I knocked on the door. My mouth was dry and I could feel a tenseness in my stomach. The knock sounded hollow and it seemed to reverberate in my ears.
I listened for some sounds beyond the door. Faintly I thought I could hear a baby crying and some muted sounds of voices. After a moment I could hear softly padding footsteps walking towards the door.
The door cracked open, and a flood of bright yellow light spilled out. There was a man standing in the center of the light, peering out at me.
"Hello!" he said. "You must be Allen."
"Yes," I answered. "Allen Dawson. You're Kenneth Hill?"
"Ken," he said. He shook my hand firmly, and pulled me into the house. "Call me Ken."
He shut the door behind me, and I found myself standing in the hallway of a clean-looking middle-class house. To my right there was a living room filled with heavy Spanish-looking furniture.
"Here," Ken said. "Let me take your coat."
He was a short man, about five six or seven. He was older than I, and I judged that he must have been about thirty-eight or nine. He had a round full face, cracked in the middle with a white-toothed smile, and his hair was receding. His middle was somewhat thickened with a paunch.
"Yvonne will be with us in a moment," he explained, taking my coat and hanging it in the hall closet. "The baby woke up and she's putting him back to sleep. Wouldn't you know it would happen tonight. Always something."
I found myself not answering, but he didn't seem to notice. His chatter was easy and flowing and natural, as if he were thoroughly relaxed and truly genial. I felt awkward and uncomfortable.
"Did you have any trouble finding the place?" he asked. He guided me into the living room with a gentle pressure of his hand on my shoulder.
"No, no," I said quickly; perhaps too quickly. I was grateful for a chance to say something. "No trouble at all. Your instructions were very explicit."
He chuckled warmly. "That comes through practice," he explained. "I've directed many people here."
"Oh," I commented, awkwardly.
"Say, Allen. How about a drink? What will you have?"
"Scotch. With ice."
He left me sitting on the living room couch and he turned towards a portable bar in a far corner of the room. As he walked away from me, I became aware of the way he was dressed. He had on an old, wrinkled sport shirt and a pair of gray slacks. His loafers clumped silently against the rug. I felt strangely overdressed in my suit and tie.
"Your first time?" he asked, bending his words over his shoulder towards me but not turning around. He clanked glasses and ice together.
"Yes," I confessed.
"Just relax. Take it easy. We won't bite. Not yet, anyhow!" He laughed at his small joke.
"Hell," he said. "Me and Yvonne have been doing this for nearly three years. You'll get used to it. Just relax and let yourself go; you'll enjoy yourself."
He brought the drinks over and handed me mine. I sipped it, immediately feeling the strong comfort of the alcohol sliding down into my stomach. I could feel myself relaxing.
Ken sat across from me in an over-stuffed arm chair with curved wooden arms. He sat with his legs crossed and he sipped his drink. It looked like orange juice.
"Are you married, Allen?" he asked. He was treating me as though I had just dropped over for dinner. His manner was casual and relaxed.
"Yes. But Patti – my wife… doesn't…"
"Some wives are like that," he helped. "Now take Yvonne. She's always liked sex. And it got worse as she got older. Instead of quieting down, she seemed to need it more and more. It was her idea to start swinging. I just couldn't satisfy her enough. She used to bleed me dry."
I could feel a stirring in my groin. The frankness of his conversation reawakened my imagination, and I recalled my reason for the visit. I could feel my prick growing hard and creeping up my thigh, pressed tightly against the crotch of my under shorts. I took another drink.
"Does she know you're here? Your wife, I mean."
"Well," I began. "Patti knows about the ads, but she's not living with me just now. She's visiting her sister in Smithtown. We've had some… marital problems." I felt strange confessing this to a total stranger.
"Sex problems?"
"Sort of." I could feel color flush in my cheeks.
"You should try to get her interested in swinging," Ken explained seriously. "It just might save your marriage. You would be surprised at the therapeutic effects of swapping-off every so often."
"I don't think…" I thought of Patti, but I couldn't imagine her screwing with some strange man. I tried to imagine her naked body under the swelling weight of Kenneth Hill's stomach. The scene was perversely exciting.
"You learn to appreciate your wife better," he continued. "You don't take her as much for granted. And you regain that lost spark of spontaneity in your marriage."
I knew I wouldn't even know how to ask Patti to join us. When things hadn't been working out for us, I remember how I threatened her with placing a sex ad. "Go ahead," she said. "Enjoy yourself. Just stay away from me."
"Well," someone said. The voice interrupted my reverie. It was a feminine voice.
I looked up and saw a woman entering the living room. She was younger than Kenneth Hill by at least ten years. She had long dark hair and a tall, somewhat thin body. Her shape was excellent, and she had a pair of firm, full breasts. She was wearing a printed blouse and a short blue mini skirt.
"Ah," said Hill, standing up. "We've been wondering where you were."
"I couldn't get him back to sleep," she explained. She looked at me, a full, searching look.
"Is this our guest for the night?" she said. Her lips were full and sensual, covered with a dully glistening film of wetness.
"Dear, this is Allen…"
"Dawson," I helped. "Allen Dawson. I spoke to you last week, you remember. About your ad."
She smiled and I could see her teeth. She licked her lips with her tongue. "Oh yes, I remember your call, Allen. I've been looking forward to meeting you."
There was an awkward silence, and I didn't know how to fill it. I still wasn't used to the situation and the frank honesty with which they were discussing it.
"I've been looking forward to meeting you, too," I said finally. I felt my face color at the same time that I felt my hard-on stretch another inch or two.
"Let me get you a drink, dear," Hill said to his wife. He got up and walked towards the bar. I could see the bulging trace of an erection poking through his pants as he walked. He made no effort to hide it. "Your usual?"
"Yes, dear," she answered. She walked fully into the room and joined me on the couch, sitting at the other end. I felt the swell of the cushion under her weight as she sat down, and I could smell the faintest trace of her perfume wafting across the small distance that separated us. For the first time I noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra, and I saw the pinched tips of her nipples scraping across the print pattern of the blouse.
"Why don't you take your jacket off and loosen your tie," she said.
I looked up from her breasts and saw that she was looking right at me. She smiled and I realized that she knew I had been staring at her breasts.
"Yeah." Hill echoed. "Make yourself at home." He handed his wife her drink and then sat back in his chair across from us, leaving us both together on the couch.
"Good idea," I feebly agreed but really didn't. I slid forward on the cushion and loosened my tie. Then awkwardly, I unbuttoned my jacket and slipped it off my arms. I tried not to stand for fear of revealing my erection. I folded the jacket in half and placed it on the couch beside me, between Yvonne and I, and it seemed to separate us like a wall. I unclipped my cuff links and rolled up my shirt sleeves.
"Are you married, Allen?" Yvonne asked.
I explained to her what I had told her husband.
"That's a shame. It's too bad we couldn't all get together. I'm sure Ken would really love to fuck your wife. She sounds perfectly lovely."
My balls stirred and my mouth grew dry. I pressed my lap upward slightly, feeling the tightening pleasure of my erection against the material of my pants. Pleasure flushed through my loins.
"That's Yvonne," Hill laughed. "She jumps right into the heart of the matter. No pussyfooting around where sex is involved."
"No," I said, "that's quite all right." I understood his explanation as a form of apology for his wife's bluntness. "I'm only sorry that it couldn't be that way."
"No need to apologize, Allen," she said. "Ken is very understanding. He enjoys it this way as well, don't you, dear?"
He laughed and blushed.
"Ken loves to see other men making love to me," she explained. She turned and looked at me. She held her drink in her hand, and as she leaned forward to place it on the table, the tips of her fingernails just barely brushed across the swell of her breast. It was a very erotic move, and I knew it had been no accident.
"We're really getting into this in a hurry, aren't we," Ken said. His voice was still genial and smiling, but I thought I could sense the faintest tremble of excitement in his tone. "Perhaps we should begin."
"Good idea," Yvonne said.
"Suits me," I echoed, just to say something. It was still strange, but the raw, unchecked sexuality that filled the room was beginning to affect me. I could feel myself becoming excited at the thought of making love to Yvonne.
"I'll set up the projector," Hill said. He got up and left the room. I could hear him walking somewhere towards the back of the house.
"Projector?" I asked. I looked at Yvonne.
"Home movies," she said. "Very special home movies."
She slid around and faced me at an angle. She placed her arm across the back of the couch, and rested her right breast against the back cushion. The orb flattened against the material, swelling fully and reminding me of a very ripe fruit. She slid her legs up so that one was crooked on the edge of the cushion, revealing a great expanse of whiteness of her inner thighs. The legs were parted slightly in an open invitation.
"We often take home movies of our… guests," she said.
My eyes followed up the gentle curve of her thighs, past the firm roundness until they were halted by the tautly stretched material of her skirt's hemline. But in between her legs, just below the hem, I could see the dark shadows of what lay above. Shadows that I would soon possess.
"I think you'll like these movies," she said. She stretched her legs, and ran her hand slowly up and down the exposed flesh of her thigh. I could feel perspiration running down my collar and I unbuttoned the top two buttons.
I agreed. "I have a feeling I'll enjoy the movies."
We were staring at each other, looking into each others' eyes. Her face was unmasked, and there was no way that I could misunderstand the burning glint that smoldered in her eyes. She licked her lips slowly, running her tongue sensually around the outer edge of her mouth.
Our visual communication was momentarily interrupted as Hill reentered the room. The smile was faded from his face and he seemed to be breathing harshly. Perspiration made the bald spot shine, and I noticed that his zipper was half-open. I couldn't be sure, but I suspect it had been closed when he left. His hard-on seemed larger, and it poked like a tent pole against his gray slacks.
"Have this set up in a moment," he said. He carried the screen into the room and placed it almost parallel to me. He struggled with it a moment before it opened.
My drink was still in my hand, almost completely untouched from the first sip. I brought the glass to my lips and swallowed the liquid. It splashed in my stomach in a single gulp, spreading additional warmth against the one that was already growing there.
The projector was assembled in a few more seconds, and Hill removed several rolls of film from a brown paper bag. The reels were numbered, and he stacked them neatly beside the projector.
"All set?" he asked. His voice cracked.
We mumbled that we were.
"Get the light, dear," he said to Yvonne.
She reached behind her and snapped the lamp twice until the light was out. I shut the lamp on my side also. The room was dark.
Hill switched the projector on, and a brilliant square of light cut through the darkness and filled the screen.
"I don't think you'll be able to see from there," Hill said to me. "Perhaps you better move down a bit… closer to my wife."
I lifted my coat and placed it on the other side of me. Then I began to slide across the softness of the couch, moving closer to Yvonne. I stopped when I was almost touching her, and I could feel the billowing presence of her body near me. She shifted slightly, touching me, and I felt a stab of electricity bolt through my body. Her perfume was in my nose and I inhaled it deeply. I sat back in the couch.
Hill thread the machine. It was self-loading so all he had to do was insert the lead of the film, and the projector did the rest. The air was filled with a mechanical clicking noise, and the solid square of light began to dance on and off.
A blurred image appeared on the screen. The image cleared, and I found myself staring at Yvonne Hill. She was sitting on the couch, but there was another man next to her. It wasn't her husband. He, I realized, must have taken the pictures.
The man was kissing her, and he had his open hand on her breast. In the picture she was wearing a sweater and another mini-skirt. The man's body was pressed across her top, and her legs were spread out stiffly in front of her. They were open slightly, and you could almost look up her skirt. The man's hand was vigorously massaging the tit through the sweater.
I felt Yvonne stir next to me. "Oh," she said, softly, and she pressed the fat part of her thigh against my leg. It was soft and warm, and she began to rub her leg up and down.
"That's Bevins," Hill explained. "Edward Bevins. I used to work with him."
I wondered whether he knew the names of all the men who had fucked his wife.
The scene began to change. Bevins' hand slipped under the sweater, and he began to massage the breast again. The sweater was pulled up partially, and I could see the curved swell of her left tit under his hand.
I looked across at Yvonne, but her eyes were on the screen. I could see her nipples standing erectly under her blouse, brushing back and forth against the material, almost as though Bevins' hand were still caressing her.
Kenneth Hill's eyes were also frozen upon the image of his wife and her lover. He had slipped his hand down the front of his pants. I watched with curiosity as he moved his hand up and down the length of his organ.
When I turned back to the screen, I saw that the image had altered once more. Bevins' hand had moved down from her breast, after he had thrown the sweater up and exposed her breasts, and now he had his hand cupped at her cunt. Her legs were opened widely to accommodate his hand, and I could see the pinched material of her dress pressed up against her body.
I felt a pressure on my thigh. I looked down and saw it was Yvonne's hand. She was rubbing it up and down against me, moving it closer and closer to my cock.
Her hand in the film mirrored her movement, and she grabbed onto Bevins. She clutched at his cock for a moment through his pants, and then I watched he;: fumble with his zipper. A moment later, she had loosened his organ. It was enormous: larger than any I have ever seen on any man. It must have been at least ten inches long. I watched in disbelief as she wrapped her hands around his shaft and began to slide her fingers up and down the cock, jerking him off.
I felt a hand touch my own cock. I looked across at her, but she was still staring at the screen, her eyes glazed with passion, and her mouth open. She was acting out her role with me in the place of Bevins!
My zipper opened, and she fumbled with my shorts until she pulled ray prick free. Her hands felt like fire against me: a hot, velvet fire. She squeezed the sides of my cock and began to rub it slowly.
"You're big," she said, whispering towards me.
I looked across at her husband. He had his own cock pulled free, and he was slowly pumping his hand against himself, staring at his wife on the screen. His prick was small; perhaps only five inches in length.
I looked back at the film just in time to see Bevins' hand slipping into the elastic band of her panties. Her skirt was thrown back, revealing her widely parted thighs. I watched the hand slide across her body, moving like a slow wave across her cunt, until it was cupped under her body. He was rotating the hand slowly against her, in a twisting, circular motion, masturbating her with the palm of his hand.
"Touch me," Yvonne said to me. "Put your hand, on my pussy."
Without hesitation, I did as I was told. I stretched my hand across my body and placed it squarely between her legs. I could feel the heat of her body through the dress, and she hunched her cunt up against my hand the moment I touched it. I began to masturbate her with my fingers.
"Under the skirt," she said. "Stick your finger in my cunt!"
I fumbled with her dress until I felt the cool roundness of her open thighs beneath my fingers. I was aware of her hand upon my prick, moving smoothly along the shaft, fucking me with her fingers. I slid my hand up her thigh until I touched her cunt. It was warm and furry, like a small, wet animal. I cupped her cunt, rubbing my hand against her flesh, through her wetness.
Someone moaned. I looked up and saw it was Hill. He had dropped his pants completely, and was naked from the waist down. He was looking at us and jerking himself off. His hand was a blur of motion against the sickly pale whiteness of his naked stomach. His organ seemed lost in his fist and his hand moved back and forth.
His watching me made me feel self-conscious for a moment, but the lure of her body was too much of a temptation. I pressed my hand against her, feeling the thickness of her mound and the heavy growth of hair that covered her there. I allowed my middle finger to slide through her slit, between the wetness of her inner lips. I could feel the warmth of her hole, drawing me like a magnet, oiling my fingers with the discharge of her cunt.
I saw her cunt on the screen before I saw it in person. Bevins had slipped her panties down her legs, and I could see them hanging from her like a crazy flag at half-mast. Her cunt was wide and full, and covered with the darkest, heaviest growth of pubic hair I had ever seen. It seemed to stretch from her ass, up between her legs, over the curve of her mound, and spread out from there in a wide vee, almost up to her navel. Bevins had his hand pressed against it, and I could see him sliding his middle finger in and out.
I looked across at her cunt and compared it with its picture on the film. If possible, the one that I was touching was fuller and heavier than the one in the film. Her hair was like a dark, tangled jungle.
I pushed my finger up, into her cunt. Yvonne moaned as I slipped my finger past her lips. I felt the burning heat of her insides sweltering around the shaft of my finger, wetting it. The passage was wide, well reamed. I could feel the walls of her cunt sucking against my finger, like a hot drain of swirling water. I pushed my finger in and out of her, feeling the muscles come together each time I withdrew and then push apart again as I pushed upward again. I moved my finger like a piston, in and out, in and out.
"NOW!" Hill said.
I looked across at him, thinking that he was cuming. But he wasn't, and I saw that he was giving his wife directions, urging her onward.
Yvonne moved on the screen the same way she moved next to me. She bent her body across mine, bending her top towards my loins. I stiffened as I realized what she was going to do to me. The same thing that she was doing to Bevins in the film.
I felt her mouth open, and her breath billowing upward against the flesh of my cock. I felt her tongue run across the top of my cock, wetting it with her saliva. She rubbed her lips against the side of the shaft, playing her tongue against me as she trailed it upward and down. Her breath was hot and her mouth was wet. She plunged down upon the shaft, taking me wholly into her mouth.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Hill was almost moaning. His back was arched, and his hand was still moving against his body, pounding away at his cock. The tip of his prick was bright red in color, and I could see the smallest trace of moisture bubbling at the opening.
Her lips tightened around my cock, and I could feel the pleasurable scrape of her teeth on the crown of my cock. Her tongue was moving against me, licking, rubbing, pushing and sucking my cock up into her mouth. She moved her head up and down on my organ, allowing me quick glimpses of the shaft as it slid in and out of her mouth. She moved upward rapidly until she had almost disengaged herself, and then she plummeted down again, moving slowly, sensually.
I looked up at the screen to see her doing the same thing to Bevins. But his organ was too large for her to swallow completely, and she only could manage about half of it. The rest, the unsucked part, she rubbed with her hands, jerking him off and sucking him at the same time.
I could feel my body tightening in the middle. I began to arch myself upward, pressing myself into her face. I put my hands around her head, guiding her movement and pushing her further down upon my trembling cock.
Yvonne slid completely from the couch and crawled in between my legs on her knees. I felt her fingers tugging at my pants, loosening the belt and working at the snap. A moment later she had my pants open, and she was sliding them down over my hips, pulling my underpants with them. I lifted my body, crushing my back against the couch, and allowed her to pull the pants down my legs. All the while she did this, she was working on my cock her mouth, moving it up and down, eating me with her lips.
My pants were down near my knees, and I could feel the cool caress of air against my nakedness. The coolness was exciting against my burning body. I could see the white tail of my shirt flapping obscenely against my naked legs, making me even more aware of my nakedness.
"That's it!" It was Hill again. "Suck on him! Suck his cock! Swallow it! Swallow his cum!"
His face was contorted with pleasure, and rivers of sweat ran across his jowled cheeks. With his free hand he was unbuttoning his shirt. Once his shirt was off he began to step out of his fallen pants. He was completely naked now.
"Fuck her, Allen!" he said to me. "Fuck my wife! Jam your cock up her cunt! Fuck her!"
Yvonne removed her lips from my joint. Her mouth was wet and slobbered with saliva, and my cock was heavily coated with a thick film of juice. Her saliva dribbled down the sides of the organ, making tiny puddles around the thick base and leaving bubbles of moisture dripping from the ends of my crotch hairs. The air felt cool and stimulating against my flesh, and I began to ache with the need to bury my organ again.
She obliged. She turned around so that her ass faced me. She lifted her dress and stepped backward and up, onto the pillows of the couch. With a leg on either side of my naked body, she began to bring herself down upon my erect cock. I felt the warmth of her pussy against its tip, and the tickling scrape of pubic hair.
"Hold me so I don't fall!" she instructed.
I grabbed her waist, pinching my fingers inward, and I guided her down upon me. I felt the tip slip easily into her wetness, and I felt the sweltering heat of her insides against my cock. She pushed herself downward, and I felt myself slide up into her body, pinning her with my erection. Her body was all around me, and I could feel the cool swelling underside of her ass pressed against my thighs. My legs were together, and she was sitting on my middle, with a leg dangling from either side.
"Wait! Wait!" said Hill. He moved across the room in our direction. His hand was finally away from his prick, and it stood away from his body like a rigid finger poking from his belly. His crotch was almost hairless.
I twisted my head to see what he was doing. He stood before his wife and wriggled his erection in her face. She bent forward and placed him between her lips. I could feel her weight shifting, pulling inside, moving against my cock. As she bent her head to suck him, beyond her, I could see the screen. In the film she was fucking with Bevins as she was fucking with me: straddled across his lap with his cock somehow buried up to the hilt. The only difference was that Hill was not in the film. He was here, in reality.
Yvonne stretched her legs, straining towards the floor with her toes. I could feel her cunt pull upward, tightening as she moved. Once she touched the floor, she began to push herself up and down on my organ, fucking herself with me.
I watched between her legs as the organ slid in and out of her body. The lips of her cunt clung to the sides of the shaft, sliding wetly up and down.
I could feel myself begin to cum. I pushed up into her violently, shoving my cock into the depths of her belly. My balls shattered, and I felt my cum spewing hotly into the cavern of her cunt. My legs trembled with the effort.
Yvonne pulled her mouth away from her husband's organ.
"He's cuming!" she screamed.
Hill moaned and grabbed his cock with both his hands, holding it at the base. He thrust his hips upward and arched his back. He began to cum. His sperm splashed outward, flying through the air and smacked wetly against her face. It dribbled down her cheeks in milky white rivers.
Yvonne screwed herself down upon my cuming cock. She placed both her hands on my stomach, and she leaned backwards towards me. I watched the sperm run down her cheeks, across her lips and into her open mouth.
Hill continued to cum. He aimed his prick at his wife's open mouth and tried to deposit his sperm down her throat.
I felt her shudder once, convulsively. Her cunt tightened around my cock, like a vise around a piece of soft wood. The ring of her cunt puckered, and I could feel her thighs trembling. I knew she was cuming.
Hill screamed once, and fell forward against his wife. She slumped with his weight, pushing me backward into the couch, crushing me under both of them. Their bodies were slick with perspiration and they reeked of sexuality. My organ was still buried deeply in her cunt.
It was over.
I pushed Hill over to the side, and he slumped against the couch. His legs were open, and his cock had wilted. It lay across his thigh like a broken piece of wet flesh. Yvonne was still on top of me, but she was to the side, resting on my shoulder and the back of the couch.
Beyond her head, through the twisted web of her hair, I could see the screen. The film was still running. The scene was a shot of Yvonne's crotch. The camera moved in closer, and it seemed to freeze on that image.
Then I saw why.
From between her cunt lips, oozing down the thick shaft of his cock I could see a thick, moving white substance. His cum. The final orgasm for the five of us.
The camera remained fixed upon the crotch as more and more of the white fluid stained the man's balls. Then the image jumped once or twice and was gone.
The film was over.