"This is Annie, and this is Lydia." Irene shook hands with both women. Annie was plain, a bit heavy, with full breasts. Lydia was older than her lover, who was about the same age as Elaine and herself. Delicate, Lydia's face was that of a young woman, and her age was betrayed not by lines but by the texture of her skin. She was natural, at home with her maturity, and she had not bothered to dye her hair, streaked with silver-gray. Not much older than forty, she was exquisitely beautiful, each feature in perfect harmony with the others. Her breasts were small, her waist tiny, and her legs long and thin. She was so much a "lady", in fact, that Irene wondered how long she had been swinging – or whether Lydia, like herself, had been forced into the situation.
The suspicion was not confirmed. If anyone, it was Lydia who was the unofficial leader that night. She began to make vaguely dirty remarks – tittering at her own humor all the while – even as she hastened to the kitchen to bring in the coffee and cake.
And it was Lydia who stood, when the tray was empty but for a few crumbs, and walked toward Irene. Irene tingled when the woman's hand curled over the roundness of her own shoulder. As she moved, she was conscious of her tit growing stiff at no more stimulation than the rustle of the flesh against her brassiere – and the psychological stimulation of Lydia's sexual approach.
She had been appalled at the older woman's lack of delicacy, but, even so, "swinging" seemed much easier than she had supposed. She wondered whether heterosexual swapping went so smoothly, but did not have much chance to puzzle over the problem.
"Well, dear," Lydia said softly, as if she were speaking to a child, "why don't we go upstairs to the guest room?" The words broke her reverie and excited her, "Elaine and Annie will want to use the master bedroom."
Irene was impressed by the house. The stairway was elegant, even grand. When she was confronted by luxury, she was almost resentful that she had been deprived of it all her life. Her feelings were something like those of a wife whose husband has been unsuccessful.
"You can put your things in the closet. Later, when we switch, I'll join Elaine in my room, and Annie will come in here." Irene restrained herself from looking at Lydia's body now. Instead she undressed quickly. She would have time enough to fondle the bone-china nudity. At first she had heard the rustle of clothing across the room, but now the silence told her that Lydia was naked. The light switch made no sound, but the room was suddenly dark, lit only by the line of light that intruded from under the bedroom door. She enjoyed the feeling of the shaggy thick carpet on her bare feet as she walked gracefully to the bed, tension coiled in her limbs.
Lydia had already strapped a huge rubber dildo across her stomach. The fake erection pointed toward the ceiling; it was three shades pinker than the woman's skin. She lay fiat on her back, but her arms reached up for Irene. They began instantly to knead and remold the soft flesh. They were expert. Irene was conscious only for the first few moments of the considerable obstacle of the rubber cock. Her first instinct was to touch it, but her fingers grew tired of the lack of response, and within seconds she was combing through Lydia's pubic hair. Soon she had found the clitoris, and she was stroking the button into erection. Her index poked inside the hole and withdrew covered with moisture, which she wiped off on the purplish labial folds.
Lydia, more aggressive than she would have guessed, had pinned her down to the mattress within a few minutes, and was aiming the head of the dildo against the lips of her cunt. Lydia spread her own legs wide and squirmed so that the base of the prick touched her own clitoris. Irene was not sure whether she wanted to begin the coupling then, and she tried to divert her lover by fondling the woman's breasts. She opened her mouth and cupped both hands behind Lydia's head and brought her closer, down against her, so that the bodies were parallel. The end of the dildo slid against the bedspread and between Irene's buttocks, which tingled at the touch of the cool rubber.
Their tongues fought inside their joined mouths. Irene's lips ached with the pressure and the scratching of Lydia's teeth as she tried to lead. Her fingers, stroking gently Irene's left breast, closed in on the tissue. Her fingernail grazed the surface of the already stiff nipple, and Irene groaned, signaling her pleasure by squeezing a pocket of flesh at the older woman's waist, just above her hipbone.
Lydia was lifting her legs now, bending forward to take their weight on her shoulders. She pushed up, and Irene's ass cheeks left the bed. Her partner's head was nuzzled between her sprawled thighs, and her mouth was just inches from the damp cavity. She curled her ankles around each other and waited for the taste of the other's tongue. Lydia's forefinger moved inside her, stroking steadily and gently, while her tongue licked methodically at the clit. The index peeked between her buttocks, hut did not come close to the rectum. Irene, enjoying the closeness of finger to asshole, squeezed her cheeks together and rolled her cunt against Lydia's face. Lydia was down on her in a second, not missing a beat in the rhythm.
Her tongue crept inside Irene's cunt, while Lydia's finger rolled and teased the clitoris. Lydia's head bobbed, and Irene smiled, gasping when the tongue moved down between the buttocks and Lydia tried to ram her mouth between the cheeks. Irene groaned, twisting her body just as Lydia's finger bore down hard on the genital button.
"Let me cum in you," said the older woman, with authority; the words were a statement, not a plea. She slowly moved Irene's limbs off her shoulders, lowering them gently to the bed. Irene squeezed her buttocks together again, noting that her anal hole was still wet with the other woman's spit. She was hot enough now to want the mammoth dildo inside of her.
Lydia was pushing the rounded head of it against the clit, stroking the pliable organ and fingering the inside of Irene's cunt until the lining was fully lubricated. Then she hunched forward and shoved. Irene groaned with pleasure is the first inch of thick rubber moved between the folds of glistening cunt. She forced the muscles together around the prick, relishing the entry, but she let herself relax so Lydia could slip all the way inside. Each new stroke made her feel more moist inside. She reached for Lydia's buttocks and found them, tight and small, with no unnecessary flesh. She squeezed hard, but the muscles fought back. She moved a hand to the base of her spine and rubbed the small of her back. Lydia stopped in midstroke and opened her eyes, staring into Irene's; "You're good, awfully good." She was almost breathless from her exertions, but there was no real surprise in her voice. "You know that, don't you?" Irene giggled, showing her teeth in the grin, and Lydia drifted lazily back into the pattern of thrust and counterthrust.
Irene, pleased by the compliment, was determined to please her lover even more. She reached down to the other's crotch and rolled her thumb over her clitoris, damp and erect. She pulled the skin away from the mesh of tissue and hair and then let it spring back. She repeated the maneuver until Lydia's strokes, in response, were wore complicated and even exotic.
Once she had half the length of the cock inside Irene, Lydia would roll her stomach in a full circle, stretching the cunt walls, and then slip all the way inside, riveting her. She would withdraw slowly, making each inch of loss cause a wave of longing through Irene's sex, until finally she was almost outside; then she would push forward again.
When Irene's hips had begun to grind out their own circling rhythm, Lydia pulled out all the way and brandished the rubber head against the bloated clit. Fiercely Irene grabbed for the prick and forced it back inside, thrusting her belly upward to receive it.
Her own hands, moist with the juice of Lydia's pussy, smeared the latter's upper arm as she came, cheating the older woman of an orgasm – almost. When Irene had relinquished the prick, Lydia took hold of the base and rubbed the edge against her own clit until she came too, her body writhing and almost collapsing on top of Irene, who was squirming, greedy for multiple orgasms. Lydia was satisfied and even exhausted after the first wave, but she pushed and pushed until the girl seemed thoroughly satisfied and able to cum no more.
When the sounds of their breathing had subsided, Lydia suggested they go down the hall to the other room. "Won't they…?" Irene let her voice trail off. She felt awkward when Lydia giggled.
"And what if they are?" laughed the other.
They were. Annie had not bothered to shut the door – or perhaps it was an invitation. Lydia walked into the bedroom she shared with her lover, but Irene, almost shocked, stood at the threshold and watched the two thrashing bodies cover and reveal each other in movement. She felt some pain watching Elaine make love to another woman; yet at the same time she felt excitement, because she knew that in a few minutes she would be touching those large, soft breasts with the huge round nipples, pure red, the nipple hard and pointing out like a cow's tit.
She was to wait less time than she expected. Lydia was standing at the side of the bed. Somehow it seemed perfectly natural that she move down on the bed itself, natural in a way that Irene would not herself feel. But before Lydia even touched one of the two women, she gestured for Irene to come closer, to come toward her.
She hesitated at the side of the bed. The two bodies were active, rolling over each other and changing positions so often as to give the impression that the two lesbians were giving a demonstration of love making techniques. They were so absorbed in the coupling that Irene wondered if they knew that either she or Lydia had entered the room.
She got her answer when Elaine, now on her back, looked deep into her eyes. There was a soft come-hither look that gratified her, and she felt no awkwardness in climbing into the bed, a tangle of disarranged sheets and blankets. She reached immediately for her lover's body, but Elaine was moving so quickly, so violently, she lost hold and had to seize another part of her – this time her breast, exposed when Annie, above her, turned her body to form a right angle with Elaine's, so that Lydia could pull her buttocks apart and ream her with her tongue.
Elaine was reaching out toward her. She felt the weight of flesh behind her. The bed was throbbing with the four bodies pushing and pumping and stroking. Someone's hands were under her, rubbing the insides of her thighs and making her squat down and ram her cunt against the fingertips. She rolled her palm over Elaine's breast and slithered against her body until she was kissing her with all of her mouth, licking her lips and even her cheeks and chin, biting at her lips with teeth and still kneading the breast.
Someone's mouth smeared wetly against the back of her hand as she was sticking two fingers inside Elaine's cunt. A single finger slid between the hairy space between cunt and anus and spread the moisture between the two orifices. One finger pushed inside the small hole and then pulled back out, unplugging her with such force that she felt she was being uncorked.
But finally it was Elaine and Annie completing what they'd begun, their bodies curled into the sixty-nine position. They were tangled together, their spines arched and their bodies hunched into each other's curves, and they were sucking and snorting loudly on each other's cunt. Annie was below Elaine now, and Elaine was moving her head from side to side, pushing her lip against the deep pink cunt folds and blowing inside the narrow crevice, poking the lazy clitoris with her finger.
Lydia had embraced Irene, and she was squeezing her so that their breasts came together. The older woman took one of her breasts in hand and led the nipple against her own, the palm still against the soft curved underside of the breast while the tits became harder in stages, until both came to sharp jutting points.
Her limbs moved apart and she braced herself for Lydia's touch; the latter's hand had been moving gracefully, with delicate pressure, up her thighs, and only now, as Irene arched her spine, did she feel two of the fingers dip inside her pussy, which had begun to dry inside. The muscles were tight, and they grabbed the bones with contraction as tense as if they had been forced inside the anus.
Lydia was wrapping her legs around and then under Irene, so that the heels pushed up into the pillows of the younger woman's ass. Her hands reached behind – both were sitting up, their bodies crumpled together – and separated the cheeks, the fingers pointing just inside, toward the hole.
Irene brought her mouth against Lydia's and traced her tongue slowly, contemplatively, over her lower lip. At the corner of the woman's mouth the tongue tip fell inside and brushed the edge of her heavy tongue; it awakened Lydia's tongue, which started to move like a healthy animal against Irene's. Lydia stroked Irene's cheek with her fingertips, and the manicured nail of her index finger followed the spiral of her ear. Finally she pulled her mouth away from Irene's prodding tongue and licked at the lobe, then moved inside. She moved her tongue in a slow circle at first, but rapidly the pressure became more intense, and her wet stroking was more sloppy as she moistened the folds of the neck. Lydia's palm circled over Irene's breast until the friction over her aureole was like a coital thrust, exciting her, making her grab Lydia's flesh like a madwoman.
Lydia's hands moved down the swelling outline of her hips and then the fingers moved inside toward the bushy triangle. Ten fingers worked over the exposed tissue, already moist with spread cunt lubricant. She pulled at the shreds of skin until the hole dilated from the inside, and Lydia forced four fingers inside at once. When the sides of the cunt contracted, she kept the fingers in, twisting them, while her other fingers swept across the surface of the clit. She moved her hand out of the pussy and rubbed the moisture that remained on the bed of tightly curled pubic hair.
"Suck it… yes, that's it… suck it…" The voice was Annie's, and Irene tensed, her mind and even her body distracted for a moment by the sounds of Elaine's mouth on Annie's cunt.
Squeezing her buttocks, Lydia had gone down on her again, and the steady stroking of her wet tongue made Irene throb again, her blood pulsing through her pelvis and stomach as she ground her body in rhythmic response to the neat manipulations of Lydia's tongue. The side of Lydia's slim, delicate hand had moved under her and was slicing the ass cheeks apart. The side of her forefinger touched the rectum and ran against it, but she was already aiming, and her rear moved away from the hand as she beat out the orgasm with her whole body, stapling her arms behind her on the bed yet bending her spine so she was an arc of flesh and skin. Her legs moved further and further apart so that Lydia's mouth could rivet her to the orgasm that was making her cunt open and shut faster than her heart could beat.
When it was over, she felt a slight chill that started at the base of her neck and spread to her collarbones. Her forehead was covered with sweat that made her skin glow, and she rolled her cheek against her shoulder as a cat might. Absent-mindedly she touched the side of her leg, and she was damp even there.
Annie and Elaine had cum before them. Annie was on her back, her head turned listlessly toward Irene and her own lover so that she could watch the last of the younger woman's orgasm. Elaine was sitting up, slouching, so that her belly showed two creases of fat and her breasts looked sloppy as they hung. Her legs were folded beneath her, and she looked neither pleased nor displeased as she stared at Irene.
She reached out not toward Irene, but to Lydia. She touched the woman on her shoulder, then moved her hand lower and squeezed the flesh around the upper arm. Lydia did not stir, but she obviously enjoyed the contact. Her chin was wet with the moisture from Irene's pussy. She had undone her hair from the bun in which it had been fastened, and the healthy brunette silk, speckled with gray, obscured her shoulders and, when she moved her head to face Elaine, the beginning of the slope toward her perfect breasts.
"I think we should leave your friend with my friend, don't you?" Lydia said brightly, but Elaine did not smile as she stood and walked toward the door.
Lydia followed her, and Irene could not help but admire the firmness of her buttocks as she walked across the room. She closed her eyes when she felt Annie's dry hands around her sweaty waist, and she relaxed against the sheet. Annie let herself down lightly. She knew that Annie's breasts and stomach and legs were parallel with her own, but she did not feel the weight, only the friction, as Annie supported her own weight on her open hands.
She opened her eyes, and her lips came slightly apart. Annie's eyes were open at first, but the lids closed over the hazel of the irises as she drilled her lips to Irene's. Irene did not respond. She was surprised that Annie did not try to enter her half-open mouth with her tongue, but seemed satisfied to roll her lips against Irene's while she felt for Irene's breast with her right hand.
Annie's touch was rougher than her lover's had been. Though Irene admired Lydia's body, she found Annie's more exciting. Her breasts were enormous; they swept across her own and buried them. Her pubic area was a broad valley of hair and labial skin that hung out, waiting to be massaged. It was natural for her fingers to reach inside and stroke the walls of the big woman's cunt.
Annie moved down, and Irene wished that she would finger her. She was tired of being sucked off, and she would have preferred the movement of Annie's fingers. But Annie did not intend to take Irene's sex into her mouth – not yet. She held her own breast in her right hand and aimed it at Irene's nestle of pubic hair. When the aureole slid over her clitoris, Irene groaned. The gasp was followed by a smile and a low giggle. "Do that again…" she asked, but Annie was already moving the nipple back over the clit, which grew larger. Annie leaned over, and her body lay across Irene's now. She pressed her breast against the cunt flesh, her ear touching Irene's thigh, as if she were aiming a stethoscope to a patient's heart. She forced the nipple inside tile cleft, which was covered with a thick, oily essence Annie released her breast at the same moment that Irene closed her legs together around the boob and squeezed it with her thighs, bringing the tit to a sharper point.
Annie shoved her hand in beside the breast, and two of her fingers slipped easily inside while her thumb worked Irene's clitoris over, smoothing it down with the cream that had exuded from her cunt. Irene grabbed her wrist and rubbed her own thumb over the inside, stroking Annie's hand beat-for-beat with the movement of Annie's fingers.
"You're so soft," Annie said, without interrupting the fingering. "Your cunt is like jelly." She blew warm air against Irene's thigh, then brushed her lips against the hairless skin there, Irene thrust her pelvis forward, not asking for more pressure, hut simply releasing the energy that was building up inside her. She let her body rein and almost go limp as Annie continued.
"Did you like Lydia?"
"She's very good."
"Very good," Annie replied, almost admonishing her for the faint praise.
"Yes, very good," Irene said softly, stubbornly, though Lydia had been more than merely good.
"Elaine…" Annie stopped herself. She looked up at Lydia. Her hand stopped moving in midstroke, and for some reason the walls clamped down on the fingers at that moment, holding them in a tight vise of flesh.
Irene was puzzled, but not really curious. She felt a strange detachment from Annie, which she had not felt with Lydia. "What were you going to say?" Her voice was gentle but firm, almost a dare.
Annie was staring at her with the curiosity Irene had refused to show. "How long have you been with her?" Irene's cunt muscles relaxed.
"Two years."
"That's a long time."
"Yes, it is."
"She's very good in bed."
"Yes. I know." Irene was growing impatient – or was she merely afraid of what Annie would say next? Something was on the woman's mind.
"She's awfully rough," Irene made no move to answer her. "I wouldn't guess that she's very good to you." She watched as Irene's eyelids covered her irises. Irene concentrated on showing no expression; she felt peculiarly vulnerable.
"All right, then," Annie sighed, "I'm sorry."
She had only meant well, Irene reminded herself. "Don't be," she said, her voice full of reassurance. Annie laughed and withdrew her fingers from Irene's cunt. Slowly she brought the glistening bones to her face. They were a half-inch from her nostrils, which flexed as she breathed in the female scent. The fingertips moved closer to the upper lip, streaking it with the glossy lubricants. Then she opened her mouth and licked greedily at the fluid, drowning it in her own saliva, overwhelming the acid with alkaline in her mouth. She reached down to her own cunt. Her eyebrows moved as though she were curious to find something.
The tips of her long, thick fingers disappeared inside the hole. When she pulled them out, they were wet. Her ass sank down against Irene's stomach. She was poised on her haunches, not letting her weight settle on her partner. She tantalized Irene with the smell, just out of reach of Irene's tongue. She turned her hand toward herself and touched her wrist to Irene's chin. Irene reached for the fingers, held tightly together, and her tongue extended from her mouth to start licking furiously.
The rest of her body was impatient for sexual contact. With the inside of her other hand, Annie began rubbing the sweaty sex, twisting the lips as they hung loose. "Easy," she cautioned, as Irene's hand circled around her waist and dug for the asshole, which was sore. She held herself still while the finger probed for the sphincter tissue, which it nudged carefully apart. Annie squatted down on the finger, devouring it with her dry hole, which hugged tight around the intrusion.
When she pulled it out, she wiped the thin layer of oil in Annie's bush. With the finger's retreat, her asshole reacted with a spasm, and Annie jabbed her stomach against Irene's rolling her pubic hair against her partner's until Irene stuffed two fingers inside her cunt.
She followed Irene's lead. Her forefinger was pushing forward inside the woman's vagina, while her index finger had moved away from it and under the pubic arch. The finger nudged between the buttocks and immediately shoved its way inside the rectum, which was warm and only slightly moist. The walls gave way as she tried to move her finger all the way up to the inside of Irene's stomach.
The two fingers tried to move toward each other instinctively, as if they were trying to drive the two holes into one gaping vault, breaking the barrier of flesh and muscle between them. They surged forward inside Irene at the same time, and when they moved out Irene moaned softly, thrusting her pelvis forward to receive the next assault.
Irene started to massage her own thighs, ridding herself of the tension that filled her body by clawing her own flesh, trying to press even more sensation into herself. She kneaded and twisted and rolled the skin, scratching it until she drew slight trickles of blood, while Annie's two fingers moved inside of her like two prongs of the same sharp hook.
She brought her leg up toward Annie, and she pushed the knee into the fork between the other woman's legs. Annie, still kneading, rubbed her pussy against the knee until her clitoris felt as though it would burst, and the orgasm passed through her. Irene pumped wildly, wanting to have her orgasm at the same moment as Annie. She was impaled on the two thin sticks, and she writhed from side to side just before she forced her stomach up and against the first finger – and her anus – in the next stroke, deep down against the second. She had almost buried the index inside her asshole.
It was so deep inside the anal tract that Annie could not pull it out, and only the wrenching movement of Irene's hips as they swung out and twisted wildly freed the finger. Irene waited for it to slip inside again, and the rectum's muscles opened in a quick spasm, but she was moving her body so fast that Annie could only stroke the inside of her cunt, which opened and closed in waves. Her body moved like a jagged blur, and Annie stuffed four fingers inside the hole in one of the dilations, rolling the fingertips against one wall, but finally Irene slowed her body, and it began to undulate at low speed, until her orgasm was done. Annie's had been over for seconds, but she was still rotating her stomach so that Irene's fingers could scour the inside of her cunt. Her hand floated down over Irene's breast and cupped the mound in her hand. The tit had gone soft; and Irene's only movement was the rise and fall of her chest as it vibrated with her exhausted breathing.