Joan surveyed the young man seated next to her on the divan; his hand had wandered up under her dress, along the smooth, white and warmly inviting flesh of her inner thigh. She looked at him over the rim of her glass; her eyes smoldered an invitation and she made it clear when her own beautifully manicured and tiny hand moved to his crotch to smooth over the obvious bulge that throbbed there. After a few moments, she led him to an upstairs bedroom; luckily finding it unoccupied.
They were nude and were lying on the bed; he was nervous, but determined and he caressed her body with clumsy hands. She guided and encouraged; her mouth, her breasts… her loins began to respond to him, and she stimulated him erotically.
He was kissing her thighs, on down to her knees, then he was tracing his tongue over her ankles to her feet. Around her right ankle, he found a heavy silver chain with an engraved plaque. He read it in the dim light. JoJo.
"Who's JoJo…?" he asked her.
"A friend of mine…"
"Do you always wear it…?"
"Yes…" she said. "In his memory!"
"He's dead… then…?"
"Yes… he's dead… but I'll never forget him…" she sighed.
Joan reached down and pulled him up to her.
"Do you want me…?" she asked. "Do you want to fuck me?"
The young man was shocked. He'd never heard a woman use the word. His face flushed.
"God… yes! I've wanted to fuck you… for weeks!" he declared.
He was in her, his cock ravishing her loins, her soft, hair-lined cunt absorbing him high up to the fullest. The door opened softly, a head came through, observed the action on the bed and a man's voice said: "Oh, excuse me… I didn't realize…"
It was Jim. Joan looked toward the door and said: "Jim, darling… why don't you bring her in here… there's another bed?"
"All right…"
"Milton…" she addressed the man lying between her widespread legs. "This is my husband, Jim…"
The young man almost collapsed on top of her, his face going white.
"Y-Your h-husband…?"
The young woman, who had accompanied Jim into the room, smiled and said: "Really, Milton… shouldn't you be introducing me to Jim's wife…?"
Milton's agonized face twisted around to see his wife, Betty standing there. She was in Jim's arms, his hands busy on her body, helping her to undress.
"My God… Betty… What are you doing here…?" Milton gasped.
"The same thing you are!" she flung back.
Joan broke in: "Afterwards… we can have a real swinging foursome… O.K…?"
"Great!" Jim agreed.
"Oh, that'll be wonderful!" Milton's wife gushed.
"God! What have we gotten into…?" the younger man wailed.
"Maybe the fun time of our lives!" Betty affirmed.
Joan's cunt, below, worked on him, squeezing and milking at the rapidly deflating cock; her lips ground up at him, undulating against him. She was gratified when she felt the answering throb as he flexed and expanded again inside her.
She whispered into his ear: "Come on, Milton, I want you to use that big cock of yours and fuck me to death with it!"
He began to move in her, again, and Joan knew that it would be all right, as she heard Jim and Betty on the next bed, the little cries and mewlings telling her that Jim was making Milton's wife want it as she had never wanted anything before.
They would learn, yes, they would learn too before this night was over.