The door to their room opened with a loud bang, and, laughing and giggling drunkenly, Christina and Michael Williams staggered into their room at Mount Shangri-la Lodge. Behind them, equally giddy, followed Lou and Eileen Graham, their closest and oldest friends.
"Sshhh!" Christina said, raising a crooked finger and holding it against her lips. "You'll wake the children. It's late."
"Children?" Michael asked. He turned around and gave his wife a searching look. "The children are home, darling. You do remember that, don't you? I mean, you're not that far gone, are you?"
"Home? Aren't we home? Oh, yeah!" Muddled awareness rearranged her delicate features, and Christ began to giggle. "I forgot! We don't have any children for the weekend. I don't have to be a mother tonight. That's wonderful."
Michael cocked his finger at his blonde-haired wife. "Only a wife tonight," he reminded her, implying something distinctly sexual in the term. "All you have to be tonight, darling, is a wife."
They began to giggle together, in that almost mindless form of drunken communication that needs no words to express the most complicated thoughts or emotions. They came together, staggering with laughter, holding onto each other to keep from falling on the floor.
"Hey, come on you two," Lou Graham said, only slightly less inebriated. He pushed the doubled-over couple into the room with both hands. "Let someone else get in."
Trying to control himself, Michael tried to explain to his best friend. "Do you know what Chris said?"
Eileen Graham, the least drank member of the group, quickly closed the door to the room, locking it with a decided snap of her wrist. -She was cold stone sober, to be exact, but for now it would pay to play their game. She had some very definite ideas in mind, and she wasn't about to do anything that would interfere with their fruition.
"Come on, people, she said, herding them toward the carefully made king-sized bed in the center of the room. "For God's sake be quiet. Do you have any idea what time it is? It must be after one."
Chris tried to explain to her girl friend. "But we don't have any children this weekend. My mother has them. We're all alone, just the four of us."
Eileen placated her. "Sure, we're alone, but the people around us aren't. They're trying to sleep. We're going to get thrown out if we're not careful."
Michael stiffened his spine and thrust his chest forward as he tried to control his tongue. His roughly handsome face mirrored his struggle.
"They are not sleeping," he said, slurring his words. "They are fucking. That's what everybody does when they go. away for a vacation. They fuck."
A tension gripped Eileen's stomach, and she had to consciously control her impulse to grind her trembling thighs together. Her cunt was sopping wet. It had been for the past hour and a half, and her dripping panties were glued to her crotch like a second skin.
"Well, let them fuck," she said, emphasizing the last word, coloring it with as much raw sexuality and raunchiness as she knew how. "But we should let them fuck in peace."
Her mouth was open slightly, and she was breathing shallowly through her parted lips. Michael was staring directly at her face, and something electric passed between them. His dark eyes blazed with a long smoldering passion; his tousled black hair hanging in sweaty ringlets across his forehead. Slowly, sensually, Eileen ran her pink tongue around the rim of her glistening mouth. Her cunt throbbed in anticipation. She trembled inwardly.
Their eyes were locked upon each other while their partners amused themselves for a moment. Chris staggered over to the bed and plopped unfemininely down on the edge of the mattress. Her thighs were parted, and the hem of her short, print dress rode up over them, exposing considerable flashes of her warm pink flesh. Lou, equally exhausted, dropped into one of the chairs to the right of the bed, his head thrown back, his legs sprawled out in front of him.
"You know what I feel like doing?" Lou said, rolling his head from side to side across the back of the chair. He suddenly jumped up in a disjointed, uncoordinated enthusiasm. He snapped on the radio, searching for some music. "I feel like dancing."
"You still feel like dancing?" Chris asked, leaning back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. Her skirt pulled higher, exposing more of her thighs, and the pale pastel color of her panties through her pantyhose. "After all the dancing we did at the party in the Recreation Hall? Jesus, what kind of vitamins are you giving him, Eileen? Tell me so I can give them to Michael."
Eileen's eyes didn't move for an instant from Michael's face. "Lou doesn't need vitamins," she said, answering her friend, but communicating with her friend's husband. "Once he gets started, he s full of energy."
"That's right, baby," Lou said, dancing over to his wife. He was into his dancing and was completely unaware of what was going on between his wife and his best friend. He tapped Eileen on the shoulder, causing her to break contact with Michael's eyes for the first time. "Come on, baby. I feel like dancing."
Eileen smiled at her husband "Oh, not now, darling. Pin so tired. I'm exhausted." The smile became wry and mask like, although Lou was totally unaware of the subtle alteration. "Why don't you dance with Chris?" she suggested. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
Her husband nodded okay, and danced across the room toward Michael's wife. Chris's close-cropped blonde hair was hanging down behind her, almost touching the bed as she rocked her head from side to side. Her thighs were widely parted, and Eileen could see all the way up her skirt. She hoped her husband would not miss the view.
"Hey, come on, let's dance," Lou said. He tapped her on the knee until Chris looked up at him. "Come on, Chrissie. I feel like dancing."
"Me?" Chris squealed. "Why don't you dance with your wife?"
"Ah, she's too tired," Lou explained. He tugged on her hand, trying to pull her erect. Chris resisted him limply. "She's getting old."
"But I'm tired -"
"Come on, Chris," Eileen quickly cut in. 'Dance with my husband. He's looking forward to dancing with you. He told me you dance very well."
That pleased Chris, and she sat up. "He did?" she squeaked. Her bird-like features composed themselves into a sloppy smile. She stuck her tongue out at her husband Michael who had his back to her. Michael was still staring at Eileen. "Well, at least somebody appreciates my dancing."
The drunken couple staggered against each other, trying to find coordination enough to move their limbs in time with the driving energy of the hard rock. Their movements were loose and fluid, as if all the alcohol inside of them were swishing and sliding and responding to the. pull and tug of the music much in the same way the tide responds to the influence of the moon. Chris danced with her eyes closed, her small, pert breasts bobbing and bouncing under the print design of her dress. Lou was into the music, sweat streaking his pock-marked face, his head, rocking from side to side, the only portion of his anatomy in sympathetic rhythm.
Eileen walked casually across the room and turned the dial on the music. She switched stations until she found a slow, grinding ballad kind of music.
"Hey, what did you change it for?" Lou demanded. He half turned, one shoulder down, one shoulder up, his spine twisted, and his legs sprawled in mid-stride. "I was just getting into the sound."
"It's late, darling," Eileen explained reasonably. "And people are sleeping. If someone complains, we might not be able to dance at all."
Lou considered, her answer.
She smiled at her husband. "Oh, go on and dance, Lou. Music is music. And hung up before Chris falls down."
Lou nodded in agreement, and turned again toward Chris. Her eyes were still closed, and she was swaying from side to side, feeling the sensuality of the slower, lilting tempo. He stepped toward her and pulled her to him. He fitted his body against hers, wrapping his arms around her back. Without losing a step, Chris fell in against him, her arms sliding up Lou's back, pressing her flushed cheek against his chest. They began to dance.
Eileen looked at her husband's crotch. It was a fraction of an inch away from the rounded vee-like curve of Chris's cunt. Sooner or later, Eileen knew her husband would have a pardon, and it would be pressed between Chris's thighs. It was exactly what she wanted.
"I gotta take a piss," Michael said. He watched the dancing couple, and nodded in agreement. He walked past them and headed toward the bathroom. "I won't be long."
When she heard the bathroom door close, Eileen wandered across the room, carefully avoiding the dancing partners, and she took a place on the edge of the mattress. She sat for a moment trying to compose, her thoughts, wondering how she was going to handle the next few steps. A smile spread across her face when she saw that Lou indeed did have a pardon, and he was dancing it against the edge of Chris's cunt. Judging from the tensed ripples of her asscheeks as she pressed forward, Chris was equally aware of its presence.
Michael timed his reappearance perfectly. Just as the song was ending, the bathroom door opened. He had a half empty bottle of vodka in his hand. His jacket was gone and so was his tie. His shirt was opened to the middle of his chest and dense, black curling hairs were visible. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms. He snapped the radio off.
"Say, why don't we have a drink?" he suggested. He held the bottle up. "A celebration of our first vacation together after all these years."
The mood was one of general agreement, and Lou and Chris parted. Michael walked toward the bed, kicking off his shoes. He climbed into the middle of the mattress, sitting diagonally across from Eileen who had turned around to face him.
"Come on, everyone," he said, unscrewing the bottle. "Everybody get settled on the bed, and we'll have a toast." He helped his wife onto the bed, holding her up as she giggled and stumbled into the center of the mattress. Lou sat on the edge, one leg up, sitting across from his wife.
"Oh, you didn't get glasses," Chris noticed. Her pale blue eyes were shot completely through with blood.
Michael shrugged, flipping his hand out. "The hell with the glasses," he exclaimed. "We'll rough it, drink fright from the bottle."
Chris seemed wary. "Do you think we should? I mean, straight vodka?"
Eileen quickly supported the idea. "Oh, come on, silly. This is what we went away for. To get away from the kids and the responsibilities. To be able to do things like this; to be able to get so goddamn drunk we don't even know what we're doing."
Chris still seemed uncertain. "I don't know…:”
Without another word, Eileen pulled the bottle from Michael's hand, and she tipped it against her mouth. She closed her eyes, and the, clear, potent liquid spilled into her mouth. Her throat swallowed, and she shuddered convulsively. Her eyes were watery when she put the bottle down. She exhaled fire.
"Here," she said, her voice hoarse. She handed the bottle to her husband Lou who was sitting across from her. "Your turn."
Lou accepted the bottle without too much enthusiasm. Eileen knew her husband wasn't too much of a drinker, and that he rarely drank anything straight with the exception of a little Scotch once in a while. She also knew she could get him to do just about anything if she made it seem it was what the group wanted from him.
"Don't be a party-pooper!" she chided. She poked her husband in his soft, relaxed paunch. "After all these years of having to watch everything we do, everything we say, I think you'd be glad to act a little crazy for one night. Drink up so everyone,' can have a turn."
Michael caught on quickly. "Yeah, come on, Lou! I want my turn, and so does Chris. Drink it, fellow!"
"Sure!" Lou said expansively. He plucked the bottle away from his wife's outstretched hand, and- he put it up to his mouth. "Why the hell not!" He took a strong, deep sip, and grimaced as it went down.
Michael took the bottle from him. He gave it to Chris. "Your turn, honey. And remember: no kids!"
Giggling gleefully, Chris accepted the bottle. She took a big swig, and the colorless liquid trickled down her chin and stained her party dress. She coughed and shook her head, and handed the bottle to her husband. "Wow," she said breathlessly. "Wow!"
Michael took his drink, then passed the bottle to Eileen, and the circle began again. There was just enough vodka left in the bottle for two more complete revolutions. By that time they were all so drunk they hardly knew what they were doing. They were laughing and shouting, slapping each other drunkenly on the back, falling all over each other. They were call sitting squarely on the bed now, facing each other, their legs crossed Indian-fashion. Lew had joined Michael in removing his tie and jacket. Chris was sitting back, her legs folded under her, her skirt pulled up so that her ass was hanging out from under the hem.
Chris seemed the drunkest of all. "Hey, we should play a game or something. Cards or something. Does anyone have any cards?"
Lou smiled brokenly, his eyes moving up and down, out of focus. "Yeah, let's play cards. Let's play strip-poker!"
Everyone giggled suggestively, each intrigued with the idea. Their defenses and inhibitions were far enough down for them to be able to react to the suggestion with an honest openness. They had been friends for years, even before they were married. Often they'd talked about the possibility of swapping, but it had never developed any further than that: just talk. But tonight was different, and they were all very much aware of that. They were alone without their children, more than a hundred miles away from home, in, another state, with no one around who knew them, and with none of the responsibilities of married life weighing too heavily upon their thoughts or their consciences.
"Hey, wait! I have a better idea," Michael said, waving the empty vodka bottle around. "Lefts play – Spin-the-Bottle!"
Eileen's stomach quivered, and she rubbed her sweaty palm on her knee. Her curt was on fire, and it ached tube caressed. Her fingers itched to fondle it.
"That's a good idea," she said, struggling to control the trembling of her hands. "I'm game."
"Spin-the-Bottle?" Chris whined. She screwed her face up into a grimace of distaste. "That's a kid's game!"
"Not the way we're going to play id" Michael exclaimed, the vodka robbing caution from his brain.
Eileen quickly looked at her husband who seemed to be teetering back and forth, from left to right, somewhere between acceptance and rejection of the suggestion. She said: "You want to play, don't you, darling? Everyone else does."
Lou blinked his eyes. "They… do?"
"Of course," Eileen confirmed. Her mouth was dry, and she swallowed heavily. "Don't they, Michael?"
"Sure we do," Michael explained to his friend. "Of course, if you're jealous… If you can't handle the idea?"
"Me?" Lou exclaimed. "Don't be silly. Of course I'm for it. I think it's a great idea. Just great."
So it was settled, just as Eileen had hoped and Michael had planned. The game began.
Michael spun. "Now, here s how we play. You spin the bottle, and whomever it points to; you gotta kiss that person." He held up his hand. "Now, wait a minute. That don't mean I'm going to kiss Lou, cause I'm not You only kiss a person of the opposite sex. Like if the bottle points to my wife, or to… Eileen."
Chris giggled. "That's good, because I dolt want to kiss Eileen. No offense intended, but if I've got to kiss anyone, I think I'd rather kiss Lou."
The four giggled nervously to relieve their mounting tension. Four pairs of eyes watched the spinning bottle in the middle of the bed. Perversely it stopped, pointing directly at Lou. The men laughed, and the women teased them. Michael spun again. He got Chris, his wife.
Michael leaned over and kissed his wife. Chris was responsive, and she closed her eyes immediately, pressing her lips hard against her husband's mouth. The wet, slapping sounds of their tongue filled the silent room, and soft, barely audible moans escaped from Chris's lips. just as Michael's hand began to slide down from her shoulder, toward the trembling hill of her breast, Chris broke the kiss off.
"Wow," she said, shaking her head. "And I called this a kid's game? Who's turn is it?"
"Yours, darling," Michael said. He shifted awkwardly on the mattress, dropping his hands against his lap to either side or draw attention to his throbbing hardon. "You spin now."
Chris spun. She got Lou.
She laughed nervously.."Now what do I do?"
"You gotta kiss me," Lou said, warming to the idea very suddenly. He'd never kissed Chris sexually before, and the idea excited him. He tried to make his voice sound casual, but the excitement was evident.
"That's right," Eileen confirmed, bolstering her husband's uncertainty, telling him, in essence, that it was alright for him to kiss another woman. "Those are the rules."
"Well, I know that," Chris squeaked. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to hide her obvious interest. "I just feel so strange. I've never done anything like this -"
"None of us have," Michael reassured his wife. "But you have to kiss him."
Chris thought for a moment. "I know: tam your backs! The both of you. Don't look at us. Give me a chance to get used to the idea; I feel so strange. Please…"
Michael and Eileen tamed their backs. The bed moved, and they could feel Chris and Lou come together. They heard the sounds of flesh pressing against flesh, and the same wet, licking sound of tongue mingling. When Chris moaned, as she had with Michael, Eileen gave Michael a quick, intense look. He returned the look, and trembled, when Eileen ran her moist pink tongue over her top lip.
Lou spun, and he got his wife. They kissed wetly, their tongues lashing back and forth. Eileen became dizzy with passion realizing she was tasting the warmth of Chris's mouth on his tongue. When they broke the kiss off, they saw that Chris and Michael had not been idle. Michael was kissing his wife, holding her breast between his squeezing fingers.
Chris's face was flushed with passion. "Oh, I think I'm going to like this game. Whose turn is it?"
"Mine," Eileen whispered. Wetness was oozing from her cunt, running coldly down the insides of her thighs. She spun the bottle. "I got Michael."
They exchanged meaningful glances. "Are you going to turn around?" Michael asked his wife.
"Do you want us to?"
"We gave you privacy," he reminded.
"I have it," Lou cut in. He was drunk, but it was his passion that was talking. "Why don't you go inside to… kiss. In the bathroom. We'll stay here. Then, when it's our turn, you can stay here."
Michael looked hopefully at his wife. "Well?"
She shrugged. "I guess so…" she mumbled. "I mean, I guess that would be a good way of handling it, No, no I don't mind at all."
Michael and Eileen climbed off the mattress and walked into the bathroom. The light was off, and shadows covered the back part of the room. Eileen proceeded him into the room, then turned, and, moaning softly, opened her arms and beckoned Michael to come closer.
He did, pressing his body against her softness. They kissed passionately, exploring each other's secrets with impatient tongues and fingers. Michael grinded his cock between her thighs, and ran his hands up and down her back, squeezing the cheeks of her ass with trembling fingers.
"Oh, Christ," he moaned,.pressing his cheek against his face. Eileen licked his ear and neck with her tongue, her hips grinding hard against his erection. "I've waited years for this. Years. All this time I've wanted you, wanted you so badly -"
"Ssshhh," Eileen whispered softly. She took Michael's hand from her ass, and she placed it on her large, aching breast. "Touch me all over. All over my body!"
Michael's hands moved frantically, sliding from one breast to the other, using both hands, as if attempting to make up for all the time he lost. He pressed his hands down her sides, over the widening arc of her hips, and then he grabbed for her cunt. Eileen shuddered when she felt his fingers gripping her wet, oozing mound, and she began to hump herself up and down, grinding.her pussy into his palm.
"Underneath," she whispered. She touched Michael's cock through his pants, moaning softly when she discovered that he was as big and as hard as she had hoped he would be. Her, fingers stroked him, pinching at the shaft through the sensation-dulling layer of material. "Touch me underneath! Touch my cunt!"
Using both hands, Michael lifted the silky material of Eileen's dress. He bald it in place above her waist with the grinding press of his hips: Excitedly he caressed the damp mound of her cunt, running his fingers up and down, over and across, in and out of her widely spread thighs. Her panties were soaked throughout, and he could hear the soft crashing swish of her pubic hair flattening under the sensual rubbing of his exploring fingers. He found her clitoris, a hard, rising lump, and he fingered it through the panties, taking delight each time she moaned from his caresses. He rolled the bud with the same firm, stroking motion he had used so successfully on Chris, his wife. Obviously, it was a good technique, because Eileen was responding with wild abandonment.
"Take my panties down," she begged, breathing hotly in his ear. Her fingers stroked slowly up and down, exploring every throbbing inch of his stiff cock. "Please… please! Take my panties down. Fuck me… fuck me!"
"Take my cock out first; Michael bartered. He slid leis index finger under the elastic of her leg band, and ran the first joint of his finger up and down through the damp, hairy slit of her cunt. Her wetness oozed all over his hand. "Take my cock out first, and I'll fuck you."
Obediently, Eileen unzipped his pants, thrusting her hand inside of them. She fumbled with his shorts, her fingers pulling desperately because she was so close to the source of his throbbing thickness. She found the opening in his shorts, and she liberated Michaels cock. It was thick and hard, and it slithered sensually into her hand. Eileen stroked it. up and down, pulling him toward the edge of her pussy.
"Oh, God!" she moaned. "It's so big! Just as I knew it would be. Put it in me, please… please! Fuck me with it… fuck me with it!"
Michael pulled her panties down over her hips, dropping down onto his knees in front of her. He could see her swollen, oozing mound inches away from his mouth, and without a moment hesitation, he darted forward and buried his tongue between the lips of her cunt. As he licked her, he continued to pull her panties down until they were gathered around her ankles. His tongue slithered up and down, licking through the damp, pussy-wet hair, stroking her clit until her hands came down upon his head and pulled his face hard against her heaving belly.
"Fantastic!" Eileen moaned, grinding her naked cunt up and down around Michael's lapping tongue. She was standing on the tips of her toes, her thighs open wide around his face, and she was humping her cunt into his face. Her anus ached pleasurably from the strain of pulling him against her, and her back was arched almost in. half in her effort to bring the underside of her cunt into a more direct contact with his wet, licking strokes. "Eat me, baby! Eat me! Eat my pussy up,"
Michael was holding her naked ass between his widely-spread fingers, squeezing in and out, lifting her juicing pussy up and down around the thrusting wedge of his tongue. Fingers from both hands crept into the crack of her ass, and as he licked her, he could feel the spasmodic, quivering open-and-close of her anus. Cuntal discharge leaked from her pussy and ran down the inside of her thighs.
Michael returned his attention to her clitoris, stroking it rapidly up and down, lashing it with his tongue. He could feel Eileen stiffening, her thighs spreading further apart, and he knew it would be only a matter of moments before her orgasm was spilling hotly into his mouth. He intended to make her come, rubbing her clitoris so violently it seemed to be vibrating under his tongue. He would have, too, but he stopped suddenly.
"Don't stop!" Eileen moaned, pulling him by his hair in an attempt to make him resume his deep wet strokes. "Please, please… I'm going to come – Don't… don't -"
"Listen!" he cried, his voice hoarse with surprised urgency. "Listen for a moment!"
In the background, coming from the next room, they could hear the sounds of moans. The moans were soft and grunting, pleasure ringing clearing in their undertones. It was the sound of Chris' voice, and overlayed upon it, were the sounds of Lou's pleading cries.
"I'm going to come!" Chris' muted voice cried. "Harder, harder! Do it harder – OOoohhh!"
"Uuhhh!" Lou grunted, the sound of the bed squeaking under them. "Uuuhhh!… Uuuhhh!… Now!"
Michael stared up at Eileen. Saliva dribbled down his chin, and he had cunt hair on his tongue. Her pussy was wet and full, the lips parted, and the ruby bud of her clitoris standing like a smoldering ember between them. Her belly was heaving up and down."
"They're fucking!" Michael said incredulously. "My God, they're fucking!"
For some reason the idea excited him. It excited the both of them. Although they were aware that their intention was to swap, hearing it happen, right in the next room, was an incredibly erotic experience for the both of them. Wild sexual images flashed through both their thoughts as they pictured, in intimate detail, the events occurring in the bed just beyond the bathroom wall. Chris and Lou were fucking; more than that, they were coming, the both of them.
"Fuck me!" Eileen pleaded. She pulled Michael up until he was standing between her thighs. She leaned back against the edge of the sink, and, taking his cock in both hands, she inserted him into her wet, leaking pussy. "Push it in! In and out! In and out! Fuck me, Michael, fuck me!" Make one come!"
Leaning forward on the sink, Michael thrust his long, thick cock deep into the bubbling pit of Eileen's cunt. He could feel the shaft sliding in, her wetness and heat spreading like a mist across the head of his cock, her cuntlips rubbing up and down around the sides of the shaft. lie pushed in, as deeply into her as he could, until his balls were dangling between her thighs, and he began to come.
"I'm coming!" he cried, jerking his hips savagely forward, burying the shaft of his spewing cock all the way up inside of her convulsing cuntal passageway. The sperm exploded from the tip of his joint; gushing in thick, colloidal blobs, splattering sharply against the roof of her cunt. "I'm coming… I'm coming!"… I'm coming!"
The moment Michael's sperm touched her, Eileen began to come. Her orgasm was powerful and shattering, beginning at the base of her spine, curving around the underside of her crotch, and erupting all the way up the canal of her cunt. She hunched herself down hard upon him, screwing her cunt around his cock, lifting her legs from the red shag rug of the bathroom floor, balancing herself on the edge of the sink. She twisted her thighs around his driving middle, locking them over his tensed, jerking ass, and she rolled her pelvis in a tight, grinding circle.
A long while after the orgasm had subsided, Michael and Eileen remained in that same position, leaning against each other, balanced on the edge of the sink, breathing softly. Sweat dripped from their bodies. His cock was in her cunt; dribbles of sperm oozed from their fluttering lips and trickled across the cheeks of her ass. A wet, irregularly shaped dampness stained the front of Michael's parted gray trousers.
"Christ," Eileen moaned, whispering in Michael's ear. The sound of the squeaking, grunting bed came clearly to her from the other room. "We did it. After all these years, Michael, we finally did it." Even when it was over she couldn't quite bring herself to believe it had actually happened. "We really, really did it"