Chapter Seven
As they entered Sandy and Bob's house, all four of them felt a growing sense of sexual tension. Perhaps the tense voices of the two girls, or the slight tremble of their hands, or a faint almost imperceptible sexual perfume wafting from their womanhood caused the change of atmosphere. Even the darting of their eyes could have been a catalyst. After a few minutes no one spoke. Expectation hung in the air like ozone after a lightning storm and it thickened.
Finally Sandy asked Jan in a shaky voice, "Shall I tell them or will you?"
"I'll do it, I suppose, since Stan had the leading role."
"Role in what?" asked Stan.
"The little **** you guys carried out Sunday night. Or has it slipped your mind?"
"It's crossed my mind about ten thousand times."
"Tonight Sandy and I have something planned. If both of you do exactly what we tell you, you will be forgiven and will earn a reprieve. If you don't agree to our demands, you'll think the fires of hell are an igloo's front yard compared to the grief you'll suffer. Do you agree to our terms?"
"Lord, yes," said Bob, "I've been through hell these past few days and don't want it to get worse."
"Stan?"
"Huh? Yeah, well sure. Any hints to what we're letting ourselves in for?"
"We're going to play some little games. One's called Bumps and Grinds. The others come later." Bob and Stan wiggled their eyebrows and grinned knowingly at each other.
"Let's get started," said Stan.
"We'll play on the rug here in the ****** room," said Sandy, as she took the game box from a cupboard under the bookshelves. The picture on the box showed a pretty blond sitting with her legs tucked beneath her on a black furry rug, arms crossed in front of her large naked breasts, wearing only sheer black bikini panties. A slightly embarrassed come-hither smile donned her face. She sat on a rug in front of an open fire, with a half full glass of red wine on the floor next to the rug. The game board separated her from a handsome man still fully dressed in a suit and tie. A lighted candle burned in a holder in the middle of the board. The man held a pair of large dice in his hand and a mischievous grin showed on his face.
Stan and Bob worked their hands together as if they were trying to make a lather with soap and water. Jan smiled and said, "Don't get too frisky yet. Remember it's by our rules and we need some booze, ice and glasses."
The men choose a 1.75 liter of J&B scotch. The gals opted for a bottle of chilled Chablis. A large bucket of ice cubes, a small pitcher of water, tall glasses for the men and wineglasses for the women were placed strategically beside the board. Both wives hiked up their skirts to panty edge and sat across from each other. The men sat between them and mixed their drinks. Rather than using a candle for light as the game suggested, they kept two small table lamps lit to see the board and read the penalty cards.
"Pick out your plastic player marker. Green, red, yellow or orange," said Sandy. Bob chose red and that color started the game. He rolled an eight and landed on a space that said "sip card". He picked a card from the top of that stack and it required him to go forward five squares and take five sips of his scotch, which he did. Jan rolled next and landed on a strip square. Her card said player of your choice must strip one article of clothing. She nodded to Bob. Gone was his coat. Stan's roll produced a card requiring all to strip one article. The girls folded their jackets neatly behind them and pushed out their boobs for the men to admire. Along the way, Sandy drew a card which said do a no-no. She leaned across the board and kissed Jan full on the lips and gave Jan's left nipple a small tweak. The men squinted their eyes and exchanged looks of total confusion.
Between the sipping and stripping Sandy drew a card telling her to remove an article of clothing from any player without using her hands. She gazed slowly at each player before choosing Stan's pants. He stood up and Sandy walked around to him and got on her knees. She mouthed around his belly button and bit the cloth over the area where his cock had now grown. Stan cheated by helping to unhook the catch at the top of his fly, but Sandy got the zipper down by grabbing one side of his pants between her teeth and pulling hard. Gravity did the rest and Stan's pants slid down to bunch around his feet. His cockhead poked out the fly of his boxers. Sandy's lips were but a few inches away and she opened her mouth and laved him with her tongue for a few seconds before giving his glans a little love bite. "Don't stop," said Stan. Sandy looked at Jan. Jan shook her head, so Sandy returned to her place at the board.
Sandy sneaked a peek at Bob. His eyes were bleary and he had a shit-eating grin on his face. Sandy smiled at winked at Jan. The Scotch bottle showed its wounds. Bled half dry and losing more of itself with each round. The wine bottle looked sad with so little of its essence left. Jan drew a penalty card saying she must tell a joke. "Did everyone hear that Clinton has decided to use his marijuana defense concerning Monica?" All shook their heads. "He's saying she did put it in her mouth, but didn't swallow, so it doesn't count."
"I'd buy that defense," said Stan, with a tipsy leer.
"You would! So what if I don't like to swallow?" retorted Jan.
"You ought to try it," said Sandy, with a giggle. "It can be finger-licking good."
"Gross," said Jan. Within the half-hour Jan wore only her perfume, Sandy had only panties, see-through things that they were. Bob had a smile on his face and Stan still wore one sock. At her next turn, Jan drew a card telling her to sit on someone's lap for one round. She chose Bob and teased him terribly by wrapping a hand around his cock and then jerking her hand away. After two or three times of that he begged her to jerk it up and down a few times before taking her hand away. No luck.
The four of them had gotten awfully loose. And when Jan announced it was the final round, Sandy drew a card asking her to guess the measurements of any player. With her index and middle fingers of each hand, she wrapped the four fingers around the base of Stan's penis and then took the bottom two fingers and shifted them above the other two. Continuing this, her fingers climbed up his pole like sand lot baseball players use a bat to determine who's first up. "He's exactly five double fingers long," announce d Sandy. Jan arched an eyebrow. Sandy added, "So I cheated a smidgen and gave him extra credit for thickness."
When Jan announced that the game was finished, Bob inserted his hand between her partially opened thighs and began to tickle her pubic hairs. Stan brought Sandy's hand to his cock. Jan lifted Bob's hand away and stood up. Sandy also stood. The forlorn dopey looks on the half-***** men, almost made Jan relent, but too much time and planning had gone into the next phase.
Stan started to get up, but Jan placed a restraining hand on his shoulder and said, "Keep your seats, boys, the games aren't over. That was just a warm up. Remember how we make the rules?"
"I'm more than warmed-up," slurred Bob, "Send me in coach, I'm ready to score."
"There'll be plenty of time for that," said Sandy. The guys nodded their heads in anticipation.
Jan continued, "Sunday night, you two doped and boozed us up to where we didn't know what was done to us or by whom. Tonight the roles are going to be reversed. Get the props, Sandy."
Sandy returned from the hall closet with a box. Jan reached in and lifted out the two silk scarves and a small box. "These are to blindfold you and these ear plugs will muffle our voices so you won't know what comments we are making."
"Or moans and screams and such," chimed in Sandy. "And these cute little hankies will serve as gags."
Jan showed them the shower caps. "We're wearing these so our hair won't give us away. You fellows are going to be almost as much in the dark as we were on Sunday."
"Not fair. It's blatant cruelty. I'm surprised you haven't included whips and handcuffs," said Stan. Sandy and Jan exchanged glances and their eyes lit up. Bob pointed his finger at Stan and shook his head, as if to say you dum-dum.
"Two more rules," said Sandy, "your hands and feet will be tied to the bedposts. And if it's okay with Jan, I say we can remove the gags for awhile in case we want some tongue action."
"Of course," replied Jan, "why didn't I think of that?"
Sandy brought rope from a kitchen drawer and the girls led the guys upstairs to a guest bedroom with twin beds. After the men were tied and blindfolded, Stan said, "I hope the house doesn't catch on fire with us trussed up like this."
"It may get hot as fire in a few minutes and you'll get brownie points if our pussies smoke, but we won't let you burn down until all our are fires out. That's a promise." Once ears and mouths were plugged, the gals douched in the bathroom and applied the Opium perfume as starters. They decided against using the shower caps, since tied hands couldn't identify their hair "Should we start with our own husbands or swap?" asked Sandy.
"Swap!"
Sandy straddled Stan's right leg and moved the tips of her breasts up and down Stan's hairy chest. "Oooh," she moaned, before leaning down to kiss and love-bite his nipples. She licked and flicked her tongue beneath his chin. His head began to slowly move from side to side and Sandy felt his cock twitch against her stomach. Stan breathed heavily through his nose as Sandy butterfly kissed his lips, which were puffed up and ovaled by the white handkerchief. She grabbed a fold with her teeth and yanked out the gag. Stan took two huge breaths, and before he could speak, Sandy covered his mouth with her own. Tongues entwined and Sandy began undulating her hips against Stan's leg. Stan shoved and pushed his leg against her pussy trying to coax it over to his cock. Sandy stayed put and sucked Stan's lower lip into her mouth to wiggle her tongue back and forth across it.
When Sandy broke the kiss, she balled up the hankie and waited for Stan to open his mouth to say something. She stuffed his mouth full at the first opportunity, and listened to his, "Mmmph-mmmph-mmmph," before trailing her tongue down to his belly button. She fucked it with her tongue. He squirmed and made more muffled noises. Ticklish or a turn on?
Sandy continued south and blew hot breath on the head of his dick. She felt the moisture from her vagina streak across Stan's leg as she shifted position. She gently cupped his testicles and carefully sucked on each of his balls trying to get them in her mouth, but they had lifted so high in his scrotal sack that she couldn't quite manage it. The dim light sneaking in from the hall reflected drops of pre-come just inches away. She lifted and with the quick flick of a snake or a frog, tongued it away. "M-m-m-m. M-m-m-m." came from Stan. After a short swallow, Sandy took the head of his cock between her lips and let her head go down inch by agonizing inch until it touched the base of her throat. She wished Stan would quit wiggling. She sucked hard on his cock as she lifted her head back and it caused a popping sound on breaking free.
Stan kicked his feet up and down as far as the short slack of the ropes allowed. She enjoyed this bondage bit. She knew she drove him nuts but concern that he might come too soon kept her from sucking him any more. Now she would get her jollies. But she heard a loud moan and a scream of ecstasy from the adjacent bed.
Across the way, Jan had taken the more direct approach. For starters, she placed her knees in Bob's armpits, yanked out the gag and shoved her pussy against his open mouth. Like an obedient puppy dog he lapped contentedly, making long smooth strokes with his tongue. After a dozen or so of those, Jan grabbed his hair and held his head in place when his tongue found her clit.
Bob must have known the train had stopped at the station, because he curled his tongue around and around with a nip here and a nip there and finally a tiny bite on the small protrusion he had captured. Jan's eyebrows almost hit her hairline. The muscles of her vaginal walls spasmed and relaxed then contracted and fibrillated in wave upon wave. The orgasm blindsided her. Normally she felt it build. Normally she never completely lost control. Normally she might moan some and squeal a few times. This wasn't the time for normal. She screamed like a diving Stuka bomber at the highest speed of its dive. She released the dam of her juices much as bombs streak to their target. She exploded like a 1000 tons of TNT.
Even with earplugs, Stan lifted his head and searched with blind eyes as the sound waves broke through the barrier of his earplugs. Poor Bob twisted his head about too. More from the fear of drowning than the shrillness he thought came from a far away steam locomotive's whistle.
Jan collapsed backwards into the space between Bob's legs and lost consciousness for a moment. Sandy came to her and lifted her head. "You okay, Jan?" she whispered.
"Holy shit, blessed mother of good, I just flew over the cuckoo's nest," croaked Jan, as she struggled to control her panting. "Died and gone to the devil's den. Great place! Whew. Bob took me on quite a ride. I still feel roller coasters traveling up and down inside my pussy or it could be bumper cars having fender benders."
"I'm jealous. I get off with Bob big time, but I've never suffered the 'little death' before."
"Little death?"
"You know, passing out for a moment."
"I didn't know, but I'm ready to have another shot at it, if I stop short of needing an undertaker."
"Or blindness."
"What? Is it bad for your eyes?"
"No. Remember the guys' jerk-off-joke about just doing it till they need glasses?'
"Oh, Yeah. How's it going with you and Stan."
"Beautifully, until you blew the roof off the house. I'll have to check our homeowner's policy to see if it covers orgasms. If you do it again, you'll be famous. I can see the disclaimers now. Orgasm coverage included unless caused by Hurricane Jan."
"I wish I smoked. It'd be a great time for a cigarette break."
"Speak for yourself. My nipples are still hard. Speaking of hard, there are a couple of tent poles hanging around looking for a circus. Not hanging actually."
Jan glanced at the two stiff cocks. "My clit's so sore, so delectably sore, I'm not sure it will take more attention."
Sandy said, "You can't leave Bob up in the air like that. Literally! You better warn your tonsils that a truck's headed their way. A dump truck, if you'll ever learn to swallow."
"You don't mind slurping it down?"
"Nah, it's nutritious. A protein supplement. Non-fattening unless you're trying to get pregnant. But enough of this, I'm late for a date with a friendly little fellow who's not little at all."
Sandy crossed back over to Stan. Someone may have died, she thought, his flag's at half-mast. Again she took him in her mouth, and waved her magic wand that doubled as a tongue. When Stan's soldier stood at attention once more. She saluted it by rubbing one of her nipples up and down its length, and crawled higher on top of him than before. She slipped out the gag and put a breast to his lips. He kissed around her nipple and licked across it. Slowly he began to suck. Sandy began to squirm. She broke contact and positioned herself between his spread legs so his prong could nestle in her pubic hair for a moment before she moved back up to offer her other breast to his mouth. It felt s-o-o-o wonderful to have a strange man work on her nipples and she tried to push more of her breast into his mouth.
It was probably wicked to be doing this with another man. Did it add more to her enjoyment? She thought it did. Her pussy was wet and ready and she cursed at having to pull away from his mouth to slide herself down to his cock. Maybe tying his hands wasn't so smart, since he couldn't bend his back and keep titty contact. She felt his cock head at her lower entrance and used her hand to guide him in. He felt so warm and big and she controlled the deepness and speed of penetration. That was a plus: to have her own love stick to please her any way she decided. She pulled off him and rubbed the head of his peter back and forth across her clit. Round and round it goes. She pinched her nipple with her free hand. Waves of pleasure rippled through her nervous system. Synapse fondled synapse.
She again inserted him into her and sat up straight, beginning to bounce up and down. She toyed with her nipples and squeezed them harder as she increased the speed of pumping on his cock. Her head fell back as she rode the wild horse and the heat and pulsating she felt as he came and came pushed her into an orbit past earth's gravity. She floated in cyberspace with a hard dick sharing her space capsule. When the penis within her began its descent to softness, she fluttered back into reality like a lazy snowflake on a dark night.
Different, she thought, it was a wonderfully smooth and satisfying trip. She lifted away from Stan and gave the mushroom head of his penis a nice smooch. The smell of her douche was delightful and added to the taste of Stan's come. Sandy lay down beside Stan with her head on his furry chest and her right leg draped over his right leg so she could watch Jan perform. Jan's head bobbed up and down giving a classic blowjob. Maybe she could learn something from her, but doubted it. What was that cup and saucer doing on the nightstand?
Sandy watched as Jan broke away and took a small sip from the cup without swallowing. Back she went to her task and as Bob's dick disappeared into her mouth a tiny dribble of liquid spilled out of Jan's mouth and trickled into Bob's pubic hair. Bob clenched his right hand into a fist (she couldn't see his left hand) and fought with the rope that held his arm. His head twisted from side to side. Better be careful, Jan. Old Faithful's about to remain faithful and blow right on schedule. And there she blows, thought Sandy, as Bob's pelvis raised up and fucked Jan's mouth. She's a trooper, her mouth still clamped tight. She's swallowing!
Oh my god! Stay with it Jan. Suck that cock dry. Atta girl! Join the GGG, the Good Gulping Girls. Beautiful! A classy bit of work there. She's earned her Kleenex. The highest GGG award. You wear it in your breast pocket to show it can stay there. You don't need those anymore.
As Bob's manhood withered, Jan lapped it clean, looked over at Sandy and gave a thumbs up. Sandy gave an okay with her thumb and forefinger. Both went out into the hall and down to the bathroom. "What a night," said Jan, "I had a mind blasting orgasm, swallowed my first come, and feel my pussy is getting its walking legs back. I think it wants to stroll over to Stan's bed and give him a good fuck."
"Great blow job, Jan. What was in that cup?"
"Hot tea. I ran down to your kitchen, spooned a scoop of tea in a cup of water, popped it in the microwave and rushed back up. You were too involved to notice my absence. I like cream in my tea, so when Bob creamed me I told myself it was just like I liked it and it worked."
"So what's next? Do we untie them?"
"Nah, I'm ready for more action, but let's take the gags out. Only breathing through the nose when you're excited must be uncomfortable. Serves them right, of course, but we've made our point."
"Let's douche again and switch perfumes. We'll bet them they can't tell who did what to them."
"And if they guess right?"
"Lie, lie, lie."
"What should the bet be?"
"Hmm.I know: the Animal Rights Group would pitch a hissy, but there's a mink jacket to die for in the window at Ivan's Furriers."
"Why not go full-length. Jackets are only half a sin."
"Well said." Back in the room, the gals removed the gags and when the guys started to speak, the girls cupped their hands over the guy's mouths. They got the message.
Both wives attacked their own husbands and with a tease here, a suck there, and a kiss here and there, it got the wanted results and the women were completely sated. "What time is it?" asked Jan.
"Sleep time, but let me check the clock." When Sandy returned, she said, "It's a little past two. Time to unwrap?"
"Yeah, and we'll tell them they can fuck us now without the restraints or blindfolds."
"No way. My little love puddle is too sore."
"Don't worry. They've had it. Just wait."
With the scarves and ropes removed, the guys rubbed their wrists and ankles to ease the discomfort caused from chaffing. "I hope we've done our penance," said Stan. "It was, uh, interesting, but I like it the regular way better."
"Speak for yourself," said Bob, "I loved it."
"You would," said Sandy. They all laughed.
"It's only a little after two o'clock," said Jan. "We'll let you do us now so you can see and hear everything." Bob and Stan looked at each other, then down at their limp dicks and both shook their heads.
"No way, girls," said Stan.
"Oh? Last Sunday, actually last Monday morning, you confessed to fucking Sandy three times. Do we have to be drugged for you to accomplish that?"
"Hee-hee," said Stan, "that wasn't exactly the way it was."
"Then exactly how was it?"
Bob, seeing Stan's discomfort, said, "It wasn't that many. Just a little macho exaggeration."
"How many times?" demanded Sandy.
"Er, well, you see...."
"Once," said Stan sheepishly.
"Looks like our studs have turned into pussycats," said Sandy.
"Maybe it's time to trade 'em in on new models. Get a couple of divorces and pick us out some young trophy dudes to show off."
"But, but...," started Bob.
"Relax, honey," said Sandy, "we were just jerking your chains. You guys have served your sentences. You have a 'get out of jail free' card."
"I knew they were kidding," said Stan.
Jan lifted an eyebrow and said, "Don't be too sure."
"I'm bushed," said Bob. "I'm going to sleep. You and Jan can stay over if you want."
Jan walked over to Bob and rubbed her nipples back and forth across his arm. "You sure about that? We may jump you guy's bones in an hour or so."
"Time to go home," said Stan. "We'll make breakfast for you two in the morning."
"Wait a sec," said Sandy, "I'll grab some things and be right with you." Stan's and Bob's mouths dropped open in unison.
"Gotcha!" said Sandy. They all laughed and said good night.
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Chapter Eight
The following morning Sandy blinked open her eyes shortly after nine-thirty. Beside her, Bob slept on. She noticed his upper eyelids doing tiny shimmy-shakes and wondered if he dreamed about the wild times of the night before. How drastically would their lives change? Were they starting a journey that led to future problems or future fulfillment? As the intimacy with Stan and Jan became stronger, would it bind them closer together or drive a wedge through the heart of their relationship?
Her upbringing, and Jan's too, provided no cubby hole of leniency to house the activities of the past week, but it had added such excitement to their lives. They had crossed the Rubicon, like Julius Caesar, and ventured into uncharted lands. Not to fight and conquer, she hoped, but to only taste forbidden pleasures. Pleasures made that much sweeter because they reeked of sin. Fun sin. Sin that meant no harm nor sought any special gain.
Who said that sex wasn't dirty unless you did it right? They were wrong. Last night everything went perfectly with the guys and she didn't feel one bit dirty. The harmless showing of herself to the fellows at the restaurant made her juices flow. Probably because their reactions reaffirmed she was sexually attractive. Does that confirm a basic insecurity? Screw it. Like Scarlett, she would worry about all those things tomorrow. No, day after tomorrow or maybe next week. Right now she craved a big mug of coffee and her hair must be a mess.
After showering, arranging her hair and adding minimal make-up, she slipped into a sheer nightie, but covered herself with a terry cloth robe. Panties? Nah. She wasn't horny at the moment but who knew what the morning would bring? She was prepared for action but the conservative robe would keep all options available. Maybe the day would be a quiet one. Relaxation following last night's orgy. Yeah, it qualified for orgy status Surely it did. What would be everyone's reaction? It should be interesting.
Jan bounced over a little after 10:30. "My goodness you look radiant this morning," said Sandy.
"You're pretty bushy-tailed, yourself. But why the old maid's costume?"
Sandy opened her robe and Jan said, "Wow! The packaging's not too swift but the contents are dynamite."
"I didn't know what the morning after might bring, so I dressed to cover all the bases."
"You make me feel downright slutty in my red satin hostess gown."
"It's super flattering and subtly sexy like the guys asked for. What's underneath?"
"Just me. The material is thick enough to hide my goodies but with each button I undo the climate changes."
"Want coffee?"
"Yeah, I'm due for my second cup."
"Is Stan up yet?"
"He was singing in the shower when I left."
"Whew, I'm happy to hear that. Morning after second-thoughts bugged me."
"I thought about it too. But not to worry. Stan's so thrilled to be let out of the kennel and back in master status, that he gave me a whack on the fanny while I dressed and told me to get steaks for tonight."
"Bob's still in dreamland. Poor baby. He had himself quite a night. He kept telling me how great life is before we went to sleep. I don't expect any recriminations from his corner. But where do we go from here?"
"More sex. It's a fresh honeymoon."
"Can we really handle it?"
"If we're careful to keep it to ourselves. Never a word to anybody."
"Yeah, I would be so embarrassed if it got out."
"Heavens yes! But look who's come to life."
"Heavens what?" asked Bob, as he stepped into the kitchen with mussed hair, a shadowy beard and wearing a pair of blue pajama bottoms.
"Heaven help us if news of last night's shindig is ever found out."
"Oh, that, I thought I might print up some fliers and deliver them around the neighborhood. The bulletin board at the club should have one too. Make the whole world jealous as hell."
"Don't forget your mom and *** and the pastor might announce it in the church newsletter," said Sandy.
Bob yawned. "Boy that coffee smells great. Of course we'll keep it under wraps. We swingers must swing alone. Keep it strictly in the dark. Sound like a good song title?"
"Don't even joke about it," said Jan.
"Don't worry. No one will ever find out. Where's the cream?"
"In front of your nose."
"Yeah, so it is. You girls look mighty fetching. Especially Jan."
Sandy opened her robe and took it off.
"Damnation, you've made me spill my coffee. Where did you find that? It's hotter than the coffee."
"It's one of a few things we bought," said Sandy.
"Worth every nickel."
"Wait till you see how many nickels," said Jan. She undid the top two buttons of her gown.
"I don't care how many. This is what money's for."
"Hold that thought until after you pay this month's American Express bill."
Stan entered the kitchen door and stopped. He held on to the doorknob with one foot still in the air. "Thank god last night wasn't a dream. If I'm still dreaming, don't dare wake me up. You can leave, Bob. You could be the beginning of a nightmare."
Bob rubbed his whiskers and said, "Shut up until I get this coffee down and put your robe back on, Sandy. My hands are starting to shake."
"Stay as you are, Sandy," said Stan, "you've sent out a wake up call to my libido."
Jan undid another button.
Bob and Stan sat at the table. Jan took Bob's cup and added more coffee. She leaned over to return it. "Lordy, lordy," said Bob, "I never knew we had such a spectacular view in the kitchen. My compliments to the decorator."
"Or the décolletage? Thank you kind sir," said Jan.
Everyone smiled and Sandy said, "You guys have created sexpots. We're offering you a little brain candy to get the day started off right."
"Keep this page bookmarked. I'm off for a shave and shower. Don't start anything without me," said Bob as he padded out the door.
Stan said, "Maybe Bob's right. The way you're dressed or the lack of it is pretty disconcerting. Especially before breakfast."
"Is little Stannie-pooh getting an erection with his coffee?" asked Jan, while looking at Sandy with that gleam in her eyes.
Sandy said, "Jan, you are so-o-o bad. But the sun is shining, the birds are singing and Stan's got a boner started. Lookie, lookie a bulge is bulging."
Stan glanced down at himself and flushed. He brought his hands to his lap, and said, "We ought to wait for Bob. Shouldn't we?"
"There's no conviction in your voice," said Jan as she undid another button, walked over to Stan, grabbed his curly hair and brought his face to her breasts.
Jan motioned to Sandy with a jerk of her head. Tacitly signaling her to come join in. Jan pulled Stan's head back. He grinned as Sandy lifted the hem of her nightie past her honey-colored pussy, wiggled her hips and came toward him with a slow, slutty glide.
When Sandy stood close to Stan, still sitting in his chair, Jan pushed his head between Sandy's thighs. "Give Sandy a good morning kiss."
Sandy held her nightie up in one hand and the back of Stan's chair with the other as she spread her legs far apart. Stan smelled her freshness as he nuzzled his tongue into her furry softness and wiggled the tip of his tongue through her pussy lips. As he lick, lick, licked, Sandy's eyes began to glass over. She locked glances with Jan who smiled encouragement. After a full minute, Sandy broke away, breathing hard and weak-kneed. "I can't take it anymore. I'm about to collapse." She struggled to the nearest chair.
Jan leaned down and kissed Stan's wet lips, tasting Sandy's sweet essence. With her free hand she unbuckled Stan's belt and got his zipper down. "Stand up and drop your pants, sweetie, Momma wants a big stuffed sausage for breakfast."
Stan stood. As Jan got to her knees, she pulled down Stan's shorts along with his pants and out popped his thickened dick. Jan captured it with her mouth while she tickled his balls. Sandy recovered enough to kneel and join Jan whose eyes were closed. Sandy pushed Jan's hair aside and kissed her neck. Jan opened her eyes and pulled her lips away from Stan. Sandy leaned in and took Stan into her own mouth. Jan found Sandy's nipples and tweaked one and then the other.
Bob walked in wearing a bathrobe, smelling of Irish Spring soap and an after shave lotion. "Whoa! You were supposed to wait."
Sandy halted her ministrations to Stan long enough to turn her head and say, "You should have learned by now that the early bird gets the worm. But join the party."
"Better late than never, I suppose."
Jan said, "Let's move into the den. This kitchen floor is hard on knees."
Jan and Sandy got naked as they all hurried into the den. Bob tossed his robe and Stan pulled his shirt off. Jan attacked Bob, leaving Sandy and Stan to finish what was started.
By noon, the girls had been completely ravished. The guys managed two satisfying comes each and the gals lost count of their spasms to paradise. The festivities ended with a quiet little daisy-chain of Jan's head between Bob's thighs, Bob's mouth lightly teasing Sandy's pussy, Sandy nibbling on Stan's spent penis, and Stan finger-stroking Jan. Stan said the muscle under his tongue was too sore to perform anymore.
They rested and napped for another half-hour. Stan finally said, "I'm starved. I can't wait until tonight to get my steak."
"Let's all go shower together," said Sandy. "I'm sticky everywhere."
The four of them had enough room in Sandy and Bob's large double-headed shower. And spirits soared with the giggles of dropping soap and attempted retrieval. Playful shoving to get under the water spray at each end of the glass stall.
The guys went to the store to get steaks and the girls put baked potatoes in the microwave, cut up lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, celery and green onions which they tossed together. Radishes were peeled to form little flowers to place around the edges of the large wooden salad bowl. "Um, we forgot the ripe olives, I'll open a can and sprinkle them over the top," said Sandy.
"What about dressing?" asked Jan.
"I'm keeping every stitch on," smiled Sandy.
"You have an evil mind."
"Yep, and to answer your question, there's Caesar and Ranch in the fridge, and extra virgin olive oil and Tarragon Sprig Wine Vinegar in the pantry."
"I'm not picking up on the 'extra virgin' remark as some person in the room might do."
"Of course not, Jan, you're too virtuous."
The guys grilled the bacon-wrapped filet mignons and they all ate like big pigs. "What's for dessert?" asked Stan.
"Not us," said Jan, "we're off limits for an hour or two."
The guys groaned. "Let's make that a month or two," said Bob, "even eating like this three times a day wouldn't be enough to sustain perpetual sex feasts."
"So you fellows admit to being pussy-whipped?" asked Jan.
"Guilty as charged," said Stan, "but, unlike Bob the wimp, I'll be ready for action again tonight. Uh, better make that tomorrow."
"We have a question," said Sandy, "last night did either of you know who was doing what to you at what times?"
"Easy," said Stan, "I recognized Jan's Opium perfume. She was the first to jump my bones. You two couldn't fool us."
"We have a problem here, Stan. Sandy wears Chanel and that came second."
"That's right," said Sandy, "we both wore the same perfumes for Act One and Act Two."
"Shit," said Stan, "you're sneakier than I thought."
"Not sneaky enough," said Jan; "we lost two mink coats."
"How's that?" asked Bob.
"We planned to make a little bet this morning. You'd owe us each a mink coat if you couldn't guess properly."
"And if we did guess right?"
"We were going to let you have your ways with us in broad daylight, but a funny thing happened on the way to the furrier."
"Yeah," said Sandy, "We blew it. Literally and figuratively. So we lost our bargaining chips."
"But you blew it so beautifully. So satisfyingly."
"We're not complaining. We got to act like minx and that's better than having minks," said Jan. "Speak for yourself, Jan. Bob, honey; I've seen a mink stole downtown that's to die for. Do you think..."
"C'mon, Stan, let's clear the table for our wonderful cooks. We can scrounge the freezer for ice cream or something."
"About the mink?"
"These dishes are making too much of a clatter to hear you, darling." Bob carried plates and saucers back to the kitchen in both hands, jiggling them together as he went.
===============================================
Chapter Nine
alma647
Over the next three months the swapping continued. During the week the couples remained monogamous, except for a few holidays and special occasions (when Sandy and Jan got feisty and announced to their tired husbands that it was going to be a "fun" night). This happened infrequently enough to perk the guys up no matter how stressing their days had been. A few weekend nights they flirted with the idea of Jan being alone with Bob at her house and Stan with Sandy in theirs. The rule was for each of them to be back in their own beds before sunrise. The following days the girls would tell all and critique their husbands' performances. What they discussed never reached the ears of the hubbies.
Everything remained hunky-dory until the third week in January. The men announced they were going on a four day hunting trip the following weekend. The wives jumped at the chance to have swinging sex under the stars in the great outdoors. Not to be! It was strictly a stag affair. Six guys. Jan got the gleam in her eye, but relented.
The girls handled it well until late Wednesday afternoon soon after the guys had left. Stan's secretary, a temp since his regular assistant was out with the flu, called with a message for Stan. The "Girl's for You Modeling Agency" had called to inform Stan that they would only be able to supply three girls rather than four, but assured him the three had extensive experience and should perform well. "Yeah, hunting. Hunting to get a strange piece of ass," stormed Jan.
"How could they?" asked Sandy. "No telling what strange diseases they might bring home."
"Men are never satisfied. Look at our president. He has a bimbo stashed in every closet in the White House."
"It hasn't been proved."
"Get a brain. He orders kneepads by the gross. He probably snaps his fingers and points to his crotch and down the ladies drop."
"The economy's blasting along."
"And so is the financial success of our husbands, but I'm no Hilary. Getting even is twice the satisfaction of getting mad. But Hilary's most likely making things plenty uncomfortable in the Clinton household."
"What revenge is appropriate for those jerks?"
"Let's mix a couple of martinis and decide."
As they sipped, Sandy said, "We could cut them off for awhile."
"That cut's us off too. Unless..."
"That gleam in your eye always makes me nervous."
"I say we have a night on the town. I enjoyed that Rathskeller Restaurant. Do you...?"
"How could I forget? Do you think they'll remember us?"
"I doubt it. But so what?"
"What would we wear?"
"As you always say, 'gotcha going, haven't I?'"
Sandy twisted her hands together as if trying to squeeze water from a rag. "I don't know. The thought excites me, but we could catch something."
"Who said anything about fucking?"
"Well, uh, I just... it crossed my mind, but...."
"Relax. It may happen. I was only joshing you."
"But only if the guys wear protection. That is, if anything happens."
"There's a problem with the Rathskeller. The guys are young, very young, and single. It's safer with someone older who's married. Young kids get crushes and have nothing to lose by blabbing. Let's hit some classy places. Mature men have more experience and aren't in such a rush to only please themselves."
"Good thinking. Sounds like you've done this before."
"Wishful thinking. It's five o'clock now. Let's bathe and spiffy up. The jackets we wore last time worked well, since we can button up or down to let guys know how much they diddle our fancy."
"That was in September. Not too swift for this weather. It's cold outside."
"Not too cold for those cheating husbands of ours."
"Bob said something about a cabin."
"A little whorehouse in the woods?"
Sandy set her jaw. "Sexy. We want to dress sexy but not freeze our tits off."
"I like my white lamb's wool mock turtleneck body suit, with the cut-away bare shoulder's. It has the skirt slit on one side to mid-thigh. It clings to my boobs and my nipples will stand out."
"Perfect. It covers everything but shows it too. How about me?"
"Your black sculptured tank dress with the triple straps on each side of that low scoop neckline is an attention getter. It's cut above your knees."
"My arms will be bare. Yours is long-sleeved."
"The white jeweled sweater!"
"Yeah. The dress is solid black. I won't be too-too. Conservative earrings and no necklace. You can wear your gold bracelet and the gold dangling earrings."
"Sophisticated ladies to attract distinguished gentleman. But where do we go?"
"The Beverly-Wilshire?"
"Maybe, but we might run into an acquaintance."
"So? We're having a drink before dinner. Our husbands are out of town."
"Let's eat before we go so we can hit several places and not take time for dinner."
"Okay. Be ready by 7:30."
They sat at a table for four in the bar at the Wilshire, basking in the elegant atmosphere. The pianist played show tunes and they sipped martinis. Several expensively dressed gentlemen made subtle inquires about joining them. The problem: old farts. "Those that can afford this place seem to be on the wrong side of sixty," said Jan.
"Let's move on."
By 10:15 and three chic lounges later they were dejected. Not for lack of proposals but for a lack of acceptable suave hunks. "I only had a sandwich earlier and with all our drinks I could use something to eat. How about you?"
"Sure. So, we struck out there's always tomorrow night. We ruled out the Rathskeller this afternoon, but it's close. The food's edible and who knows!"
"We're not dressed for cradle robbing. We should have worn jeans and t-shirts. I'm afraid the rope's broken on our swinging episode."
When they sat at the bar at the Rathskeller, the bartender asked, "The usual?"
"Huh?" said Sandy, "you remember us? It's been three months."
"Dry martinis with olives. I never forget a cleavage."
Sandy dropped her eyes and flushed.
"Hey, it was a compliment. You two reek of class. Didn't mean to embarrass."
"It's okay," said Jan. "That night was an unusual circumstance."
"Too bad, I'd love a repeat, although several patrons complained about their ophthalmology bills. Seems a lot of eyes popped out that night."
Jan and Sandy grinned while he mixed.
"Two martinis on the house. From me actually. I should have been more discreet."
"No, no. That's not necessary," said Sandy.
"What's not necessary?" came a voice with a face that leaned between the two of them.
Sandy and Jan turned to the person inches away and recognized the waiter, Greg, who asked, "Out slumming again?"
"This place isn't so bad," said Jan.
"The owner might pay you millions to repeat that on TV. It's great to see you again. Want something to eat?"
"Yeah, what's good tonight?'
Greg scratched his head and looked at Mark the bartender. Mark said, "Ask an easy question. Greg and I usually go down the block to Luigi's after work. The food's good and the drinks are cheap. We close here in half an hour. Want to go with us?"
Jan and Sandy looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
"It's set then, "said Greg. "This place is about empty. I'll play vulture beside my last remaining table and maybe they'll take the hint."
Greg returned with a bill and credit card. Mark rang it up. "I asked them if they wanted to see the breakfast menu," said Greg.
Jan and Sandy retired to the ladies room. "What are we thinking about?" asked Sandy.
"So we grab a bite and talk a little. What's the harm?"
"They're so young."
"And handsome, and well built, and seem to be educated."
"If anybody sees us with them, we're dead meat. We could never explain it."
"If you want, you can go on and I'll get a cab home. I'm on the payback warpath."
"Right. It slipped my mind. We've put away a bunch of martinis tonight."
"Slipped your mind? God how we've changed. Our husbands are out porking lord knows whom, and it's not a hanging offense. Powder your nose and anything else that seems appropriate. Nothing's going to happen anyway. They have girls their own age and we're pushing thirty."
"I don't know about this."
While the girls were away, Greg asked, "How do we play this, Mark? These chicks are out of our league."
"Maybe not. I watch a lot of human nature play out from behind this bar. When they were here before, I picked up on a bit of competition between them. I think we should play good stud, bad stud and concentrate more attention on one or the other."
"It might sell. We could ease into it and check the response. Which one gets the special treatment? They're both gorgeous."
"Sandy. Jan seems to take the lead. If she takes the bait, and feels Sandy is getting more attention and showing her up, I think her competitive juices will come oozing out. But we go slowly. Carefully. I might be wrong."
Long and narrow, it was dark and full of smoke with knee bumping tables. Checkered tablecloths with candles flickering on each table. Soft grand opera background music with several patrons scattered in groups at a few of the tables. Sporadic loud laughing filled the narrow space.
"I think we've stumbled onto a set of 'The Godfather," whispered Jan.
"Wait until you've tasted the pasta," said Greg, "it'll make you want to bend your nose and buy a shoulder holster."
The guys ordered Bud Lights and the gals stuck with martinis. "These are our last drinks tonight. We're both woozy. No matter how we beg and plead you mustn't let us have anymore. Okay?" asked Sandy.
"Scout's honor," said Greg, as he gave a three-fingered salute, "we love, honor and obey. Right, Mark?"
"Not necessarily in that order."
They all decided on the shrimp marinara after the gals insisted on Dutch treat.
"So what brought you two back to the Rathskeller? Do you enjoy slumming?" asked Greg.
"Girls night out. Our husbands are on safari, searching for wild things."
"They must be bonkers to ever leave you alone," said Mark, "especially you Sandy. You look so young and vulnerable."
"We're both the same age. Almost thirty," shot back Jan.
"Wow," said Greg, "you both look younger, but thirty isn't old."
"I said almost thirty."
"What do you guys do when you're not in the restaurant?" asked Sandy in a sweet voice.
"Both students. Mark is majoring in pre-law and I'm studying creative design."
"It figures," said Jan, "lawyers can be assholes at times."
"I think it's neat," said Sandy.
"You have the prettiest eyes, Sandy," said Greg, as he placed a hand on her thigh beneath the tablecloth. Her short skirt had ridden up so that half his hand rested on her stocking and half on her skirt.
"How sweet," said Sandy. She let her hand drop nonchalantly to cover Greg's and tried to push his hand away.
"Sure you two don't want another drink?" asked Mark, distracting Sandy momentarily so that her grip loosened enough for Greg's hand to slip completely beneath her skirt.
"We're sure," said Jan. "Are you two holding hands over there?" asked Jan.
"Oh, no," said Sandy, quickly bringing her hand back to the table top.
"I'd really like to though," said Greg, giving Sandy a wink, but not removing his hand.
What should I do, thought Sandy. It's harmless enough I guess. Nothing to cause a scene over. But how far up will I let him travel.
"Do you have careers?" asked Greg as he moved higher to touch Sandy's lace panties.
"No, we're only housewives," said Sandy, as she spread her thighs a little.
Greg's hand dipped between them to allow the heel of his palm to rub against her vaginal cleft.
Jan sulked.
"Oh my goodness," said Sandy.
"What is it?" asked Jan. "Get a splinter in your pussy?"
"Oh-o-o, no-o-o. I think our food is here."
Greg gave several small rubs before withdrawing his hand.
As they ate, Sandy asked, "Don't you have girlfriends or something?"
"It's mostly 'or something,'" said Mark. "It's a special treat to be sitting here with two beautiful women." He looked straight at Jan, when he said it. Better ease up on her a little, he thought. She relaxed somewhat and gave him a small smile.
"This food is as good as you promised," said Jan.
"Wait until we get their special cappuccino."
As the waiter cleared away the plates, he asked, "Four specials, Mark?"
"Four extra-specials, Mario."
As they sipped, Jan said, "This tastes alcoholic."
"A touch of brandy," said Mark.
Three-quarters brandy, thought Greg.
"But you promised..." started Sandy.
"And you shall get no more martinis," broke in Mark.
They all laughed.
They paid their individual bills and the ladies insisted on leaving the tip. Struggling college kids and all.
As they stood to leave, the gals had to grab the backs of their chairs to steady themselves. "Something's hit me like a sledge hammer," said Jan, "I felt all right sitting down, but now I'm seeing everything in pairs. I need someone's arm."
"Me too, I'm as dizzy as a roller coaster ride. My tummy's doing the shimmy-shake."
The boys held their arms and steered them out side. "The night air will fix you up."
The girls took deep breaths. "Let's just walk slowly, now. In a block or two you'll get your sea legs back," said Greg.
"I feel like I'm on a raft in a hurricane," said Sandy, "Whee! Look at the street lights swingin' around, and dancin' in circles."
The guys exchanged worried glances. "Maybe that cappuccino was a bit too much," said Greg, as they steered them toward their apartment.
After three blocks the women's steps became surer. "Looks like the walk is helping," said Mark, "but we couldn't let you drive like this. Our place is right around the corner. We'll make coffee and get you in shape to drive."
The girls didn't argue.
"Up this one flight of steps now and you can relax for awhile."
The steps were narrow and Mark put his arm around Jan's back and under her arm to help her. Greg helped Sandy. Both took the opportunity to cup the girls' left breasts as they steadied them. So firm and soft, thought Mark, and no bra. Greg's hand had the extra layer of sweater to separate him from her goodies, but still felt his pecker begin to twitch.
The boys took it slowly. Every two or three steps they would pause. Jan's head rested on Mark's shoulder and he began to gently massage her nipple each time they stopped to rest. It grew long and hard by the time they reached the landing. Before he put his key in the lock, he tilted Jan's head back and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She lacked response but let him have his way with her lips. When she finally parted her lips to allow his tongue to enter her mouth, Greg said, "C'mon Mark, Sandy's getting heavy. We still have a step to go."
Mark got the door open and led Jan to the couch. She tried to focus her eyes and barely succeeded as she sat down. Sandy plopped down on the other end of the couch.
"Thanks, guys," said Sandy, "We'd never have made it on our own." She let her eyes close.
Greg and Mark huddled in the kitchen. "What do you think?" asked Greg, "they're far enough gone to let us strip and fuck 'em. It's lucky they didn't get sick."
"This is tricky. The bimbo's we bang would wake up and want more, but these are classy bitches. They might cry ****."
"Nah, they've got husbands."
"Precisely. If they don't get home tonight and their husbands find out, what better excuse do they have than ****."
"Oh Jeez, I'm as horny as sailor after a six months voyage, and remember, they said their hubbies were out of town. "
"Go ahead then. Put it to little Sandy. Odds are with you, but I'm going to wait until Jan sobers up. Well, maybe not completely."
"What do I tell my boner. It�
As they entered Sandy and Bob's house, all four of them felt a growing sense of sexual tension. Perhaps the tense voices of the two girls, or the slight tremble of their hands, or a faint almost imperceptible sexual perfume wafting from their womanhood caused the change of atmosphere. Even the darting of their eyes could have been a catalyst. After a few minutes no one spoke. Expectation hung in the air like ozone after a lightning storm and it thickened.
Finally Sandy asked Jan in a shaky voice, "Shall I tell them or will you?"
"I'll do it, I suppose, since Stan had the leading role."
"Role in what?" asked Stan.
"The little **** you guys carried out Sunday night. Or has it slipped your mind?"
"It's crossed my mind about ten thousand times."
"Tonight Sandy and I have something planned. If both of you do exactly what we tell you, you will be forgiven and will earn a reprieve. If you don't agree to our demands, you'll think the fires of hell are an igloo's front yard compared to the grief you'll suffer. Do you agree to our terms?"
"Lord, yes," said Bob, "I've been through hell these past few days and don't want it to get worse."
"Stan?"
"Huh? Yeah, well sure. Any hints to what we're letting ourselves in for?"
"We're going to play some little games. One's called Bumps and Grinds. The others come later." Bob and Stan wiggled their eyebrows and grinned knowingly at each other.
"Let's get started," said Stan.
"We'll play on the rug here in the ****** room," said Sandy, as she took the game box from a cupboard under the bookshelves. The picture on the box showed a pretty blond sitting with her legs tucked beneath her on a black furry rug, arms crossed in front of her large naked breasts, wearing only sheer black bikini panties. A slightly embarrassed come-hither smile donned her face. She sat on a rug in front of an open fire, with a half full glass of red wine on the floor next to the rug. The game board separated her from a handsome man still fully dressed in a suit and tie. A lighted candle burned in a holder in the middle of the board. The man held a pair of large dice in his hand and a mischievous grin showed on his face.
Stan and Bob worked their hands together as if they were trying to make a lather with soap and water. Jan smiled and said, "Don't get too frisky yet. Remember it's by our rules and we need some booze, ice and glasses."
The men choose a 1.75 liter of J&B scotch. The gals opted for a bottle of chilled Chablis. A large bucket of ice cubes, a small pitcher of water, tall glasses for the men and wineglasses for the women were placed strategically beside the board. Both wives hiked up their skirts to panty edge and sat across from each other. The men sat between them and mixed their drinks. Rather than using a candle for light as the game suggested, they kept two small table lamps lit to see the board and read the penalty cards.
"Pick out your plastic player marker. Green, red, yellow or orange," said Sandy. Bob chose red and that color started the game. He rolled an eight and landed on a space that said "sip card". He picked a card from the top of that stack and it required him to go forward five squares and take five sips of his scotch, which he did. Jan rolled next and landed on a strip square. Her card said player of your choice must strip one article of clothing. She nodded to Bob. Gone was his coat. Stan's roll produced a card requiring all to strip one article. The girls folded their jackets neatly behind them and pushed out their boobs for the men to admire. Along the way, Sandy drew a card which said do a no-no. She leaned across the board and kissed Jan full on the lips and gave Jan's left nipple a small tweak. The men squinted their eyes and exchanged looks of total confusion.
Between the sipping and stripping Sandy drew a card telling her to remove an article of clothing from any player without using her hands. She gazed slowly at each player before choosing Stan's pants. He stood up and Sandy walked around to him and got on her knees. She mouthed around his belly button and bit the cloth over the area where his cock had now grown. Stan cheated by helping to unhook the catch at the top of his fly, but Sandy got the zipper down by grabbing one side of his pants between her teeth and pulling hard. Gravity did the rest and Stan's pants slid down to bunch around his feet. His cockhead poked out the fly of his boxers. Sandy's lips were but a few inches away and she opened her mouth and laved him with her tongue for a few seconds before giving his glans a little love bite. "Don't stop," said Stan. Sandy looked at Jan. Jan shook her head, so Sandy returned to her place at the board.
Sandy sneaked a peek at Bob. His eyes were bleary and he had a shit-eating grin on his face. Sandy smiled at winked at Jan. The Scotch bottle showed its wounds. Bled half dry and losing more of itself with each round. The wine bottle looked sad with so little of its essence left. Jan drew a penalty card saying she must tell a joke. "Did everyone hear that Clinton has decided to use his marijuana defense concerning Monica?" All shook their heads. "He's saying she did put it in her mouth, but didn't swallow, so it doesn't count."
"I'd buy that defense," said Stan, with a tipsy leer.
"You would! So what if I don't like to swallow?" retorted Jan.
"You ought to try it," said Sandy, with a giggle. "It can be finger-licking good."
"Gross," said Jan. Within the half-hour Jan wore only her perfume, Sandy had only panties, see-through things that they were. Bob had a smile on his face and Stan still wore one sock. At her next turn, Jan drew a card telling her to sit on someone's lap for one round. She chose Bob and teased him terribly by wrapping a hand around his cock and then jerking her hand away. After two or three times of that he begged her to jerk it up and down a few times before taking her hand away. No luck.
The four of them had gotten awfully loose. And when Jan announced it was the final round, Sandy drew a card asking her to guess the measurements of any player. With her index and middle fingers of each hand, she wrapped the four fingers around the base of Stan's penis and then took the bottom two fingers and shifted them above the other two. Continuing this, her fingers climbed up his pole like sand lot baseball players use a bat to determine who's first up. "He's exactly five double fingers long," announce d Sandy. Jan arched an eyebrow. Sandy added, "So I cheated a smidgen and gave him extra credit for thickness."
When Jan announced that the game was finished, Bob inserted his hand between her partially opened thighs and began to tickle her pubic hairs. Stan brought Sandy's hand to his cock. Jan lifted Bob's hand away and stood up. Sandy also stood. The forlorn dopey looks on the half-***** men, almost made Jan relent, but too much time and planning had gone into the next phase.
Stan started to get up, but Jan placed a restraining hand on his shoulder and said, "Keep your seats, boys, the games aren't over. That was just a warm up. Remember how we make the rules?"
"I'm more than warmed-up," slurred Bob, "Send me in coach, I'm ready to score."
"There'll be plenty of time for that," said Sandy. The guys nodded their heads in anticipation.
Jan continued, "Sunday night, you two doped and boozed us up to where we didn't know what was done to us or by whom. Tonight the roles are going to be reversed. Get the props, Sandy."
Sandy returned from the hall closet with a box. Jan reached in and lifted out the two silk scarves and a small box. "These are to blindfold you and these ear plugs will muffle our voices so you won't know what comments we are making."
"Or moans and screams and such," chimed in Sandy. "And these cute little hankies will serve as gags."
Jan showed them the shower caps. "We're wearing these so our hair won't give us away. You fellows are going to be almost as much in the dark as we were on Sunday."
"Not fair. It's blatant cruelty. I'm surprised you haven't included whips and handcuffs," said Stan. Sandy and Jan exchanged glances and their eyes lit up. Bob pointed his finger at Stan and shook his head, as if to say you dum-dum.
"Two more rules," said Sandy, "your hands and feet will be tied to the bedposts. And if it's okay with Jan, I say we can remove the gags for awhile in case we want some tongue action."
"Of course," replied Jan, "why didn't I think of that?"
Sandy brought rope from a kitchen drawer and the girls led the guys upstairs to a guest bedroom with twin beds. After the men were tied and blindfolded, Stan said, "I hope the house doesn't catch on fire with us trussed up like this."
"It may get hot as fire in a few minutes and you'll get brownie points if our pussies smoke, but we won't let you burn down until all our are fires out. That's a promise." Once ears and mouths were plugged, the gals douched in the bathroom and applied the Opium perfume as starters. They decided against using the shower caps, since tied hands couldn't identify their hair "Should we start with our own husbands or swap?" asked Sandy.
"Swap!"
Sandy straddled Stan's right leg and moved the tips of her breasts up and down Stan's hairy chest. "Oooh," she moaned, before leaning down to kiss and love-bite his nipples. She licked and flicked her tongue beneath his chin. His head began to slowly move from side to side and Sandy felt his cock twitch against her stomach. Stan breathed heavily through his nose as Sandy butterfly kissed his lips, which were puffed up and ovaled by the white handkerchief. She grabbed a fold with her teeth and yanked out the gag. Stan took two huge breaths, and before he could speak, Sandy covered his mouth with her own. Tongues entwined and Sandy began undulating her hips against Stan's leg. Stan shoved and pushed his leg against her pussy trying to coax it over to his cock. Sandy stayed put and sucked Stan's lower lip into her mouth to wiggle her tongue back and forth across it.
When Sandy broke the kiss, she balled up the hankie and waited for Stan to open his mouth to say something. She stuffed his mouth full at the first opportunity, and listened to his, "Mmmph-mmmph-mmmph," before trailing her tongue down to his belly button. She fucked it with her tongue. He squirmed and made more muffled noises. Ticklish or a turn on?
Sandy continued south and blew hot breath on the head of his dick. She felt the moisture from her vagina streak across Stan's leg as she shifted position. She gently cupped his testicles and carefully sucked on each of his balls trying to get them in her mouth, but they had lifted so high in his scrotal sack that she couldn't quite manage it. The dim light sneaking in from the hall reflected drops of pre-come just inches away. She lifted and with the quick flick of a snake or a frog, tongued it away. "M-m-m-m. M-m-m-m." came from Stan. After a short swallow, Sandy took the head of his cock between her lips and let her head go down inch by agonizing inch until it touched the base of her throat. She wished Stan would quit wiggling. She sucked hard on his cock as she lifted her head back and it caused a popping sound on breaking free.
Stan kicked his feet up and down as far as the short slack of the ropes allowed. She enjoyed this bondage bit. She knew she drove him nuts but concern that he might come too soon kept her from sucking him any more. Now she would get her jollies. But she heard a loud moan and a scream of ecstasy from the adjacent bed.
Across the way, Jan had taken the more direct approach. For starters, she placed her knees in Bob's armpits, yanked out the gag and shoved her pussy against his open mouth. Like an obedient puppy dog he lapped contentedly, making long smooth strokes with his tongue. After a dozen or so of those, Jan grabbed his hair and held his head in place when his tongue found her clit.
Bob must have known the train had stopped at the station, because he curled his tongue around and around with a nip here and a nip there and finally a tiny bite on the small protrusion he had captured. Jan's eyebrows almost hit her hairline. The muscles of her vaginal walls spasmed and relaxed then contracted and fibrillated in wave upon wave. The orgasm blindsided her. Normally she felt it build. Normally she never completely lost control. Normally she might moan some and squeal a few times. This wasn't the time for normal. She screamed like a diving Stuka bomber at the highest speed of its dive. She released the dam of her juices much as bombs streak to their target. She exploded like a 1000 tons of TNT.
Even with earplugs, Stan lifted his head and searched with blind eyes as the sound waves broke through the barrier of his earplugs. Poor Bob twisted his head about too. More from the fear of drowning than the shrillness he thought came from a far away steam locomotive's whistle.
Jan collapsed backwards into the space between Bob's legs and lost consciousness for a moment. Sandy came to her and lifted her head. "You okay, Jan?" she whispered.
"Holy shit, blessed mother of good, I just flew over the cuckoo's nest," croaked Jan, as she struggled to control her panting. "Died and gone to the devil's den. Great place! Whew. Bob took me on quite a ride. I still feel roller coasters traveling up and down inside my pussy or it could be bumper cars having fender benders."
"I'm jealous. I get off with Bob big time, but I've never suffered the 'little death' before."
"Little death?"
"You know, passing out for a moment."
"I didn't know, but I'm ready to have another shot at it, if I stop short of needing an undertaker."
"Or blindness."
"What? Is it bad for your eyes?"
"No. Remember the guys' jerk-off-joke about just doing it till they need glasses?'
"Oh, Yeah. How's it going with you and Stan."
"Beautifully, until you blew the roof off the house. I'll have to check our homeowner's policy to see if it covers orgasms. If you do it again, you'll be famous. I can see the disclaimers now. Orgasm coverage included unless caused by Hurricane Jan."
"I wish I smoked. It'd be a great time for a cigarette break."
"Speak for yourself. My nipples are still hard. Speaking of hard, there are a couple of tent poles hanging around looking for a circus. Not hanging actually."
Jan glanced at the two stiff cocks. "My clit's so sore, so delectably sore, I'm not sure it will take more attention."
Sandy said, "You can't leave Bob up in the air like that. Literally! You better warn your tonsils that a truck's headed their way. A dump truck, if you'll ever learn to swallow."
"You don't mind slurping it down?"
"Nah, it's nutritious. A protein supplement. Non-fattening unless you're trying to get pregnant. But enough of this, I'm late for a date with a friendly little fellow who's not little at all."
Sandy crossed back over to Stan. Someone may have died, she thought, his flag's at half-mast. Again she took him in her mouth, and waved her magic wand that doubled as a tongue. When Stan's soldier stood at attention once more. She saluted it by rubbing one of her nipples up and down its length, and crawled higher on top of him than before. She slipped out the gag and put a breast to his lips. He kissed around her nipple and licked across it. Slowly he began to suck. Sandy began to squirm. She broke contact and positioned herself between his spread legs so his prong could nestle in her pubic hair for a moment before she moved back up to offer her other breast to his mouth. It felt s-o-o-o wonderful to have a strange man work on her nipples and she tried to push more of her breast into his mouth.
It was probably wicked to be doing this with another man. Did it add more to her enjoyment? She thought it did. Her pussy was wet and ready and she cursed at having to pull away from his mouth to slide herself down to his cock. Maybe tying his hands wasn't so smart, since he couldn't bend his back and keep titty contact. She felt his cock head at her lower entrance and used her hand to guide him in. He felt so warm and big and she controlled the deepness and speed of penetration. That was a plus: to have her own love stick to please her any way she decided. She pulled off him and rubbed the head of his peter back and forth across her clit. Round and round it goes. She pinched her nipple with her free hand. Waves of pleasure rippled through her nervous system. Synapse fondled synapse.
She again inserted him into her and sat up straight, beginning to bounce up and down. She toyed with her nipples and squeezed them harder as she increased the speed of pumping on his cock. Her head fell back as she rode the wild horse and the heat and pulsating she felt as he came and came pushed her into an orbit past earth's gravity. She floated in cyberspace with a hard dick sharing her space capsule. When the penis within her began its descent to softness, she fluttered back into reality like a lazy snowflake on a dark night.
Different, she thought, it was a wonderfully smooth and satisfying trip. She lifted away from Stan and gave the mushroom head of his penis a nice smooch. The smell of her douche was delightful and added to the taste of Stan's come. Sandy lay down beside Stan with her head on his furry chest and her right leg draped over his right leg so she could watch Jan perform. Jan's head bobbed up and down giving a classic blowjob. Maybe she could learn something from her, but doubted it. What was that cup and saucer doing on the nightstand?
Sandy watched as Jan broke away and took a small sip from the cup without swallowing. Back she went to her task and as Bob's dick disappeared into her mouth a tiny dribble of liquid spilled out of Jan's mouth and trickled into Bob's pubic hair. Bob clenched his right hand into a fist (she couldn't see his left hand) and fought with the rope that held his arm. His head twisted from side to side. Better be careful, Jan. Old Faithful's about to remain faithful and blow right on schedule. And there she blows, thought Sandy, as Bob's pelvis raised up and fucked Jan's mouth. She's a trooper, her mouth still clamped tight. She's swallowing!
Oh my god! Stay with it Jan. Suck that cock dry. Atta girl! Join the GGG, the Good Gulping Girls. Beautiful! A classy bit of work there. She's earned her Kleenex. The highest GGG award. You wear it in your breast pocket to show it can stay there. You don't need those anymore.
As Bob's manhood withered, Jan lapped it clean, looked over at Sandy and gave a thumbs up. Sandy gave an okay with her thumb and forefinger. Both went out into the hall and down to the bathroom. "What a night," said Jan, "I had a mind blasting orgasm, swallowed my first come, and feel my pussy is getting its walking legs back. I think it wants to stroll over to Stan's bed and give him a good fuck."
"Great blow job, Jan. What was in that cup?"
"Hot tea. I ran down to your kitchen, spooned a scoop of tea in a cup of water, popped it in the microwave and rushed back up. You were too involved to notice my absence. I like cream in my tea, so when Bob creamed me I told myself it was just like I liked it and it worked."
"So what's next? Do we untie them?"
"Nah, I'm ready for more action, but let's take the gags out. Only breathing through the nose when you're excited must be uncomfortable. Serves them right, of course, but we've made our point."
"Let's douche again and switch perfumes. We'll bet them they can't tell who did what to them."
"And if they guess right?"
"Lie, lie, lie."
"What should the bet be?"
"Hmm.I know: the Animal Rights Group would pitch a hissy, but there's a mink jacket to die for in the window at Ivan's Furriers."
"Why not go full-length. Jackets are only half a sin."
"Well said." Back in the room, the gals removed the gags and when the guys started to speak, the girls cupped their hands over the guy's mouths. They got the message.
Both wives attacked their own husbands and with a tease here, a suck there, and a kiss here and there, it got the wanted results and the women were completely sated. "What time is it?" asked Jan.
"Sleep time, but let me check the clock." When Sandy returned, she said, "It's a little past two. Time to unwrap?"
"Yeah, and we'll tell them they can fuck us now without the restraints or blindfolds."
"No way. My little love puddle is too sore."
"Don't worry. They've had it. Just wait."
With the scarves and ropes removed, the guys rubbed their wrists and ankles to ease the discomfort caused from chaffing. "I hope we've done our penance," said Stan. "It was, uh, interesting, but I like it the regular way better."
"Speak for yourself," said Bob, "I loved it."
"You would," said Sandy. They all laughed.
"It's only a little after two o'clock," said Jan. "We'll let you do us now so you can see and hear everything." Bob and Stan looked at each other, then down at their limp dicks and both shook their heads.
"No way, girls," said Stan.
"Oh? Last Sunday, actually last Monday morning, you confessed to fucking Sandy three times. Do we have to be drugged for you to accomplish that?"
"Hee-hee," said Stan, "that wasn't exactly the way it was."
"Then exactly how was it?"
Bob, seeing Stan's discomfort, said, "It wasn't that many. Just a little macho exaggeration."
"How many times?" demanded Sandy.
"Er, well, you see...."
"Once," said Stan sheepishly.
"Looks like our studs have turned into pussycats," said Sandy.
"Maybe it's time to trade 'em in on new models. Get a couple of divorces and pick us out some young trophy dudes to show off."
"But, but...," started Bob.
"Relax, honey," said Sandy, "we were just jerking your chains. You guys have served your sentences. You have a 'get out of jail free' card."
"I knew they were kidding," said Stan.
Jan lifted an eyebrow and said, "Don't be too sure."
"I'm bushed," said Bob. "I'm going to sleep. You and Jan can stay over if you want."
Jan walked over to Bob and rubbed her nipples back and forth across his arm. "You sure about that? We may jump you guy's bones in an hour or so."
"Time to go home," said Stan. "We'll make breakfast for you two in the morning."
"Wait a sec," said Sandy, "I'll grab some things and be right with you." Stan's and Bob's mouths dropped open in unison.
"Gotcha!" said Sandy. They all laughed and said good night.
======================================
Chapter Eight
The following morning Sandy blinked open her eyes shortly after nine-thirty. Beside her, Bob slept on. She noticed his upper eyelids doing tiny shimmy-shakes and wondered if he dreamed about the wild times of the night before. How drastically would their lives change? Were they starting a journey that led to future problems or future fulfillment? As the intimacy with Stan and Jan became stronger, would it bind them closer together or drive a wedge through the heart of their relationship?
Her upbringing, and Jan's too, provided no cubby hole of leniency to house the activities of the past week, but it had added such excitement to their lives. They had crossed the Rubicon, like Julius Caesar, and ventured into uncharted lands. Not to fight and conquer, she hoped, but to only taste forbidden pleasures. Pleasures made that much sweeter because they reeked of sin. Fun sin. Sin that meant no harm nor sought any special gain.
Who said that sex wasn't dirty unless you did it right? They were wrong. Last night everything went perfectly with the guys and she didn't feel one bit dirty. The harmless showing of herself to the fellows at the restaurant made her juices flow. Probably because their reactions reaffirmed she was sexually attractive. Does that confirm a basic insecurity? Screw it. Like Scarlett, she would worry about all those things tomorrow. No, day after tomorrow or maybe next week. Right now she craved a big mug of coffee and her hair must be a mess.
After showering, arranging her hair and adding minimal make-up, she slipped into a sheer nightie, but covered herself with a terry cloth robe. Panties? Nah. She wasn't horny at the moment but who knew what the morning would bring? She was prepared for action but the conservative robe would keep all options available. Maybe the day would be a quiet one. Relaxation following last night's orgy. Yeah, it qualified for orgy status Surely it did. What would be everyone's reaction? It should be interesting.
Jan bounced over a little after 10:30. "My goodness you look radiant this morning," said Sandy.
"You're pretty bushy-tailed, yourself. But why the old maid's costume?"
Sandy opened her robe and Jan said, "Wow! The packaging's not too swift but the contents are dynamite."
"I didn't know what the morning after might bring, so I dressed to cover all the bases."
"You make me feel downright slutty in my red satin hostess gown."
"It's super flattering and subtly sexy like the guys asked for. What's underneath?"
"Just me. The material is thick enough to hide my goodies but with each button I undo the climate changes."
"Want coffee?"
"Yeah, I'm due for my second cup."
"Is Stan up yet?"
"He was singing in the shower when I left."
"Whew, I'm happy to hear that. Morning after second-thoughts bugged me."
"I thought about it too. But not to worry. Stan's so thrilled to be let out of the kennel and back in master status, that he gave me a whack on the fanny while I dressed and told me to get steaks for tonight."
"Bob's still in dreamland. Poor baby. He had himself quite a night. He kept telling me how great life is before we went to sleep. I don't expect any recriminations from his corner. But where do we go from here?"
"More sex. It's a fresh honeymoon."
"Can we really handle it?"
"If we're careful to keep it to ourselves. Never a word to anybody."
"Yeah, I would be so embarrassed if it got out."
"Heavens yes! But look who's come to life."
"Heavens what?" asked Bob, as he stepped into the kitchen with mussed hair, a shadowy beard and wearing a pair of blue pajama bottoms.
"Heaven help us if news of last night's shindig is ever found out."
"Oh, that, I thought I might print up some fliers and deliver them around the neighborhood. The bulletin board at the club should have one too. Make the whole world jealous as hell."
"Don't forget your mom and *** and the pastor might announce it in the church newsletter," said Sandy.
Bob yawned. "Boy that coffee smells great. Of course we'll keep it under wraps. We swingers must swing alone. Keep it strictly in the dark. Sound like a good song title?"
"Don't even joke about it," said Jan.
"Don't worry. No one will ever find out. Where's the cream?"
"In front of your nose."
"Yeah, so it is. You girls look mighty fetching. Especially Jan."
Sandy opened her robe and took it off.
"Damnation, you've made me spill my coffee. Where did you find that? It's hotter than the coffee."
"It's one of a few things we bought," said Sandy.
"Worth every nickel."
"Wait till you see how many nickels," said Jan. She undid the top two buttons of her gown.
"I don't care how many. This is what money's for."
"Hold that thought until after you pay this month's American Express bill."
Stan entered the kitchen door and stopped. He held on to the doorknob with one foot still in the air. "Thank god last night wasn't a dream. If I'm still dreaming, don't dare wake me up. You can leave, Bob. You could be the beginning of a nightmare."
Bob rubbed his whiskers and said, "Shut up until I get this coffee down and put your robe back on, Sandy. My hands are starting to shake."
"Stay as you are, Sandy," said Stan, "you've sent out a wake up call to my libido."
Jan undid another button.
Bob and Stan sat at the table. Jan took Bob's cup and added more coffee. She leaned over to return it. "Lordy, lordy," said Bob, "I never knew we had such a spectacular view in the kitchen. My compliments to the decorator."
"Or the décolletage? Thank you kind sir," said Jan.
Everyone smiled and Sandy said, "You guys have created sexpots. We're offering you a little brain candy to get the day started off right."
"Keep this page bookmarked. I'm off for a shave and shower. Don't start anything without me," said Bob as he padded out the door.
Stan said, "Maybe Bob's right. The way you're dressed or the lack of it is pretty disconcerting. Especially before breakfast."
"Is little Stannie-pooh getting an erection with his coffee?" asked Jan, while looking at Sandy with that gleam in her eyes.
Sandy said, "Jan, you are so-o-o bad. But the sun is shining, the birds are singing and Stan's got a boner started. Lookie, lookie a bulge is bulging."
Stan glanced down at himself and flushed. He brought his hands to his lap, and said, "We ought to wait for Bob. Shouldn't we?"
"There's no conviction in your voice," said Jan as she undid another button, walked over to Stan, grabbed his curly hair and brought his face to her breasts.
Jan motioned to Sandy with a jerk of her head. Tacitly signaling her to come join in. Jan pulled Stan's head back. He grinned as Sandy lifted the hem of her nightie past her honey-colored pussy, wiggled her hips and came toward him with a slow, slutty glide.
When Sandy stood close to Stan, still sitting in his chair, Jan pushed his head between Sandy's thighs. "Give Sandy a good morning kiss."
Sandy held her nightie up in one hand and the back of Stan's chair with the other as she spread her legs far apart. Stan smelled her freshness as he nuzzled his tongue into her furry softness and wiggled the tip of his tongue through her pussy lips. As he lick, lick, licked, Sandy's eyes began to glass over. She locked glances with Jan who smiled encouragement. After a full minute, Sandy broke away, breathing hard and weak-kneed. "I can't take it anymore. I'm about to collapse." She struggled to the nearest chair.
Jan leaned down and kissed Stan's wet lips, tasting Sandy's sweet essence. With her free hand she unbuckled Stan's belt and got his zipper down. "Stand up and drop your pants, sweetie, Momma wants a big stuffed sausage for breakfast."
Stan stood. As Jan got to her knees, she pulled down Stan's shorts along with his pants and out popped his thickened dick. Jan captured it with her mouth while she tickled his balls. Sandy recovered enough to kneel and join Jan whose eyes were closed. Sandy pushed Jan's hair aside and kissed her neck. Jan opened her eyes and pulled her lips away from Stan. Sandy leaned in and took Stan into her own mouth. Jan found Sandy's nipples and tweaked one and then the other.
Bob walked in wearing a bathrobe, smelling of Irish Spring soap and an after shave lotion. "Whoa! You were supposed to wait."
Sandy halted her ministrations to Stan long enough to turn her head and say, "You should have learned by now that the early bird gets the worm. But join the party."
"Better late than never, I suppose."
Jan said, "Let's move into the den. This kitchen floor is hard on knees."
Jan and Sandy got naked as they all hurried into the den. Bob tossed his robe and Stan pulled his shirt off. Jan attacked Bob, leaving Sandy and Stan to finish what was started.
By noon, the girls had been completely ravished. The guys managed two satisfying comes each and the gals lost count of their spasms to paradise. The festivities ended with a quiet little daisy-chain of Jan's head between Bob's thighs, Bob's mouth lightly teasing Sandy's pussy, Sandy nibbling on Stan's spent penis, and Stan finger-stroking Jan. Stan said the muscle under his tongue was too sore to perform anymore.
They rested and napped for another half-hour. Stan finally said, "I'm starved. I can't wait until tonight to get my steak."
"Let's all go shower together," said Sandy. "I'm sticky everywhere."
The four of them had enough room in Sandy and Bob's large double-headed shower. And spirits soared with the giggles of dropping soap and attempted retrieval. Playful shoving to get under the water spray at each end of the glass stall.
The guys went to the store to get steaks and the girls put baked potatoes in the microwave, cut up lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, celery and green onions which they tossed together. Radishes were peeled to form little flowers to place around the edges of the large wooden salad bowl. "Um, we forgot the ripe olives, I'll open a can and sprinkle them over the top," said Sandy.
"What about dressing?" asked Jan.
"I'm keeping every stitch on," smiled Sandy.
"You have an evil mind."
"Yep, and to answer your question, there's Caesar and Ranch in the fridge, and extra virgin olive oil and Tarragon Sprig Wine Vinegar in the pantry."
"I'm not picking up on the 'extra virgin' remark as some person in the room might do."
"Of course not, Jan, you're too virtuous."
The guys grilled the bacon-wrapped filet mignons and they all ate like big pigs. "What's for dessert?" asked Stan.
"Not us," said Jan, "we're off limits for an hour or two."
The guys groaned. "Let's make that a month or two," said Bob, "even eating like this three times a day wouldn't be enough to sustain perpetual sex feasts."
"So you fellows admit to being pussy-whipped?" asked Jan.
"Guilty as charged," said Stan, "but, unlike Bob the wimp, I'll be ready for action again tonight. Uh, better make that tomorrow."
"We have a question," said Sandy, "last night did either of you know who was doing what to you at what times?"
"Easy," said Stan, "I recognized Jan's Opium perfume. She was the first to jump my bones. You two couldn't fool us."
"We have a problem here, Stan. Sandy wears Chanel and that came second."
"That's right," said Sandy, "we both wore the same perfumes for Act One and Act Two."
"Shit," said Stan, "you're sneakier than I thought."
"Not sneaky enough," said Jan; "we lost two mink coats."
"How's that?" asked Bob.
"We planned to make a little bet this morning. You'd owe us each a mink coat if you couldn't guess properly."
"And if we did guess right?"
"We were going to let you have your ways with us in broad daylight, but a funny thing happened on the way to the furrier."
"Yeah," said Sandy, "We blew it. Literally and figuratively. So we lost our bargaining chips."
"But you blew it so beautifully. So satisfyingly."
"We're not complaining. We got to act like minx and that's better than having minks," said Jan. "Speak for yourself, Jan. Bob, honey; I've seen a mink stole downtown that's to die for. Do you think..."
"C'mon, Stan, let's clear the table for our wonderful cooks. We can scrounge the freezer for ice cream or something."
"About the mink?"
"These dishes are making too much of a clatter to hear you, darling." Bob carried plates and saucers back to the kitchen in both hands, jiggling them together as he went.
===============================================
Chapter Nine
alma647
Over the next three months the swapping continued. During the week the couples remained monogamous, except for a few holidays and special occasions (when Sandy and Jan got feisty and announced to their tired husbands that it was going to be a "fun" night). This happened infrequently enough to perk the guys up no matter how stressing their days had been. A few weekend nights they flirted with the idea of Jan being alone with Bob at her house and Stan with Sandy in theirs. The rule was for each of them to be back in their own beds before sunrise. The following days the girls would tell all and critique their husbands' performances. What they discussed never reached the ears of the hubbies.
Everything remained hunky-dory until the third week in January. The men announced they were going on a four day hunting trip the following weekend. The wives jumped at the chance to have swinging sex under the stars in the great outdoors. Not to be! It was strictly a stag affair. Six guys. Jan got the gleam in her eye, but relented.
The girls handled it well until late Wednesday afternoon soon after the guys had left. Stan's secretary, a temp since his regular assistant was out with the flu, called with a message for Stan. The "Girl's for You Modeling Agency" had called to inform Stan that they would only be able to supply three girls rather than four, but assured him the three had extensive experience and should perform well. "Yeah, hunting. Hunting to get a strange piece of ass," stormed Jan.
"How could they?" asked Sandy. "No telling what strange diseases they might bring home."
"Men are never satisfied. Look at our president. He has a bimbo stashed in every closet in the White House."
"It hasn't been proved."
"Get a brain. He orders kneepads by the gross. He probably snaps his fingers and points to his crotch and down the ladies drop."
"The economy's blasting along."
"And so is the financial success of our husbands, but I'm no Hilary. Getting even is twice the satisfaction of getting mad. But Hilary's most likely making things plenty uncomfortable in the Clinton household."
"What revenge is appropriate for those jerks?"
"Let's mix a couple of martinis and decide."
As they sipped, Sandy said, "We could cut them off for awhile."
"That cut's us off too. Unless..."
"That gleam in your eye always makes me nervous."
"I say we have a night on the town. I enjoyed that Rathskeller Restaurant. Do you...?"
"How could I forget? Do you think they'll remember us?"
"I doubt it. But so what?"
"What would we wear?"
"As you always say, 'gotcha going, haven't I?'"
Sandy twisted her hands together as if trying to squeeze water from a rag. "I don't know. The thought excites me, but we could catch something."
"Who said anything about fucking?"
"Well, uh, I just... it crossed my mind, but...."
"Relax. It may happen. I was only joshing you."
"But only if the guys wear protection. That is, if anything happens."
"There's a problem with the Rathskeller. The guys are young, very young, and single. It's safer with someone older who's married. Young kids get crushes and have nothing to lose by blabbing. Let's hit some classy places. Mature men have more experience and aren't in such a rush to only please themselves."
"Good thinking. Sounds like you've done this before."
"Wishful thinking. It's five o'clock now. Let's bathe and spiffy up. The jackets we wore last time worked well, since we can button up or down to let guys know how much they diddle our fancy."
"That was in September. Not too swift for this weather. It's cold outside."
"Not too cold for those cheating husbands of ours."
"Bob said something about a cabin."
"A little whorehouse in the woods?"
Sandy set her jaw. "Sexy. We want to dress sexy but not freeze our tits off."
"I like my white lamb's wool mock turtleneck body suit, with the cut-away bare shoulder's. It has the skirt slit on one side to mid-thigh. It clings to my boobs and my nipples will stand out."
"Perfect. It covers everything but shows it too. How about me?"
"Your black sculptured tank dress with the triple straps on each side of that low scoop neckline is an attention getter. It's cut above your knees."
"My arms will be bare. Yours is long-sleeved."
"The white jeweled sweater!"
"Yeah. The dress is solid black. I won't be too-too. Conservative earrings and no necklace. You can wear your gold bracelet and the gold dangling earrings."
"Sophisticated ladies to attract distinguished gentleman. But where do we go?"
"The Beverly-Wilshire?"
"Maybe, but we might run into an acquaintance."
"So? We're having a drink before dinner. Our husbands are out of town."
"Let's eat before we go so we can hit several places and not take time for dinner."
"Okay. Be ready by 7:30."
They sat at a table for four in the bar at the Wilshire, basking in the elegant atmosphere. The pianist played show tunes and they sipped martinis. Several expensively dressed gentlemen made subtle inquires about joining them. The problem: old farts. "Those that can afford this place seem to be on the wrong side of sixty," said Jan.
"Let's move on."
By 10:15 and three chic lounges later they were dejected. Not for lack of proposals but for a lack of acceptable suave hunks. "I only had a sandwich earlier and with all our drinks I could use something to eat. How about you?"
"Sure. So, we struck out there's always tomorrow night. We ruled out the Rathskeller this afternoon, but it's close. The food's edible and who knows!"
"We're not dressed for cradle robbing. We should have worn jeans and t-shirts. I'm afraid the rope's broken on our swinging episode."
When they sat at the bar at the Rathskeller, the bartender asked, "The usual?"
"Huh?" said Sandy, "you remember us? It's been three months."
"Dry martinis with olives. I never forget a cleavage."
Sandy dropped her eyes and flushed.
"Hey, it was a compliment. You two reek of class. Didn't mean to embarrass."
"It's okay," said Jan. "That night was an unusual circumstance."
"Too bad, I'd love a repeat, although several patrons complained about their ophthalmology bills. Seems a lot of eyes popped out that night."
Jan and Sandy grinned while he mixed.
"Two martinis on the house. From me actually. I should have been more discreet."
"No, no. That's not necessary," said Sandy.
"What's not necessary?" came a voice with a face that leaned between the two of them.
Sandy and Jan turned to the person inches away and recognized the waiter, Greg, who asked, "Out slumming again?"
"This place isn't so bad," said Jan.
"The owner might pay you millions to repeat that on TV. It's great to see you again. Want something to eat?"
"Yeah, what's good tonight?'
Greg scratched his head and looked at Mark the bartender. Mark said, "Ask an easy question. Greg and I usually go down the block to Luigi's after work. The food's good and the drinks are cheap. We close here in half an hour. Want to go with us?"
Jan and Sandy looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
"It's set then, "said Greg. "This place is about empty. I'll play vulture beside my last remaining table and maybe they'll take the hint."
Greg returned with a bill and credit card. Mark rang it up. "I asked them if they wanted to see the breakfast menu," said Greg.
Jan and Sandy retired to the ladies room. "What are we thinking about?" asked Sandy.
"So we grab a bite and talk a little. What's the harm?"
"They're so young."
"And handsome, and well built, and seem to be educated."
"If anybody sees us with them, we're dead meat. We could never explain it."
"If you want, you can go on and I'll get a cab home. I'm on the payback warpath."
"Right. It slipped my mind. We've put away a bunch of martinis tonight."
"Slipped your mind? God how we've changed. Our husbands are out porking lord knows whom, and it's not a hanging offense. Powder your nose and anything else that seems appropriate. Nothing's going to happen anyway. They have girls their own age and we're pushing thirty."
"I don't know about this."
While the girls were away, Greg asked, "How do we play this, Mark? These chicks are out of our league."
"Maybe not. I watch a lot of human nature play out from behind this bar. When they were here before, I picked up on a bit of competition between them. I think we should play good stud, bad stud and concentrate more attention on one or the other."
"It might sell. We could ease into it and check the response. Which one gets the special treatment? They're both gorgeous."
"Sandy. Jan seems to take the lead. If she takes the bait, and feels Sandy is getting more attention and showing her up, I think her competitive juices will come oozing out. But we go slowly. Carefully. I might be wrong."
Long and narrow, it was dark and full of smoke with knee bumping tables. Checkered tablecloths with candles flickering on each table. Soft grand opera background music with several patrons scattered in groups at a few of the tables. Sporadic loud laughing filled the narrow space.
"I think we've stumbled onto a set of 'The Godfather," whispered Jan.
"Wait until you've tasted the pasta," said Greg, "it'll make you want to bend your nose and buy a shoulder holster."
The guys ordered Bud Lights and the gals stuck with martinis. "These are our last drinks tonight. We're both woozy. No matter how we beg and plead you mustn't let us have anymore. Okay?" asked Sandy.
"Scout's honor," said Greg, as he gave a three-fingered salute, "we love, honor and obey. Right, Mark?"
"Not necessarily in that order."
They all decided on the shrimp marinara after the gals insisted on Dutch treat.
"So what brought you two back to the Rathskeller? Do you enjoy slumming?" asked Greg.
"Girls night out. Our husbands are on safari, searching for wild things."
"They must be bonkers to ever leave you alone," said Mark, "especially you Sandy. You look so young and vulnerable."
"We're both the same age. Almost thirty," shot back Jan.
"Wow," said Greg, "you both look younger, but thirty isn't old."
"I said almost thirty."
"What do you guys do when you're not in the restaurant?" asked Sandy in a sweet voice.
"Both students. Mark is majoring in pre-law and I'm studying creative design."
"It figures," said Jan, "lawyers can be assholes at times."
"I think it's neat," said Sandy.
"You have the prettiest eyes, Sandy," said Greg, as he placed a hand on her thigh beneath the tablecloth. Her short skirt had ridden up so that half his hand rested on her stocking and half on her skirt.
"How sweet," said Sandy. She let her hand drop nonchalantly to cover Greg's and tried to push his hand away.
"Sure you two don't want another drink?" asked Mark, distracting Sandy momentarily so that her grip loosened enough for Greg's hand to slip completely beneath her skirt.
"We're sure," said Jan. "Are you two holding hands over there?" asked Jan.
"Oh, no," said Sandy, quickly bringing her hand back to the table top.
"I'd really like to though," said Greg, giving Sandy a wink, but not removing his hand.
What should I do, thought Sandy. It's harmless enough I guess. Nothing to cause a scene over. But how far up will I let him travel.
"Do you have careers?" asked Greg as he moved higher to touch Sandy's lace panties.
"No, we're only housewives," said Sandy, as she spread her thighs a little.
Greg's hand dipped between them to allow the heel of his palm to rub against her vaginal cleft.
Jan sulked.
"Oh my goodness," said Sandy.
"What is it?" asked Jan. "Get a splinter in your pussy?"
"Oh-o-o, no-o-o. I think our food is here."
Greg gave several small rubs before withdrawing his hand.
As they ate, Sandy asked, "Don't you have girlfriends or something?"
"It's mostly 'or something,'" said Mark. "It's a special treat to be sitting here with two beautiful women." He looked straight at Jan, when he said it. Better ease up on her a little, he thought. She relaxed somewhat and gave him a small smile.
"This food is as good as you promised," said Jan.
"Wait until we get their special cappuccino."
As the waiter cleared away the plates, he asked, "Four specials, Mark?"
"Four extra-specials, Mario."
As they sipped, Jan said, "This tastes alcoholic."
"A touch of brandy," said Mark.
Three-quarters brandy, thought Greg.
"But you promised..." started Sandy.
"And you shall get no more martinis," broke in Mark.
They all laughed.
They paid their individual bills and the ladies insisted on leaving the tip. Struggling college kids and all.
As they stood to leave, the gals had to grab the backs of their chairs to steady themselves. "Something's hit me like a sledge hammer," said Jan, "I felt all right sitting down, but now I'm seeing everything in pairs. I need someone's arm."
"Me too, I'm as dizzy as a roller coaster ride. My tummy's doing the shimmy-shake."
The boys held their arms and steered them out side. "The night air will fix you up."
The girls took deep breaths. "Let's just walk slowly, now. In a block or two you'll get your sea legs back," said Greg.
"I feel like I'm on a raft in a hurricane," said Sandy, "Whee! Look at the street lights swingin' around, and dancin' in circles."
The guys exchanged worried glances. "Maybe that cappuccino was a bit too much," said Greg, as they steered them toward their apartment.
After three blocks the women's steps became surer. "Looks like the walk is helping," said Mark, "but we couldn't let you drive like this. Our place is right around the corner. We'll make coffee and get you in shape to drive."
The girls didn't argue.
"Up this one flight of steps now and you can relax for awhile."
The steps were narrow and Mark put his arm around Jan's back and under her arm to help her. Greg helped Sandy. Both took the opportunity to cup the girls' left breasts as they steadied them. So firm and soft, thought Mark, and no bra. Greg's hand had the extra layer of sweater to separate him from her goodies, but still felt his pecker begin to twitch.
The boys took it slowly. Every two or three steps they would pause. Jan's head rested on Mark's shoulder and he began to gently massage her nipple each time they stopped to rest. It grew long and hard by the time they reached the landing. Before he put his key in the lock, he tilted Jan's head back and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She lacked response but let him have his way with her lips. When she finally parted her lips to allow his tongue to enter her mouth, Greg said, "C'mon Mark, Sandy's getting heavy. We still have a step to go."
Mark got the door open and led Jan to the couch. She tried to focus her eyes and barely succeeded as she sat down. Sandy plopped down on the other end of the couch.
"Thanks, guys," said Sandy, "We'd never have made it on our own." She let her eyes close.
Greg and Mark huddled in the kitchen. "What do you think?" asked Greg, "they're far enough gone to let us strip and fuck 'em. It's lucky they didn't get sick."
"This is tricky. The bimbo's we bang would wake up and want more, but these are classy bitches. They might cry ****."
"Nah, they've got husbands."
"Precisely. If they don't get home tonight and their husbands find out, what better excuse do they have than ****."
"Oh Jeez, I'm as horny as sailor after a six months voyage, and remember, they said their hubbies were out of town. "
"Go ahead then. Put it to little Sandy. Odds are with you, but I'm going to wait until Jan sobers up. Well, maybe not completely."
"What do I tell my boner. It�
