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Open Marriage Chronicles 
By Bill & Ellen (address withheld)

***

The story of Ellen and Bill's swinging lifestyle, 
purported to be true. (MF, cpls, swingers, size, 
alcohol)

***

Author Note: This is a story of a series of events 
covering one and one half years of our married life. 
This essentially true, just as it happened. All names 
have been changed to protect the guilty.

***

CHAPTER 1 Florida Heat

We were vacationing on Florida's west coast when I 
suggested to Ellen that she should date others. After 8 
years of marriage, we'd had no serious arguments, but 
now she was irritated.

We were discussing this a half hour before sunset while 
we were in our swim wear, washing our Porsche on the 
narrow strip of grass separating the rented house and 
the beach. She calmed down, then laughed, convinced 
that his wasn't a ploy to allow me to fool around. 
She'd been so opposed to the suggestion that I was 
surprised when she finally caved in, agreeing, "Okay, 
Bill. I'll consider it. But it's a dumb idea."

I breathed liked I'd just run a mile and said, "All I 
ask is that you tell me about the dates." She smirked 
doubtfully, but her eyes were telling me that her anger 
had been supplanted by an excited imagination. Before 
we'd married, Ellen had been a beach wear and cosmetics 
model. A daughter of a Presbyterian minister, she 
didn't smoke and had never drunk alcohol. 

Now, thanks to dieting and Bally, her measurements were 
the same as when I'd met her. She's 5'8", has waist-
length black hair, the rare color of brilliant, gray 
eyes, and a figure that turns men's heads. Here in her 
white string bikini, she looked even more appealing.

The car now shined like new. I was lifting the portable 
vacuum when we glanced toward a young blond man, his 
fist gripping a sketch pad as he walked up from the 
beach. He was wearing a light blue button-down shirt 
with epaulets and khaki safari slacks. He introduced 
himself as Greg, an art student at a local college. He 
asked directions to a nearby diner. With his tall, 
lithe body and tanned face, he looked more like a 
surfer than an artist.

Bending to pick up the chamois and her white hip-length 
terry robe, Ellen smiled. She was appraising Greg's 
handsome features. Her nervous blush looked like an 
advanced case of sunburn. She tossed me a quizzical 
nod. I picked up her cue and grinned toward Greg, "We 
haven't eaten either." Turning to Ellen, I blurted, 
"How about inviting this starving student over for 
dinner?"

Ellen beamed, agreeing enthusiastically, "Terrific 
idea," and turning to Greg, offered, "How about 
lobster?"

He declined politely, but upon Ellen's urging, finally 
nodded affirmatively, "Lobster sounds great. Thanks." I 
walked behind Greg. His gaze followed Ellen's tall, 
beach-robed figure up the pebbled flagstones to the 
back door. In the dimly lit kitchen, Ellen slipped on 
her white high-heeled pumps, accentuating her long 
legs.  

Although shy, Greg turned frequently to look at her as 
she prepared dinner. He was living with two roommates 
in a rented duplex two blocks from the college. He knew 
little about sports, and I knew even less about art; so 
the conversation was strained until Ellen joined us. 
After dinner, she took a shower, then returned in a 
low-cut dark blue robe to sit on the floor between me 
in a chair and Greg on the couch. She was wearing 
nothing beneath the satiny material that clung to her 
body, contouring her nipples.

I set chips and dip on the rattan coffee table and 
opened a bottle of white wine for Greg and me and a 
diet soda for Ellen. There was no mistaking the sexual 
electricity irradiating between them. Their eyes locked 
as they exchanged stories of their lives "before 
Florida." His gaze fell now and then to her bared leg 
and to the smooth midnight-blue material that exposed 
the pale sides of her breasts.

Occasionally a word would catch in their throats. Both 
swallowed in excitation when their hands brushed as she 
offered him potato chips, her hand lingering to touch 
his. Because Greg was lean and hardened, I doubted that 
he usually ate snacks. But now, he didn't refuse any, 
allowing him another opportunity to caress her hand.

She asked him to teach her some basic sketching rules, 
suggesting that they do so in what Floridians called 
the "Florida room." In Long Island, we called it a den. 
She preceded him into the room, tuned the stereo to a 
soft FM station, then came out to search for a bottle 
of champagne and two glasses. She whispered her plan to 
me. She returned to Greg, closing the door.

As she suggested, I slipped out of the house, drove the 
car a block away, locked it, and sprinted back to an 
area between the darkened hedge and the Florida room's 
broad shuttered window. All other lights in the house 
were now turned off. The summer heat had allowed us to 
keep the glass shutters open, so I could almost 
everything they said.

I was wondering how she'd handle champagne as I watched 
her sipping her half-empty glass. She was curled 
alongside him on the couch. Their conversation 
diminished to whispers and soft laughter. She glanced 
beyond the window but was unable to see me in the 
darkness. Turning to Greg, she pursed her lips and 
inquired, "Do you like to dance?" When he murmured he 
didn't know how to slow-dance, she offered to teach 
him. He accepted. His speech was slurred from the 
champagne's intoxication.

She turned the dimmer switch. A soft glow bathed the 
room as she held out her hand, beckoning him. They 
swayed together, her cheek brushing his.

He stroked her hair. He held her a moment after the 
second song ended, then turned away to drink the last 
of his champagne.

Ellen's face was flushed now. Her soft lips trembled 
with fear and passion as she danced slowly with Greg. 
She swallowed nervously, glancing to his engorged 
manhood surging beneath his slacks. Another melody 
drifted from the stereo. She closed her eyes as he 
reached for her. The tips of her fingers traced a 
sensuous path down his neck. Her mouth formed an "oh" 
as her lips touched his. Ellen's hips were gyrating in 
eager passion.

Greg opened her robe, sliding it from her shoulders. 
Her nipples were erect. Her body trembled in excitation 
as the robe fluttered to the floor. She blushed as he 
pulled her to him, his lips crushing hers.

Ellen's hands shook as she removed his shirt. Her legs 
shaking, she sank to her knees to unbuckle his belt. 
She pulled his slacks down his long legs, her full lips 
brushing his chest and stomach.

The largest member she'd ever seen burst free. She 
gulped fearfully, her eyes widened in disbelief.

Now, on her knees and cringing in terrified awe as 
Greg's long cock swayed before her, she looked like a 
sacrificial virgin worshiping at a serpentine altar.

Shuddering, she licked her crimson lips. Her full pale 
breasts were rippling with passion. I could feel the 
desire radiating between them as her mouth strained to 
encircle his shaft that was curving up from the tuft of 
blond pubic hair. Ellen was moaning. Her hips were 
rolling back and forth like waves on the beach.

Greg gaped at his glistening manhood. The fullness of 
her lips glided along its length. As he glanced to the 
pulsing blue numbers of a shelf-top's digital clock, 
"What if your husband returns early from work?"

She muttered, her soft voice quaking, "He won't. He 
works near Tampa Bay and won't be home until eight in 
the morning."

He lifted her from the floor, then lowered her to the 
couch, tasting her melon-like breasts. He sucked each 
firm, reddened nipple until they stood out like spikes. 
Her face was burning, her breath hissing like a 
radiator.

Ellen pressed her breast's soft ripeness against his 
face, her cries of pleasure piercing the room's air. 
She squeezed his cock, its purple, bulbous head surging 
inches beyond the breadth of her small fist. Mewing in 
ardor, she had forgotten that I was watching.

I envied Greg's length. My shaft was now as hard as his 
as I unzipped and pulled it from my slacks, pumping 
slowly.

He pushed her trembling legs apart. Her pale coral 
mound pulsated. I realized then that she'd shaved her 
public hair while in the shower.

His lips grazed her swollen clitoris, causing her body 
to shimmy. She rotated her smoothness against his mouth 
as he moved up her body. And finally, his tongue was 
twirling against hers.

My chest heaved in excitement as he mounted her.

Her body shivered, her eyes following the downward path 
of his shaft. Her eager cunt quivered upward to touch 
the intrusive member. She moaned. Tears of pleasure 
pooled in her eyes as his broad cock-head pushed 
through her creaming cuntal folds. Her fervid tunnel 
now engulfed his shaft as she hissed, "Oh GOD! I'm on 
FIRE!" Her trembling thighs caressed his back, reeling 
him in.

And then, she was wailing with lust. He pistoned deep 
within her. Ellen thrashed her head from side to side. 
Her hips swirled as she reveled in his heated fucking. 
Swinging her legs around his shoulders, she pressed her 
back against the cushions, squealing, her eyes 
glistening with tears. Her face registered surprise 
with each steaming entry of his massive cock. Her voice 
quavering, she whimpered, "Oh, GOD! GREG! I've never 
FELT like this!"

Thrusting into her quaking pussy, Greg was immersed in 
the culmination of their lust. His jaw slackened. His 
chest heaved as he looked down on her rolling eyes. He 
moaned unintelligible noises I could remember making as 
a young marine fucking women who were never as gorgeous 
as Ellen! I couldn't have imagined being with a woman 
that beautiful! A MARRIED woman!

Her body shimmied. Unable to tear her eyes away from 
the monstrous cock ramming into her shaved pussy, she 
cried, "Oh Greg, I LOVE your cock! God HELP me! I LOVE 
FUCKING YOU!"

I was drugged with a time-stilling sensation as she 
rolled, pulling Greg beneath her.

Straddling him, she slowly impaled herself on his cock, 
her fiery well of passion sucking in his long steaming 
poker.

Gaping at her cuntal folds enveloping his firm manhood 
as she bucked against him, Greg murmured, "I love it 
too, Ellen. I love fucking YOU!"

I now leaned against the window so closely, I could 
smell the perspiration steaming from their inflamed 
bodies. I was stroking my elongated member in rhythm 
with my heart, which was thumping like a sledgehammer.

Greg disengaged. Pushing Ellen to her knees on the 
carpet, he mounted her from the rear. She reached 
behind, allowing her trembling fingers to stroke his 
length. Feeling his enormous hardness, she cried out in 
yearning!

She braced her arms against the carpet, spreading her 
knees to accommodate the large tool entering her cunt. 
She gasped. Her mouth and eyes widened as he pushed 
deeper. She was shuddering, aflame with desire. Her 
voice quaking, she pleaded, "Oh, JESUS, Greg! GIVE it 
to me! I NEED your cock!" With tears streaming down her 
face, she pleaded for every inch of the monster that 
was thrusting deep into her lubricated pussy. Although 
he was entering her for the second time, she squealed, 
"Oh GOD! You're splitting me APART!" Her eyes were 
wild, her body flaming in a crimson blush. But when 
he'd sunk his shaft its full length, she wailed, "Oh, 
YES! Greg! YES-S-S!"

Now, as they united in blazing passion, she was 
sobbing. They were thrashing about like hellish demons. 
The yolks of her eyes rolled. She fucked back against 
him wildly in long strokes, shuddering as his large 
balls slapped the mounds of her buttocks. I'd never 
seen Ellen so overcome with lust!

The sheer joy of watching them was incredible! Until 
that night, I'd never heard my wife swear, but now, 
white hot with passion, she was brazenly pleading, "Oh 
GOD DAMN! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, GREG! OH JESUS!" Ellen was 
rolling her head in wide circles. Her eyes told me she 
felt the onrushing orgasm that would soon overtake 
them. The smell of their sex permeated the warm night 
air.

And then Greg, his face contorted, was shrieking, "I'm 
coming! Oh, GOD!" He lifted his head high and groaned, 
increasing his tempo.

Her soft lips ovaled with each entry. Ellen was 
positively radiant as she turned to look at him. His 
hips hammered the roundness of her buttocks. She 
matched each thrust as she told him, "Oh, GOD! It's so 
GREAT, Greg! Come WITH me! I LOVE it! I love YOU! Oh 
yes, I LOVE YOU!" Her blissful moans registered the 
expectant orgasm. Even Greg and I could feel the 
explosion building within her.

And then it came! The sexual thunder was surging 
through them like an avalanche. She shut her eyes 
tightly as they sobbed in unison, their bodies and 
minds intertwined in cosmic eruptions.

I was coming for an eternity. I hadn't realized how 
loudly I'd groaned until moments later when Greg walked 
over to lean against the back of the couch and peer out 
the window. He was startled a moment but then grinned, 
"I didn't know you were still here. Was it okay?" He 
was asking for my approval, not whether I'd enjoyed it.

I zipped my fly. "I'd asked Ellen to give herself to 
you. I hope you don't feel used."

He breathed, "I've never had a greater gift."

I believed him. I walked to the door. Ellen greeted me, 
her gray eyes ablaze in lust. Her breath huffed in 
short bursts as she removed my clothes. Grasping Greg's 
and my shafts, she led us to the shower. A dim light 
filtered through the door from the hallway. Beneath the 
pounding water, our mouths and tongues pleasured Ellen 
until the water heater gave up. 

Now, burning with desire, we toweled off and stumbled 
to the bedroom. Ellen took turns with us until, finally 
exhausted, she crawled to Greg, placed her elbows on 
his chest and looked into his eyes as if in worship. "I 
love you," she told him as she stroked my cock behind 
her. "I love Bill, but I also love YOU. Can you 
understand that?" I wasn't jealous. Her revelation told 
me just how much the experienced had meant to her.

I wish I could say that we were with Greg many more 
times, but we left our vacation cottage the next day. A 
letter we'd mailed to Greg was returned, stamped 
"Addressee has moved. Current address unknown." 

However, the experience changed our lives. As things 
turned out, she met two other young men who reminded 
her a great deal of Greg - David who lives near us, and 
Brad who visited us with his parents from Long Island. 
But those are Ellen's stories, and she wants to tell 
you herself.

Only later did I realized my desire to share Ellen had 
long been within me. My voyeuristic tendencies, the 
pleasure I have from other men enjoying her beauty, 
were manifestations of this. I think I relive my 
original attraction to her through other men. Ellen now 
admits she enjoys our lifestyle, somehow understanding 
that I'd always taken pride in watching others admire 
her. It's not just to please me; she loves being fucked 
by other men - and when possible - allowing me to 
watch.

Even now, a year later, each seduction is a unique 
experience. With each liaison, another threshold is 
crossed - into what Ellen describes as the land of 
mega-lust. As bizarre as our lives may seem to others, 
the arrangement has had an interesting side effect. I 
haven't once considered cheating. 

Frankly, affairs with other women could never be as 
exciting.
	 	 

CHAPTER 2: Visit, Now The Fire

People who move to Florida learn to expect visitors 
from the north. Early this summer, friends whom Bill 
and I had known in Long Island visited us for three 
days. Darryl and Rita are the only couple to whom we 
have confided that Bill and I have an "open marriage."

With them was their beautifully blond son, Brad, who at 
6'4" is an inch taller than Bill. Talented academically 
and athletically, Brad was now in his second year of a 
community college basketball scholarship. I learned 
later he was a rare breed of another type, a virgin.

The day before they were to drive on to Key West on the 
narrow, 120-mile-long highway above the Atlantic, we 
boated, water-skied, and swam in our lake. After a late 
evening backyard picnic, Darryl and Rita were 
exhausted, trudging off to bed at ten p.m.

Brad joined Bill and me for our nightly two-mile jog 
through the neighborhood. At the outer edge of a street 
lamp's yellow glow a few blocks away, Brad told me my 
elastic headband was tearing and about to break. We 
stopped as I removed it. Bill didn't notice we'd 
dropped back until he was a block away; so he waited 
for us to catch up.

Brad retied the elastic strands. As he replaced it, he 
accidentally brushed by cut-off tee shirt, feeling the 
softness of my breasts. His face reddened beneath the 
street lamp's glare as he apologized, "Sorry, Ellen." 
He stretched the band around my hair.

As his fingers brushed my ears longer than necessary, 
his eyes darted across my bare midriff.

I smiled appreciatively, biting my lower lip. I began 
to realize how handsome Brad was. He was the type of 
young man every twelve-year old boy would want to 
emulate, the perfect basketball star for a movie 
studio's central casting.

We caught up with Bill, Brad running a little behind 
me, then me behind Bill.

When we returned to the house, I noticed that Brad's 
manhood had swelled, curving up beneath his running 
shorts. His member seemed extraordinarily long, but I 
assumed this to be an illusion of the loose folds of 
his shorts. I think Brad saw me glance down at his 
hardness as I muttered, "Good night. See you in the 
morning."

We went upstairs. As I walked from the shower behind 
Bill to our bedroom, I noticed Brad had left the door 
to his room open. Darryl and Rita were in the 
downstairs bedroom. Brad's room was next to ours.

In bed, I whispered to Bill what I'd observed.

He grinned, telling me he'd noticed Brad had a semi-
erection that afternoon while watching me water-ski or 
just walk around in my string bikini. Bill added, "I'm 
sure you're right about his length. I even think that 
Tom's nine inches might be dwarfed by Darryl's and 
Rita's son." I smiled at the mention of Tom, an 
employee of Bill's who'd served under Bill in the 
marines; the length of Tom's manhood had long been a 
topic he'd been kidded about. Bill went on, "I'd 
assumed the reason Brad was running behind us was just 
to admire your figure."

Bill's a "watcher" who enjoys watching me engage in 
adultery with other men - or just telling him about 
occasional dates I have with Bill's permission. 
Although that had been Bill's idea at first, I now 
adore this arrangement. But, I sometimes feel a bit 
guilty when I consider that Bill hasn't once been with 
another woman.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Bill rose from bed 
quietly and opened our bedroom door. He returned to 
bed, dialed our own phone number, clicked down the 
receiver-button, and waited for the telephone to ring. 
Of course, all one receives when doing this is a 
telephone company recording telling the caller that 
he's dialed his own number.

Bill "answered" the imaginary caller, then murmured a 
few business-like remarks. He concluded with, "Sure, I 
can come down to the warehouse." Hanging up, he 
explained with a wink, "My employees found some 
inventory problems. The comptroller says I should be at 
warehouse-supply while they finish up the count. I'll 
call you on our bedroom line before I come home at 
seven a.m. to make sure I don't wake anyone too early." 
Bill was perfect. Brad heard every word.

Bill drove a block away, parked the car, quietly 
reentered the house through the back door, and climbed 
the stairs with the grace of a cat to our room. 
Whispering his plan, he positioned himself behind the 
door to our walk-in closet.

As he suggested, I let my nightgown puddle onto the 
floor, pulled my transparent white negligee over my 
nudity and walked past Brad's open door to the bath. I 
brushed my teeth, clanked around a few bottles to make 
sure Brad heard, then walked back down the hallway.

When I was in front of Brad's door, I turned casually 
to the window, my back to Brad, to look out over our 
large oak tree to the lake. I glimpsed the window's 
glass reflection; Brad sat up, watching me from his 
bed. I was hoping he would find some reason to join me 
in the hallway.

I waited less than a minute. Brad would later tell me 
he was burning with passion as he lay naked on his bed, 
staring through his door, his long erect manhood 
pushing his sheet a foot toward the ceiling.

I untied the ribbons at the neck of my transparent 
negligee, allowing it to fall open. The warm wind 
shuddered the leaves of the old oak tree, causing a 
branch to brush against the window pane. I heard a 
squeak, then a shuffle as he rose from his bed.

He padded into the moonlit hallway, a large, bright red 
towel wrapped around his hips. Pretending he didn't 
know I'd been standing there, he apologized, "Oh, 
sorry, Ellen. I was just going to the bath." His 
engorged member was curving upward, pushing the crimson 
towel out an unbelievable length, straight toward me!

I turned, nervously. My nudity was revealed through the 
negligee's open sheerness.

Brad stared down, whispering as his eyes surveyed my 
body, "What time is it?" His sexual tension was 
palpable.

I whispered softly, "Eleven-thirty. Beautiful view of 
the water from here, isn't it?" My throat pulsated. I 
gulped, staring at the form of his large penis 
protruding beneath the towel.

His eyes glinted. He responded with strained 
casualness, "Yes, everything's beautiful here."

We whispered small talk, each pretending not to notice 
the other's nudity, yet fearfully aware of the other's 
forbidden excitation. I placed my hand on his warm, 
muscular shoulder as we looked out the window. Finally, 
his arm slithered softly around my waist, beneath my 
negligee. I exhaled, gasping at the electricity as his 
warm nakedness touched mine.

And there we stood, talking in low voices about the 
moonlit scene, each knowing we shouldn't, while 
pretending we weren't. Tremors rippled through our 
bodies. I stretched and yawned, my fingers brushing his 
towel-covered manhood. The towel bounced wildly! Until 
then, I'd convinced myself that his size was an 
illusion. Now, I gasped in fear!

I murmured, my voice quaking, "Sweet dreams, Brad. I'm 
going to bed." My throat was choked with desire. I 
kissed him, motherly-like, on a cheek. My bared breast 
brushed the smoothness of his shoulder. I was 
breathless as I walked shakily to my bedroom, my knees 
trembling.

He entered the bath, ran a couple of minutes of water, 
and padded softly back toward his room. He could see me 
laying on my side, nude, at the hallway's end through 
my open door.

Brad lingered in the hall until deciding I was asleep. 
He walked to my door. Removing the flame-red towel, he 
draped it over a shoulder. He swallowed nervously as he 
surveyed my curves. His chest was heaving, both with 
fear of being caught and boyish excitement. His 
incredible hardness curved upward, bobbing in 
excitation. I'm sure he felt cleverly successful, 
sneaking this sight of my nudity as he leaned against 
the door jamb.

I don't often think about my looks, but I'm aware that 
my face and body are what others consider beautiful. I 
realized the effect that this was having on this 
incredibly naive boy. Shuddering I gazed through half-
closed eyelids at his wide shoulders and the lengthy 
cock curving up from his thick patch of blond hair. As 
if tossing in my sleep, I stretched out my right leg, 
pushing my left knee toward him. I bent my left arm 
along my side to allow him the full view of my breasts 
and shaved mound.

His jaw sagged. His eyes widened. He gazed upon my 
body, shadowed in stripes by the moonlight spilling 
through the Venetian blinds. His cock twitched. He 
pressed his hands against the door jamb as if he were 
about to faint.

I rolled to my back and whispered, my voice shaking, 
"Come in, Brad."

He was flustered at being discovered until realizing 
that my own passions throbbed with the erotic intensity 
of his own. He walked in softly, closing and locking 
the door. He sat alongside me, asking, "You don't 
mind?"

Did I MIND! ME? In the unquenchable flames of throbbing 
passion? Oh sure, I did. My body was beyond control. 
Hell's fire was coursing through my veins. I remembered 
a fleeting memory of my grandmother telling me when I 
was young girl, how our family's gray-eyed ancestors 
were once believed to be witches. I knew I couldn't 
have been a witch; witches purportedly could control 
the supernatural. I couldn't even control my own 
exploding desire!

My full lips quivered as I looked upon the largest cock 
I'd ever seen, curving up like a Turkish scepter from 
Brad's absolutely perfect body. How could a woman MIND! 
I was being offered the opportunity to worship at the 
serpentine alter of his perfect bodily temple.

Radiating with passion, I moaned, reaching for the 
magnificent instrument bobbing before me.

My fingers didn't meet as my hand curved around its 
rubbery thickness. My face burned madly as I gazed upon 
the incredible manhood I was squeezing.

My body was now ablaze! I was wide-eyed with fear and 
passion. With trembling hands, I stroked his monstrous 
hardness. My quivering lips parted as he leaned to kiss 
me.

He murmured, a tremor in his tight voice, "I've never 
been with a woman. You're so beautiful." It was as if 
he were apologizing for his shaking, his white-hot 
passion as evident as my own.

I glanced to the closet door Bill had left ajar. I was 
unable to see my husband, but I knew he would now be 
feeling my own mad desire, pumping his hardened cock in 
the closet's darkness.

I closed my eyes as I relished Brad's hands exploring 
the soft curves of my body. My nipples tingled as his 
lips closed around a hard reddened spike. Impassioned 
fear churned in my stomach. I gasped as his slippery 
tongue twisted and winded its way to my shaved mound.

Thrusting my hips to his face, I grinded my softness 
against his mouth, my heart pounding a wanton drum beat 
as his tongue twirled over my clitoris. I wailed at the 
thrills rippling through me like an electric current 
coursing across a thunder-laden sky. Tears of joy 
streaked along my cheeks. Clasping my thighs around his 
ears, I dug my heels into his back as fiery explosions 
blossomed within.

I pulled him above me until his knees were straddling 
my breasts. He braced his arms against the headboard. 
My lips encircled his rubbery monster, my head bobbing 
as my tongue glided along its length. Now, beyond lust, 
I was WORSHIPING this broad, purplish cock thrusting 
down my throat.

His hips hammered his instrument into my mouth until my 
passion was unbearable. The bulging veins throbbed 
against the walls of my mouth.

My voice was muffled by his broad sword. I pleaded, 
"Mphhh! Please, Brad, I WANT you!" He pressed my back 
into the rustling warm folds of soft sheets. My full 
breasts rippled beneath his touch.

Red coals of passion smoldered in my vagina. My hips 
gyrated expectantly. My long legs now opened, eagerly 
inviting the marbled curvature of his cock that hovered 
above the lips of my vagina. Realizing the length and 
breadth of this incredible manhood, I was whimpering 
with fright at it invaded my cuntal folds.

I cried! He was splitting me apart!

Shocks rippled through my groin as he pressed on, 
expanding my vaginal walls. Yet, I'd rather have died 
than have him stop now. I was loving every inch of the 
massive locomotive puffing through my smoking tunnel.

Brad was clearly aware of my difficulty, although I 
sobbed as much in pleasure as in pain. Then, he was as 
far into my gushing depths as he could push. His 
manhood was throbbing as he moved with my rhythm. I 
wailed as he rode me with a fury!

I whimpered, "It's so WONDERFUL!" My cunt was now 
burning in the forbidden fires, my pain disappearing, 
supplanted by pleasure. My long legs, toned by months 
of running and swimming, enveloped his smooth torso as 
my cunt rose to meet his steaming thrusts. My depths 
had never been so filled! Tears streaked across my 
cheeks like rivulets of rain on the windshield of a 
speeding car. My ankles locked around his strong back. 
My blinding passion mounted ever higher.

In the stunning thrills of Brad's fucking, I'd 
forgotten Bill. But as I thrashed my head side to side, 
I glimpsed my husband's nude form step from the closet 
to watch the magnificent weapon invading my quivering 
cunt. Bill was transfixed by the awesomely erotic 
sight. Logic and will abandoned me. I was far too lost 
in this passionate hurricane to acknowledge my husband 
by smiling at him as I normally would while he pumped 
his engorged cock.

Brad's eyes rolled as he plunged into my poised cunt. I 
opened my mouth widely as if this could expand my 
channel further to accept his final inches.

As Bill stared, his jaw sagged. He was pumping his full 
length furiously as Brad and I pulsated with an inner 
radiance toward an impending explosion. My husband's 
eyes told me that his mind and Brad's were now one.

Brad's flames were now united with mine into a blazing 
inferno. Our eyes were glazed. We shuddered with each 
quaking thrust.

The awesome orgasm was rushing toward us like an 
avalanche!

Sobbing, I mewed, "Oh! FUCK me! FUCK me! FUCK ME-E-E-
E!" My will was immersed beneath raging tides that 
coursed through my body. I screamed, "Oh, god HELP me, 
Brad! I LOVE you, Brad! I LOVE YOU!" 

I loved him, loved in adultery. Uniting in flesh that 
which was now in our minds and souls. The onrushing 
orgasm gathered force like a runaway tornado. I pulled 
him tighter with my legs, lurching my hips against his. 
He rammed his tool to the hilt, crushing my clitoris 
against the base. 

I screamed, "Oh, JESUS! I FEEL it! You're in so FAR! I 
WANT you blasting within me!"

And then, oh GOD, it HAPPENED! In a blinding flash, we 
were coming in thunderous waves, bursting in a 
supernova of pleasure. I went wild with joy. His warm 
fluids burst within me.

My mind was exploding in fiery fragments that spider-
legged like a million falling stars across the evening 
skies.

Brad lay across my breasts in the blissful afterglow of 
our adultery, our arms intertwined for an eternity of a 
half-minute until I remembered Bill.

Bill had returned to the closet and closed the door. 
Because of my now unquenchable desire, my husband would 
have to remain there until morning. Brad was mine alone 
for that incredible night.

Brad turned me to my knees, my hands braced on our 
headboard. His massive member was entering my vagina 
from the rear.

I turned to stare, awed by his long cock. Watching the 
instrument pushing deeply into my excitedly lubricated 
cunt, I spread my knees ever wider. The breadth of his 
penis filled me. I sobbed in pleasure, my hand trembled 
as I caressed his length behind me.

He slowly thrust into me until I was whimpering with 
pleasure, "I love you, Brad! I LOVE you!" And then, he 
was riding me wildly! I was screaming like a helpless 
victim on a runaway roller coaster, the yolks of my 
eyes rolling.

I sucked in my breath at the stunning sensations. As he 
fucked into my depths, I stared back, my lips wide with 
wonder. I couldn't tear my vision from the magnificent 
cock that was skewering me! We shared a sigh.

His manhood was growing even greater, expanding in the 
oncoming orgasm like gas in an overfilled balloon. I 
gasped. My clitoris fluttered as if to tell me we would 
be coming together in a mind shattering finale! My back 
arched expectantly as my long nails dug into his hips 
behind me. I could feel every throbbing inch as he 
plunged through my inflamed walls.

And then we were exploding in rapture! Crying with wild 
abandon, I shuddered amid the earth quake of my climax. 
His hot semen burst through my channel. The creamy 
fluid splattered my inner walls, washing over his cock. 
He was erupting like a volcano with no end to its 
molten flow of lava. A starburst of pleasure exploded 
within my body.

He didn't stop, nor did I want him to! Brad fucked me 
voraciously for hours in every imaginable position. He 
was the first person to ever outlast my stamina. Until 
that night, I thought that I was insatiable.

Finally in the predawn, I collapsed in complete 
gratification.

Brad sneaked back into his room. He was still asleep 
when Darryl and Rita awakened at ten a.m.

And yet, the greatest surprise of their visit came just 
after breakfast. Rita and I had walked out to the 
boathouse for a conversation before they packed to 
leave. She smiled, "Thank you for what you did for Brad 
last night."

I was shocked, unable to respond. Rita placed a gentle 
hand on my arm and added, "No, I mean it. Brad has been 
completely engrossed in clubs, basketball, and school 
for six years. Darryl and I were worried that he might 
be impotent. Or even gay.

"And we knew you and Bill lead this open-marriage type 
life. We were hoping that this would happen. We'd 
talked about it for weeks before our visit. Darryl and 
I went up to Brad's room about midnight. We saw he 
wasn't there. Then we heard Brad's moaning from your 
bedroom."

She smiled softly. "I have to admit that Darryl was 
leaning against the door for perhaps fifteen or twenty 
minutes. We heard you say to Brad that Bill was at the 
plant until morning." She sighed, wistfully, 
remembering the moment like it was her own. "We were 
absolutely thrilled. We became...well very excited from 
the passion pouring out of your room. We went back to 
our bedroom. I was floating on air. We fucked the night 
away!"

Her eyes glinted with sexual excitement. She leaned 
forward, kissing me fully on the lips, saying, "So, I 
really mean it! Thank you!" As an afterthought, she 
added, "And I'll be sure to let Brad visit you alone 
during school break...if you WANT him. I won't tell him 
that I know."

She knew I wanted her son. She KNEW I could still feel 
his throbbing manhood deep inside me! I realized she 
didn't know Bill had stayed to watch.

I laughed, uncontrollably, hugging Rita, feeling closer 
than I'd ever felt to her before. "I'd absolutely love 
it, Rita! Just as I love you!"

She has phoned to thank me on three occasions since. 
The only time she didn't mention this incident as I've 
described it was the one time her son was nearby.

Believing his parents don't know, Brad insists on 
visiting us at the end of the next quarter because he 
loves "water skiing in Florida." And, of course, he has 
his parents' enthusiastic approval. Rita says that she 
and Darryl often fantasize about Brad and me while 
they're in the privacy of their bedroom. She says, 
"God! I get so hot when I think about it!"

The exquisite sin of adultery, you know, has after-
shocks, affecting many lives other than just those of 
the people who commit it. For Bill and me, and for 
those who have touched our lives, the results have been 
immeasurably gratifying.
	 	 

CHAPTER 3: Dating

After a year of our lifestyle, I'm still not sure 
whether "open marriage" is the right term. When Bill 
first encouraged me to date others, I found the idea 
appalling, but now I love this arrangement. Bill hasn't 
shown any interest in involvement with another woman, 
so this has been a one-sided affair. What Bill gets out 
of these dates are the thrills of my telling about my 
extramarital experiences. I agreed to whatever 
adventures Bill might dream up as long as these were no 
threat to our marriage. 

So one night we drove in separate cars to a local live-
entertainment club. I was wearing a red satiny oriental 
dress, baring my back to just below the waist and slit 
to the thigh. I found a table in a dimly lit corner. 
The place was decorated with nostalgia gimmicks no one 
would want in their home but somehow looked just right 
in the lounge. I gazed around the crowd and listened to 
the three-piece band's soft music. 

Minutes later, Bill walked in, sat at the bar and 
ordered a wine cooler. He acknowledged me with a smile, 
then turned away. He glanced back now and then as 
several men eyed me, clearly with sexual intentions.

When I wear heels, some men under 6 feet avoid making 
passes at me because of my 5'8" height. This was the 
problem this night until a tall attractive man, his 
hair black as my own, noticed Bill glancing toward me 
from the bar. Attired in a dark blue blazer, white polo 
shirt, and white tropical slacks, he turned as I smiled 
quietly at Bill, not the stranger. But the man lifted 
his drink, sauntered over to my table, and grinned, 
"With anyone?"

I responded, "I am now, I suppose," smiling as I 
appraised his blue eyes and lean physique. I aged him 
at 28. He was wearing a white gold wedding ring like 
mine, but I pretended not to notice, and so did he.

He squinted at me through the dimness and, with a look 
of surprise, remarked, "I haven't seen anyone with gray 
eyes in years!"

I smiled, "An inherited trait." I hear that a lot. 
There aren't many of us. When gray-eyed people see each 
other, they silently smile in acknowledgement, just as 
I've been told a young person with prematurely gray 
hair returns a smile to another. 

He gave me his name, Phil, but his occupation gave me a 
start. He was a new attorney with the law firm that set 
up Bill's corporation and was now advising Bill's 
office manager, Steve, who runs the business side of 
Bill's engineering practice. We engaged in small talk, 
complimenting the other until he finally asked me to 
dance. 

On the dance floor, he held me closely. Men from around 
the room looked disappointed that they hadn't asked me 
first. The touch of his cheek brushing mine, as Bill 
watched, excited me. By the middle of the second song, 
he was gently pressing his groin against mine. I was 
fighting to control my gasps as I felt his firmness 
growing beneath his slacks. 

My face burned at his openly sexual gesture, but soon 
in excitation, I was brushing my mound against his 
hardness. I could feel my nipples tingling against the 
satin of my dress. 

He whispered, "Do you have plans tonight?"

"Don't you have to go home?" I queried, my voice 
trembling as I remembered his wedding ring.

"My wife's a pharmaceutical sales rep," he said softly. 
"She's in Chicago until Tuesday at her company's 
headquarters gathering." He'd remembered my own ring 
and had no reason to lie.

I allowed him to press me closer. His skin radiated a 
heat like my own. The female singer's long, slow melody 
of adulterous longing seemed dedicated to our 
intertwined bodies. When it ended, I realized Bill and 
I hadn't planned this very well. 

I lied, "My husband's at a convention. I have no plans, 
Phil." 

We bantered about a bit as I tried to think of what to 
do until finally he came right out with it, "Can we 
spend the night at your place?" His swollen cock was 
now massaging my clitoris.

I was breathing heavily, my eyes wild. My throat 
throbbed fearfully, choked with increasing desire, as I 
breathed, "I'd like to visit the ladies' room." 

He nodded, saying, "I'll meet you back here in a couple 
of minutes." 

When he walked through the crowd to the cashier's desk 
in another room, I strode quickly to Bill, explaining 
the situation. As usual, Bill was wonderful. He 
grinned, "Great. I'll drive over to the office and 
sleep on the couch. If I come home about five a.m., 
will that be enough time?" I agreed, and Bill returned 
to his drink as I waited at the door for Phil.

We drove in separate cars. The late evening streets 
were still wet from a brief Florida thundershower. The 
Mercedes' diesel engine throbbed like my chest. 
Although I'd slept with other men, this would be my 
first true "date." The multi-colored lights of neon 
signs, street lamps, and a line of cars streaming west 
to the suburbs cast long brilliant reflections on the 
wet highway. I glanced back now and then at Phil's red 
Fiero following closely. 

Stopping at a traffic light a block from the lounge, I 
stared at a Cadillac's bumper sticker ahead of me and 
smiled. The bumper sticker read, "Lead Me Not Into 
Lust, For I Shall Find It Myself."

We emerged from separate cars into our garage. He 
murmured, "My god, I just noticed the name on the 
mailbox! I know your husband, by name anyway!"

I laughed. "I told you my name at the lounge. You 
didn't ask for my husband's. Don't be so up-tight, 
Phil!" Actually, I was more tense than Phil, not from 
his association with the law firm but from the desire 
that had grown with each mile I drove home. Inside, 
Phil removed his coat, poured a drink from our bar and 
searched out a diet soda from the refrigerator for me. 
He walked upstairs to meet me in the bedroom.

I'd turned on the stereo and flicked on a table lamp, 
bathing the room in a dim red glow that seemed to 
accentuate my inner heat. I turned, my hands on my hips 
and legs spread wide on the carpet as I faced him. He 
stared, his manhood bulging beneath his slacks, and 
breathed, "God, you're incredible!" 

My breasts heaved as he set the drinks on the 
nightstand and took me in his arms. He unzipped my 
dress, puddling it onto the floor, then unbuttoned his 
shirt. I trembled, barely able to stand as he grinded 
his hardness against my clitoris. I fell to my knees 
and pulled away his slacks, his nine-inch instrument 
bobbing against my lips as his fingers stroked my neck. 

I moaned at his sensuous touch. I was mesmerized by the 
dark, purple-veined cock that I was now stroking, my 
hand squeezing it back and forth from its black mass of 
pubic hair to the broad, bulging head. I ovaled my lips 
over the rubbery head, sucking it slowly as he groaned, 
"Oh god, Ellen, you're terrific, oh god, oh god..." 

My tongue slid along his length as his hips writhed, 
pushing it beyond the back of my throat. The smoothness 
glided through me until I was delirious with passion. I 
became one with his cock and the throaty music drifting 
from the stereo. I flamed with desire, my eyes wildly 
rolling up at him as I whimpered with each stroke into 
the fullness of my quivering lips. 

He leaned to cup my breasts, then kneeled behind me as 
his strong hands kneaded the softness of my breasts. 

I fell against his hands until my arms braced against 
the floor. I shuddered as his warm cock brushed my 
flaming vagina from the rear. I muttered, my voice 
quaking, "I'm on fire, Phil. I'm yours!" My hips 
gyrated, as his lengthy hardness entered my lubricated 
channel.

My vaginal walls stretched with each thrilling inch to 
accommodate him. And then he had sheathed the tool to 
its hilt as my mouth opened widely, my eyes rolling 
with the adulterous passion that gripped my searing 
soul. His long shaft radiated, steaming in the hot 
coals of my cunt.

Wailing as he fucked me wildly, I swirled my hips to 
his rhythm. I turned my head to watch as his hips 
bumped against my buttocks, further inflaming my 
passion. Each entry throbbed against my clitoris until, 
deep within, I could feel the thunderous waters of an 
orgasmic flood rushing up to burst through me. I began 
to cry, tears streaking down my cheeks. His blue eyes 
glinted. 

He was biting his lip in excitation when I felt his 
cock swelling. He was about to come with me. He groaned 
passionately. Our eyes locked. As his cock expanded 
within me I spread my legs further as if I could 
somehow allow my vagina to hold even more. I was biting 
the softness of my lower lip as I cried, "It's super, 
Phil! Super! I LOVE it!" I reached behind to touch his 
chest as his cock fucked into my hot, wet depths, which 
were now a vortex of mega-lust that gripped the broad 
cock-head sliding through my love tunnel. 

He increased his tempo. The building orgasm was still 
distant but now rushing up like a mad prehistoric beast 
screaming for air from primeval depths of a misty 
cavern. The earth opened before me. I was falling 
through a bottomless chasm of adulterous pleasure with 
his every thrust, my mind enveloping an unknown 
universe inhabited by only me and Phil.

I shuddered. The beast within was insane with pleasure. 
My whoring had now spanned eons, all sense of time lost 
as I cried out frightfully. I was praying for the 
oncoming super-orgasm but fearing I could no longer 
bear the passionate explosion.

And then, OH GOD! It rolled over us like a landslide! 
My mind and body exploded with staggering force! 
Gigantic stars crashed as I screamed in ecstasy, 
feeling his warm sperm splattering through my channel. 
The planet was quaking beneath me as I sobbed in 
release from the bondage of this adulterous love. 
Crying, I collapsed, beneath the white heat of his 
body.

Later, in the afterglow, we drank wine, watching erotic 
movies on our large-screen VCR from our bed until, 
finally, he mounted me again, missionary position, 
fucking me slowly. I screamed with a second, then 
third, then fourth orgasm, until he came, shuddering 
atop me. Dazed, I muttered, "I love you," and meaning 
it at that moment of gratitude. When he replied, 
"That's nice," because Phil couldn't lie, I laughed and 
hit him softly with my fist.

He left at three a.m. I dialed Bill's office. When Bill 
was in bed beside me a half hour later, I described 
Phil's fucking me just as I'm telling you here, until 
Bill's manhood had risen and was eagerly entering my 
vagina. At times like these, I almost feel a control 
over him. I moaned, muttering my feelings of 
passionately fucking Phil as Bill thrust into me. 

I could feel his tool expand to awesome proportions, 
until finally, reliving my adultery, I came again. Bill 
groaned, his sperm splattering warmly into my vagina. 
We lay side by side facing each other as I answered his 
questions about my feelings when fucking other men. 

I admitted, "You lead me into these situations, but 
once I'm united with another, I can think only of him 
and me. Sometimes I forget I'm married." When his 
eyebrows arched, I smiled, "But I still love you." 

Exhausted, I fell asleep. When I awoke with the 
sunrise, Bill was still looking down at me, grinning in 
approval. 

	 	 
CHAPTER 4: The Heat at Land's Edge

On a Saturday late last March, while Bill was out of 
town on business, I was in a black string-bikini, 
laying on our cypress dock beneath the late afternoon 
sun. The dock juts 50 feet out over the lake to our 
boathouse. The sun's rays rippled through tiers of 
clouds, reddening the lake. 

I looked up as the 22 year old son of an engineering 
consultant, a friend and client of Bill's, drove his 
canvas-topped jeep onto the curving driveway alongside 
our house. 

He walked out back to the dock. He was delivering a 
contract proposal from his father for Bill to look 
over. 

I ignored his darting eyes as he appraised my figure. 
Having been a beach wear and fashion model before our 
marriage just 8 years ago, I was accustomed to even our 
pastor stealing glances at church picnics. I explained 
that Bill wasn't home, had forgotten to tell me about 
it, and asked him leave the papers until Monday when 
Bill was to return.

I hadn't previously met John's son, who confidently 
introduced himself as David. 

He was driving back for the spring quarter to a college 
a hundred miles away and was just dropping off the 
papers on the way. David, with his full, perfectly 
shaped lips, was as handsome as Bill, 16 years younger, 
and a couple of inches shorter. His lean, muscular body 
was particularly evident in his polo shirt and white 
swim trunks as he stood on the dock between me and the 
setting sun. 

He nodded, acknowledging our water skis on a rack 
inside the boathouse, then commented, "We have a ski 
boat and boat ramp at the school's lake. I love water 
skiing!" It was clearly a request for an invitation.

"Okay," I smiled, "I'm Ellen. How about a half hour's 
water skiing? I'll operate the boat." 

Grinning, he helped me secure the tow rope to the 
stern. The skis tight on his feet, he was standing knee 
deep in water as I powered up and threw him the tow 
rope. 

The "half hour" became an hour, and it was now dark. 

While operating the boat, watching David's athletic 
form in the rearview mirror, I was remembering another 
younger man, Greg, whom Bill had encouraged to seduce 
me the previous fall. Although I had no such thoughts 
about David, those sexual memories were churning in my 
stomach as I reached to pull David from the moonlit 
water. 

The touch of our hands was electric. His long stare at 
my breasts unsettled me. His chest heaving noticeably, 
he kept stealing glances at my legs and breasts as I 
steered back across the lake. My knuckles were white on 
the wheel as I fought my urge to return his stare. I 
sniffed deeply, drawing in the pungent odor of the 
motor's gasoline as if that would clear the thoughts 
swirling through my mind.

As we putted into the boathouse's darkness, he grappled 
with the tie lines, securing the boat to the dock. 
Plopping into the rear seat, he exhaled. 

Afraid to look at him, I waited. He didn't move. 

I swallowed nervously, when he breathed, "Need to relax 
a minute. Thanks, Ellen, I really enjoyed it." Then, he 
added, haltingly, "You're truly beautiful." He was 
trying to hide the tightness in his voice. 

Trembling fearfully, I turned, staring down at his 
long, curved hardness straining beneath his white swim 
trunks. I blushed, feeling the warmth surging through 
my body.

Our eyes locked. 

My lips were quivering. I gulped, "You want something 
else, David?" And I knew what he wanted. What we both 
wanted. Each time I sense that a man wishes to make 
love, I feel an unexplainable fear pounding in my 
throat and deep within my stomach. I felt that now as 
David reached for my hand and pulled me toward him, 
kissing me deeply. 

My face burned in the electrical current of sexuality 
irradiating between us. 

I whimpered, my hips rotating in involuntary excitation 
as he untied my swim suit and lowered me to the boat's 
carpeted floor. 

I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the 
boathouse. 

David slipped off his white swim trunks. He hovered 
above me, his instrument unbelievably long and slender! 
I couldn't take my eyes off the engorged penis, curving 
and pointing toward me like a threatening weapon! His 
lips trembled down the path of my body to my shaved 
mound. 

I moaned, pressing my heels against the boat's 
carpeting, my cuntal lips pulsating. My nipples were 
standing out like spikes as David kissed the softness 
of my breasts. 

White hot with desire, I enwrapped my long legs about 
his slender body, pulling him to me. His throbbing 
manhood swayed closer to the vee of my long, spread 
legs, until my smooth mound quivered up to meet it. I 
murmured, my voice trembled, "You're beautiful also, 
David."

David's eyes blazed with youthful lust. The moonlight 
shone brilliantly against his purple-veined scepter. 
His fiery poker slithered into my vagina, probing my 
depths. My belly quivered as I pulled away, then 
lurched upward again. My cuntal walls were steaming, my 
fear now overcome by excitation. I whimpered, locking 
my ankles around his back. 

His soft, pale lips enveloped a hard, reddened nipple. 
He matched his motions to mine as my hips came up to 
launch his lengthy missile deep into me with a twisting 
thrust. His hands stroked the shapeliness of my legs. 
His glazed eyes rolled as he realized the monumental 
ardor of the delicious sin. Fucking a MARRIED woman! 
The WIFE of his father's friend! He murmured, in 
exquisite passion, "It's so wonderful!" 

My sighs were bursting each time he entered me. I 
looked down at his cock, my mouth wide with wonder as I 
watched his hips rise to display the glowing marvel 
that disappeared with each thrust into my radiant 
depths. I was delirious, smoldering with passion, my 
hips rising to meet his every entry. My groin flamed as 
his long tool slithered through my channel. I moaned, 
"It's so big! You're killing me!" My breasts heaved in 
rhythm with David's gasps. 

I was tossing my head, my hair flailing the warm night 
air. I screamed ecstatically, "Oh, David! Oh my GOD! 
It's marvelous! Marvelous!" I was positively loving it. 
My eyes and mouth opened widely as I relished the 
stunning mega-thrills! I was moaning uncontrollably now 
as I watched his curved hardness fucking into me. 

I hadn't realized my lubricious tunnel was so deep as 
to accept this length. Squeezing my vagina around it, I 
was going mad with ungodly passion under his long 
strokes! The higher I raised my legs as he pistoned in 
and out, the deeper he bored. My hips rolled from side 
to side of their own volition, making his cock rotate 
and wriggle within my throbbing channel. An orgasmic 
rhapsody crescendo through me like an impending 
explosion. 

David shuddered, his brilliant green eyes staring into 
mine, knowing we were almost there, at the outer limits 
of the cosmos! He thrust into me with a fury. My tight 
flesh parted reluctantly, then closed tightly around 
his manhood as he plowed into my trembling body.

And it came! Booming throughout the darkness. Our 
orgasm ruptured the universe, flooding through me like 
an awesome rapture in my soul. Heaven thundered, a 
billion exploding stars lighting the boathouse. 

Now, moaning and coming together, we were one, glowing 
like a blast furnace! We wailed as the earth-moving 
climax lifted our bodies from the planet. Our arms 
intertwined, our lips pressed together, we rolled to 
our sides. 

My legs squeezed his hips as I pressed my mound against 
him to relish the firm manhood throbbing in unison with 
my fluttering heart.

Nude, we walked through the darkness of our tree-
enclosed yard to the house. 

David stayed the night, fucking me with the male animal 
stamina possessed only by a 22 year old. "I love you," 
he told me after we showered, standing next to our bed. 

Intoxicated by his male odor, I kneeled before him. The 
fullness of my lips enveloped his enormous cock. My 
head bobbed along its length, my tongue sliding softly 
over the bulging veins.

He pushed me gently, until I was facing away from him, 
on my knees, then entered my cunt from the rear. My 
hands flat on the carpet, his arms braced me as he 
fucked me from behind. His naked hips slapped my 
buttocks. His instrument pistoned into me as I 
shuddered wildly with pleasure. 

I was fucking back against him as I rolled my head, 
groaning my gratitude! Long rippling waves of orgiastic 
joy tingled through my depths. "Oh, GOD, David," I 
moaned in an unguarded moment as I turned to touch his 
wonderful instrument driving into me from behind, "I 
love you also! I LOVE you! I LOVE you!" And I did. For 
that long and lovely night. 

When my husband returned, I told him everything. 

He grinned, his eyes illumined as we relived the 
adultery, the greatest my pleasures. 


CHAPTER 5: The Game

ELLEN'S STORY:

Although Bill objects to the word, "addicted," that's 
the best term I can think of to describe his attachment 
to card games. At the peak of our experiment with open 
marriage, bi-weekly Friday night poker had become a 
ritual with him and his friends, held at our home. Like 
young boys, they called themselves the Nautilus Pack 
because of their membership in a health club. 

"The game at Pier Point" was what the players called 
it, referring to our home's wooden pier that stretches 
out over the lake behind our house to the land's edge. 
Each evening the pier looks like a walkway to the sun 
that sets across the water.

When they held poker night, I would go out with a 
divorced friend, Christine. 

Last May, Christine confided that each of these pack 
members had occasional flings, adding, "except, of 
course, for your husband, Bill." She'd learned this 
from our friend, Paul, with whom she had recently been 
involved for some three months. I was stunned only by 
her mention of Tom, a one-time seminary student who'd 
been a friend of Bill's since their days as 
Reconnaissance Marines. I couldn't have imagined Tom 
playing around!

Over the next two weeks, I found myself awakening after 
wild dreams about sex with faceless men who - I somehow 
realized - played poker every other Friday. So I begged 
off one night out with Chris and laid a plan. I would 
be staying home during the poker game.

BILL'S STORY:

Because I'd encouraged Ellen over the past two years to 
dress provocatively, I couldn't complain about her 
outfit the night she offered to stay home and help 
serve snacks at the poker game. She was wearing a loose 
red blouse and red skirt that was slit along her sides 
to the waist. Her black hair hung loosely over her 
shoulders. She wore her highest heels, which made her 
taller than two of the players.

Each man arriving was surprised to see Ellen. Sitting 
across the gaming table from them, I grinned, noticing 
them glancing at her from the corners of their eyes as 
she walked to and from the kitchen. Ellen was serving 
short drinks and small snacks to make sure she'd be 
coming and going frequently.

When the demand slowed, she relaxed on the sofa in the 
living room and inserted a CD into the stereo. We could 
observe her through the high arched door separating the 
rooms. She lay back, her legs crossed as she leafed 
through a magazine. Because her skin was slightly 
burned from sunning alongside the pool and lake the day 
before, her long legs glowed red beneath the lamp 
behind her. 

She seemed detached and unconcerned, but I think even 
at that time, I was catching onto her plan. She looked 
toward us occasionally, noticing one - then another - 
glancing away from his cards toward her.

Leo's luck was sagging. His head was down so far, 
staring at a sad hand that all I could see was his 
brown hair, like he had no face. He grumbled, "Tough 
game! Want to watch ESPN instead?" he was hooted down, 
called a "wussy." So he laughed, "You guys have no 
sympathy at all! What if we just ask Ellen to dance for 
us instead of playing this damn game?"

Tom grinned, "NOW you're talking!" He wasn't serious 
when he turned to Ellen and asked, "How about it? Think 
you could liven up Leo?"

Ellen surprised them, eagerly responding, "Sure! I'm 
only here to serve your bidding!" She turned up the 
stereo, dimmed the living room light, and walked to the 
center of the room. The three players across the table 
looked at each other with eyebrows raised. Paul 
squinted his blue eyes and muttered, "She isn't 
kidding. IS she?"

The last half of a heavy metal French song was 
underway. Maybe because I'm ten years older than Ellen, 
I don't like rock music; but Ellen likes it, so I don't 
object.

Her legs flashed through the open slits in the skirt as 
she twirled.

Ellen's an excellent dancer, and she was showing off 
her athletic ability. Her hips thrust forward savagely, 
her eyes taking in their mutual appreciation. Two of 
them were wide-eyed and grinning broadly. Paul was 
staring intently, his mouth opened like he was watching 
a nude dancer at on of the topless clubs he frequents. 

Maybe I should've known how well she could dance, but I 
didn't, and her performance surprised me. Except during 
her modeling eight or more years before, she'd never 
danced alone before others. So I was a bit taken back, 
realizing just how good she really was. She threw 
everything erotic she knew into the dance. I grinned at 
the guys' pleasure they were enjoying.

Then, as she swirled, thrusting her hips, Ellen 
loosened three buttons from her blouse, exposing a 
generous portion of her ample breasts. Until that 
moment, I hadn't realized she had been sunbathing in 
the nude; but no one could have failed to notice that 
the sunburn covered her breasts.

When it was over, Leo shook his head in disbelief, 
muttering, "Hot Damn!" And when Ellen walked to the 
kitchen for more beer and chips, Leo added, "Best poker 
party we ever had!"

A half hour later, we called a break. Paul walked away 
while Tom, Leo, and I were talking about pro football, 
which bores him. Paul strode into the kitchen where 
Ellen was tidying up.

ELLEN'S STORY:

Paul is lean, his hair as red as my sunburned skin. At 
six-three, he's the only player taller than Bill. He 
walked past me to the sink. Watching him as he toweled 
a splash of picante sauce on his aloha shirt, I said to 
his back, "Hope you don't mind my staying around 
tonight."

He turned off the water, pulled on his sixth beer, and 
turned, grinning, "Glad you're here. Adds class to this 
crowd." Paul had had one beer too many. His eyes were 
on the portion of my breasts that were still displayed 
beneath the half-unbuttoned blouse. I'd crossed a leg 
over the other as I leaned against the counter and 
sipped a tumbler of wine. One leg was bared. 

He gazed over my body, then glanced toward the closed 
door as if someone might walk in. He turned again to me 
and inquired, "Want to join us on the next hand?"

I told him, "I'd be in the way. I stroked my sunburned 
leg, turned to the cabinet behind me, and pulled out a 
bottle of lotion. Spreading the cream over my 
shoulders, I said, "This burn isn't as bad as it looks. 
I'm a little warm, but comfortable." 

The intimacy of the enclosed kitchen excited him. 
Glancing at the lotion bottle, he gulped, "Can I help 
with your back?"

"Sure," I smiled, offering him the bottle. As I turned, 
he splashed the lotion on his hand, smoothing it over 
my neck. His touch was electric. He stroked my 
shoulders erotically. I sighed, "How about the backs of 
my legs?"

I looked behind me. His manhood was surging beneath his 
white slacks. The broad head of his member was bulging 
flat against his stomach, pointing to his belt. His 
face reddened as he saw me staring down at it. He 
mumbled, "Uh, sure, no problem." He squirted cream into 
his hand, then reached beneath the skirt, massaging it 
over my calves in slow circles.

His hand touched the back of my thigh. I turned until 
his broad fingers were brushing the smoothness of my 
shaved mound. I shuddered as his fingers stroked my 
clitoris. Had anyone walked in, his throbbing member 
would have been obvious. 

Glaring like I was warning him, I held out my leg to 
rest in his hand. He reluctantly moved away from my 
groin to my leg. 

Knowing he shouldn't be doing this and pretending he 
wasn't, Paul tried to appear unaffected. I glanced at 
the clock. Five minutes had passed.	 He was holding 
my foot, my leg straight toward him. I wriggled my 
toes, brushing his bulging member, and reminded him, 
"Don't you think it might be time for the game to start 
over?"

He murmured, "Yeah," swallowing. He lowered his hand, 
allowing my foot to linger against his hardness. His 
brown eyes searched my face as he said, "Hope that 
helped." He turned for the bathroom. I heard water 
running for two minutes.

An hour later, I was walking down the hall from the 
bedroom. I heard Tom push away from the table and say, 
"I'm out. Sorry it was so early, but you guys keep 
dealing me lousy hands."

I ducked into the bath. Tom's long shadow turned down 
the hallway's corner. I walked out, bumping into him. I 
asked if he'd like to see the rest of the house.

I walked to the kitchen, picked a bottle of wine and 
two glasses, then escorted him through the rooms. 
Upstairs, our arms brushed against the other's. I 
didn't move away. Tom was slightly intoxicated by the 
time we walked through the bedroom toward the hot tub. 
He hadn't seen our waterbed before and was staring down 
at it for a half minute. I took his hand and led him to 
the hot tub room. The room was lit by a dim red bulb.

Tom muttered, "Looks like fun."

I agreed, "Sure. With an agreeable tub partner."

Tilting his glass, he peered over its rim, his gaze 
roaming my body as he said, "Any time."

I was a little drunk as I nodded affirmatively and 
acknowledged, "Well, ALMOST any time." Turning, I 
brushed past him in the doorway. 

His fist curled around my arm. Pulling me to him, he 
kissed me deeply. I responded eagerly, my groin 
rotating against his. His burgeoning tool awakened. He 
fondled my breasts. Taking a firm nipple in his lips, 
he slithered his hand through the slit in my dress. His 
fingers were stroking my clitoris. I gasped at the 
contact, shoving my hips against pressure of his hand. 
I moaned.

Moments later, I whispered, "We'd better go back."

As we walked into the game room, Leo dejectedly flipped 
his cards on the table and complained, "Okay, I'm out 
too. My luck's not holding."

It was time! I blurted, "Don't quit, Leo! Why don't you 
use ME as your prize chip?" When they asked what I 
meant, I smiled, "If Leo's beaten, the winner can go to 
bed with me." I said it like it was a joke, so that 
Bill could disapprove. Then, I could have backed out 
gracefully, without seeming to mean it.

I'm not sure it came across that way, though. The men 
were in a hilarious uproar, with hoots and shouts of 
"Whoa!" and "All RIGHT!"

I trembled a moment, wondering if I hadn't gone too 
far. I watched Bill carefully; he pursed his lips 
thoughtfully, then smiled, nodding his assent.

I'd sobered, adding, "I really mean it. The winner gets 
ME!"

Tom was standing beside me, at first in disbelief. He 
turned and strode to the table, saying, "Deal me back 
in!"

BILL'S STORY:

Tom looked away from Ellen, then at me and smirked, "Is 
this for real, Bill?"

I looked at each player and asked, "You guys really 
WANT it to be for real?"

They looked at each other, nodding affirmatively, as 
Tom spoke for all and grunted, "Yeah, we do." Turning 
to them, he asked, "Right?"

Paul said, slowly, "Absolutely."

Leo added, "Right."

I grinned, "Then it's for real." I turned to Tom and 
inquired, "Think you've known me long enough to trust 
my word?

Tom knew. He was the only other man besides myself who 
was still living from the goon patrol. He works for me 
as a client liaison, and he'd worked for me when we 
first met in the marines.

It was thirteen years ago this month when Tom was 
pointing out that we'd seen more men die than either of 
us could ever know as friends. It was our third day 
back in the States. We were sitting in a dimly lit San 
Francisco bar in neatly pressed uniforms talking about 
Mojo, Franklin, and Reid who were the best memories 
we'd have from the hell ground we'd kissed good-bye the 
week before.

A dark haired, bearded young man was sitting two stools 
away and talking to another hippie between him and us. 
The man glanced around his friend's shoulder toward us 
and said to his clone, "Fucking soldiers are running 
down the neighborhood."

His clone turned to look at us, adjusted his purple 
glasses, lit up a joint, and told him, "Lay off, 
Louie."

Figuring his friend was offering him good advice, I 
ignored them; but Tom turned to the clone, who seemed 
the most reasonable, and asked, "You a conscientious 
objector?"

He responded, as if with sadness, "Yes."

Tom nodded sympathetically, "I understand." Tom wasn't 
lying; he'd left seminary school from where he'd hoped 
one day to be a Catholic priest. He'd joined the 
marines and spent the next four years worrying about 
losing his soul. Tom turned to the other man and asked, 
"And you?"

The surlier hippie clanked his beer against the counter 
in a show of irritation. Wiping his heavy paws across a 
bright yellow shirt emblazoned with a large blue star 
on his chest, he smirked, "Student deferment." He spit 
on the floor, ignoring the angry retort from the bar 
tender. I looked straight ahead, across the bar, and 
told Tom, "Tell him to fuck off and forget it."

A TV set above the bar glared. The TV commentator was 
intoning about a greenhorn lieutenant and his squad 
who'd gone hyper in Vietnam and wasted the better half 
of a village we'd never heard of.

So Yellow Shirt glanced away from the set and growled, 
"Were you two with those My Lai baby killers?"

I shouldn't have said anything, but I pulled on my beer 
and explained heatedly, "He was Army! We're Marines!" I 
felt an immediate twinge of guilt about implying the 
army was incompetent; it had been the army's 
helicopters and the army's green berets who pulled Tom, 
me and three other reconnaissance marines from a hell 
hole where we officially shouldn't have been but had 
been sent anyway. 

We'd been on the run for a dozen days and nights from 
an unrelenting enemy who probably thought we were fifty 
or more men instead of just five scared marines, three 
of whom wouldn't live to celebrate their twenty-third 
birthdays. We'd slept in short shifts with 
thunderstorms arriving on the hour and pesky snakes 
crawling through our mud-soaked sleeping bags.  

I was suffering from a fractured wrist, influenza, 
diarrhea, and a festering cut to the groin from 
crawling through a quarter mile of jagged riverside 
rocks. And, as if the jungle gods hadn't done enough, I 
was stumbling along half-blind with a three-day 
migraine. Yet because, I was to be checked into a 
hospital for two weeks, I was to be the luckiest of the 
five. 

I was scared out of my wits from the first night's 
rumble of mortar fire to the moment the flock of army 
choppers and the berets cleared the jungle and whisked 
us away.

I was remembering all that while this loudmouth was 
asking if we were baby killers. I remembered it all.

As the helicopter turned south, a hulking green beret 
grinned down at our six-foot-four superstar, Mojo, and 
asked, "How'd you guys keep going?"

Mojo turned his determined black face to the beret and 
said simply, "Semper Fi, baby."

A week later, a red-eyed sergeant who'd been leading 
Mojo's new team strode down the double line of hospital 
beds to mine. He had bad news. They'd just plucked the 
two dozen pieces of Mojo's body from the stale waters 
of a rotting rice paddy. His remains were in a black 
body bag, folded inside an ice chest on the hospital's 
west end. Nervously gesturing his thumb over his 
shoulder, the sergeant added, "Near the noncom's dining 
hall." And, by the way, how would I fucking like to 
visit what was left of Mojo?

The next two hours, I was chewing pages from the Time 
Magazine I'd been reading. I spat out paper balls I was 
imagining were bullets aimed at everyone I could blame 
for us been sent to that hell hole. Then I remembered. 
It was me. And Mojo. Nobody had forced us to volunteer. 

Mojo's last fond memory was having learned the green 
beret talking to him in the helicopter had been a pro 
football player for Mojo's hometown team. The beret's 
reserve unit had pulled the unlucky number and was 
called to Vietnam. The sergeant had told me Mojo had 
been talking about the beret and his team that morning 
Mojo was killed.

Two months later, I was assigned to a fresh recon team. 
It didn't get any better.

So I pushed away from the bar but was too late. Tom had 
already walked around the man who said he was c.o. and 
gripped the throat of Yellow Shirt whose legs were now 
dangling inches above the marbled floor. His arms were 
flailing. Tom was yelling at him, " A student 
DEFERMENT! You're a DRAFT dodger!"

I told myself this was why Tom shouldn't have been a 
priest anyway. Turning to Tom, I said, "Forget it. This 
piece of shit isn't fucking worth this."

Tom murmured, "Guess not." He released his grip. Yellow 
Shirt thumped to the floor. The man sat there in his 
bell bottom jeans, his peace symbol dangling from a 
silver chain. Choking, he coughed out obscenities about 
the brutality of mother-fucking, baby-killing bullies.

Grinning, I turned to Tom, swallowed the last of the 
beer, and scratched my forehead. I asked him, 
cynically, "So, you proud of yourself?"

Tom's face reddened as he said, "Guess not." Turning to 
the conscientious objector, but not to the man on the 
floor, he apologized, "Sorry. And I mean it." He 
dropped ten dollars on the counter and told the 
bartender, "Keep the change."  

The bartender swooped it up, leaned over the counter, 
and shoved the bills back into Tom's pocket, saying, 
"Gy-renes, you got a free beer here anytime you want 
it." The bar man told Yellow Shirt to get the fuck out 
of his bar and not to come back.

So here we were across the country, light years later, 
sitting across a card table. Playing for my wife as the 
prize.

Assured that Ellen and I were serious, they played 
furiously. Their attitudes had changed to a determined 
lust. Now and then, Leo, Paul and Tom looked toward 
Ellen who was sitting on the couch. 

She looked fearful. She squirmed each time one of us 
dragged the pool of chips across the table, like she 
was trying to determine who would win. Once, her body 
shuddered, her hips involuntarily thrusting in 
excitation.

I didn't know who was the most eager, her or them. Or 
me.

I lost purposely. No one noticed when I didn't show my 
hand. To hurry the game along, the remaining players 
drew for the highest card. Paul won.

They breathed heavily, leering at Ellen. Wide-eyed and 
trembling, she walked to the staircase, looking back at 
us in the dimness of the game room.

ELLEN'S STORY:

I had known from the beginning I'd have to involve all 
these men; otherwise, anyone of them could have talked. 
My voice quaking, I murmured, "I want you all. But 
Paul's the winner. He's first."

My knees were shaking as I took Paul by the hand. I 
turned once more to Bill like I hadn't made up my mind. 
My stomach was churning. Bill's eyes glinted beneath 
the chandelier. The long faces of Leo and Tom displayed 
disappointment, but they smiled. Paul and I turned for 
the stairs to our bedroom.

Paul's eyes are dark and brooding. Muscular and lean, 
his arms look like telephone poles, the fingers of his 
large hands like bananas. My body trembled as he closed 
the door, taking me in his arms. His hands fondled my 
soft breasts as I unzipped his gray slacks, stroking 
his stiffening manhood. My breasts heaved as he 
unbuttoned my blouse and untied my skirt. My clothes 
puddled to the floor.

I'd known Paul and his wife for two years. Perhaps that 
should have made me feel guilty, but somehow the 
thought heightened my desire for the sin. I unbuttoned 
his shirt, then pulled away his slacks. I knelt to 
worship the long engorged member curving up before me.

My fingers were shaking like leaves in the wind. I 
grasped his hips as my trembling lips enveloped his 
velvety manhood. As my lips slid along his length, my 
eyes rolled up to watch his face. He stared back, 
chewing his lower lip, his hands clasping my bobbing 
head. His hips thrust madly. His eyes glazed. 

I shivered with fright as he grasped my arms, lifting 
and pushing me back on the waterbed. My groin was 
thrusting in excitation toward his twitching tool. 
Hovering above me, he spread my legs. His tongue lathed 
my breasts, then traced a sensuous path down my 
stomach. My vagina quivered up to his mouth.

He guided his lengthy tool's broad head to my vagina. I 
wailed, realizing the others could hear me downstairs. 
I no longer cared. My shaved cunt closed tightly around 
his throbbing staff. My eyes widened as I stared down 
at the huge instrument sinking its full length. My hips 
rotated, my cuntal walls contracting and pulling his 
engorged length.

He thrust into me like a wild stallion fucking a young 
mare. My vaginal walls smoldered. I mewed with each 
entry. Closing my eyes, I locked my legs around his 
back. His hips were slapping against my hungry loins.

I shuddered. My straining vagina accepted each entry of 
his broad tool. My body lifted from the waterbed with 
each withdrawal. Paul's rod tunneled deeper. My mouth 
formed an "oh" as I moaned in thrilling ecstasy, my 
eyes opening widely to watch the instrument driving 
into me.

The door creaked open. Leo and Tom were standing nude 
in the doorway, their forms outlined by the dim 
lighting from the bathroom down the hall. Each walked 
to a separate side of our bed. My husband was leaning 
against the doorjamb, pumping his cock furiously.

BILL'S STORY:

When we opened the door, Paul turned to acknowledge us 
but continued fucking my wife. Ellen looked at Leo. Leo 
is about her height, heavyset but muscular, with the 
thick neck, shoulders, and arms of a weight-lifter, 
which is just what he is. Her hand reached out to 
stroke Leo's semi-tumescent member. She grasped Tom's 
soft cock, pulling it to her lips. 

As Tom's cock swelled to its full, hard length, it 
glistened beneath the dim stream of light filtering 
through the door. Leo's broad chest hovered above her 
as he suckled one of her nipples that were standing out 
like spikes. Her moans of pleasure were muffled by 
Tom's broad-beamed member fucking into her hungry 
mouth.

I wondered whether Ellen thought about these men being 
married to her closest friends. As for Leo, Tom, and 
Paul, I knew that at this point they didn't give a 
damn.

Paul was fucking my wife with a frenzy. She was pumping 
Tom's thick cock and mouthing Leo's full length. Paul 
shuddered, then groaned as he exploded.

Leo took his place. As Leo's body hammered between her 
splayed legs, her hips grinding and thrusting with his 
rhythm, the bedside telephone rang. I said, "Let the 
recorder answer it," but Ellen put a finger to her lips 
for us to quiet down and picked up the receiver. 
Ellen's lips ovaled in awe at the size of the cock 
ramming into her shaved pussy.

Leo hadn't missed a stroke. His broad member thrust 
deeper. Ellen's hips jerked at the onslaught. Her voice 
quaked softly as she answered into the telephone, 
"Hel...Hello-o-o-oh!"

It was her friend, Christine, who was telling her what 
a great movie she'd missed that night. Finally, 
Christine asked, "Are you all right? You sound a little 
strange." Whatever Ellen said in response, Christine 
laughed, "Oh! You're being fucked by BILL! WOW! Can I 
ever pick some great times to CALL! Look, I'll call 
back tomorrow night!" When Ellen told us about the 
conversation, we broke up in gales of laughter.

Leo, however, seemed oblivious to what had happened and 
kept thrusting into her. The mood returned as he began 
erupting his hot sperm. And then, Tom was pumping into 
her. Her ankles locked around his back. He murmured, 
"Oh, GOD!"

She told Tom, "I love you, Tom! I've always loved you! 
Oh, fuck me, Tom! FUCK me!" I didn't know whether she 
meant it or not, but for some overwhelming erotic 
reason, my cock expanded to enormous proportions as she 
was proclaiming her deep love for him.

She rolled until her legs were straddling him. Leaning 
over Paul's supine body, she brought him again to 
hardness. Her hand stroked Leo's cock.

ELLEN'S STORY:

The heated male flesh around me electrified my mind and 
body! I could feel our cosmic orgasms rolling up from 
the distance. A massive groan in unison surrounded me.

I was pumping Leo's cock furiously, relishing the feel 
of his soft outer skin that slipped over the hardness 
beneath. His purple veins bulged over the pale skin.

I curled my hand around Paul's member, pulling it to 
Leo's. I rolled one slippery shaft in a circular motion 
around the other as they closed their eyes to 
experience the fleshy veins of another man's tool jerk 
and throb in my hands.

I stared at the bulging shafts I was rubbing together. 
The cock-heads surged in excitation, glistening a deep 
crimson. Tom stared at the two cocks that were only 
inches from his face. Tom rode me savagely. I pulled 
Leo and Paul closer; the undersides of their shafts met 
from root to head. Softly grasping the upper half of 
each cock, I slid them together in lengthwise motions.

Raising my torso, I strained my lips to envelope the 
heads of both penises, my tongue lathing the walnut-
sized cock heads as I pressed them together at the 
roots. They groaned at the thrills rippling through 
their rubbery tools.

Electrical currents shimmied through my body. The 
feeling of two throbbing shafts in my hands and mouth, 
and another fucking into my fluttering vagina, drove me 
wild. Rolling my head, I screamed ecstatically.

Tom's tongue twined around mine. I pulled Leo's and 
Paul's lengthy rods into my mouth, rolling my tongue 
through the crevice between Tom's tongue and their 
shafts. Tom's body tensed. His cock twisted and slammed 
into my vagina with full force, plunging to the 
furthest reaches of my steaming cuntal walls. My 
clitoris pulsated in pre-orgasmic spasms with each 
savage entry.

My head was thrashing from side to side, my vision 
blurring from the sensual overdose of multiple fucking. 
A fire storm was raging through me as I shivered 
helplessly beneath them, like the maiden prize of an 
ancient conquering army. My eyes rolled in excitation 
as I felt the throb of an expectant eruption.

In the dim light, I could see a large pale vein 
pulsating in Tom's temple as he drove relentlessly into 
me. My hips gyrated madly in passion. My hair flailed 
the warm night air. I shuddered wantonly, my groin 
rotating wildly. The searing heat of his rubbery staff 
flooded through me. My hands were still stroking Leo 
and Paul. Tom's broad tool painfully stretched my 
lubricated walls to the breaking point. My body 
throbbed in an explosive shower of mind-numbing 
pleasure as I thrashed beneath his hammering hips. 
Murmuring my desire, I radiated with passion.

I was insane with desire! I rolled, until my long legs 
were kneeling away from Tom, my backside to him. I 
released my grip from the other two men. My elbows 
braced my body against the headboard as Tom's hands 
grasped my hips; he entered my quivering pussy from the 
rear. I wailed when we were united. And strangely, it 
was as if no one else were in the room; just Tom and I. 
My passion smoldered.

His manhood throbbed within me. His swollen balls slap-
slap-slapped against my buttocks. Crazed with desire, I 
cried as he thrust into me. My hips rotated like a 
Ferris wheel gone mad. I fucked back against him like I 
was riding an untamed bronco. I breathed lustily, "Oh-
h-h! Fuck me! FUCK me, Tom!" Hot ecstatic coals had 
been poured into my vagina.

I turned my head to watch him, my eyes wide. He 
hammered his long instrument like a massive machine. My 
lips ovaled in wonder. I was a cosmic surfer, riding a 
celestial wave. When our eyes locked, we each 
recognized the mutual feeling - We loved fucking the 
other. We loved this adultery. We loved.

I relished the exquisite feeling of his huge cock 
slipping into me. As Tom's hips gyrated, twisting his 
manhood deep within, my cuntal walls irradiated in a 
passionate white heat. I was whimpering in delight.

I glanced to Bill who had groaned from the doorway. His 
nostrils flared. His eyes gleamed like those of a 
hungry coyote surveying his prey. Bill squinted, his 
lips parted, as he gripped his cock. He murmured 
savagely, "Oh, God-d-d-d!" The realization that my 
husband was about to come while watching his friends 
fuck his wife rocketed my desire into hyper-drive. Tom 
was now ramming his shaft into my cunt like a 
sledgehammer, his hard stomach flattening my buttocks 
each time he slammed into me from behind.

The other men, pumping their tools furiously, were 
slack-jawed. They stared in wonder at Tom's and my 
passionate union of orgiastic flesh. Tom was still lost 
in the lusty vortex, oblivious to the others.

Then it began. The thunder of cosmic orgasm was rolling 
up from lust's distant mountains in lightning-laden 
clouds. The breadth of Tom's manhood was now expanding 
monstrously like the explosive upsurge of a volcano 
about to burst. We shared an ecstatic sigh. I was 
sobbing like I was about to die. 


As I realized Tom was about to come, I moaned, "Oh, 
GOD, YESSSS!" I writhed in ecstasy as his thrilling 
tempo increased and cried, "Oh DO it to me, Tom! I'm so 
fucking hot, I don't know what to DO! Fuck me, Tom! 
FUCK MEEEE!"

I sobbed, staring straight ahead at the headboard as he 
rammed into me from behind. Warm tears of joy streaked 
across my face like tropical rain on the windshield of 
a speeding jetliner. The salty liquid spread through my 
mouth as I moaned, "Oh God, Tom! I'm going to COME! I'm 
going to COME WITH YOU! Oh God! It's so fucking 
AWESOME!"

And now, it was happening! Oh God help me! The tidal 
wave was upon us. I shuddered, my body on fire with the 
cosmic power of our orgasmic flood! We wailed in 
unison. The lightning thunder clapped. A million stars 
burst throughout the room.

Tom's hot semen burst through my waiting channel. I 
screamed as his lengthy member erupted molten lava 
through my steaming cuntal walls. My arms enwrapped the 
shuddering torsos of the men kneeling on each side. I 
was sobbing with passion, my tears flowing in torrents.

I throbbed in a sensation of dying in rapture. My mind 
was separated from my body as if my eyes were looking 
down from the ceiling upon Tom's body fucking his 
climactic crescendo into my cunt from the rear. The 
vision of overwhelming passion was playing out before 
me like I was a spirit watching from a cloud. 

I knew I was dying but no longer cared. I reached for 
Tom's shaft as it was about to explode, my mouth 
pulling its surging cream from deep within his balls. 
He collapsed on the bed, his body jerking as he groaned 
mightily.

At the final moment, as I screamed in abandon, Leo 
rammed his broad, steaming cock into my wide open 
mouth. My lips clamped upon it as my trusting tongue 
gripped the underside of his cock. I was swallowing his 
warm sperm as it spurted through the walls of my mouth. 
My mind was spinning in rapturous torrents, capturing 
the lusty thoughts of every man in the room.

The final orgasm rippled electrically through my cunt 
in a massive explosion. I imagined a skyscraper 
collapsing into rubble. My body was shuddering like 
leaves in a hurricane.

After we'd fluttered to earth, we showered. I was 
lathered and rinsed by the four men until my skin 
squeaked. We returned to the bedroom. I collapsed face 
down on the waterbed. The others lay across my body. We 
drifted asleep but were awakened an hour later by the 
alarm Bill had set on the headboard. Leo took the final 
ten minutes before they had to leave; I guess he wanted 
to prove he was the ultimate stud. 

Leo rolled me above him until I was straddling his 
hips, then fucked me twice more. It wasn't that erotic; 
the other men were laughing and muttering, "Come off 
it, Leo!" and "You think you're a teenager again?" I 
gladly took all he could give. It had been the greatest 
night of my life.

Bill and I still relive that night in the privacy of 
our bedroom, but for reasons too numerous to tell here, 
its history wasn't repeated. The rapport and friendship 
established with these men in a non-sexual way was 
amazing to me. Occasionally in a social situation, a 
coded remark is dropped by one of them with a wink. 
Their wives and other friends are unaware of the 
meanings of these remarks. And not one of them would 
dare offend Bill by suggesting to me that we get 
together on the side.

	 	 
CHAPTER 6: Brother

ELLEN'S STORY:

I hadn't realized why I was frequently attracted to 
younger men until my brother Roger visited us for three 
days last November. 

Although I don't dwell upon the past, I cannot help 
remembering now and then the tragedy of our youth. 
Roger was just a year younger than me when we learned 
our parents were killed in an air accident; the 
incident was particularly newsworthy because of the 
spectacularly horrible way in which the airliner had 
plowed through a Southern California neighborhood. 
Television and newspaper coverage kept the awful 
circumstances before our eyes for days thereafter.

We were alone in our home for three days, awaiting our 
aunt and uncle from Central Ohio to come for us. I was 
to live with them only a year before leaving to accept 
a job in another city; Roger stayed with them through 
four years of college and R.O.T.C., after which he 
joined the Army. He's now a paratrooper.

While we awaited my aunt and uncle who were driving 
cross country because they were afraid of flying, my 
brother and I were each emotionally vulnerable. Adult 
family friends visited daily, bringing us food and 
trying to keep our minds occupied with thoughts of the 
future, not the past or present.

The night before my aunt and uncle arrived, after Roger 
had showered, I heard him sobbing. He was still in the 
bathroom. I was nude, two rooms away in my closet, 
looking through a line of clothes for my pajamas. I 
gave up on the pj's, tugged my terry robe from a 
hanger, and tied it about me as I walked to the bath. 

The door was ajar. I pushed it open to find Roger, 
leaning over a sink as he splashed water in his face to 
clear his tears. Having just toweled off, his black 
hair was mussed and glistening.

A dark blue towel was wrapped around his lower torso. 
His eyes were reddened as he looked up at my mirrored 
reflection and murmured, "I don't think I can take it 
anymore."

Although he's now three inches taller, at that time 
Roger and I were the same height. I hugged him to me. 
Our bodies pressed together as I rocked his head on my 
shoulder.

He seemed dazed by the emotional storm. He shuddered as 
he whimpered, "I don't want to stay in my room alone! 
Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" 

I led him by the hand to my room. Preoccupied with 
despair, he hadn't seemed to notice that his towel had 
fallen away as we entered my bedroom door. I averted my 
eyes from his smooth, nude body and invitingly patted 
the pillow alongside me on my small bed. I turned off 
the lamp, then billowed the thin white sheet over us as 
he crawled in beside me. He held me agonizingly like he 
was afraid he'd fall into some abyss as he lay quietly 
in the darkness. Like me, Roger was slender and long-
limbed, his body as firm as mine from swimming and 
playing softball; we made a good fit, I'd thought as 
our arms twined around the other's neck.

I smiled when he was finally slumbering, his cheek 
laying over mine. Just minutes later, I fell asleep. 

Sometime in the early morning hours, I awoke. My robe 
was open from the shoulders, exposing my warm 
nakedness. Roger, as always, snored lightly. My body 
was pressed to his nudity from our stomachs down to our 
legs. His body felt feverish. His hands were curled 
beneath his chin, his elbow resting between my breasts. 

Although I couldn't see his young penis which had 
swelled as he slept, I could feel its broad and lengthy 
firmness bulging between the vee of my legs. The 
pressure against my vagina had awakened me. Although I 
knew I shouldn't be feeling this way, I was electrified 
with the sexuality of my brother's naked flesh against 
mine. 

I started to push him away until I remembered his 
crying. Not wishing to awaken him, I lay that way for 
hours. Unmentionable images were running through my 
mind. His manhood burgeoned as his body twitched in 
sleep-induced dreams, causing me to shudder as it now 
and then slid ever so slightly through my legs and the 
furrows of my virgin womanhood. It was torture and it 
was pleasure. I didn't want to remain in that agonizing 
position, yet didn't want to move. 

His head twisted to rest on my right breast, his lips 
brushing the nipple. He slept on. His mouth opened 
slightly, nursing a breast as if his dreams had 
returned him to infancy. 

His tongue and lips worked over by breast with soft 
slurping sounds. His hips moved about, causing his 
penis to wriggle against my vagina. My hand, trapped 
beneath his head, cupped the back of his neck. I was 
fighting an urge to pull him even closer. 

I was going out of my mind with desire; but the 
knowledge that to do so was wrong prevented me from 
responding. Eventually, the will power I'd mustered to 
pretend I was unaffected left me exhausted. I fell 
again into a deep slumber. For the rest of the night, I 
dreamed of a faceless man lying alongside me in the 
darkness as the two of us fondled the other.

In the morning, we awoke to the jangling of the alarm 
clock perched on the headboard above me. I folded my 
arm behind me, afraid to touch him. Roger's face was 
pressing warmly into my tender breast. His lips 
enveloped the firmness of my excited nipple. His eyes 
fluttered open, rolling up to meet mine. Only slightly 
awakened, he glanced to the inviting breast before him 
and rolled back to the pillow. I couldn't have admitted 
that I didn't want him to stop nursing my pulsating 
nipple. 

The erotic dreams had left me in a state of hyper-
excitement. Except for my reaching to shut off the 
alarm, I hadn't moved. The room was dim, still an hour 
away from sunrise. Roger's manhood was even more 
aroused, its bulging base now throbbing against my 
clitoris. He looked shocked for a fleeting moment, then 
pretended nothing was wrong. 

We stared at the other, both in a state of half-sleep. 
I could no longer control my frenzied body; my small 
hips hunched slowly back and forth, massaging my 
clitoris over the lengthy curvature of his hardness. 
Our eyes closed. His elbow slid away from the young 
fullness of my breasts, his hands gently cupping and 
stroking the mounds. My nipples jutted out in 
excitation, bouncing beneath his touch.

I slowly became aware of my arm I'd folded behind me; 
my dangling hand was touching his hard penis that 
extended just beyond the back of my legs. My fingers 
were drawn to it, stroking the tip. The manipulations 
caused it to pulse and jitter, further arousing my 
stimulated body. 

Raising my leg slightly, I bent my knee forward to rest 
on Roger's hip. My slender hand encompassed his 
monstrous member through the back of my legs. I gently 
pulled his young manhood's outer skin. 

Although I'd had no such experience before, I knew just 
what to do. Just a month before, I'd crawled to the 
backyard shed's roof to watch the stars. As I was 
laying flat on my back, my hands folded beneath my 
neck, I glanced toward a barely perceptible movement 
coming from Roger's lighted window. Roger was standing 
alongside his bed, his hand pumping against his groin. 
I'd sat up, bracing my elbow against the slant of the 
roof, and peered down to his window. 

And I knew immediately! He was MASTURBATING! Although 
the fascinating vision held no sensuality for me at the 
time, I was enthralled! I remember grinning as I 
watched; it was just all so INTERESTING!

And now, yes, in my sleepy turmoil, I knew just what to 
do. With my hand around my leg to my back, I was 
masturbating him! I remember my fearful surprise as I 
learned the skin seemed so thin against the pulsating 
muscle beneath. My fist was trembling like a leaf on 
our backyard maple tree fluttering in the wind.

I shivered in the intoxication of the moment, feeling 
his manhood coated with my own heated vaginal oils. It 
was all so new to me! Our first sexual excitement was 
mounting in a tempestuous storm! His eyes opened a 
moment, then closed again. He moved in and out of my 
legs, and all the time stroking my heaving breasts. We 
gasped. His manhood wrested through my fingers. As I 
moved my palpitating hips to and fro, I pressed my 
clitoris madly firmly to his throbbing hardness.

He arched his back, his lips pulling on my nipple, and 
moaned. My breath hissed out like steam from a 
radiator. His body tensed, his arms tightening about 
me. He shuddered and groaned as my sensitive furrows 
sensed his orgasmic fluid rocketing through his 
manhood. The soft, warm liquid splashed through my 
hand, onto the back of my legs. I squealed, grasping 
his penis firmly. Our bodies shimmied as his teeth bit 
into my nipple, the pain causing tears to pool in my 
eyes.

Our eyes snapped open in unison, fully awakened, 
realizing what we were doing; then, his face reddened. 
Each of us trembled, slowly pulling the sheet back. The 
robe was still open to my sides, my naked flesh pressed 
to his feverish and shuddering nudity. Roger puddled 
the sheet to the floor behind him. 

He pulled away from me slowly. His manhood seemed 
interminably long and as it glided moistly through my 
legs. An electric shock rippled through me. I didn't 
close my robe as he rose to a sitting position, then 
stood, turning to stare down at my breasts and the 
curling mass of soft hair covering my pulsing groin. I 
rubbed the wetness on my hand against the pillow. My 
full lips parted in disbelief at what we'd done; yet, 
in my frenzied state, I kept pushing it to the back of 
my mind. 

I was fascinated by his jutting length and the 
thickness of his black pubic hair. The purplish red tip 
glistened in the pale morning light; the bulging veins 
that ran the length of his excited rod throbbed, 
enhancing the erotic thunderstorm that was rumbling 
through me. My lips trembled. My face glowed red. I was 
unable to tear my eyes away from his member, bobbing 
and pointing toward ME! I'd wanted to reach out and 
pull on it again; but now, fully awake, I restrained my 
urge. His gaze roamed my quaking body. 

Although I couldn't have admitted it, my hips were 
rolling and thrusting like I was inviting him back to 
the bed! My face burned in a shameless blush. 

He controlled himself, now feigning disinterest, as if 
it hadn't occurred. Lifting his towel from the floor at 
the doorway, he mumbled, "Want corn flakes for 
breakfast?" 

Licking the fullness of my pale dry lips, I glanced to 
his pole pushing the towel out from his groin. I rolled 
on my back, feeling the puddle of his warm creamy 
liquid spreading beneath me. Closing and tying the 
robe, I went along with the charade, rose from the bed, 
and said, "Sure, I'll fix it." The image of his 
hardness, thrusting from the thick pubic hair, flitted 
through my mind the entire morning.

And the incident was never mentioned between us again. 
Until a month ago, when Roger visited us.

BILL'S STORY: 

I'd always liked Ellen's brother. He seemed to be the 
perfect soldier, like he was married to the Army. As 
handsome as Ellen is beautiful, Roger looks like he 
stepped from a recruiting poster - short black hair, 
athletic, poised, with a countenance of calm 
thoughtfulness.

Although I could understand his love for the military, 
I hadn't cared as much for the Marines, even after 
giving the corps nine years of my life before leaving 
for civilian life to practice engineering. Now, I think 
better of it in retrospect because I tend to remember 
only the good parts. 

Roger, though, seems to live for nothing except the 
next jump from an airplane, the ten-mile runs, and all 
the unquestioned regimen that had once irritated the 
hell out of me. Like Ellen, he never swears, doesn't 
smoke, and drinks nothing alcoholic but a couple of 
glasses a wine a month, maybe even less. He laughs 
easily, never complains, and never runs out of jokes. 
Yeah. Clean jokes.

Ellen of course had told me about the incident with her 
brother, which fascinated me. During his second night 
of his three-day visit with us, we were swimming in our 
backyard pool while Roger was out jogging. 

The moon's narrow sliver of gold hung in the black sky. 
The distant dining room's small window of light spilled 
across the trimmed lawn and onto the dark waters of the 
swimming pool, providing the only other illumination. 
Ellen swam to the pool ladder, grasped a rung, and 
said, "I think I know now why I'm often attracted to 
men a few years younger than me." It was out of the 
blue; we hadn't even been talking about Roger. 

I started to ask why but somehow knew exactly what she 
was thinking. I acknowledged, "Because of your 
brother." I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "Right?"

She nodded affirmatively and giggled, "Too weird for 
words, isn't it?" She clambered up the ladder, stripped 
off her swimsuit and lifted her beach robe from the 
pool deck.

I paddled back a couple of feet from the pool's rim, 
looked up at her as she was toweling off, and 
suggested, "Why don't you tell him?" 

She looked shocked, responding, "Oh, I couldn't!" 

I crawled from the pool and reached for the towel. 
Draping my suit alongside hers on the lawn chair to dry 
in the night air, I picked up the other robe, pushing 
my arms through its sleeves as I walked behind her 
through the darkened hedges and into the house. I 
cinched my robe and said, "Who knows? He could've been 
disturbed over the memory. Talking it out could solve 
some problems." 

Looking back, I don't really think I believed what I 
was saying, that the memory bothered her brother. He 
was one of the most well adjusted men I'd known. But I 
added, "I'm sure he hasn't forgotten it." Perhaps if 
I'd thought more about my deeper motives, I wouldn't 
have pursued the conversation, but eventually Ellen 
agreed that just bringing the subject up would be 
harmless. 

We were sitting in nothing but our robes at the kitchen 
bar, drinking tea while awaiting Roger to return from 
his nightly jog. Ellen thought over my suggestion, then 
turned from the bar stool, smiled with an agreeable 
nod, and walked toward the hallway.

I asked, "Where are you going?"

She returned a half minute later and said, "Just 
removed the towels from the bathroom." 

I was puzzled.

Just moments later, Roger knocked, opened the front 
door, and strode into the foyer. He was dressed in 
yellow running shorts and jogging shoes. A silver 
military chain dangled about his neck. He grinned, 
sweat running from his black hair down his face. He 
waved at us, and mumbled, "Going to the shower! Join 
you in a minute."

When he closed the door, I turned to Ellen and grinned 
in realization at what she'd done, "Okay. So he's going 
to have to ask for a towel, and you're going to take it 
to him."

She bit her lip, smiled, and acknowledged, "Uh-huh." My 
nostrils flared slightly at the fresh smell of a 
cologne she'd splashed on while she'd been in the 
hallway.

Just two minutes later, Roger was calling from the half 
opened door. Ellen pulled a couple of rose tinted 
towels from the closet and walked in, holding out a 
towel, draping the other over her arm.

I glanced down the hall to the bath mirror's reflection 
through the open door. He didn't cover himself as he 
dried off; Ellen was leaning against the sink and 
chatting with him as he ran an electric razor over his 
late-evening stubble. He wrapped the towel around his 
hips. 

They joined me at the kitchen bar. As they talked, they 
seemed detached and unconcerned with the out-of-place 
occurrence. She'd been casually talking to him while he 
was nude! I was amazed. 

I reached to the liquor cabinet and retrieved a 
spectacular potion I'd intermixed for special 
occasions, a third-quart of grain alcohol with white 
wine, the taste disguised by a couple of drops of tobo 
oil as I'd learned while stationed in Turkey. 

I pulled 3 wine glasses from our cupboard and poured; 
and although they kept insisting they'd drunk enough, I 
kept pouring their glasses full. And when we were later 
sitting in the floor and talking, my back to a wall and 
their backs against the couch, I rested my elbow on the 
coffee table and filled their glasses again. Although 
Ellen drinks very little, she knew that wine mixed with 
pure alcohol has a lightening-like, numbing effect; I 
found it interesting that she wasn't offering any 
comments other than just calling it "wine."

They'd lost count of the drinks. Roger stared blankly 
at the glass I'd just refilled and laughed, "No more! 
I'm drunk." 

I knew he wasn't kidding; I'd been sipping only a 
single glass of the potent potion and was more adept 
than either of them at holding liquor; yet I could feel 
electrical currents racing through me. The tobo oil 
would make it worse; it's like eating butter before 
drinking; you don't really know you're drunk when your 
stomach's coated with butter; then as the oil's 
absorbed, the full effect hits at once.

"Me too," Ellen giggled; but she took one more swallow, 
set the glass on the table, and waved toward the bottle 
negatively. She added, "That's IT for ME! My head will 
be the size of a basketball by morning." They thought 
about the image of a basketball balancing on Ellen's 
shoulders an instant, then burst out laughing in 
unison, each stone drunk for the first time in their 
lives.

I walked to the far side of the kitchen bar where I was 
just able to see their reflections in the mirrored 
wall. Folding my arms, I leaned my back against the 
refrigerator, watched, and listened. 

Ellen sighed, patting his hand across her bare legs 
that were jutting from her hip-length terry robe. She 
reminisced, "Earlier tonight, I was remembering 
something similar to this that once happened between 
us."

Her brother's eyes were glazed. He was having trouble 
comprehending their simple conversation and mumbled, 
"What's that?" 

She told him. He hesitated before answering, then 
nodded, saying, "I think about that night every once in 
a while."

Although Ellen hadn't noticed, her white beach robe had 
fallen open as she leaned forward, exposing generous 
proportions of her breasts and her slim stomach. Roger 
stole occasional glances at her semi-bared breasts as 
she breathed softly. From where Roger was sitting, he 
glimpsed the brownish circle of a nipple. 

She flattened the palm of his hand against her thigh; 
the tips of her fingers brushed his muscular arm. She 
asked, "What do you think about?" 

He described the incident just as Ellen had told me, 
stopping now and then in his recollection as if he kept 
forgetting his train of thought. And eventually he'd 
recalled it in great detail. The effect of the alcohol 
and the sensuality of the remembrance were having a 
noticeable effect on him.

Her senses dazed, Ellen hadn't noticed his engorged 
member pushing the soft towel around his hips toward 
the ceiling. She smiled softly, "That incident never 
caused me any misgivings. I just wanted to know if it 
had a lasting effect on you."

He looked sheepish, his forehead wrinkled slightly as 
the corners of his eyes sought hers. "I think of it in 
a fond way." Cautiously, he reached for another sip of 
wine and went on, "I probably shouldn't say this." He 
gulped the wine. "For years thereafter, I'd wanted it 
to happen again."

They were still chatting when I strolled back in the 
room but stopped talking as they looked up at my 
intrusion. Turning to Roger, Ellen said, "Oh, don't 
worry. Bill knows all about it. He gets excited every 
time I tell him the details." She could never have 
admitted that if she had been as cold sober as I was. 

They laughed when I nodded and said, grinning, "Most 
exciting thing I'd ever heard."

I rolled my tongue thoughtfully against the inside of 
my cheek and said, "I didn't really think of it as 
incest. I mean you didn't have intercourse."

They mumbled a few thoughts about my questionable 
concept, then half heartedly agreed.

I added, "It's possible to have sensual experiences 
which aren't incestuous." After they'd asked me to 
explain, I went on, "Well, for example. Suppose you 
were laying on your back." I gestured for Roger to lay 
back on the floor. He complied. 

Ellen's eyes were glazed as she stared down at his 
engorged penis, now raising the towel like a flag pole. 
Her lips parted in surprise, forming an oval, as she 
inhaled a wispy breath. She looked away with a slight 
jerk of her head like she was trying to clear her head 
of the alcohol-induced trance, then again turned to 
look at him.

I suggested that Ellen sit over his groin. Although 
intoxicated, she was reluctant; but as Roger also urged 
her on, she straddled him, her naked legs over the 
towel covering his hips. Somehow this created an 
immediate bond that even I could feel to form between 
them, as if I weren't even there. Ellen's eyes widened 
as she stared transfixed at her brother. 

His facial muscles twitched as he glanced down to where 
Ellen's robe parted slightly, exposing a portion of her 
shaved mound. This must have seemed a bit unreal to 
them, but anyone who's drunk will accept almost 
anything as normal. I waited as they looked at the 
other, breathing heavily. 

Ellen gulped, unable to look away from the rising 
protrusion of the towel covering his groin. She asked 
me, her voice trembling, "What now?" Roger's lips 
quivered. 

I reached to untie Ellen's robe, pulling it open. She 
looked at me questioningly, gasping as she started to 
re-tie the belt. Then, she hesitated, turning her gaze 
downward to Roger's innocent face. He nodded his 
assent; she returned the affirmative gesture, allowing 
the loose folds of her robe to remain open to her 
brother's full view. 

In his alcoholic stupor, her brother raised himself 
slightly on his elbows, blinking as he gazed to the 
fullness of her breasts and to her groin's smoothly 
shaved mound. Ellen's jaw sagged slightly, her stare 
affixed in awesome wonder on her brother's protruding 
towel. Roger again lay his back flat on the floor.

My tongue was thickened and dry. I could feel the 
erotic heat irradiating between them. The warmth of her 
body had allowed a faint wisp of cologne to drift 
through the room. 

I tugged at his towel that was separating them. Ellen 
accommodated me by wriggling slightly, allowing me to 
pull it away. Her bare thighs hovered an inch above his 
groin a moment as if she were still undecided. When he 
offered no response, she settled slowly down on him 
again. 

Each gasped in unison as their naked flesh slid 
together. She leaned forward and spread her fingers, 
bracing her hands against his chest. Her gaping robe 
hung just over her shoulders, down her sides, the way 
the white terry robe of her youth had exposed her 
nudity to her brother's eyes so many years before.

Her body jerked slightly at the close intimate contact 
of his long penis with the rim of her cuntal lips. 
Roger's length was impressive; his broad member 
twitched in excitation as the purplish tip brushed the 
curvature of her soft breast. Her hips moved just 
slightly, pushing her groin gently against his penis in 
an involuntary motion. But I'd noticed it, and so had 
Roger. He'd shuddered as her warm womanhood brushed 
against his pole. It was clear she was fighting an urge 
to move about.

I leaned back against the wall and waited. Deciding I 
may have already pushed this too far, I offered no 
further suggestions. But I didn't need to; the room's 
air was charged with the sexual electricity between 
them. 

And now, Ellen no longer asked me for instructions. Her 
thighs squeezed his hips, relaxed, and squeezed again. 
Rogers legs cautiously stroked her inner thighs, his 
hips rolling slightly, causing his lengthy cock to 
brush a wide swathe across her stomach.

Ellen's body was stilled but intense; but when he 
moaned, as if giving eager permission, she began moving 
her pussy lips back and forth, her sweet smelling 
lubricant coating his cock as it was pushed flat 
against his stomach with each movement of her hips. His 
blood-engorged member fit her smooth furrow like a ball 
in a socket as if they were made for each other. Of 
course; yes, I thought, they were! Each made for the 
other! I gulped my second glass of wine.

It was obvious her clitoris was now hyper-excited as 
her bald flesh slid over the broad pole, creating the 
necessary friction. The wine had taken its full toll, 
releasing all inhibitions. Her lips formed a circle, 
her body shivering. Immersed in lust, she moaned, 
"Annnhhhhh! Ooooohhhh!" Her groin pressed more firmly 
against his long cock and hairy stomach.

He groaned, "Oh, God, it feels...it feels GOOD! Ellen! 
Even better than I'd IMAGINED!"

I arose quietly and walked out of the room, lingering 
in the darkness of the hallway to watch the rest - of 
what I'd begun - to unfold. They were writhing together 
in slow, measured movements.

Ellen increased the tempo of her hips and whimpered, 
"UNGHHH! OOOHHH! Oh, YES, Roger! It feels GOOD! I don't 
want it to stop. It's making me so fucking horny, I 
don't know what to DO!"

Roger was now lifting his hips, matching each thrust as 
her aching cunt trapped his cock against his belly. Her 
pussy lips and clitoris slid down his cock's length 
each time he lifted his hips. She thrust her hips, 
moving her hot wet flesh back up its massive length.

"Oh, GOD!" Roger groaned. "I know I shouldn't be 
enjoying this! But I just can't HELP it!" 

I smiled, knowing there was no turning back for either 
of them.

Ellen whimpered, "Don't stop, brother." Tears pooled in 
her eyes, streaking her cheeks. She whispered lustily, 
"I love it too! Your COCK! It's so BIG! So HOT! I love 
it more than ANYTHING, Roger! I'll do anything you WANT 
if you'll just keep doing what you're doing!" 

In the hallway's darkness, I opened my robe. I began 
pumping my cock with a fury. With each forward thrust 
of Ellen's hips, Roger heaved his loins upward. Her 
excited groin wriggled as his cock slithered up the 
furrow of her eager, heated cunt. With each ebbing flow 
beneath her clitoris, she squealed in agonizing 
pleasure.

Ellen thought I'd left for the bedroom. She whispered 
to Roger, "Oh GOD! I can't believe what I'm FEELING! I 
can't believe what I want to ask you! I want you to 
fuck me, Roger! WOULD you? Would you FUCK your sister? 
WILL you?"

Inflamed with lust, Roger grasped her hips. He nodded 
in enthusiastic agreement. He breathed, "I'd love to. 
I'd LOVE to fuck you!"

She rolled away to lay on her back, her legs splayed. 
Her hips were grinding an euphoric invitation to fuck 
her. Her eyes were wide, her lips ovaled. She shivered 
fearfully like a trapped rabbit facing a predator as 
her brother's nude body hovered expectantly above her. 

His cock twitched, jutting out in a threatening 
gesture. His face took on a determined demeanor like 
that of a bombardier about to taste the fruits of a 
perfect mission. The massive poker poised to dive into 
the red hot coals of her depths that were now blazing 
like a furnace. 

He shuddered wantonly as Ellen's quivering fingers 
combed through his thick black patch of pubic hair. He 
murmured, "My balls are hard as rocks! I couldn't stop 
now if I wanted to. And I don't WANT to!" His comment 
was also a question, allowing her time to refuse, to 
push him away; yet I knew that neither of them could 
stop now. 

Ellen's reactions exceeded my expectations. Gazing at 
the long penis menacing her furry mound, she pleaded, 
"Oh, YES, brother! I WANT you to fuck me! I can't WAIT! 
I want you to fuck me so bad it hurts!" 

She quivered her cunt up. Grasping his throbbing tool 
with her small fist, she pulled it toward her vaginal 
lips. Ellen's raging passion caused her body to blush a 
flaming red. Now, his prick had grown to a particularly 
lusty state, reaching inches beyond the breadth of his 
sister's fist. She stroked his long hardness, then 
pulled it to the mouth of her trembling pussy. Upon 
contact with its tip, she squealed, "OOOOOHHHH! GOD!" 

Her long slender legs involuntarily wrapped around his 
hips; and then, as if her legs had a mind of their own, 
her legs tugged his loins toward her. His cock entered 
her tight muscle-rimmed opening as she writhed beneath 
him in unconcealed desire.

My heart was thumping like a sledgehammer. A hot breath 
escaped my lips. Ellen lifted her hips eagerly to his 
massive member. They shared a sigh. Their mutual 
pledges of sibling love sounded like a ceremony as 
their bodies were about to be united. Her cuntal folds 
enveloped the head of his prick, then slid around his 
tool as he entered her. 

He flinched and moaned as he forced inward. Her vaginal 
muscles fearfully contracted, then relaxed, allowing 
his cock to spread the mouth of her cunt still wider. 
She arched her back, grinding her hips against the 
softness of the carpet as her brother's tool slid 
snugly into place. 

Sobbing ecstatically, Ellen screamed, "Oh, Roger! 
You're KILLING me! I LOVE it! I love YOU! You're so 
fucking BIG! I can't STAND it! Do it! FUCK... FUCK 
MEEEEE!" 

There was nothing contradictory about her fevered 
pleas. Her brother was clearly huge, yet Ellen wouldn't 
have wanted him to stop. Her pain was replaced by 
unbelievable pleasure! She cried out in the heights of 
rapture known only to those who have tasted the white 
heat of forbidden pleasures.

I'd never seen anything like it! Ellen and Roger were 
boiling with lust. Their bodies thrashed against the 
other like hellish morsels in a bubbling cauldron. Her 
nipples were dark and swollen as her brother's mouth 
lathed her soft breasts. He was riding his sister with 
a fury. 

Bucking against his groin, she thrilled in their 
unspeakable taboo, a tumultuous sweetness they'd never 
known. Her hands ran up and down his torso. The 
inflamed yolks of her eyes were wild, rolling in wide 
circles as his tool skewered her steaming channel. Her 
eager cunt sucked in his lengthy member like a muscular 
hand milking a bloated udder.

Ellen's knees pressed against his body. Her gyrating 
groin was pliant and responsive, yielding to Roger's 
full lusty length. Transfixed at the long cock boring 
deeper into her cunt, she wiped the tears from her 
cheeks. Sobbing in erotic abandon, she whimpered, "Oh 
GOD, I'm so HAPPY! I want you to fuck me FOREVER!" 

She returned his ardor in full measure as his tool 
plowed on, throbbing through her cuntal walls like a 
resonating telephone pole.

"I will," he promised, his muscular hips ramming 
between her legs. 

He groaned. He was about to come! He was shoving his 
hips forward savagely, his cock slamming into her like 
a jackhammer.

Her body blushed as she accepted it eagerly; and, now, 
lost in a whirlpool of lust, Ellen wailed in ecstasy, 
"YIIIEEE!" Her head thrashed from side to side, her 
long hair flailing the air. She was returning his 
unbridled passion in full measure.

Ellen bucked ferociously against his ramming groin. She 
gasped, "Oh, Roger! DO it to me, Roger! I'm going to 
come! You're so BIG! And in so DEEP! Oh GOD! 
I'm...I'm..." She was biting her lower lip, a trickle 
of blood streaking down her cheek and neck. Her long 
legs stroked his muscular back. She enwrapped her arms 
about his neck as the soft fullness of her lips pressed 
against his. The blood from her lip was staining the 
carpet. 

As the orgasmic storm was about to overtake them, their 
tongues twined; their eyes closed to prepare their 
fevered minds and bodies for the fullest of pleasure.

And then it happened! Both shuddered and moaned amid 
the explosive force of her brother's fluids bursting 
through her molten channel. Ellen screamed like a 
banshee, "OOOHHH, JESUS!" She was coming savagely. She 
threw back her head with a long erotic wail, relishing 
his spurting cock throbbing within her; his warm lava 
erupted and cascaded through her depths for an eternity 
of a half-minute; her depths were overflowing with his 
endlessly gushing orgasm. 

Her toes pressed against the carpet like a ballerina's. 
She raised her hips, forcing her shuddering groin 
against his as the orgasmic after-shocks flooded 
through them. Her vaginal muscles were in rapturous 
spasm, milking every last drop from his ejaculating 
prick as her cunt pulled tightly on it again and again.

I was coming also, my knees buckling as I leaned 
against the wall, spurting into the robe.

They collapsed into a cuddle, his cock still in her 
tight depths. They grinded greedily against the other, 
fiery flesh against flesh. His lips crushed hers as 
each sibling hugged and stroked the other's pulsating 
nakedness. 

They remained like that until Ellen murmured, "If I 
were any fucking drunker, I'd be on another planet." 
They laughed uncontrollably, then quieted.

Ellen was staring into the deep blue pools of her 
brother's eyes. His jaw was slack, his mouth dry. He 
grasped his glass of wine from the coffee table, gulped 
half of it down, then touched the glass to his sister's 
lips. She drank it greedily, unwilling to allow the 
peak of their intoxication to slip away. He then 
reached for Ellen's half-full glass and repeated the 
ceremony.

They were completely stoned. After laying in unspoken 
adoration for several minutes, he arose. They stumbled 
toward the shower. As Ellen led him down the hallway, 
she was pulling his penis up and down in her small 
fist; it was softening but retaining its impressive 
length. 

They'd left the bathroom door ajar; I watched from the 
hallway's darkness, their bodies reflected in the broad 
mirror that faced the shower stall. They entered, 
closing the glass door. The pinkness of their flesh 
gleamed through the dim lighting as the shower spray 
hissed. Steam swirled about their bodies. 

I could hear a conversation but was unable to determine 
what they were saying. She kneeled before him, her eyes 
rolling up to watch his face as she ravenously gulped 
his length in her mouth. The softness of her lips 
glided along his prick until his mammoth cock had risen 
to its full, excited state.

He cupped the fullness of her breasts, stroking her 
round softness. He pulled her to her feet, his tongue 
working its way down to her shaved cunt. He knelt 
before her as if in worship. His fingers stroked the 
smoothness of her mound as his tongue flicked against 
her clitoris. 

Her hips gyrated eagerly against his mouth as she 
tossed her head in wild abandon.

He stood, turning Ellen away from him, forcing her 
hands flat against the red tiled wall. 

Ellen leaned into the wall, turning her head to look 
behind her; she gazed down upon his broad swollen cock, 
the head of which glistened a dark wet purple. She 
spread her legs wide in eager expectation to accept his 
lengthy gift. Her lips trembled. She shuddered heavily, 
pushing her smooth, virgin-like cunt back against him 
in an eager, grinding motion. 

Her brother's eyes surveyed her perfect body, his hands 
sliding down her back and cupping her buttocks 
lovingly. Grasping her thigh with one hand and his 
massive cock with the other, he leaned forward, poising 
his weapon. She tensed fearfully as the tip made 
contact with the mouth of her swollen cuntal lips from 
the rear. 

He entered slowly at first; then with a sudden shove, 
he sheathed his broad sword to the hilt. The savage 
onslaught caused her mouth and eyes to open widely in 
surprise. They were like dancers as his thick rod 
savagely slithered into her blistering depths. 

His sister was sobbing, "Uh Huhhh! Uh Huhhh! Shove your 
brotherly cock deep into me, Roger! Fuck me! FUCK me 
like you LOVE me, Roger!"

With each barbarous thrust, her buttocks flattened 
against the hardness of his stomach. She moaned in 
joyful anguish as he worked through her depths. 
Whimpering, she twirled her fingers around her clitoris 
as she rotated her hips in fervid passion. She 
squealed, "Oh, GOD! I'm COMING! DO it, Roger! FUCK it, 
Roger! SHOVE it IN me, Roger! Oh, ROGER! FUCK MEEEEE!"

Ellen's back arched expectantly, then she shivered, her 
hands reaching behind her to grasp his hips as the 
orgasm throbbed through her. She sobbed, biting her 
lower lip, as tears rolled down her cheeks. She grasped 
the bulging base of his cock as it skewered through her 
creaming tunnel. 

Roger's jaw slackened. He increased his tempo, ramming 
his tool home with a vengeance. His body jerked as he 
muttered, "I'm coming, Ellen!" 

Ellen cried, "Oh YES!" as she pressed the nakedness of 
her quaking back against her brother's shuddering chest 
and stomach. She fucked her hips back and forth 
ecstatically and murmured, "I can FEEL it about to 
EXPLODE! OHHH YESSSS!"

He shuddered and groaned, lost in a tornado of passion.

Ellen's body spasmed as she leaned forward, bracing her 
body as her fingernails clawed at the walls. 

And then it happened! He exploded. She screamed at the 
sensation of his heated sperm, spurting like a mad 
volcano through her vaginal walls. She was crying, 
biting her shoulder in ecstasy.

Wiping her tears away, She mewed, "I loved it! I LOVED 
IT!" She turned, their arms twining like they had so 
many years before. And there they stood, beneath the 
warm spray of the streaming shower, their brotherly and 
sisterly flesh pressed together from head to toe. 

When their bodies parted, she grasped his tool, 
stroking it lovingly to milk the last of its warm cream 
flowing through him. He mouthed her breasts. 

Her nipples stood out like spikes as she smiled down on 
her little brother; she stroked the back of his head 
with her other hand, her fingers combing through his 
thick black hair. Her body trembling in after-shocks, 
she gyrated her satiated cunt against his muscular leg.

Breathing heavily, I leaned against the hallway wall, 
as exhausted as if I'd been through the same exercise. 
That had been one hell of a night.

You'd think this incident would have invited a repeat 
performance. It didn't, but I'd learned long ago that 
few things in life work out the way we think they 
should. 

But Ellen and Roger laugh about it now, admitting it 
couldn't have happened if they hadn't been drunk. 

Neither has ever been drunk again.


CHAPTER 7: Passion's Peak

A development company recently contracted Bill for an 
engineering consulting job in the Carolinas. I usually 
don't go with Bill on his business trips, but because 
he would be gone for 3 weeks, I accompanied him. The 
firm's architect, Fred, and his wife, Linda, who were 
leaving on vacation, let us stay in their home. 

We'd met them the previous evening, just before they 
drove to the airport. Fred insisted, "We don't mind you 
using our home. There isn't another house within a 
mile, so we're glad to have someone look after the 
property!" Fred's a personable, balding man in his 
forties. His wife, Linda, a secretary for a local 
banker, is in her late twenties, trim and attractive. 

Perched atop a high mountain, the home overlooks 
expanses of forested mountains and the distant town 
where Bill would be working. Even if we'd tried, we 
couldn't have found a hotel room with this exquisite a 
view. 

An hour after Bill had left for work the next morning, 
I awoke, lifting my robe from a chair. In my 
transparent nightgown, I walked to the kitchen. I 
heated a cup of diet hot chocolate, draped the robe 
over my lap and sat on the couch as I gazed out the 
broad window. The sun's crimson rays rippled through 
puffs of clouds, above a sea of fog extending almost to 
the mountain's peak. 

Hearing an engine humming up the winding unpaved road 
toward the home, I slipped on the crimson satin robe. I 
peered through the front door's glass. A blond, lean 
and muscular six footer, in a blue velvet blazer and 
white slacks, climbed from the jeep, reached for his 
briefcase, and strode toward the house. He knocked, 
then boomed, "Linda? Fred?" 

I tied the robe's belt, opened the door, and smiled, 
"I'm Ellen. Linda and Fred left on vacation. My husband 
and I their 'official' house-sitters."

Frustrated, he apologized, "Sorry. My name's Jack. I'm 
a vice president at the bank. Linda's my secretary. I 
was hoping I'd get here before they left. I'd told her 
that it would be a couple of months before I'd need 
some documents she's been working on at home. I 
received a call this morning from a bank customer that 
the deal's going through on Friday, so I hoped I'd 
catch Linda before she and Fred left." His voice was 
slow and modulated, a trace of a southern accent. He 
was, well...handsome.

"Come in," I offered. Closing the door behind him, I 
suggested, "Perhaps we can find the papers." He thanked 
me, and we located the papers within minutes on the 
architect's desk, alongside an electric typewriter.

He flipped through the file folder, saying, "Just like 
Linda! The work's finished. Letter perfect, research 
and all! She's the world's greatest secretary!"

"Nice compliment," I commented, glancing to his gold 
wedding band. I gestured to my half-filled cup, asking, 
"You like hot chocolate?"

Nodding affirmatively, he laughed, "I don't need to get 
to work so early anyway, since the work's finished." 

As we talked on the couch, I explained why Bill wasn't 
home. Jack's blue eyes grazed my body. I glanced to a 
mirror atop a bookcase, seeing that my robe was open, 
exposing a generous portion of my breasts through the 
transparent nightgown. Pretending I hadn't notice his 
stare, I walked to the kitchen to fill a pitcher of 
chocolate as a frightful drumbeat fluttered within my 
breast. I sat alongside him as I poured, my legs bent 
beneath me. 

I appraised Jack's perfectly healthy complexion, not 
tanned but palely reddish. His eyes glinted, gazing now 
and then to the robe's open neck. We fell silent. 
Trembling, I licked the dryness of my lips. His hand 
brushed mine. My lips parted as he leaned to kiss me. 
My arms encircled his neck as his lips crushed mine. I 
whimpered. His hands were now beneath the robe, 
caressing my heaving breasts. My nipples were standing 
out like spikes.

He stood, pressing my body to his, his long hardness 
throbbing against my groin and thigh.

The telephone rang! I pulled away, lifting the 
receiver, and gulped, "VanRyser's residence." Jack's 
lips had enveloped a firm, reddened nipple.

It was Bill. "I'm in a bind, Ellen. I need some records 
from a downtown law office, and the lawyers don't have 
a messenger. No one else is here. I was wondering if 
you could do it for me?"

My voice quaking, I responded, "Just tell me where and 
how." I started to say playfully that he could sure 
pick some great times to call me, but I didn't want 
Bill to think I was complaining about the favor he was 
requesting. Anyway I doubted that Jack would have 
believed me, had I told him I had my husband's 
approval. Hanging up, I suggested to Jack, "Are you 
free tonight?"

He was stunned, a bit nervous, so I lied, "Bill's 
leaving for Florida early this afternoon. I'm alone for 
the evening." 

He smiled. His wife was in Toronto for a club 
convention, he told me, adding, "What time?"

When I arrived at the developer's office, I told Bill 
what had happened. 

Nodding his approval, he grinned, "I'll be home an hour 
before Jack arrives."

At 7:30 that night, Bill was relaxing in a patio 
folding chair in the master bedroom's walk-in closet. I 
was sitting on the couch, attired in a white satin 
dress, slit to the thigh, pretending to read an 
Architect's Digest while I awaited Jack's arrival. I 
was too nervous to read. A feeling like fear grips my 
stomach when I feel aroused. My breath was huffing like 
a smokestack on a toy train. 

The doorbell clanged.

A 15-mile-an-hour wind was blowing through the foyer as 
I held the door open for Jack. At 5'8", I was only 4 
inches shorter than Jack, but the red western boots 
beneath his dress gray jeans added 2 inches to his tall 
figure. He stepped in from the darkness, kissing me as 
he pushed the door closed behind him. Handing me a 
bottle of champagne, he breathed, "You're beautiful." 

Smiling, I took his sheep-collared waist jacket, hung 
it in the entryway's closet, then turned on trembling 
knees to retrieve a couple of wine glasses. His blue 
western-style shirt was tailored like a glove. Handing 
him the frosted glass, I remarked, "You changed 
clothes." 

He nodded affirmatively. "Uh huh. Showered, shaved, et 
cetera. Had to do something to calm my nerves tonight." 

I'd clicked on the stereo and turned off all but the 
decorative red-bulbed dining room chandelier, bathing 
the room in a soft crimson glow. A slow melody was 
drifting from the room's four speakers. He beckoned me 
to dance.

My legs were shaking, my breasts heaving in desire. My 
slender body seemed particularly small and vulnerable 
as I leaned my head against his chest. Jack's fingers 
stroked my shoulder length black hair, his lips tracing 
a sinuous path down my neck as he fondled the soft 
fullness of my breasts. His manhood was growing in the 
tight slacks, throbbing against my groin and thigh, as 
his hips pressed mine. My trembling body was now as 
pliant as putty, my heart pounding so hard I couldn't 
breathe.

The song ended. I trembled as he swept me up to carry 
me down the long hallway to the master bedroom. Joyous 
tears pooled in my eyes. 

I'd forgotten Bill who was watching from the closet, 
only a dozen feet from the bed where I lay in the 
dimness. I moaned beneath the tall form standing above 
me. Jack removed my shoes, then my red satin belt, 
unwrapping the dress to find I wore nothing beneath. He 
was staring at my breasts, my stomach, my shaved mound, 
as he popped loose the snaps of his western shirt. His 
slacks slid down his hips. 

I gasped! His engorged manhood burst free, curving up 
more than a foot from a patch of thick dark hair. "Oh, 
my GOD!" I muttered, fearfully, my eyes wide. Although 
I was having second thoughts, I pulled his hips near. 
He knelt alongside the bed. My quivering lips parted. 
My mouth enwrapped his cock, gliding along the 
frightening length. 

My eyes rolled up to look at him. His eyes were glazed 
with lust as he disengaged and lay alongside me. 

I glanced to the closet door Bill had left ajar. Unable 
to see my husband, I knew he would now be feeling my 
own mad desire, pumping - as he always did while 
watching - his hardened cock in the closet's darkness. 

I closed my eyes, relishing Jack's gentle hands 
exploring the soft curves of my body. My nipples 
tingled as his lips closed around a hard, reddened 
spike. Impassioned fear churned within my stomach. I 
pursed my lips, hissing in desire, as his tongue 
twisted a winding path to my shaved mound. 

I thrust my hips to his face, grinding my cunt against 
his mouth, my heart pounding a wanton drumbeat as his 
tongue twirled over my clitoris. I wailed at the 
thrills rippling through me like an electric current 
coursing across a thunder-laden sky. Clasping my thighs 
around his ears, I dug my heels into his back as fiery 
explosions blossomed within my pussy. Tears of joy 
streaked along my cheeks like rivulets of rain on a 
jetliner's windows. 

I pulled him above me until his knees were straddling 
my breasts. He braced his arms against the headboard 
above me. My lips stretched widely as I took his 
rubbery monster in my mouth. My head bobbed as my 
tongue slurped along its length. 

Now, beyond lust, I was WORSHIPING this broad, purplish 
cock thrusting down the moistness of my throat. His 
instrument hammered into my mouth until my passion was 
unbearable. My voice muffled by his wide cock, I 
pleaded, "Mphhh! Please, Jack, I WANT you! I can't WAIT 
any longer!" 

My hips gyrated expectantly. My long legs now opened 
eagerly to accept his huge curving cock floating toward 
the lips of my vagina. I shivered. Realizing that his 
manhood was much longer and broader than any I'd ever 
encountered, I whimpered with fright as he pushed past 
my cuntal folds. 

He was splitting me apart! I screamed softly. Shocks 
rippled through my groin as he pressed on, my vaginal 
walls expanding incredibly for this giant tool. Yet I'd 
rather have died than have him stop now. Red coals of 
passion smoldered in my vagina. I loved every inch of 
this massive freight train slowly puffing into my 
smoking tunnel. 

Jack was clearly aware of the difficulty, although I 
was crying as much in pleasure as in pain. Finally, he 
was as far into my gushing depths as he could push. My 
pain disappeared, replaced by blinding rapture. He rode 
me with a fury, my cunt now burning in our forbidden 
fires. My legs enveloped his hardened torso, my shaved 
mound quivering up to match every steaming thrust. 

In the stunning thrills of fucking Jack, I'd forgotten 
Bill; but as I thrashed my head side to side, I 
glimpsed my husband's nude form step from the closet to 
watch Jack's magnificent weapon invading my quivering 
cunt. Logic and will abandoned me. I was far too lost 
in this hurricane of passion to acknowledge my husband 
by smiling at him as I normally would while he pumped 
his engorged cock. 

The emblazoned yolks of Jack's eyes rolled as he 
plunged into me. I opened my mouth widely as if this 
would somehow expand my cunt further to accept Jack's 
final inches. 

Bill jaw was sagging as he pumped his full length in a 
fury. Jack's body and mine pulsated with a radiance. 
Our explosion was imminent. Bill's intense stare told 
me that his mind and Jack's were now one.

I cried out as Jack's flames united with mine into a 
blazing inferno. We shuddered with each thrust, our 
eyes glazing, craving the ultimate gratification - 
release from this overwhelming passion. 

I mewed, "Oh, FUCK ME JACK! FUCK MEEEEE!" Raging tides 
of passion coursed through my body. Delirious, I 
screamed, "Oh! God help me, Jack! I LOVE you, Jack! I 
LO-O-O-O-VE YOU!" I loved him, loved in adultery, 
uniting in flesh that which was already in our minds 
and souls.

And then! OH GOD! It happened in a blinding flash! We 
were coming in thunderous waves. Our orgasms burst in a 
super-nova of pleasure, raging through my creaming 
cuntal walls. My mind was exploding with fiery 
fragments that spider-legged like a billion falling 
stars across the evening skies. 

Jack's lips grazed my breasts in the blissful after-
glow of our adultery, our arms entertained for an 
eternity of a half minute. As I fluttered to earth, I 
remembered Bill. 

I looked over Jack's shoulder. My husband had returned 
to the closet and closed the door. 

I smiled. Now, because of my unquenchable desire for 
the largest male member I'd ever known, my husband 
would have to remain there until morning. Jack would be 
mine for the night! Our journey into passion has just 
begun.

Jack forced me to turn. My knees sunk into the red 
satin sheets like coconuts into quicksand, my hands 
braced against the wall above our headboard. His large 
hands grasped my hips. The yolks of my eyes rolled 
madly as his massive member was entering my vagina from 
the rear. I moaned. My husband was now in the closet, 
hearing all but unable to see us. 

I turned to look back, awed by Jack's huge cock. My 
pursed lips formed an "oh" as I watched the instrument 
pushing deeply into my excitedly-lubricated cunt. I 
spread my knees ever wider as the length and breadth 
filled me. Sobbing in desire, I reached to caress his 
member behind me, my hand shaking. He slowly thrust 
into me until I was whimpering with pleasure, "I LOVE 
you, Jack! I LOVE YOU!" 

I sucked in my breath at the stunning sensations. I 
stared as he fucked into my depths, my lips parted in 
wonder. We shared a sigh. I couldn't tear my eyes from 
his cock, which was now bulging at its base, in an 
impending explosion, as he groaned, his hips rolling 
and shuddering. 

I gasped! Jack's firm manhood was expanding to an 
incredible size with the onrushing tidal wave of a 
massive orgasm. My clitoris fluttered unbearably as if 
to tell me we were to be coming together in a mind 
boggling finale! My back arched expectantly, my fingers 
digging into his hips behind me. I wailed, a long, 
modulated shriek of passion.

And then, we were exploding in rapture! Crying with 
wild abandon, I shivered like a tree in an earthquake. 
His warm semen burst through my channel, the creamy 
fluid splattering my inner walls, washing over his 
cock, which was now erupting with a volcanic flow of 
steaming lava. I was sobbing, spinning, in a thrilling 
roller coaster ride down pleasure's glowing corridor.

We fluttered back to earth, collapsing in 
gratification. His fingers stroked the small of my back 
as he whispered, "You're beautiful, you know."

"Thank you," I responded softly, turning to him. "So 
are you." I stroked his cock, now soft and pliable, 
glistening beneath the moonlight that filtered through 
the transparent drapes.

We showered in the orange glow of the bathroom's dim 
lighting. I was on my knees, pleasuring him with my 
lips until his magnificent manhood was curving up like 
a Turkish scepter. 

Pulling me to my feet, he forced my back to the red-
tiled wall, pushing my legs apart. I struggled half-
heartedly, even now afraid of his length and breadth, 
as the water pounded my face. Turning my head away from 
the shower's storm as he entered me, I shut my eyes, 
whimpering. My hands pressed against the shower walls 
in helpless abandon. Steam was rolling around the warm 
air of the shower like ocean spray in a Florida 
hurricane.

As I thrashed beneath him, I banged my head against the 
shower door, causing its glass to shudder. My cuntal 
muscles were in spasm from his godawful size! 

I loved him but feared him. "GOD!" I screamed as Jack's 
weapon slithered mercilessly through my depths, "Drive 
it INTO me, Jack! Your cock is KILLING me! FUCK me, 
Jack! Oh, GOD! You're splitting me APART!" I wrapped my 
legs around his hips, fucking back against him. He 
pressed my back to the floor as I cried out in passion. 
In the steam, his face was now unrecognizable, as if I 
were being fucked by an unknown lover in a warm fog. 

Our desire went into overdrive. I was a galactic 
surfer, riding the highest pleasure wave, washing 
across a cosmic sea to a splendored shore. Logic and 
will had now abandoned me amid a firestorm on a planet 
in a timeless universe. My clitoris shuddered. The 
planet's core was about to erupt.

And then! The glowing stars exploded in supernova. I 
was slipping through a long, shuddering tunnel in 
pleasurable darkness as I came, then came again, and 
again, and OH GOD, AGAIN, my mind shattering into 
gratified fragments.

Finally, at 4 a.m., I lay sleeping, a leg over his, an 
arm over his chest, until a movement stirred me. He 
slumbered. I stared down at his awesome cock. I 
worshiped it with my lips and tongue, then slept again, 
awakening with the morning sun rippling through the 
windows. Jack was gone. 

But Bill lay alongside me. Grinning. 

Jack visited three times a week until Bill's project 
was completed. I gave myself eagerly. Finally, two 
nights before we were to return to Florida, I told Jack 
about my husband's penchant for "watching." 

On our last night, the day before Thanksgiving, Jack, 
Bill, and I drank white wine as we watched a video in 
the family room. Jack sat alongside me on the floor, 
our backs against the couch, while Bill sat in a chair 
across the room. 

Jack pulled me to him. We removed the other's clothing. 
I straddled him, lowering my hips as his long cock 
submarined through my molten channel. Moaning, I was 
impaled on his staff. Electric thrills throbbed through 
my legs. Jack's smooth skin brushed the insides of my 
thighs as he fucked me.

Bill hovered above me, his arms braced on the couch. I 
unzipped his fly, pulling out his manhood. My lips 
glistened along Bill's length as Jack thrust his 
splendid tool through my steaming walls. 

I was thankful as the two men fucked me. Thankful, 
because I love Bill. I also love adultery. Thankful, 
because I don't have to choose between the two. 
Thankful that my depths had never been so filled. 

THE END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 65