll stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“No.” Cru wanted to clamp down on the fingers inside of her, but she stayed perfectly still.
“You watch her. I want to watch you.”
Erica matched Mona’s tempo and Cru felt herself losing control. She tried focusing on Peri but, when their eyes met, Cru gave in to the joy spreading through her body like a wildfire. She collapsed and Erica pulled her close. “You are beautiful when you cum, too.”
Bob & Carol & Ted (But Not Alice)
By M. Christian
“What are you afraid of?” Not spoken with scorn; with challenge though. This was Carol, after all. His Carol. The question was sweet, sincere, one lover to another: Really, honestly, what are you frightened of?
Robert fiddled with his glass of ice tea, gathering his thoughts. He trusted Carol—hell, he’d been happily married to her for five years so he’d better—but even so, it was a door he hadn’t opened in a long time.
They were sitting in their living room, a gentle rain tapping at the big glass doors to the patio and dancing on the pale blue surface of the pool beyond. In the big stone fireplace, a gentle fire licked at the glowing embers of a log.
Carol smiled and, as always, when she did Bob felt himself sort of melt, deep inside. Carol . . . it shocked him sometimes how much he loved her, trusted her, loved to simply be with her. He counted himself so fortunate to have found the other half of himself in the tall, slim, brown-haired woman. They laughed at the same jokes, they appreciated the same ear of jazz, they both could eat endless platters of sashimi, and—in the bedroom, the garage, the kitchen, in the pool, in the car, and everywhere else the mood struck them—their love-making was always delightful, often spectacular.
“I don’t know,” Bob finally said, taking a long sip of his drink. Needs more sugar, he thought absently. “I mean I think about it sometimes. Not like I don’t like what we do, but sometimes it crops up. A lot of the time it’s hot, but other times it’s kinda . . . fuck, disconcerting, you know? Like I should be thinking of what we’re doing, what I want to do with you—” A sly smile, a hand on her thigh, kneading gently, “—instead of thinking about, well, another guy.”
Carol leaned forward, grazing her silken lips across his. As always, just that simple act—one sweeping kiss—made his body, especially his cock, stiff with desire. “Sweet,” she said, whispering hoarsely into his ear, “I don’t mind. I think it’s hot. I really do.”
Bob smiled, flexing his jean-clad thighs to relish in his spontaneous stiffness. “I know. It just feels weird sometimes. I can’t explain it.”
“What do you think about? Talk to me about it. Maybe that’ll help a little bit.” Her hand landed in his lap, curled around his shaft. “Pretend I’m not here,” she added, with a low laugh.
He responded with a matching chuckle. “Oh, yeah, right,” he said, leaning forward to meet her lips. They stayed together, lips on lips, tongues dancing in hot mouths. Bob didn’t know how to respond, so he just followed his instincts. His hand drifted up to cup Carol’s firm, large breasts. Five years and she still had the power to reach down into his sexual self, to get to him at a cock and balls level. But there was something else.
“I think it’s hot,” Carol said, breaking the kiss with a soft smack of moisture. “I think about it a lot, really. The thought of you with—what was his name again?”
Bob doubted Carol had really forgotten, but he smiled and played along. “Charley. College friend.”
Charley: brown curls, blue eyes, broad shoulders, football, basketball, geology, math, made a wicked margarita. Charley: late one night in their dorm room, both drunk on those wicked margaritas, Charley’s hand on Bob’s knee, then on his hard cock. “We fooled around for most of the semester, and then his father died. Left him the business. We stayed in touch for a year or so, then, well, drifted away. You know?”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Carol said, smiling, laughing, but also tender, caring, knowing there was a Charley-shaped hole somewhere deep inside Bob. Carefully, slowly, she inched down the zipper on his shorts until the tent of his underwear was clearly visible, a small dot of pre-come marking the so-hard tip of his cock. “I think about it when we play. When we fuck.”
Bob suspected, but hearing Carol say it added extra iron to his already throbbing hard-on. Carol normally wasn’t one to talk during sex. This new, rough, voice was even more of a turn on.
Bob felt a glow start, deep down. Even to Carol, Charley was something private—but hearing Carol’s voice, he felt like he could, really, finally share it. “He was something else, Charley was. Big guy. Never would have thought it to look at him. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“No, it doesn’t. You’re speaking from the heart, sexy. Since when is anyone’s heart logical or fair?” Carol had gotten his shorts down, quickly followed by his underwear. Bob’s cock had never seemed so big or so hard in his life. It was like two parts of his life had met with the force of both working to make him hard . . . so damned hard. Carol kissed the tip, carefully savoring the bead of come just starting to form again at the tip.
He smiled down at her, taking a moment to playfully ruffle her hair before allowing himself to melt down into the sofa. “I wouldn’t call him ‘sweet’ or ‘nice’, but he could be sometimes. He just liked . . . fuck . . .” The words slipped from his mind as Carol opened her mouth and, at first—slowly, carefully—started to suck on his cock. “Fuck . . . yeah. He liked life, I guess. I don’t even think he thought of himself as gay or anything. He just liked to fuck, to suck, to get laid, you know. But it was special. I can’t really explain it.”
“You loved him, didn’t you? At least a little bit?” Carol said, taking her lips off his cock for a moment to speak. As she did, she stroked him, each word a downward or upward stroke.
Bob didn’t say anything. He just leaned back and closed his eyes. He knew she was right but that was one thing he wasn’t quite willing to say—not yet. He’d come a long way, but that was still in the distance.
Carol smiled, sweetly, hotly, and dropped her mouth onto his cock again. This time her sucking, licking, stroking of his cock was faster, more earnest, and Bob could tell that she was aching to fuck, to climb on top of him and ride herself to a shattering, glorious orgasm. But she didn’t. Instead, she kept sucking, kept stroking his cock, occasionally breaking to whisper, then say in a raw, hungry voice: “I think it’s hot . . . not him just sucking your cock . . . but that you have had that. Bet sometimes . . . we loo
k at the same guy . . . and want to know what he’d be like . . . to suck . . . to fuck.”
Even though Bob was somewhere else, damned near where Carol wanted to be, he knew she was right. It was hot, it was special, and he recognized that. He wanted to haul her off her knees, get dressed, and bolt out the door to do just that. The kid who bagged their groceries sometimes at the Piggly Wiggly, that one linebacker, Russell Crowe—he wanted to take them home, take off their shirts, lick their nipples, suck their cocks, suck their cocks, suck their cocks . . .
Then something went wrong. Just on the edge of orgasm, Carol stopped. Bob felt slapped, like ice water had been dumped into his lap. He opened his eyes and looked, goggle-eyed as Carol got up off the floor, straightening her t-shirt over very hard nipples. “Didn’t you hear that? Of all times for someone to ring the fucking doorbell.”
* * *
Tugging up his pants, Bob rehearsed what he’d say: Mormons? Slam the door in their faces. Door-to-door salesman? The same. Someone needing directions? “Sorry, but you’re way off,” then do the same.
Just as Bob got to the living room door, he heard Carol, who’d been a lot more dressed to start with, saying. “Ted! How’s it hanging?”
Bob rounded the corner, a smile already spreading across his face. Of all the people to have knocked on their front door, Ted was probably the only one who would have understood.
Ted and his charming wife Alice lived just across town. Normally, Bob and Carol would never in a million years have crossed paths with them, but it so happened that Ted worked in the coffee place right across the street from where Bob worked. After six months of going back and forth, Bob finally struck up a conversation with Ted and found out, much to his delight, that the tall, sandy-haired young man and he had a lot in common: the Denver Broncos, weekend sailing, and Russell Crowe movies. Bob and Carol felt very relaxed and even sometimes sexually playful around Ted and Alice—even going so far as to having a kind of sex party one night, when they all got way too wasted on tequila and some primo greenbud that Ted had scored the night before. All they’d done was watch each other fuck, but it had been more than enough to blast Bob and Carol into happy voyeuristic bliss and fuel their erotic fantasies for weeks afterward.
SWING! Adventures in Swinging by Today's Top Erotica Writers Page 19
