In our marathon fucks away from Strathmore, Tara enjoyed my cock for a long time. And when she was getting exhausted, she knew just how to blow my top.
Another side effect of Strathmore was that we tried many new things. Spice was added to our lovemaking when we were at our apartment. We had a fuck session in our bathroom with baby oil drizzled over our bodies. That basically started as wrestling, and then it turned into me thrusting in her like mad, and her cries were as loud as Savannah’s had been. And we’ve played strip poker. We ate food off each other, then licked and licked until our partner hit the ceiling. I fucked her standing up, after my arms and legs grew strong enough. Anal wasn’t in the regular rotation, but it appeared now and then. Same thing with facials. She had never done that before me, but she brought it out on special occasions. She knew it was one of the tricks to get me off quickly.
Yes, we’re still together.
Through all that insane wildness of Strathmore, we’re still together. And we got married. I don’t regret it for a moment.
As I gaze out the airplane’s window, memories of our past lovers float on the window like a movie. Gwen, with her cute face and hot ass and bedroom boldness … Betty, with her equally hot ass and love of anal sex … Julie, with her big jugs, and who loved titty-fucking and riding cowgirl … Savannah, with her sugahs and Southern accent and her big jugs, too … Luke, with his thick cock and muscles … Derek, also with muscles—and the ability to fuck Tara standing up for a long time … Kevin, with his long spear and fondness for my wife … Trisha, the fun-loving, perky, ponytailed brunette who always had tons of energy to fuck vigorously … Vivian, the blonde show-off diva who always wanted to be in control … Ashley, with short blonde hair and nice rack and nice smile … Wanda, who claimed I gave the best pussy licking at Strathmore … Kiefer, with his distinguished gray hair and thick slab of cock that made Tara yell in ecstasy … the club’s masseuse, who gave the slowest, best handjobs I have ever had and who enjoyed watching my come spurt … Claire, the gorgeous redhead who loved fucking my wife and me, and who looked so good underneath me or above me or gazing up at me during a double-team blowjob.
So many faces. So much pleasure. My heart thuds quicker with some of the faces more than others. Not simply from lust, but from a deep affection. It’s not like the love that I feel for Tara, though. But I still carry a deep affection for Julie, Gwen, and Claire. What was it that made me feel more for them?
Ah, who knows? I certainly can’t figure out how love and affection actually work. Lust is much easier to figure out than those. There are specific things that really turn me on, and lust was a regular feeling during our swinging adventures. Love and affection popped up much less often.
I know that Tara has also thought a lot about the men and women we’ve had sex with. She lusted after many of them: Luke, Kiefer, and Derek come immediately to mind. But there were other hot men at Strathmore that she drooled over. But which ones did she fall for? Something closer to love than lust. Kevin and Derek are the names that jump up. And there’s Claire, too. She and Tara hit it off at a much deeper level than mere lust.
Yeah, we’ve been touched on many levels by the people we’ve met along the way. Touched in those exhilarating places that bring you orgasmic bliss—but also touched in the heart.
It’s amazing to think how we stumbled into the swinging lifestyle. An innocent Christmas party turned into an orgy because a desperate guy got drunk on eggnog, whipped out his dick, and demanded satisfaction. Then daring women had lined up to give him that satisfaction by blowing him.
The orgy ignited from that inspiration—as did our sex adventures. From a Valentine’s date with Claire, to a bungalow date with Kiefer, to the Strathmore Club with lots of lovers, to our honeymoon at Lujuria with the two couples.
All of it has been amazing and tremendous and mind-blowing.
Fantasy turned into reality.
Tara squeezes my hand. She asks, “What are you thinking about? You look lost in thought.”
I turn away from the airplane window that served as a kind canvas for my memories. I turn my attention to my wife’s beautiful, smiling face.
I squeeze her hand back. “I’ve been thinking about the crazy stuff we’ve done.”
She nods. “Are you glad you married me?”
The question surprises me, and it launches other memories. Ones that don’t have anything to do with swinging and other women. Ones with just us.
Because those times with just Tara and me have also been amazing and tremendous and mind-blowing. Seeing her eyes look back up at me as we made love. Her face as she ate something I cooked, and she complimented me on the dinner, saying I should cook more often. The way she put her legs on my lap sometimes, when both of us were reading the newspaper or books on the couch. How she loved bouncing on my lap on our couch. The arguments we’ve had on that couch, her eyebrows pushed together in anger. The make-up sex we’ve had that felt good on my dick, but even more so in my heart—relief pouring through me that we weren’t fighting any longer. Canoeing with her in the Everglades, and how it seemed like we were the only people left in the world. Even in a crowd, other people fell by the wayside—like at the beach, when she walked from the ocean back to our beach blanket, and she looked gorgeous in her string bikini. Gorgeous in lingerie she wore to turn me on. Gorgeous in shorts as we hiked in nature. Gorgeous in one of my button-down shirts she threw on during a lazy weekend morning.
So many gorgeous looks, so many gorgeous memories.
Then her face, as she walked down the aisle towards me. Her face and body glowing in white, a burst of brightness in the lush tropical garden.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m glad I married you.”
Tara looks serious now. Her smile has eased off. “Good. Because this is for the rest of our lives. I love you too much to share you any more.”
She’s right. As crazy and wild as our swinging has been, it’s a gorgeous thing that we’ve fallen in love. That’s a fantasy turned into reality, too. Not everyone finds this. Not everyone is incredibly lucky as us.
We’ve been tested many times. And we’ve made it through.
“That’s right,” I say. “There’s only us now.”
As we kiss, I know we’re going to make it for the rest of our lives.
*****
Our apartment. Our bedroom. Our marriage bed. We slowly undress each other.
“I love you,” I say, while looking into Tara’s eyes.
“And I love you.”
We kiss. Deep and loving and wonderful. Hands caress the other’s body. All those other bodies are gone. Now it’s just us. Husband and wife.
“Evie Stevie,” Tara whispers.
“Not sex?” I ask. “It would be a good way to reconnect. Face to face, loving each other.”
Tara nods. “It would be, and we’ll do that after dinner. Right now, I want our balanced way. I come, you come. Evie Stevie. It’s the best position for that. Always has been for us.”
I nod back and wordlessly lie down. She sits on my face, then stretches out on top of me. Her pussy is dewy moist. She’s already turned on, maybe she’s been thinking about this as we landed in Miami, and then we drove back home. Back to our warm and wonderful home.
As I lick my wife’s pussy, thrills and love course through me. I love her like crazy, and I want to show her in so many different ways. This is merely one of them, and I’ll try my best to flow my love from my heart through my lips and tongue. Afterward, there’ll be other ways, but this way belongs in this gorgeous moment.
As her lips clasp my hard cock, I dive inside the ocean of my wife’s mouth.
Like I’ve said many times before, you marry a woman like this.
—END—
Thank you for reading. Interested in more? You can find more of my erotica at Amazon.
© 2015 August MacGregor
A Tale of Swingers
Tara & Steve: A Tale of Swingers Page 42
