A cab finally got me back to Margot's about three a.m. I was exhausted and went to sleep on the couch without even taking off all my clothes. When I awoke in the morning I decided that I would have a cup of coffee and something to eat before I even contemplated Count Porno's Lounge and what I would do about my job them. Walking into the kitchen, I noticed that Margot had left another note. I picked it up and read, "Your boyfriend called last night, and wanted to come over to see you. I told him you were working. He got out of the hospital early and wanted to surprise you. He'll call you again this morning. Margot."
I couldn't believe it. Tom out of the hospital. He must have known he was getting out the last time we talked but kept it a secret to surprise me. I wasn't so sure whether I was pleased or irritated. I was thrilled that we could be together, since, Lord knew, I needed all the emotional support I could get. But I also wished I had had time to get my personal life in order before we were reunited. The shambles things were in hardly seemed the appropriate background for a successful relationship.
I was puttering around the kitchen deep in thought when my consciousness was pierced by the doorbell ringing. At first I thought it was the telephone and jumped about a foot in the air from excitement because I thought it was Tom making his promised call. When I realized it was the doorbell, I walked over to the door and opened it, leaving the chain lock still attached so that I had about three inches of space to peer out through. I couldn't see anyone, but all of a sudden I heard a rumbling voice growling, "All right, lady, open up, this is the police;" and my heart leapt into my mouth.
Half expecting to have the door kicked down if I didn't get it open immediately, I hurriedly detached the chain and opened it widely. To my surprise, instead of a squad of policemen, there stood Tom with a smirk on his face.
"Oh, God, Tom," I gasped, "you scared me! I really thought you were the police!"
He laughed and said, "Well, what have you been up to?"
We looked at each other silently. I was so glad to see him, but I was still getting over the shock he had given me. Finally, he said, "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Oh, sure, sure," I said. "It's just that you took my breath away."
The minute we were inside and the door was closed behind us, Tom grabbed me and kissed me, and although I appreciated it, I lay limply in his arms. When he had finished he looked at me and said, "What's wrong, Honeysuckle? Is that all the greeting I get?"
"I'm sorry, Tom," I said. "I guess it's just that I'm beat after my first night working. Listen, never mind about me, I want to hear all about how you got out of the hospital so soon."
"I always knew I was going to get out right around the time you did, but I wanted to keep it a secret so you'd be surprised when I appeared out of nowhere. But after the greeting you gave me, I'm not so sure it was the best idea."
I nodded my head, and said, "That's what I suspected, you rascal. Well, anyway, Tom, I'm glad you're here."
"Then why didn't you show it?" he asked, his feelings obviously hurt.
"Oh, you men!" I said in a good-natured scold. "You think if a girl doesn't fall head over heels every time you walk into a room they don't like you any more. Believe me, Tom, it doesn't have anything to do with you, I just have a lot on my mind. You know, having to stay here with my mother, being broke, and this job I've got."
"I understand," he said thoughtfully. "What kind of job did you get, anyway?"
I hesitated for a moment and then said, "Well, frankly, Tom, I'd rather not talk about it now, if you don't mind."
"But I do mind," he said forcefully. "I care about you, Honeysuckle. I feel like your troubles are my troubles."
His concern for me and his willingness to share my problems touched me deeply. "All right, Tom," I said at last, "maybe it's better if I do tell you."
"Good," he said, taking my hand and leading me over to the couch. "Let's sit down and you tell me all about it."
"Well, Tom, it's… it's," I said, stumbling over my words, "it's hard to tell you this, but I got a job-it was the only job I could get-as a dancer in a nightclub downtown."
"What's the matter with that?" he asked.
"Actually, it's a sleazy bar called Count Porno's Lounge, and I dance in the nude." There, I'd managed to get it out!
He turned pale, and was obviously shaken by what I had told him. He tried to act nonchalant about it, but didn't succeed. Finally, he gave up trying to put on an act and blurted out, "That's awful, Honeysuckle! How did it happen?"
"Like I said, I couldn't find any other job," I explained, some of my anxiety gone now that I was well into the story. "They liked my looks and I was hired on the spot for a hundred and fifty a week."
"What do you do?" he asked as if he really didn't want to hear the answer.
"I told you, I dance around in the nude."
"In front of a bunch of men?" he asked.
"Of course," I said, "did you think it was in front of a bunch of nuns?"
He was silent for a moment, looking pensive. Finally, he said, "Do you like it?"
"Well, it's… it's," I stammered, groping for the right thing to say. And then, suddenly, I felt as though I couldn't hold anything back any more, and that everything would be better if I just let what I had churning inside of me out. "Oh, God, why beat around the bush," I sobbed, "it's terrible!"
My body quaked now with racking sobs as Tom put his arms around me and comforted me. "Don't worry, Honeysuckle," he said gently, "you won't ever have to go back there."
"But don't you see," I wailed, "where do I have any choice? I need the money desperately, and it's the only kind of job I can get."
"There's another way," he said softly.
"What?" I demanded to know through my tears. "I've racked my brain looking for some other way, and can't come up with a thing."
"We'll get married," he said firmly.
It took a moment for his remark to sink in, and when it did I couldn't believe it. "Tom, please," I said, "please don't joke with me at a time like this."
"I'm not joking, darling," he said, smiling. "I've never been so serious in my life. If you say you'll marry me, you won't ever have to do anything but stay home and take care of our house and raise our children."
Raise our children, I thought. Never had any phrase been so sweet to my ears. But I had to be sure, and blurted out, "How can you ask me to marry you when we've only known each other such a short time?"
"When you really love someone, you know right away," he said, "so why waste a lot of time waiting around."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"As sure as I'll ever be about anything. And how about you, Honeysuckle, do you love me? Are you sure?"
All of a sudden, as I put my troubled life behind me, there seemed to be only one correct answer. "Yes, darling, I'm sure."
Tom and I couldn't even stand to wait for the three days the state required after a marriage license was taken out before the ceremony could take place. Instead, we talked it over on Margot's living room couch and decided we would drive across the state line where there was no waiting period, the same as Jeff and I had done. At first I was reluctant to agree to this, the memory of my brief marriage to Jeff stirring up so many unpleasant memories. I explained my reluctance to Tom, saying, "It seems like a bad omen to me, like a bad way to get started. It's almost as though we were putting some sort of curse on ourselves."
"That's silly," he retorted. "You know you don't believe in things like that. After all, you and Jeff were just silly kids. You and I know what we're doing."
Finally he convinced me that going across the state line was not going to make any difference as long as we really loved each other, and we made preparations to leave. I left a note for Margot, telling her that Tom and I were going to be married, and that I would be moving into his apartment, and thanked her for her hospitality.
At that moment I made the decision that in addition to getting out of her apartment, I was going to get out of her life. My marriage to Tom was to be the beginning of a new phase of my life and II wanted to leave as much of the past behind as possible. I silently vowed to myself that I wouldn't be seeing her again.
Tom and I dashed out the door when I had finished with the note, got into his car, and sped toward the state line. After the ceremony, our craving for each other wouldn't permit us to drive all the way back to Tom's apartment in the city before we made love. Tom pulled into an isolated motel and rented us a room, writing with a flourish on the register: "Mr. and Mrs. Tom Rafferty."
"Do you think they believed us?" I giggled as we walked toward our room, ecstatically happy.
Inside the room we set a world's record for getting our clothes off, and then dove for the bed and each other's panting, naked bodies.
Tom pushed me back on the bed, his leg forcing its way into my already dripping cunt. I shoved back against his force while he nibbled on my tits. There wasn't much foreplay because we were both so hot and anxious to fuck. He crashed his body on top of me and was instantly between my thighs, pumping his hard cock at my swollen cuntlips. I grabbed his prick and inserted it with a strong jerk into my cunt. He moaned and thrust at me and I felt the rock-hard flesh entering me deeply. I moaned in pleasure and he instantly rubbed the most sensitive spot inside the walls of my cunt with the probing head of his surging cock.
"Oh, that's good," I said huskily, and kissed his face wetly.
He responded by sticking his tongue into my mouth, and each time he pulled his cock out, he would thrust his tongue deep into my mouth. I found this to be delightful, and wasn't surprised when I had a quick orgasm that Left me breathless but hungry for more.
As Tom pumped down savagely between my loins, I started fucking him back as hard as I could, matching his every downward thrust with an upward one, the moisture lubricating our genitals causing a loud smack at the point of impact.
"How does my cock feel inside you?" he asked as he removed his tongue from my mouth and began nibbling at my ear, breathing into it as we continued to fuck away at each other. "Is it hard enough for you? Am I hitting you where you need to be hit?"
This sort of consideration really surprised me, and made me love him all the more. "It's just right," I gasped. "Just keep fucking me, Tom. God, your cock is hard tonight!"
"And your tight pussy is making it harder," he breathed in my ear.
"Fuck me, darling," I moaned, and pushed up at him several times with all my might as he continued to plunge down on me.
Suddenly I could feel his muscles tense up and I knew he was ready to come. My own body was in such harmony with his that when I sensed he was on the verge of a climax my own panic button started to sound, also. I wanted to cap it off with something special, so just as I sensed he was getting ready to come, I whispered urgently, "Please, please, do it in my mouth this time!"
Tom quickly withdrew from my cunt and slid up on my sweating body, and with the cheeks of his ass spread across my tits, shoved his palpitating cock between my quivering lips and into my hungry mouth. I moved my head furiously back and forth, trying to sustain the friction with my mouth that my cunt had started.
And then his cock seemed to double in size, and the hand I had on his balls could feel them violently contract as he started to come. I thought he was never going to stop squirting the thick, warm jism into my mouth. He did hesitate twice, but immediately resumed with an even greater flow, as if he had a faucet between his legs he could turn off and on at will, filling my mouth beyond capacity, sticky globs of cum oozing out of the corners and dribbling down my face. I gleefully swallowed every drop, and when we were finished and lay exhausted side by side, I made no attempt to wipe his jism from my face.
The honeymoon, as it turned out, however, was soon over. It wasn't that we didn't love each other all of a sudden, because we were still crazy about each other, but little differences began to pop up. Since this was my third marriage and I was scared of failing again, I felt it was my duty to compromise when we had disagreements, and before long I found myself doing a lot of it. Still, I kept telling myself, I loved Tom, and even disagreeing with him was better than living with Margot, or being a bottomless dancer. Tom had mentioned a house and babies when he a had proposed. After we had been married a couple of weeks I told him that I was going to stop taking birth control pills so we could get a start on the family we had talked about. He became very nervous and wanted to know why I was in such a hurry. When I asked him if he was going back on his word, he assured me that he wasn't, that he still wanted children, and to move from our apartment into a house of our own more than he ever did-but not immediately. He explained it by saying, "I don't want to share you with anyone, not even an unborn baby, for the first year. Besides, we're young yet. There'll be plenty of time later for babies and mortgages."
Because I loved him, I gave in to him. One thing Tom had a lot of was charm, and it quickly became apparent that he could talk me into anything. His charm also attracted other women, though; and every day when he left for work I found myself trying to conquer a nagging sense of jealousy. He did very little to help me conquer it. Although he obviously loved me, that didn't mean he'd taken an oath to ignore all other women. Tom liked girls, and at the parties we went to he would often flirt with them. I kept telling myself it meant nothing, that he'd chosen me, and that kept me from getting too upset.
Part of my problem was that I didn't have a whole lot to do. The apartment we lived in was relatively small and didn't need a lot of housework on my hands, I spent a lot of it worrying about things that I probably wouldn't have considered if I had been busier, and I wound up getting upset. Finally, I could take the boredom no longer and decided that as long as I had a lot of time I might as well use it to improve myself, and I enrolled in an extension program to get my high school diploma, and also to learn some useful employment skills.
"Why do you want to do that?" Tom asked with obvious aggravation when he found out about my plans to go back to school. "I told you that you'd never have to go to work again."
"Maybe I want to," I said, "just for something to do, since we aren't making any progress on that family we'd planned."
"Oh, come on, don't start that. We've got plenty of time for that. There's no need to rush things," he said as I listlessly nodded okay and went along with him as usual. But I did go ahead and enroll in school, the first independent thing I had done since our marriage, and my involvement with that made my life a lot more interesting.
Before I knew it we were celebrating our first anniversary, still happy, but getting kind of restless with each other. I had gotten my high school diploma and was now actually taking some courses for college credit. I couldn't believe my progress, but I was the only one who seemed excited about it. Tom was involved with his job, and although we managed to go out once or twice a week it seemed as though we were doing it just because we thought we should. Also, even when we did go out we always managed to drop by this party, or run into that group of people, and we wouldn't have the chance to be alone. Tom loved being around other people, and they loved making him the center of attention.
Things moved on pretty much the same way, and gradually the talk of the house and family faded and was finally absent from our conversations with each other. I was busy going to school studying secretarial management, and the days didn't drag by as much as they had before. Soon, our second anniversary was upon us, and not long after that my twentieth birthday. Tom, by now, knew how old I was, and promised to reserve a night alone-just the two of us-far my birthday.
As I puttered around the apartment on the day I turned twenty, I couldn't help but look forward to the evening Tom had promised me. I anticipated that a large portion of it would be devoted to lovemaking, something which we hadn't been doing very much of lately. Our lives had become steeped in so much routine that after more than two years of marriage we seemed to be taking each other for granted. Often we would go over a week without making love, and when we did it was often mechanical and sometimes uneventful in that frequently I didn't experience orgasm.
Tom had gotten into the habit of rolling over and going to sleep just after he had had his climax, sometimes leaving me lying there on the bed with my legs apart, his cum dribbling out of my cunt with my body still as taut as a bowstring, the tension screaming to be released. I hoped that on this night of my birthday. Tom would take the time to love me slow and tantalizingly, the way I loved it, rubbing his hands over my tits and cunt, licking my nipples, massaging my clitoris, eating my cunt, and then plunging his cock into me, pumping endlessly while I had orgasm after orgasm, my voracious cunt squeezing two or three loads of jism from his throbbing prick. I got so hot thinking about it, I wandered into the next room to look at myself in the full-length wall mirror. I still had my looks, I could see, and the thought of my body naked under Tom turned me on even more. I pulled a chair in front of the mirror and sat down in it, spreading my legs so I could look up my skirt. I had taken to not wearing any panties when I was around the house, and up the tunnel of my open skirt I could see my hairy, slobbering cunt. I immediately hiked the skirt up around my hips and stretched my legs upward, putting my feet against the wall and shoving my steaming gash to only a few inches from the mirror so I could watch it palpitate and quiver as I dug my fingers into it, watching its thick discharge pour all over my probing hand. An orgasm quickly swept through me, and as I got up and smoothed down my skirt, I began looking forward all over again to my evening alone with Tom.
Tom was supposed to be home at six, but by seven he still wasn't there. I began to get worried, afraid that he had been in an accident since he had promised to be home for my birthday, but also wondering if he was just too busy for me. I had bought all of our favorite foods-steak, artichokes, strawberries, wine-and had fixed a sumptuous spread for us to nibble on prior to our lovemaking. I had changed into a pair of very sheer lounging pajamas with nothing underneath and, now, as the clock inched toward seven-thirty, I felt foolish sitting around the apartment alone with a bunch of cold food dressed like a call girl. As time went on, I didn't know whether to be worried, angry, or disappointed. Just as I had made up my mind to call Tom's office and find out if he had been delayed, I heard him coming through the door.
"Where have you been?" I blurted out. "Do you know what time it is?"
"I'm sorry," he said, "but something came up. But I'm going to make it all up to you." He had his arms behind his back and then suddenly whipped out a gorgeous bouquet of red roses. "Happy birthday," he said.
I had always been a sucker for Tom's charm and quickly gave in to his smile, his excuse, and his roses. From there my birthday improved. We had a delicious meal after I'd heated it up, and Tom presented me with a lovely watch as a present with my name, Honeysuckle, engraved on the back of it. As I placed it around my wrist and admired it, he asked, "Did you get what you wanted?"
"Not everything," I said provocatively as I walked over to him and sat on his lap. He quickly slipped a hand inside the low neckline of my lounging pajamas and gently squeezed one of my tits while his other hand began stroking my crotch. I could see a bulge begin to protrude between his legs and I didn't waste any time leaning down and unzipping his pants and fishing out his erect cock.
Slipping off his lap, I dropped to my knees on the floor and wrapped my lips around his prick, shooting my mouth all the way down to its base and suppressing my reflex to gag. He eased himself down on the floor beside me with my lips still enveloping his pulsating cock. As I continued to suck, I worked his trousers off while he undid the lounging pajamas which dropped from as if they weren't there, since they were made to be taken off.
Wit my lips still clutching Tom's prick, which seemed to get even bigger under my oral stimulation, we repositioned ourselves so that I was crouched on top of him facing his feet, with my open, steaming cunt dripping in his face.
"Smother me," he said, and I obediently lowered my hips and let my cunt squish against his face while he began to eat me.
Tom's groin kept thrusting upward, causing his cock to strain the capacity of my mouth, the tip actually plunging into my throat he shoved so deeply. Meanwhile, I wiggled my ass for all I was worth, smearing my cuntlips against his ravenous mouth, his hot tongue stabbing my rigid clit.
Suddenly I felt an overwhelming urge to have him inside me, and leaving his cock standing straight up in the air, I sat up and moved forward. Lifting my body above his about a foot, I placed my hands on either side of my cunt, parting the lips, and slowly and tantalizingly brought it down over his prick, swallowing it entirely inside me as I sat on him.
"Just lay there and let me do all the work," I said as I began undulating on top of him, fucking him as hard as I could. Just to drive him crazy I turned around with his cock still in me, the circular friction making him shudder in delight as I now faced him. I leaned over as I continued to rotate my hips, shooting my tongue into his mouth. I threw my arms around his neck as I could feel his cock swell to the bursting point, seeming to batter my cunt walls and crash into my womb.
I knew he was going to come as I embraced him with all my might and prepared for a shattering orgasm. Instantly I felt my insides bathed with a shower of scalding cum as his pounding cock spurted oceans of the sticky fluid. In the space of a few seconds, I felt one, two, three orgasms occur successively, the effects of each one building on top of the next one until I felt Ii was going to explode with pleasure.
Later, we lay side by side on the floor, exhausted from our fucking. Finally, after a long period of silence while we both caught our breath, and I bathed in the afterglow of my multiple orgasms, Tom propped himself up on an elbow, and said, "Honeysuckle, I have another present for you."
"Oh, what?" I said anxiously.
"Well," he said, "this is not the easiest thing to say, but I might as well come right out with it. I feel lousy about the way I've been treating you."
Languishing in the afterglow of our fuck, I was willing to forgive and forget anything, saying, "That's all right, darling, I know your job keeps you busy, and you're just trying to do the best you can for me."
"No," he insisted, "that's the easy way to describe what's been going on. The fact is that I haven't done my best. I've ignored you for so long that I wonder why you haven't left me."
"Don't be silly!" I said, shocked. What was he trying to get at? I wondered.
"Starting now," he continued, "I'm going to make it up to you."
"You already have," I sighed, parting my thighs and rubbing my cunt.
"No, seriously," he said, "I'm really going to make it up to you. How exciting can your life be with me working all the time, always coming home late. It seems like we hardly ever see each other any more. I feel like I owe you a little more excitement in life. My life is interesting with my job and all, but what about yours?"
He seemed so sincere with what he was saying, and I welcomed the attention so, that I didn't dare break the spell by mentioning that my life would be very interesting if he had kept his promise about a house and children. So I said nothing as he continued talking.
"Honeysuckle," he said, "I think it's time, well, it's time
Suddenly it occurred to me that maybe he was thinking the same things I was, and that he was going to suggest that we get started on our family, better late than never. "Yes, Tom?" I responded with tingling anticipation.
"Well, darling," he said earnestly, looking me straight in the eye, "I think it's time we broadened our horizons to bring some excitement back into our lives. I've made friends with some people who are into something that seems like, if we tried it, would bring us closer together than ever."
"What are you talking about?" 00:59 / 00:59ing more curious with each moment.
"Here goes," he said, "I know you're going to be surprised. These friends of mine are members of a group where the members get together once or twice a week and completely let their hair down, if you know what I mean."
"No, I'm not sure I do," I said, puzzled. "You mean group therapy?"
"Well, sort of," he said, "but not with a shrink. It's a lot more intimate and honest than that."
"I'm not sure I understand. What exactly do they do?" I asked.
"They make love," he said simply.
"Make love!" I blurted out incredulously. "Do you mean wife-swapping?"
He laughed uneasily and said, "No, that's not what it is at all, that's just a lot of idiotic publicity a lot of uptight puritans have made about it. It's actually a form of communication, a kind of sensitivity training. The purpose of it is to actually bring husbands and wives closer together. Everyone I know who is involved with the group says they feel closer to their husbands and wives than they ever did, and that's what I want for us, to be even closer than we were when we first fell in love."
"What's involved?" I asked suspiciously. Because I hadn't absolutely refused, he seemed heartened and his tone of voice became more confident. "Well, like I said, they get together, maybe three or four couples, at someone's house for probably dinner and a few drinks. Then after a while everyone sits around talking, discussing their feelings, you know, their secret fantasies and desires, and so forth. Everyone is completely honest with each other, and everyone starts feeling closer and closer as the evening goes on. They start caring for each other as human beings to the point where they actually feel love for one another. Eventually, the most natural thing for them to do is to act out the way they feel by making love with each other."
"You mean you'd be with someone else's wife?" I asked. "And I'd be with some other man?"
"Just physically for a short time, but, actually, we'd be doing it for each other. As we became more sensitive to others, it's only natural that we'd become more sensitive to each other. My friends tell me that after an evening like the one I described, they can't wait to get home and get into the sack. How does that sound to you?"
"Most unusual," I said, not being able to think of any other response.
"I know it's a big step for us," he said, "but I think it'll add a lot of happiness to our lives. Anyway, my surprise is that I've arranged for us to be introduced to the group tomorrow night. Isn't it exciting?"
I stood up and walked over to the couch and took a blanket off it and wrapped it around me, then sat down and lit a cigarette. "To tell you the truth," I said, "it's a lot more scary than it is exciting. Are you sure this is what you want to do, Tom?"
"Very much," he said, nodding his head.
I was very confused. I had no desire to make love to anyone else but Tom. My problem was not that I wanted to fuck another man, my problem was that I wanted to fuck the man I already had more than I had recently.
Still, there was a core of truth in what Tom had said in that it was apparent we had been drifting apart, and that the spark in our relationship had been fading for some time. Anything that might bring us closer together might be worth trying, even this. And I had to admit that the way Tom presented the group and its purpose sounded like it made some sense. Maybe my shock to it had just been that I had never thought about things in the way he'd presented them before. Also, I had tried to be a good wife and leave the final decisions to my husband, and he was so intent on his proposal that I didn't have the heart to start disagreeing with him now. Finally, I said, "If you're sure it's what you want, Tom, I'm willing to try it."
"Oh, thank you," he said, coming over to me and kissing me. "I can promise you, you won't be sorry."