A Wicked Swingers Weekend Box Set: All Three Episodes! (First Time Bisexual Swinger Contemporary Romance ): All Three Episodes Value Priced

by Mia Moore

  My throat was tight and my eyes hot as I fell onto the bed. I wouldn’t expect Gus to miss me but Phil? Didn’t he love me enough to even come in and check on me? A tear rolled down my cheek and onto the coverlet, just as a hearty burst of laughter, resounded from the patio.

  My fists slammed onto the satin surface of the bed, jaw jutting forward under pursed lips. Oh yeah? It was okay for Phil and Gorilla to sit in the sun, getting wasted, wearing only a smile…no thought of whoever might see them…How would he like it if I showed up? Out there? Naked? That would fix his little red wagon.

  I sat up and fingers fumbled on the buttons of my blouse, finally just tearing at the fabric, buttons pinging onto the floor. Fuck it—the wine had already ruined it. I unhooked the clasp of the bra and tossed it on Phil’s pillow. Take that, Mr. Organized.

  Springing up from the bed, bare boobs jiggling, and my hand thrust out for balance, I unsnapped my jean skirt. With fingers clawing into the denim and lace panties, I pushed them down my hips and thighs, kicked them high into the air, hoping they’d join the bra on HIS side.

  The sun was lower in the sky, a golden orb reflecting sparkling ripples on the water of the pool. I grabbed my glass and pushed the sliding screen open so hard that it banged like a shotgun before bouncing back an inch.

  Both men turned to see me step out onto the flagstone step and then to the patio.

  “Holy shit, Maggie!” Phil started to rise but Gus was way ahead of him.

  Chapter 6: Gus

  Oh fuck. There was no mistaking the stagger and quick two-step recovery in her gait, strolling casually across the flagstones—she was drunk. My eyes closed for a second, legs heavy as lead as I considered the situation. I’d been a total asshole and this was the result.

  Phil sprinted towards her, shielding and propping her body against his own, which was a good thing considering how close she came to falling again. I grabbed a towel that had been lying nearby and walked toward them, holding it in front of me like some kind of sail or something.

  I tried not to but hey, I’m a guy, sue me. The curve of her breast blossomed beside Phil’s side, the swell of her hip before her long tanned leg appeared beside his. Okay, no T’s and A’s but that was a good thing.

  With the end of the towel in my fist, I placed my hand on her back and somehow managed to slide the other end between her and Phil. In a flash, the two ends were tucked securely together at her left shoulder blade—exactly the way I’d been taught. Who ever thought I’d have to actually do it to my buddy’s wife?

  I stepped back and watched Phil lead Maggie to the chair at the table. That was fine. Her body was now demurely covered and more importantly with the amount of wine she’d consumed, her head was out of the sun.

  Water. I raced across the patio, into the kitchen and ran a tumbler full of cold water from the tap. When I returned, Phil was seated facing her, his hands holding hers between his knees, looking into her eyes. I set the glass next to him and strode to get another towel to drape over my hips.

  “Oh sh—sure, it’s okay for YOU and Gor…” A hiccup followed. “I mean Gus, to waltz around buck naked but—”

  When I turned to join them, Phil was holding the glass of water to Maggie’s lips, insisting she swallow. She took a couple of gulps and batted his hand away, spilling half of it onto the ground. Her eyes were narrow, lips pursed as she turned to consider me.

  “Maggie. I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. Look, I’m covered.” I risked a smile. “Nothing to see here. Move along folks.”

  She continued scowling for a few moments before her eyebrow rose and the corner of her mouth softened upward. “I wouldn’t say nothin’. Not that I saw, anyways.” The remark was punctuated by another hiccup.

  Her head fell forward and hand rose to cover her face, shoulders twitching up and down. Oh shit. Was she crying? What an asshole I am.

  Her hand flew out, missed the first try but then connected with Phil’s arm, awkwardly patting him as she raised her head, eyes closed but laughing quietly. “A double negative. Oh fuck, it’s a good thing ole’ Missus Brown isn’t grading me on that one.”

  Phil and I exchanged a quick look and then turned to watch Maggie. The muscles in my neck began to uncoil even though I had no right to even BEGIN to relax. She was absolutely plastered but at least she didn’t seem mad anymore. After a minute more of giggles, she picked up the glass and drained it.

  “Maggie, maybe you’d better lay down for a while. Have a nap and when you wake up, I’ll have dinner ready for you.” Phil could have been talking to a five year old, his tone was so soft, the words slow and well enunciated. He rose to his feet and took his wife’s hand.

  She snatched it away, her elbow making contact with the glass on the table and knocking it over. She glanced at it and then turned back to her husband, a smile blossoming on her lips. Her hand swept back to where it’d been, and with index finger pointing out she touched the end of his penis.

  Oh fuck. He was still naked.

  His fingers closed over hers and slowly he pulled her hand to the side. “Maggie. This is not—”

  “Fuck you Phil!” Once more she jerked her hand out of his. Her eyes flashed fire looking up at him and then, just like that, her features transformed…a smile on her lips, and eyes becoming soft and sultry.

  “You started it. You and…” She turned to look into my eyes and for the first time, since I’d known her, sexiness oozed. The tight-ass bitch had left the building. Now I could see what Phil saw in her. Too bad she had to be drunk to let it out.

  The tip of her tongue trailed along her lower lip and toyed at the corner as she continued to watch me. Oh fuck. It wasn’t the time or place to get a woody but if she kept doing that…Baseball. Think baseball.

  She turned back to look up into Phil’s eyes. “Seeing all these bare…” Her gaze dropped and once more she reached for his cock. This time he didn’t fight her when she placed her fingers around it. “Cocks. I’m horny.”

  Her head swiveled to me, lips smiling, “You don’t mind do you, Gus?”

  Fuck! Thoughts and images of baseball vanished. Her full pouty lips, now so kissable, the curve of her slender neck, shoulders and down to the cleavage, body naked and ready under that towel. My cock got hard so fast it would have hit the underside of the table, if not for the towel.

  “It’ll just be a quickie when Phil tucks me in. He won’t be long.” She rose to her feet, hand still holding onto his cock which had gotten hard.

  I sunk lower into the chair, the wind completely out of my sails, totally heavy and flat, flaccid even.

  Phil put his arm over her shoulder, pointing her in the direction of the bedroom, and turned his gaze to me, shaking his head and mouthing ‘No way’. It barely registered as I sat glued to my chair.

  When they entered the doorway and disappeared I sighed and got up. I needed a beer. My big toe banged into the iron table leg and I let out a soft curse. Hobbling across the patio, my toe throbbing, unlike my dick, I berated myself. What was I thinking? This was Phil and Maggie, not one of the swinger couples I’d hooked up with on vacation. Idiot. Leave it to me to jump to conclusions. Always thinking with the little head when a pretty woman was nearby.

  And God, was she pretty. I opened the fridge and once more plucked a bottle from the shelf. Hell, better make it two in case Phil was stupid enough to just leave her there. I walked through the doorway and there he was, just sitting down once more at the table.

  I guess that’s what happens when you’re married as long as they were. That respect thing. Love.

  I took a seat at the table and handed the beer to him. Sometimes I envied guys like him.

  Chapter 7: Phil

  It wasn’t the sun that caused the heat in my cheeks watching Gus return with two beers in his paws. Jesus. What a disaster.

  Not that Maggie was totally to blame. No, Gus’d been teasing and taunting her and she’d had enough. I should never have subjected her to this visit. She couldn’t sta
nd the guy and well…who could blame her?

  But still…Did she have to get drunk and stagger out nude? Let’s not even talk about coming on to me with my best friend watching.

  I took the beer from his hand and watched him take a seat across from me. “That was…” I shook my head slightly and took a long swig of beer.

  “Hey, don’t be too hard on her. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have teased her and—”

  I slammed the bottle onto the table and strained forward, my jaw set. “Damned right. That’s my WIFE you were ogling not some two bit skank you picked up in a bar. And then the teasing.” I looked to the side and sucked in a long breath, trying to control myself so I wouldn’t say something I’d regret. The guy was an old friend, a bit down on his luck and hell, his foot was usually in his mouth. I knew that.

  “Why’d you have to take your clothes off? I could have lent—”

  “ME! Take a look at yourself buddy, you’re still starkers. You could have said something instead of stripping down yourself, if it was that big a deal.” He’d been advancing across the table as he spoke and now we were almost nose to nose.

  I closed my eyes and started to laugh. When he joined in, the tension evaporated. We stayed that way, laughing at the day for a couple of minutes. Finally, he recovered himself, and pointed to the pool. “Get some clothes on will ya?”

  Once more we burst out laughing but I got up to get a towel. Somehow, we’d talk this through, just like we had in school. And Maggie…well…I’d figure that out later, when she’d slept it off.

  I sat down once more, the towel tucked neatly around me.

  “I’m sorry buddy. I pushed the envelope, didn’t I?” His eyes were wide, his mouth pulled back in a grimace. “I can leave now before she wakes up. But I’d have to take a cab.”

  I sighed and felt my heart sink lower. He was probably right that he couldn’t stay but, not yet. Maggie might be pissed, embarrassed or whatever but he was going to stay the night. It might mean I’d clean out the stores in Chicago shopping with her but, fuck it.

  “Stay the night. We’ll figure it out in the morning.” I pulled my lips between my teeth, stifling the chuckle that threatened to erupt. Maggie was going to be soooo embarrassed. She’d kill me later but by God, it was funny now.

  “What?” He took a slug of beer and set the bottle down. “What’s so funny?”

  “Maggie. Don’t ever tell her I said so but it WAS kind of funny. So unlike her.” My hand rose to cover my mouth and once more the laughter was on.

  “Oh my God, when she touched your cock…just the tip of her finger, trying to be so dainty.” Gus bent over holding his sides, his head swaying back and forth as a chuckle out.

  I cleared my throat to change the pitch of my voice, imitating her, “I’m horny.”

  Gus slapped the table again and again, his eyes tearing up, he laughed so hard. He straightened in his chair, the muscles of his face twitching as he tried to smooth them. Finally, with eyes wide, lips apart, his tongue rolled over his lower lip.

  Oh my God! If he didn’t stop I was going to piss myself laughing.

  When we’d regained ourselves his face became serious, but with a dreamlike quality, gazing at the pool. “All kidding aside, she’s a pretty sexy woman. You’re not going to believe this but when she said she was horny, after the whole tongue thing and looking at me…” He turned to face me and dropped his gaze. “Forget it.”

  My breath caught in my throat and I leaned over the table towards him. “What? What were you going to tell me? Jesus, from the way we were laughing earlier at the whole situation, you can level with me, you know.” Oh shit. He probably thought she’d been coming on to him. Better set THAT straight.

  He glanced at me a few times silently, looking at the bottle of beer in his hand. “I thought she meant a threesome.”

  I flew out of the chair! “WHAT?” My mouth gaped open, eyes blinking a few times to focus him and more importantly what I thought he’d said.

  “You heard me. A threesome.” His mouth pulled to the side and his head tilted off at an angle.

  HolymotherofGod! My heart skipped a beat as the world that I knew turned upside down. Sure, I’d heard of threesomes. Hell, sometimes Maggie and I watched porn to get the motor primed and there’d been lots of threesomes in them but this was the REAL world for God’s sake, not some porno fuckfest.

  I flopped down into my chair, my mouth still open wide enough to catch flies.

  “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything—again, opening the mouth to change feet.” He stood up and gestured with the empty beer bottle, asking if I wanted another.

  “After that statement? Fuck. I need another.” I watched him turn and start to walk into the house. “Better make it two more.” I called after him.

  Once more my mouth fell open, almost forgetting to breathe as I sat there. My God. The way he’d said it, like it was an everyday thing. What had he been up to in the years since school? More importantly, what kind of people did he think Maggie and I were that he’d even THINK such a thing?

  A flash of the three of us naked on a bed, probably inspired by the films I’d watched with Maggie popped into my head. Immediately, my cock swelled up.

  No. This isn’t right. I pushed at my cock, tucked it into the crease where my thigh met my groin. Can’t think of that.

  Oh shit. That’s like trying to not think of a pink elephant. But better a pink elephant than Gus pounding his cock into my wife. Oh my God, there it is again, damned prick with a mind of its own. I shifted in the chair trying to control the throbbing mass my cock had become.

  Oh double shit. He was on his way back. I pulled my chair closer, so that my lap was hidden under the table.

  He set the beers in front of me and there was a sheepish smile on his face when he spoke. “How about those White Sox? What do you think the chances are for them in the series?”

  My eyes were gaping windows watching him take a seat again. “Fuck the White Sox.”

  “It would be hard and they wouldn’t like it, I’m sure.” He chuckled softly before once more casting that sheepish grin. “Okay. I’ve done it. Hell, even done the whole orgy thing. It’s fun; I’ll tell you that much.”

  Breath gushed out of my mouth and I shook my head from side to side, my eyes never leaving his. “The hell you will,” in my best Clint Eastwood imitation. “Spill it.”

  He rolled his eyes and sighed as if he wasn’t dying to tell me. Maybe he wasn’t, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook.

  “It’s usually on vacation, in Hedonism, but there’re clubs around here, too. Usually, I’m the loner…No steady girl, as you know…Couples, married couples, like a guy to join them sometimes. You know, the guy gets off watching his woman get fucked by another man and of course, the woman...” His grin became wide and his chest puffed out, “What woman can resist Gusto? That’s what they call me y’know. Gusto.”

  “Holy shit on a shingle!”

  “Yeah…kinda. It’s pretty hot stuff.” His gaze dropped once more to the beer bottle, fingers toying at the label. “I hope you’re not offended that I thought that Maggie…well, you know.”

  I sat back in my chair and ran my fingers from my forehead to the back of my neck, holding the knots of muscle, trying to keep my head from flying off onto the flagstones. I watched the sky where a hawk swooped down and floated up once more, caught on a cross wind.

  What did I think? The erection that still pushed against the cotton towel was still there and that wasn’t helping to sort out my thoughts. Was it any wonder he’d misinterpreted Maggie’s actions? With his history, it was almost understandable.

  “No harm, no foul.” I dry scrubbed my face in my hands and when I looked at him again, I managed a smile. “Just don’t think that Maggie will be calling you Gusto.” Even as I said it, I knew in my bones it was a lie.

  Chapter 8: Maggie

  Oh my God. Who took a piss in my mouth? My tongue felt huge, stuck to my palate and I smack
ed my lips before grimacing. I turned my head and saw the wine bottle half empty (wasn’t that supposed to be half-full as the optimists say?). Through the patio door, night had fallen.

  My hand flew to my head and I squeezed my eyes shut as the afternoon unfolded in my mind’s eye. SHIT! The wine, getting so pissed off at Gus and Phil and then…I bumped my head up and down against the pillow a few times. WALKING NAKED OUT ONTO THE PATIO? Oh shit, shit, shit.

  I sat up and felt the towel slip open and fall to my lap. Oh God, no. Gus had draped this around me before I’d acted so stupid, licking my lips, fingering Phil’s cock…Did I really say ‘I’m horny.’?

  I fell back onto the soft bed, my arms folded across my face. If only I could hide from the world, like this forever.

  Phil’s laugh followed by the deep rumble of Gus’s voice broke the spell. I had to get up and face the music. Oh well, I deserved it and it could have been sooooo much worse.

  Gus had actually put a towel around me. He hadn’t made any stupid, lewd comment but he’d been…oh my God I never thought I’d see the day when Gus Miller was actually a gentleman. I’d been no lady, but at least he’d been decent.

  I propped myself up on my elbows and rolled out of bed, catching myself when my feet threatened to go on strike. I sighed and walked over to my closet, slowly, taking care lest the headache deep in my brain surfaced, in all it’s painful glory. The smell of onions simmering, drifted into my nostrils as I donned my terry bathrobe and plodded out of the room.

  It was the picture of domestic bliss, Phil setting the table with the salad and plates while Gus stood at the stove, a wooden spatula in his hand stirring something in the frying pan. Must be the onions.

  I cleared my throat and marched straight to the sink, poured a tall glass of water for myself, ignoring their silent stares. Were they smirking? I felt my shoulders droop, gulping until the glass was empty.

  “How are you feeling?” Phil’s voice was gentle in my ear, his hand resting lightly on my back.