When Andrew walked up, I had just finished one of my beginner’s classes in the big indoor pool. He certainly looked out of place in his sweat-soaked t-shirt, shorts, bandana and court shoes, with a racquet in one hand and a little blue ball in the other. My students—men and women in dripping-wet bathing suits—eyed Andrew curiously as they filed past on their way to the locker rooms.

I climbed out of the pool, grabbed a towel and began to dry off. “Lost?” I asked, even though I knew he couldn’t be. I’d seen him around the club, a handsome older man with salt-and-pepper hair and a pleasant demeanor. We’d exchanged a few friendly nods in passing. He’d never come near the pool, though.

He laughed and said, “No, I—well, I think I’d like to sign up for swim lessons.” He paused, and as we sized each other up, something made my pulse quicken. I had never seen him up close like this. I was struck by how tall he was, and how attractive. He obviously took care of himself; his lean physique would make many younger men envious. There was something else, too—something in his mesmerizing gray eyes as he looked at me that sent a twinge of arousal through my core. He was turning me on.

“Well,” I said, feeling a flirty smile spread across my face, “which is it? Do you want to enroll, or don’t you?”
He allowed his gaze to drift quickly over my body. It was subtle, but I could feel his admiration—and, yes, his desire. I was suddenly conscious of my utilitarian one-piece bathing suit. My job was to teach people to swim, not titillate them. Even so, I knew I wore the suit well. My C-cup breasts and perky ass were well defined beneath the Lycra fabric, and my legs are toned and shapely from all the swimming. Still, as I stood there beside the deserted pool with Andrew, I wished I had on my sexiest bikini.

“Yes,” he said, looking me square in the eyes, “I do want to enroll.”
“Okay, cool,” I said. “My name’s Maren. I need you to fill out a form.”
As I led him to the office near the back of the pool, I could feel him watching my backside . . . and I found myself walking with an extra twitch of my hips.

I gave him the form and a pen. He filled it out quickly and handed it back. That’s when I learned his name, and also his age—forty-nine. As I’d suspected, Andrew was old enough to be my father. The fact that we were twenty-six years apart only made him more interesting to me. We spent a few minutes talking—or, in my case, trying to talk coherently while pretending not to notice the sparks flying between us. Andrew explained that he wasn’t afraid of the water; in fact he could swim. What he wanted was to learn to swim properly, using real strokes. I put him in the appropriate class and told him I’d see him Friday at six.

He shook my hand. “Thanks. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” With a look that made my heart race, he turned and left.
I thought a good deal about Andrew—perhaps the right word is fantasized—in the days that followed. I got myself so worked up about him that I wondered how I would remain professional during Friday’s class. I did manage, but just barely. In his bathing suit, Andrew was sexier than ever. I wanted to run my hands over his bare chest and shoulders; I wanted to slide my palms down his stomach and slip my fingers inside his trunks. Whenever he looked at me, I saw the attraction in his eyes, too.

Afterward, as the other participants climbed out and headed toward the locker rooms, I called Andrew aside. “How did you like your first session?”

“If anyone can teach this old dog new tricks,” he said, “it’s you.”
I laughed. Then I heard myself say, “How about a private lesson? We could accelerate your progress quite a bit.”
“That’s a great idea.”

“Okay, then,” I answered. “How about Sunday? I can reserve the pool for the hour before closing.” If things got interesting, I didn’t want to have to worry about the time. My boss would let me close up; I’d done so many times before.
“All right,” Andrew said, “I’ll be there.”

When Sunday arrived, I coached Andrew in the breaststroke and several others. He worked hard; I was impressed with how much better he got in such a short time. Of course, he was also incredibly charming, and there was a flirtatious subtext to the whole experience, a sexual undercurrent that neither of us made any effort to deny.

As we treaded water in the middle of the pool, Andrew said, “I have a confession to make. I signed up for these lessons because I wanted a way to get closer to you.”

“As long as we’re making confessions, I have one, too.” I swam toward him, right into his arms. “You didn’t really need a private lesson. I only suggested it so that I could get closer to you.”

Andrew’s eyes crinkled in a smile. I put my arms around him and pressed my lips to his, getting a long, passionate kiss in return. My breasts squashed against his chest; I’m sure he felt the hardness of my erect nipples through my bathing suit. His hands went to my ass and cupped my cheeks where they peeked out of the suit.

Suddenly, he broke off our kiss to glance around. “Are we okay to—”
I took his wrist and looked at his waterproof watch. “It’s already a quarter after,” I said. “The club is closed. Hear that silence? We’re all alone.”

“In that case—” he started, but I cut him off with another kiss. The guys I’ve smooched in the past had nothing on Andrew. I felt his confidence and his years of experience, right down to my toes. While our tongues danced, I grabbed for the waistband of his trunks. I was desperate to get at his cock, which was already stiff inside his swimsuit. He chuckled at my eagerness and helped me slide the garment down to his knees. The moment his cock bobbed free, I snatched it up in my hand, curling my fingers around its hefty circumference. Andrew sighed happily as I stroked his manhood from one end to the other. In the water, his cock felt more or less weightless, but I knew from its impressive size that Andrew was the proud owner of quite a heavy prick.

Eager to determine if I was right, I guided Andrew to the side of the pool. “Sit up here,” I urged him, patting the tiled edge above the four-foot marker.  He did as I directed, and I took the opportunity to pull his swim trunks completely off. I dropped them onto the deck beside Andrew and took his manhood in both my hands. It was ponderous indeed, a lovely monster of a cock, sprouting from a thatch of wiry pubic hair darker in color than I’d expected. The crown was bulbous and purple-tinged.

My appraisal complete, I gave in to my desire and dropped my lips over the head of Andrew’s beautiful cock. I took special delight in tracing the contours of his meaty crest with my tongue. When I began lapping, Andrew couldn’t help but moan. He coiled his fingers in my long blonde hair and gently guided my head. I needed no urging, but I enjoyed his reaction and began slurping on his dick with wild enthusiasm. Up and down I went, sliding my lips nearly all the way to his balls before reversing direction and rising to his helmet-shaped glans again. I was bobbing so fiercely that I was making the water in the pool slosh up against the sides.

Peering down with lust-filled eyes, Andrew held my hair aside and watched the action of my lips and tongue. I don’t know how long it had been since he’d had a twenty-three-year-old girl go down on him like that, but he was clearly enjoying the moment. In fact I felt his balls twitch just then, and a corresponding throb went right up through his cock, a throb that registered plainly against my tongue. He was about to come.

“Oh, fuck, that feels so good,” Andrew murmured. He reared back on locked arms, and the muscles in his thighs went rigid as he jacked his cock between my lips. A moment later, his come filled my mouth. Enjoying the taste, I swallowed again and again, barely keeping up with the spurts. Some of his cream leaked out the corners of my mouth, but I scooped it up on my fingers and licked them clean.

Andrew watched my lewd performance and grinned with renewed desire. As he hopped back into the pool beside me, I worked frantically to get my swimsuit off. It seemed like it took forever, but in reality I was nude in half a minute. Peering down through the water I saw that he was fully hard again, which would have been a pretty remarkable recovery time for a guy my own age, let alone a man pushing fifty.

He held me close and kissed me. Dropping one hand between my legs, he dipped a finger into my wet pussy. I trembled at his touch, wanting more.

“Let’s go to the steps,” he said. He reached for me and I jumped into his arms, allowing him to carry me to the shallow end of the pool. I slid free of his grasp and, turning away from him, knelt on one of the higher steps, where the water reached my thighs. I bent over, breathless with anticipation. Andrew stood behind me and stroked the globes of my ass for a moment. Then he took hold of my hips and entered me. I felt his cockhead burrow into my pussy, diving deep inside me so intensely that I had to remember to breathe.

Now Andrew made the pool water choppy. Holding fast to the sides of my ass, he thrust into my sopping cunt with exquisite precision. Each time his balls flounced against my clit and his magnificent cock filled me up, sparks of pleasure shot through my entire body. The sparks ignited a full-fledged fire as my companion brought all his experience to bear on our coupling. Andrew knew what he was doing better than anyone I’d ever been with before. He pounded my pussy relentlessly and varied the angle of his attack, until he found the stroke that worked best for me. Soon his big shaft was triggering G-spot sensations inside my body that I hadn’t even known were possible.

“Oh, sweet mother of—” I couldn’t finish, couldn’t say another word; the most mind-blowing orgasm I’d ever experienced swept through me and blew the roof right off my world. Andrew kept thrusting his dick in and out of my molten sex like he could go on all night. His stamina was amazing. A minute later, he brought me to another climax of mystical proportions, and then he, too, finally succumbed to his own orgasm. I felt, with exquisite detail, the eruption of his cock as it fired gobs of warm cream deep inside my channel. He roared at the initial wave of pleasure, then leaned over me and clasped my breasts while the spasms continued. I wished the moment would never end, but when it did, I made a silent vow to return to those incredible heights of ecstasy with Andrew at the first opportunity.

When we saw each other again at the next meeting of the group swim class, he took me aside and said he was ready to try his new skills in a different environment. “Will you meet me at the lake this Saturday for a swim?” he asked, eyes twinkling.
By “the lake,” he meant the big lake outside of town that was a popular recreation spot in the warm summer months. The weather hadn’t quite lived up to expectations yet, though, and I knew the lake was likely to be pretty quiet. “Sounds great,” I said. I was planning on a lot more happening than just a swim, and I knew Andrew was thinking along the same lines.

When I got there, I found that Andrew had rented a paddleboat. He stowed my picnic basket and helped me aboard with old-fashioned chivalry. I sat down beside him and we pushed off, both of us pedaling the little boat out to the middle of the lake. As soon as we were well away from the pier, I shimmied out of my shorts and t-shirt, revealing my favorite bikini. It was barely anything, just some string and a few triangular pieces of cloth with a pink polka-dot pattern. Andrew loved it. He stripped off his shirt, and we soaked up the sun together as we pedaled the boat around a curve in the shoreline.

Despite what we both had on our minds, we actually did get some swimming in. The water was cold, not at all like the heated swimming pool at the club. Anxious to engage in warmer pursuits, I caught Andrew’s eye and nodded toward the boat. I saw the want in his eyes, too. We climbed aboard and pedaled our way to the farthest shore, where we were completely alone. Andrew secured the boat in the shallows, and we explored the little strip of deserted beach for a few minutes. My pulse was pounding. I felt a quiver of excitement at the thought of fucking Andrew right out there in the sunshine.

“Let me see you,” Andrew said, and the passion in his voice made my heart skip a beat. I pulled the ties at my neck, back and hip; the polka-dot bikini fell to my feet. Andrew’s admiring gaze flowed over my body like the warming rays of the sun, heating every curve.

“You are so beautiful,” he said. His cock, which had grown long and stiff, was begging to be released from his swim trunks. Without another word, I pulled the trunks down and he kicked them off. His prick practically leapt into my hand. I stroked it all over while we kissed—Andrew was such a good kisser!—and then he lay me down on my back on the sand. I clasped my hands beneath my head and let my knees fall open. Andrew looked on for a moment, admiring the view. Then he crouched between my legs, lowered his head to my cunt and slid his tongue inside me. “Oh, yes,” I said, running my fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Eat me . . . ”

His breath on my clit was tantalizing as he worked his tongue between my folds. My juices were running copiously now, and Andrew lapped them up enthusiastically. I could feel his fingers holding me open, boldly exposing my glistening pink recesses to the fresh air. He slid one finger inside me, then another, and started pumping them in and out. At the same time, he moved his mouth to my swollen clit and sucked it gently but firmly against his teeth. The rush of sensation, wonderfully intense, made my back arch off the ground and my thighs clamp against Andrew’s ears. The way he sucked and probed my sensitive flesh for the next several minutes was pure poetry; I’d have been climbing the walls if there’d been any around. As it was, I stared up at the high blue sky and gave a wild cry, barely aware of my fingers raking savagely through the sand. My climax rushed upon me and robbed me of my senses for a full minute while I bucked against his mouth.

When my head began to clear, I reached for Andrew and pulled him on top of me. Seeing his mouth sloppy with my juices, I couldn’t help kissing him fully and deeply, tasting myself. He saw the excited expression on my face, and his breath quickened. Reaching down between us, he readied his cock. I felt the portly crown nudge between my welcoming pussy lips and then the whole thing slid inside, to the hilt. I gasped with delight and wrapped my legs around his hips. For a second or two he held still, nuzzling my neck while my pussy clasped his rod. Andrew then began slowly pumping his prick in and out of my sticky sex. His pace at first was leisurely, but I could feel the fervor within him, barely restrained. I ran my hands over his sun-warmed back and grabbed his clenching glutes. He brought his mouth down to my tits and sucked hungrily on my nipples, sending new currents of pleasure through my body.

Soon Andrew picked up the pace, driving his penis into my pussy with urgent, lightning-quick thrusts. My clit, sublimely provoked once more, threatened to send me off to cloud nine in short order. Then Andrew rolled us both over on the sand, so that I was on top of him. His cock remained snug in my pussy, right where I wanted it. I leaned low over him and let my breasts sway above his face. He suckled at my nipples again and slid his hands down my body to squeeze and massage my ass. My passion spiked to new heights, making me gasp. I began gyrating my hips against Andrew, working his dick deep into my cunt. He added his own thrusts from below, and soon we were going crazy together, bouncing this way and that as we bumped and rutted toward a mutual climax. Again and again my clit smacked hotly against his groin, making me delirious with pleasure. Andrew’s finger found its way to the tight little hole between my asscheeks, and when he applied pressure there, I lost all control. A tsunami of blissful sensation washed over me, and I reared up on Andrew, riding him for all I was worth. My wild enthusiasm and the contractions of my cunt around his cock made him come, too. Stroking my sides and jacking up into me, he relinquished his load of come. I felt the warm spurts deep inside, and they kept coming and coming, until Andrew was spent at last.

I’ve seen Andrew a lot since that day, and I’m happy to say that he’s nearly as good a swimmer as I am now. But swimming is never foremost on our minds.

My bravery had blossomed that day, and it was anything but the usual. Lily only came to do my hair a few times a year, and I’d been carting around a crush on her for ages. For three years she’d been visiting to cut and color me, since no one else seemed to do it right, and she no longer worked at the salon where we’d first met.

“I was thinking something new,” I said, as she came around to stand in front of me, brushing my bangs down over my eyes to judge how long they were.

“How new?” she asked. Her brown eyes sparkled as she looked down at me.
“Really new. Really short. Really blonde,” I said, swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in my throat.
“Sounds good.” Lily smiled and stepped a bit closer to mess with my part. I could smell the cinnamon and spice scent of her favorite perfume, and under it, the pretty light scent that was all her.

I forced my hands to find her knees and stroke gently. I wanted to gauge her reaction. I needed to see if she’d get upset or scared or angry. Once I knew, I could force my rapidly beating heart to calm down.

When I touched her, she looked surprised, but then surprise turned to amusement.
“So you’re going to be all bold and daring, then?” The teasing in her voice told me that she was interested.
I felt like I could take a deep breath, finally. I’d been fretting over my advances for days before her arrival.

“I am. I want to try . . . exciting new things. People,” I amended. Then I grew even bolder and shoved my hands—palms skating over her denim-sheathed skin—higher up her thighs. When I splayed my fingers, my thumbs brushed the “V” between her legs.

She made a small noise, and I tried to remember to exhale. I was holding my breath.
She shocked me then, by straddling my lap and settling her small frame against me. “I wondered if you’d ever do this, you know?”

I shook my head, at a loss for words. So I simply kissed her, darting my tongue between her pretty pouty lips. Her mouth tasted like cherry lip gloss.

I wound my hands into her hair and took her mouth a bit more forcefully. Her teeth scraped along my tongue, and she pushed one small hand down into the plunging neckline of my sweater. Her fingertips brushed my nipple, and heat rocketed through me. When she pinched my skin, I hissed against her mouth and arched up under her. I would have given anything in the world for a strap-on just then.

I hadn’t thought that far ahead, too afraid she’d turn me down, so we’d have to make do. I grinned as the thought crossed my mind.

She kissed me again, her hands in my hair this time, yanking so sparkles and swirls of pain sounded under my scalp. The pain quickly turned into a pleasant thumping, and my pulse ratcheted up another notch. I could feel it in my chest, my temples . . . my cunt.

We were pressed breast to breast, and she was grinding her lower body against me. I wanted her so much, so much it made me tongue-tied.

Instead of talking, I slipped my hand into her jeans and found her slick and warm. I plunged a finger into her, swirling my thumb to her clit.

Lily gasped, moving on my lap restlessly. I laughed. “This would be so much easier if you took these off.”
“Look who’s talking,” she said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Touché.”

When she stood, I grabbed her waistband and did it myself, popping the button, yanking the zipper. When she was bare, her jeans and yellow panties around her knees, I studied her smooth shaved mound. I parted her and considered the pink and red pout, and the swollen knob of her clitoris. And then I touched my tongue to her—just once—and her knees sagged.
“You still have your pants on.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s fine.”
“But—”
“We have time,” I said. “We have all day.”
“At least take your jeans off.”

I did as asked, slipping them down but not off. I was bare underneath, and for a second I watched her study me.
My impatience grew so I slipped my tongue along her slick folds and tasted the melon-honey flavor of her. She gripped my hair again, and I moaned. My noise vibrated through her, and she whimpered.

“I’ve imagined doing this so many times,” I whispered before pushing my rigid tongue into her soaked opening. Her cunt was muskier and more intense than her skin. I drove in a bit deeper, and then paused to caress her clit with my tongue.
“Oh, and I’ve imagined you doing it,” she responded with a sigh.
Her admission sent a thrill through me.

“I was worried you’d think I was a pervert,” I said. Then I dragged my flattened tongue along her center and listened to her hum happily from the resulting sensation.
“You are a pervert,” she said. “But then, so am I.”

I chuckled before plunging a finger into her wet heat. Her knees dipped again, and I found her ass with my free hand, squeezing one rounded, smooth cheek. I added another finger and shoved it in deep to find her most secret, silken places. I curled my fingers and drove into her over and over again until she was moaning and her thighs were trembling.
“I want you to, I want you to . . . ” she muttered over and over.

I paused and did nothing but drop baby kisses along her plump outer lips. She made a noise of pure frustration.
“I want you to come, too.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
“It does.”

I took my free hand and pushed two fingers deep into her cunt alongside the ones already buried in her. She was full of me then, and so fucking wet that she was beyond accommodating. When my fingers were slick with her juice, I let her watch as I brought two of them down to stroke my own swollen, needy clit.

“See,” I said, as one hand worked my pussy, and the other hand worked hers.

Lily nodded, bit her lip, and then sighed when I curled the fingers still buried up to the knuckle in her cunt. “I’m going to come soon,” she said.
I kissed her belly. “Good.”

I put us back on the path to orgasm, practically squirming in my chair as I touched myself. It was a bit awkward stroking myself with my left hand, but my dominant hand was busy. When the first rippling spasm of pleasure made her pussy clench around my fingers, I pushed my own fingers farther inside my cunt. As she panted wildly and clutched at my shoulders, I licked up every slick, sweet drop of her juices.
“I’m coming,” she said, as if she needed to announce it.

I lapped at her, drinking her in, sucking every bit of pleasure off her skin that I could manage. Her sweetness only intensified when she came, and my face was wet with her abundant juices.

A final spasm wracked her, and she dropped to her knees, shoving my thighs wide and moving my hand from my mound. She pressed her face between my legs. Just the sight of it—of her—intent and wild was enough to do me in. She barely had to lick me, just the feel of her breath and the tip of her tongue set me off. But she made sure to take her time to lick up my wetness and taste my come.

Then her eyes were flashing at me and she was smiling. “So we’re going to cut your hair—”
“Short,” I said.

“Right. And then we’re going try that again and take our good, sweet time about it.”
Now I see Lily a lot more than I used to. And my hair has never looked better.
Ms. Sarah H.,
Memphis, Tennessee

Jonathan took a new position last year with a large national company. The job paid well enough for us to move into a much nicer apartment, but it required him to travel all over the country, often keeping him on the road for a week or more at a time. Our separation was easy enough to deal with during the day, when my teaching career kept me happily busy, but the hours alone at evening’s end would find me restless and bored. Time seemed to drag by with nothing to hold my interest, and nights without him would often find me sleepless.

All of that changed one Sunday evening last month when Jonathan was in Seattle; he always left on Sunday when traveling to be on site bright and early Monday morning. I had dropped him off at the airport that afternoon and stopped at a bookstore on my way home. Once home, I put on a pot of tea, and was just sitting down with a new novel to read when there was a knock at the door.

“Would you have a hammer? I just moved in down the hall, and I want to hang some pictures. Oh, I’m Emily,” she said, offering her hand.

I’d never met another woman in my life that affected me the way she did. Emily was blonde with green eyes and full, pouty lips. Her succulent figure was clad in a pair of faded jeans and an old white linen shirt that could barely contain her voluptuous breasts. Jonathan would have gone out of his mind at the sight of her; she literally oozed sex appeal. I invited her in for tea, and we chatted for a few minutes. She was a journalist for a local newspaper, extremely bright and well spoken. After finding her a hammer, I insisted that she join me for dinner that evening when she’d finished decorating.

Emily returned just after seven. I opened a bottle of wine, and we snacked on some cheese and crackers while we waited for the roast I’d put in the oven an hour before.

“Oh, my God, you can cook, lady!” Emily proclaimed after dinner.

Conversation came very easily. We polished off the wine and commiserated; I poured out my lonely heart, explaining my husband’s regular and frequent absences, and she told me of her dating woes.

“A toast to the Horny Women’s Club,” I quipped, raising my glass. I was already so besotted with this beautiful creature that I felt compelled to connect with her in some way. I reached across the table to give her hand an affectionate squeeze. I felt flushed and intoxicated when we touched. My hand lingered, the eye contact between us lasting a precious few seconds before she looked away and I withdrew my hand, my fingers sliding over hers.

“It’s late. I better be going,” she said softly as she rose to leave. I told my new friend that I hoped to see her again, and then walked her to the door.

Emily showed up the next evening, smiling at me through the peephole and holding up the hammer she’d borrowed. We spent almost every night of the following week eating and drinking together. On Thursday, as both of us reclined on my living room sofa with a second bottle of wine, the conversation turned to sex.

“God, I miss it so,” she said. “I miss the contact and the affection, and on top of that I’m just plain horny!” Feeling empowered by the wine, I boldly asked if she’d ever made love to a woman. She turned immediately red, but admitted to kissing her roommate in college. “That was as close as I got,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Her boyfriend chose that moment to pay a visit. He knocked on the door just as we’d started making out—spooked us completely. We never tried it again.”

I couldn’t keep my voice from quaking. “Have you ever thought about what might have happened if her boyfriend hadn’t interrupted?”

Emily was now looking at me in a much different way. “Oh, I think I can guess what would have happened,” she said sexily. “What about you—have you ever?”

I replied that I’d always been a bit curious, but never found the right person.
Emily looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushed. “I have to tell you something,” she said. “Remember when you touched my hand last week, the night I moved in?”
“Yes?” I was breathless.

She looked nervous. “Well, I haven’t been able to think of anything else.” Once again there was a definite sense of excitement as our eyes locked, and I could feel my nipples stiffening underneath my dress.

We moved closer together. Emily’s eyes shone like emeralds infused with candle flames, and I felt her hand trembling as she touched my cheek. There was no turning back now, and I pressed my lips against hers, smelling her skin, and tasting her plum lipstick. Our lip-lock was gentle, tentative, and absolutely erotic. I kissed her again, the tips of my fingers finding the back of her neck.

Emily released a tiny moan, and our necking grew more passionate. Her body was warm and pliant against mine, and I let my fingers plunge into her hair. Before long, her tongue was at my lips, and I met it with my own. My growing lust was getting the better of me, and I crushed her to me, leaning forward to press her back along the length of the sofa. My hands moved of their own volition over the curves of her body. She gasped as I palmed her breasts through her sweater, and I moved on top of her to kiss her once more.

I hadn’t meant to be so aggressive, but I had such desire for her! I felt her hands going down to the small of my back, and I moaned as they stole underneath my skirt to grab the cheeks of my behind, caressing them through my thin cotton panties.
The heat between our bodies was palpable now. I held her tight, our mouths nipping and sucking at each other, our breasts mashed together, and our legs intertwined. Only our clothes separated us, and I could tell that she wanted them out of the way as much as I did, but neither of us wanted to rush. The anticipation was delicious, and I was having too much fun seducing her.

Her hands were sliding up beneath my blouse, and I trembled as I felt her touch my skin. Goose bumps broke out all over my back as her nails slid along my spine. I sucked on the sweet pucker of her lips, and then my mouth began moving over her chin, down her neck to her collarbone. She gasped, her head going back as she offered me her throat, and I attacked the delicate skin there—kissing, biting, and tasting. Her hands dipped under the back of my panties to caress my flesh directly, and I moaned in response.

I felt like I could not control my hands; they were moving up to plunge under her sweater, and then I was kissing her belly. She was braless, and I let my hands feast on the fullness of her breasts, the nipples already stiff under my fingers. Emily tugged her sweater over her head, and I brought my mouth to hers again as I caressed her full breasts until I could stand it no longer. I rose to my feet and took her by the hand, leading her into the bedroom.

I knelt to unbutton her jeans, sliding them down over her hips and pushing her roughly back onto the bed to pull them off her. I kissed her cute little white ankle socks, before peeling them off as well. I kissed her mound through the white lace of her panties, and she gasped as I slid them down her silken thighs. My blouse went sailing over my head, my skirt and panties dropping to the floor, and then I was on top of her—warm and naked.

I couldn’t control my eagerness. I wanted to devour her, to eat her up and gulp her down. My knee found its way between her legs, and I moaned as I felt her downy pubic hair against my thigh. The heat coming from there was intense, and I dangled my breasts above hers, letting them brush back and forth against each other. This drove us both crazy, and I fell back on top of her, kissing her sensuous mouth again, losing myself in those gorgeous lips.

Emily growled suddenly, rolling me over onto my back with a force I hadn’t expected as she gathered my breasts in her hands. Her mouth darted from one nipple to the other, taking each between her teeth to bite gently, and then sucking them hard. My nipples felt twice as sensitive, sticking out like bullets under her expert manipulation. She couldn’t seem to get enough of my breasts, squeezing them together until the nipples touched, and then sucking both nubs into her mouth at once. It was divine, and I was soon writhing beneath her.

She smiled, then began moving down my belly, pausing at my hips to plant kisses there, before making her way to the insides of my thighs. I was on fire now, my chest rising and falling with my excitement as she drew closer and closer to where I wanted her most.
“Oh, God—yes!” I exclaimed.

I heard a chuckle from between my legs. “This is going to be so much fun!” she murmured, kissing all over my pussy. I was trying to grind up against her face, but she was having none of that. “Slow down, Tina,” she scolded, slapping my thigh. “You be a good girl, and let me play.”

Emily kissed along my slit and flicked her tongue lightly over my button. It was difficult to control myself, but I tried to keep calm and let her make love to me at her own pace. She had amazing instincts as a lover, splaying the first two fingers of each hand along my outer folds while her tongue teased my entrance, poking and probing, but not penetrating. Her fingers rubbed both sides of my pussy, and then spread the inner lips, exposing me completely. She tickled my hole with the tip of her tongue, and then ran it up to brush over my clit, making me gasp.

She did it again and again, and then slipped her finger inside me. I was already soaked with passion—my head thrown back, my hips rising to meet her every touch, every breath another rush of pleasure. She moved her finger in and out, sending waves of sensation coursing through my body. It was getting hard to believe that Emily had never made love to a woman as she guided me to the tip of ecstasy and then held me there, a prisoner of my own frenetic desire.

Her tongue flicked at my clit, taking me to the edge, and then I was falling over it, moaning as spasms of pleasure rocked me.

Emily lay alongside me now, stroking my hair and kissing my forehead. Once I’d caught my breath, I sprang to my knees and took her hands in mine to pull her up. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her with the passion she’d stirred in me. “Bet you taste good,” I whispered, not trusting my voice. I pushed her back and lay on top of her again, loving the softness of her body against mine, especially the warm crush of our breasts. I couldn’t get enough of her mouth, tearing myself away only to let my lust for her run wild.

Reaching a leg over her torso, I straddled her and faced her sex. My own rested against her chest, too far for her to use her mouth, but within reach of her expert fingers. I kissed all over her pretty mound, getting drunk from her scent. My tongue found her folds, and I kissed her there the same way I had kissed her mouth: with fervor and fire.

As I ate her, her hands explored the contours of my behind, her thumbs seeking the outer lips of my pussy. I rubbed the hood of her clit between my fingers, stabbing my outstretched tongue in and out of her hole. I wanted to gobble her up like some decadently rich dessert. When I began flicking my tongue against her clit at a rapid-fire pace, she grunted and came, giving me even more of her honey to lap up.

This brought me right back to a boil, and I sat up, dangling my pussy over her mouth. It took only a moment of her frantic licking and sucking to have me squirming in orgasm and gritting my teeth to keep from screaming.

I was insatiable. I quickly put Emily on all fours, with her head on a downy pillow and her luscious behind pointing north. The sight alone was enough to hypnotize me, and I ran my tongue along her slit to taste her again. In just a minute or two, I had her approaching climax.

Emily moaned in rapture and went over hard, grinding her hips wildly. We fell back on the bed, giggling at the intensity of our lovemaking. When I had calmed down, she had me recline against a pile of pillows and spread my legs. “This is going to make you feel incredible,” she said, looking down at my exposed crotch. Bending to lick at my opening, she poked in her finger and withdrew some of my honey before spreading it around my asshole.

Play with your pussy,” she coaxed, taking my hand and placing it between my legs. Her touch felt delicious, and I toyed with myself gleefully, far too turned on to feel self-conscious. “God, it’s tight,” she rasped, slipping the end of her index finger into my ass.

I worked my clit with increasing abandon. The combination of the two sensations was exquisite, and I was soon panting. When I slid a finger into my pussy, I could feel the pressure of Emily’s finger in my ass. This produced waves of pleasure inside me, and I moaned in appreciation. My asshole soon relaxed, and Emily thrust her finger in and out at will. “Oh, don’t stop!” I cried, my orgasm rushing over me and filling me with pleasure.
“Ooh, baby,” she moaned, “I can feel you squeezing my finger.”

I was nearly sobbing as my body crested, and when the waves of rapture subsided, she withdrew. I fell back onto the bed as though in slow motion. Emily brought her lips to mine, and then we were kissing passionately once again.

I don’t think either of us wanted to stop; being with another woman was too exciting an experience. Our mouths brushed, bit and sucked at each other, and our hands slid down between the other’s legs. Emily was getting frantic. She pivoted on one hip, her legs interlocking with mine. Our bodies scissored, and our pussies pressed together as we worked ourselves into a frenzy. It felt very natural and shockingly erotic at the same time, humping up against this gorgeous girl and moaning as I pressed my cunt against hers. I don’t honestly know how long we stayed like that, or how many orgasms we shared, but we made love until the early morning hours, and fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was the best night’s sleep I’d had since Jonathan had left.

I woke flat on my back with the sun shining in through the curtains. Emily’s head was between the top of my breast and the crook of my shoulder, the sweet tickle of her breath caressing my skin. We stole into the shower holding hands, and kissed under the warm spray. We loved pressing our soapy breasts against each other, and I soon had her against the wall, kneeling before her with her leg draped over my shoulder as I dined on her pussy. A few moments later I was on all fours on the shower floor, the water cascading over my skin. Emily’s tongue was between my upturned butt cheeks, fluttering delicately around my asshole, and I was moaning and coming, squeezing her hand between my thighs. We stayed in the shower for a long time.

I was nervous when Jonathan came home the following week. After we’d first made love, Emily and I had spent every night since at her place. She would be all alone that night, and I would be explaining to my husband what had occurred between us in his absence. I had acted on impulse, without consulting him—but deep down, I suspected he’d be okay with the whole situation.

Fortunately, Jonathan was as turned on by the idea as I’d thought he would be. In fact, by the time I was halfway through relating to him what had happened, I found myself on my back with my ankles behind my ears! Emily and I had already talked, both of us excited at the possibilities of my husband watching us, and even possibly joining us naked in bed.
Emily’s coming over tonight, and I can’t wait to experience my two favorite lovers at the same time. It’ll be the best of both worlds, and I couldn’t be happier.

It was a sticky, late-summer day the last time I lost my manners and acted on impulse.
“I can feel you looking at me, you know,” she said.

We’d waited very late in the day to harvest the blessed green onions that took forever to grow. The later in the day, the cooler it was. The sky was coming down to a nice purplish shade, and when the wind blew, it was almost cool. Almost.
Her ass looked damn near neon in the odd summer light. It was those white shorts; they practically glowed.

“Why do you wear white shorts on a perfect behind if you don’t want me to look?” I grunted once, popped an onion out and tossed it in her basket.

“I like white. And I doubt it’s perfect.” She laughed but kept crawling. Her ass waggled lasciviously at me.
“You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Doing what?”

But she did wiggle on purpose this time, and something in my stomach grew warm, even as my dick grew hard. She did have the most perfect ass. When I looked at it even a beat too long, I didn’t give a shit about onions; I just wanted to fuck.
“That,” I snarled, lunging at her. My heart was pounding; she had me worked up—I admit it. But when her soft tinkling laugh hit my ears, I grinned. “Come on.”

I snagged Marianne around the waist and hauled her to the very corner of our deck. In the shadows was the prized chaise longue. It was the chair we argued over—who would get to use it and when. Tonight, the answer would be both of us.
“Not here,” she said in a unconvincing whisper. Even as the words left her lips, her body was arching up under mine, so she could press her full breasts to my chest. Her pelvis banged mine, and I felt the sudden impact of her body against my hard-on.

I groaned, pressed my forehead against her forehead and said, “Yes, here.” My fingers were already on the button of her shorts, and the only thought that occupied my mind was driving my cock into her wet heat. The feel of her tight pussy closing around me would be the highpoint of this long, stifling day.
“But someone will—”

“No, they won’t.” I cut her off with a kiss. My tongue slipped against hers, and I tasted lemon from her iced tea and that sweet flavor that her mouth always seemed to have. She kissed me back—just as hard, just as needy. I yanked her shorts down roughly, and she wiggled under me to get them down and off. The movement of her body was driving me mad.
“I think someone could and—”

The house directly next to our shadowed makeshift bed was empty. Had been for months. “No one’s in there,” I said, kissing a line down her tank top, pausing only to bite at her hard nipple through the fabric. Marianne gasped, shivered under me, arching up silently and pleading for more. I could definitely oblige her.

I bit the other nipple while grinding out the words, “And the Parkers are out. Baseball game.”
“Oh,” she sighed and I could hear her smiling. “Good.”

“Yes, good,” I agreed, sliding my tongue along the divot of her navel only to lose my cool and go right for the sweet spot. I buried my face between her soft thighs and brought my mouth to her pussy. Her juices filled my mouth, copious and sweet. My tongue nudged her clit over and over, pausing only to suck it every once in a while in order to hear her moan. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to make it hurt. Just enough to make my cock harder than I’d imagined possible. When she came, it was with a rush of warm nectar on my tongue and my name on her lips.

I’d lost all logical thought, so I shoved my hands up under her shirt, and then started kissing whatever skin I could get my lips on. Her hands pulled at me, and her words were nonsense words, but they conveyed pleasure. Marianne’s fingers tangled with mine as we both went for my belt buckle, and finally I uttered, “Let me.”
She put her hands up, as if under arrest. It made me want to fuck her even more.
“Spread your legs,” I ordered, and my heart leapt when she did so instantly.

I manuevered my arms beneath her legs and spread her even further as I nudged her soaking wet slit with the tip of my cock. I moved so that the head of my cock penetrated her and then I just stayed there—watching her squirm delightedly.
She arched her back, pleading with her body, and I gave her another inch. When she cracked and murmured my name, I lost my taste for the game and slid into her with one smooth stroke. Buried balls-deep in her wet slit, I kissed her.
“Lick your juices off my lips,” I said.

Marianne didn’t miss a beat. She dragged her tongue over my lips to gather the sweetness left there. She moaned again, slipping her tongue into my mouth and sweeping it against mine. I started to move, holding her thighs tight.
I felt her squeeze her internal muscles. Her cunt clamped down on my dick as I drove deeper and deeper until my body started to shake from its own strain. I wanted to come, but I wanted it to last. Every time I sank into her pussy, every time my balls slapped against her tight ass, every time she kissed me—I wanted it all to last.
But nothing lasts forever.

Somewhere in the now-full darkness, a bird cried out, and when I rolled my hips from side to side, my wife cried out, too.
I kissed her quiet, simultaneously hoping that no one heard us and that someone did. I wanted them to know we were over here fucking. And that it was good.

Shoving my hands under the ass that had started all this, I tilted Marianne just so to get exactly where I needed to be. I was done, my rhythm a chaotic dance as the chaise longue groaned under our weight and my movement. She sighed again as a tiny, less intense orgasm made her clench around me, and then I was done. I went rigid and still inside her, my release snatching me under and stopping my breath as I emptied into her.
Then it was nothing but a pleased sigh and a deep kiss.

When I rolled to my side and she pressed her head to my shoulder, she said, “I’ll never wear anything but white shorts to garden again. Ever.”

I grinned under the almost full moon. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Mr. Zack P.,
Stamford, Connecticut

For our vacation last year, Fiona and I went on a seven-day Caribbean cruise. Our first stop was St. Thomas. After breakfast onboard, we headed for Megan Bay, one of the most beautiful beaches in the Caribbean. Not only was the beach beautiful, but there were also a number of ladies sunbathing topless, which made the front of my swimsuit stand out. After a few rum drinks and some coaxing, Fiona removed her top and revealed her beautiful breasts.

I figured there were a number of fellow boat passengers at the beach, but I didn’t recognize any right away. Soon a couple of guys strolled over and introduced themselves as Chad and Jack, and said they had the cabin next to ours. Funny, I hadn’t noticed them, but they sure were noticing my wife, which was a turn-on for me.

Back on board, we got some fresh towels and headed for the pool to relax before dinner. After eating, we decided to visit the casino. We played a few hands of blackjack, and eventually headed back to our room. As I watched Fiona strip out of her dress and bra, I couldn’t help thinking about how our male neighbors had been staring at her tits that afternoon.

I’m sure many guys and gals have wondered about having a threesome—or foursome—myself included. I’d mentioned that fact to Fiona on occasion, and she’d confessed her interest as well. However, we’d never encountered a situation where it seemed possible. But given our current one, I thought we might be able to fulfill our fantasies on this cruise with Chad or Jack—or even both of them at once.

“Fiona,” I said as she turned toward me, “what do you say we invite the boys over sometime and see what happens?”
“They are pretty cute. Are you sure you can handle it?”

I thought for a moment. “I really got turned on from the way they stared at your titties, and if they only knew how you like them to be played with. Well, there’s only one way to find out . . . ”
I got so horny talking about this prospect that I grabbed Fiona and told her I loved her. Then we had some great sex.

At breakfast, we decided to spend the afternoon by the pool, because we would be at sea all day. Fiona wore her bikini, and though it was not all that revealing, she did turn some heads. I was proud that my forty-something wife could still do that.
Eventually we noticed that Chad and Jack were relaxing behind us, so we turned our lounge chairs around to face them. We had some idle conversation and found out that they were in their late twenties and from the northeast, one from Boston and the other from a small town in Connecticut. They had met on a cruise four years ago and made a pact to leave their girlfriends at home and go it alone. Fiona asked if they ever got “lucky” on these cruises, and they were more than happy to relate some of their escapades. They were not in monogamous relationships with their girlfriends, and they all had played around. A new generation, I thought to myself.

Fiona then asked if they had gotten any so far and who they had their eye on. Chad told us that they hadn’t, but then he revealed that Fiona would be their first choice. My wife blushed, and then purposely started flirting with them.

After a few more drinks, Chad and Fiona jumped into the pool. Minutes later, I saw him throwing something out of the water. I realized it was Fiona’s bikini top. Apparently, she didn’t care that she was bare on top as she leaned back in the water to smooth back her hair. A number of male passengers applauded, and my wife beamed at their attention.

Following some more horseplay, Fiona eventually climbed out of the pool. She dried herself off and then draped a towel around her neck, letting the ends of it fall over her breasts. When she moved, I could see more than the outline of her shapely tits. I couldn’t believe my wife’s gutsy performance; I had never seen her be so wild and exhibitionistic. I’m guessing the drinks had something to do with it, but I enjoyed the show just the same.

Fiona didn’t bother putting her top on and walked all the way back to our room with the towel around her neck. There was a little hallway separating our cabin from Chad and Jack’s, but the bathrooms butted up against each other and I could almost hear every word being spoken in the other room.

Fiona took her shower first and started dressing as I took my turn in the bathroom. While drying off, I could hear Chad telling Jack how he had copped a feel when he and Fiona were in the pool. He also said he hoped we’d ask them to fuck Fiona. Thoughts started racing through my mind . . . thoughts of them actually fucking my wife.

That night Fiona and I played a little more blackjack, calling it a night when we finally broke even. On the way back to our room, I stopped by the onboard liquor store and bought a bottle rum and some cola for a nightcap. Back in the room, Fiona had already changed and put on a babydoll nightie but had forgone panties. While chatting about what we’d do tomorrow, I heard our neighbors, Chad and Jack, coming into their room.

“Let’s see if they want to have a drink,” I said as I caressed her breast. Fiona nodded excitedly. I picked up the phone and dialed their room. Chad answered, and he readily accepted my invitation.

There was a knock on the door before I even had a chance to move away from the phone. I hollered, “It’s open,” and they came in, eyeing Fiona, who was sitting on one of the twin beds in our room. I went to the dresser, which also served as our bar, and made them each a rum and cola. In the meantime, they sat on either side of my wife.

I handed Fiona her drink first, figuring she might need it to bolster her courage. Then I handed the guys their drinks and proceeded to give Fiona’s breast a squeeze. Chad looked at me curiously, and I gave him a wink. With that, he teasingly dropped my wife’s negligee strap off her shoulder. Fiona didn’t offer any resistance. She merely looked at me, and I smiled back. I took a seat on the opposite bed and watched as—drinks forgotten—they slipped her straps down past her elbows and pulled her babydoll down to her waist. Chad was first to start gently kneading one of her titties, then Jack reach for the other and did the same. Fiona leaned back and enjoyed the attention of her playmates.

I’m sure the guys didn’t want to make any further moves before I gave some sort of a sign of approval. So I got on my knees in front of Fiona, lifted her negligee up and dove in, first kissing her thighs and then working my way to her trimmed pussy. I lapped her slit gently until she started gyrating to encourage me to go at it a little harder. With that, I started sucking on her clit. I looked up and saw the boys were kissing and sucking her beautiful breasts and nipples.

It wasn’t long before Fiona was bucking and moaning rather loudly. When she finally came, I eased off to let her catch her breath, and the guys slowed down their handiwork. Next thing I knew, Chad was getting up and taking off his shorts. He playfully nudged me out of the way. Here comes the moment of truth, I thought to myself as he slowly pushed his dick into Fiona’s slippery cunt. I still had my slacks on, so I quickly removed them, along with my shorts, and took the spot that Chad had previously been sitting in.

As I viewed Chad slowly fucking my wife, I thought that I’d like to capture the moment other than in my mind, so I grabbed the camera off the nightstand and started taking pictures of the three of them. I even crawled across the empty bed to get some shots from the opposite side. After many photos, I returned to a spot on the bed, next to Fiona.

Fiona had slumped down to give Chad better access to her pussy. I knelt next to her and let my dick rub across her nipple. Jack was still caressing and sucking her other breast, and I guess it didn’t bother him that his mouth was so close to my dick. As Chad picked up the pace, I grabbed my cock and guided it into her mouth.

Jack moved back so he could take off his shorts, and in no time, his dick was rubbing the nipple he had been sucking on earlier. Fiona began moaning again, and Chad, sensing that she was about to have her second orgasm, started pumping harder. Fiona let my dick drop out of her mouth and replaced it with Jack’s. I hurried to get the camera again before they came and managed to take a couple of shots of Chad and Fiona’s coming together while Jack pumped his dick in and out of her mouth.

Fiona’s groans of pleasure were followed by soft moaning. Jack pulled his cock out of her mouth, and it was clear that he hadn’t come yet. He moved into Chad’s vacated spot between her thighs, slipping his hard dick into Fiona’s cunt. I hadn’t noticed before, but Jack was considerably larger than Chad and I, but she was so wet and slippery that he slid in easily. He started fucking her, and I crawled back on the bed and put my dick in her mouth, though she was having trouble keeping me there because Jack had quickened the pace of his hips.

Fiona was in ecstasy and started making noises that I’d never heard before. Chad, bless his heart, was taking more pictures. I was at the brink now, and it wasn’t long before I came in my wife’s mouth. A stroke or two later, Jack came and then Fiona climaxed a third time.

Not a lot was said for a time. Jack pulled out of Fiona, reached for his drink, and took a seat next to her. Chad already had his glass, so I retrieved Fiona’s and mine. Once my drink was in hand, I raised it in a toast and thanked the boys for helping us fulfill our fantasy.
Mr. Ted L.,
Richmond, Virginia

“I need it,” I said, over dinner the other night.
Her answer was the same as always. “Okay, I’ll set something up.”
Then back to homemade pizza on focaccia bread and a kick-ass Chianti to wash it down.

It only took her a night to set things up. Kaylee is a looker. She’s tall and lean, with hair the color of wheat that sways down along her back. Her legs seem to go on forever, and her toenails are always painted an unusual color, which adds a bit of intrigue. When she’s naked and there’s nothing on her insanely hot body but navy blue polish on her toes—it adds something.

Kaylee thinks of the little things.

The next night I found myself wedged in the cramped, hot closet while my wife seduced the new guy.
“Are you sure he won’t be home any time soon?” The guy was big and broad, with a shaved head and a goatee. He looked like a biker. Someone who could break your legs without a second thought. Most importantly, though, his cock was hard. I could tell by the way Kaylee stroked her fingers over the front of his jeans.

“Nope. Not for a while. We have time.” She peeled off her little gray dress and shucked off her boots and tights. And then it was just Kaylee, braless and in the smallest excuse for panties I’d ever seen. “So let’s see it.”

It didn’t take him long to oblige, and as he fumbled with his zipper, I examined his hands—big, strong, nicked up at the knuckles. Just the thought of those hands on my wife—holding her steady as he fucked her—was enough to make my stomach go into freefall. I touched myself, stroking my cock slowly to keep the noise level down. The air in my lungs had become a trapped bubble wedged in my throat.

His cock sprang free, and he pushed his jeans down on his hips. No underwear underneath—just a big guy with a big dick, going commando.

Kaylee purred and dropped to her knees as I squeezed my own shaft. The view was almost too pleasant to bear.
Her lips worked up and down the length of him, her kitten-pink tongue darting out to lick his skin. She’d tell me later what he tasted like—salt, cotton, a hint of motor oil and leather. When she took him into her mouth fully, her delicate cheeks straining with the effort, I gave myself another squeeze and let my trapped breath out slowly—as slowly as I could, so he wouldn’t hear through the closet door’s slats. I felt like I might pass out. Briefly, I wondered if I’d come if I did.

He picked her up easily and dropped her on the bed, sprawling his bulk over her and kissing her once. His mouth toured the soft skin I love to worship, kissing a trail from her neck to her belly. Kaylee squirmed, and her hips shot up toward him, anticipating contact. He settled over her mound, kissing her hipbones, and I gave myself another squeeze. In the darkness of the closet, I pawed through the air to finally find what I was seeking: one of her scarves.

I wrapped that length of silk around my cock and started to jerk off, using slow, lazy strokes as the big man ate out my wife. He was noisy and frantic, with his face buried between her legs. I watched him slide a few of his thick fingers into her cunt, and in my mind I could conjure the wet-velvet feel of her wrapping around those fingers.
Kaylee moaned, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from following suit.

My wife’s lover pried her legs farther apart, pressing his mouth to her pussy. I could tell he was thrusting his tongue into her cunt from the way she moved under him. He was driving her wild. When she came, she twisted hunks of our bedsheets in her little fists. Her hips slammed up against his lips.

She reached for him and whispered something. He found a condom on our nightstand and sheathed his cock. It was only a second of waiting before he had one of my wife’s long legs draped over his shoulder as he slid his cock along her damp slit. Even from the closet, I could see he was going to stretch her to the maximum—stuff her full.

Kaylee arched up to take him, to force his hand, so to speak. With a single grunt, he shoved into her, scooting her up along the bed a few inches. She sighed, putting her hands above her head the way I love. Her breasts jutted up and he was on them—lips and tongue and teeth, even as he pressed his big hands down over her thin wrists, pinning her.
The silk slid enticingly along my shaft, and my whole body seemed to ache with the urge to come. When she did—when he did—I would. And then later, I’d fuck my wife.

“God, you’re tight,” he whispered. His voice was loud and gruff, so even a whisper could be heard.
I found myself nodding to no one. She was tight—and always wet. It was amazingly sensual the way her body gripped a driving dick.
“Faster,” Kaylee said. “Deeper.”

He laughed, and I smiled, but the stranger obliged. He draped her other leg over his shoulder and angled her hips just so. Each thrust must have hit the right spot for her because she cried out with every stroke. Her wrists were pinned beneath his hands again, and he was swaying his hips from side to side, grinding into her. His pubic bone, no doubt, was grinding against her clitoris.

“Yes,” she said, nodding, and I nodded, too. My fist dragged the silken scarf up and down my dick, stoking my arousal.
Kaylee bucked up and he drove hard, and then she was coming. Her throat went taut with her cries, her hair dangling and swaying over the edge of the bed. As she came, her eyes shot to me and she smiled. Then the man let out a bellow and went stiff, emptying into my wife. I was powerless to stop myself. After one more long and tortuous stroke, I was spurting into her favorite scarf.

As I watched him pin her to the bed with his girth, it flickered through my mind that I’d have to pay to have the scarf cleaned. That thought made me smile.

In the dark, I fumbled for my phone. After hitting the button that awaited me, I heard her phone jingle on the bedside table.
“Uh-oh, that must be him,” she said. She was a convincing actress. “Yeah, baby, it is.” She was reading a pre-written text from me. “He’s on his way. You’d better bolt.”

It took about three minutes precisely for the guy to get himself together and gone. Kaylee turned to the closet and smiled. “Are you going to come out and show me what a mess you made of yourself, you bad boy?”
I could barely keep from running to her, but I managed, feeling my cock rising once more.

It’s always a pleasure when she obliges me and brings someone home. I don’t need it often, but when I do—I need it bad.
Mr. Thomas F.,
Arlington, Texas

The last time our attraction had a chance to spark into an encounter was when we closed up the restaurant after a big holiday weekend.

“You wanna grab some linens from the storage space? There are two things left on the list. Swap out the linens and grab new candles for the tables. I’ll get the candles.” His eyes tracked over me for an instant, and I swore I actually felt his gaze on my skin.

“Sure, give me the heavy lugging.”
He shrugged his big shoulders and grinned. “We can swap. You go into that nook behind the office where all the spiders live and I’ll—”

“Fine! Fine!” I said, laughing. He was right. The storage area was kept impeccably clean because of the linens, so it was the most spider-free job on the list.

I could still feel him looking at me as I moved, and knowing he was staring at me had caused a steady pounding pulse in my stomach and my cunt. I was hoping upon hope that we would somehow collide that night—coming out of the deal with an orgasm each and maybe the urge to grab a beer together.

Somehow I never broached the subject, though. I preferred to hope and let these encounters manifest on their own.
The linens, as usual, had been put in the wrong place by the restaurant’s day crew. When I bent to dig them out from the boxes under one of the spare tables, Mack’s hands clamped down on my waist.
“I saw you looking at me,” he said, his voice heavy with lust.

It was hard to breathe, hard to swallow, but very easy to shiver—trapped there in his grip as I was. I said nothing.
“I can tell when you need it,” Mack said. He gripped my stretchy black skirt and yanked it down. The white tails of my work blouse fluttered around my waist. His hands found the top of my black tights and the tearing sound of severing nylon hit my ears. My pussy flooded with arousal. But that wasn’t where he’d be going. Not there.
I only nodded in response. Yes, I did need it. Yes, this was good.

Mack’s fingers tickled along my spine, then smoothed in a deceivingly gentle line along my lower back. He cupped my ass and leaned in to whisper in my ear.
“Do you need it? Am I right?”
I’d have to say it.

“I need it,” I managed, though my voice was choppy and weak from excitement.
“Need what?”

“You to fuck me,” I whispered, hoping I’d pass—hoping he’d let me be a touch coy.
“Is that it?”

I shook my head. I knew that in order to get what I wanted, I had to say it. “I need you to fuck my ass.”
“Such a nice thing to hear,” Mack said, bending me forward. My arms found a home on the spare round-top in front of me. I pushed my ass back to tempt him, to woo him—to invite him.

His fingers slipped inside my pussy, and he thrust deep, nudging my G-spot and the moist depths of my cunt. Then his cock followed where his fingers had been, plunging easily into my sheath as his wet fingers drove into my back hole. I moaned, hung my head, held my breath—he was priming me. He was getting me where I wanted to be, so he could then take me where I needed to go.

My hair slid along the tabletop, and my fingers traced trails in the dust. His cock slammed me forward, so that my toes were barely touching the floor. Mack’s fingernails dug almost painfully into the meat of my hips, the roughness making my pussy clench up tight around him.

“Feels like someone’s turned on,” he said, pulling free of me quickly and making me sigh.
He slid his fingers in and out of my ass, stretching me and making me ache for him. My cunt clutched up around nothing, and I whimpered.

“Hold on, sweetheart. Just a minute more.” He added another finger to my back hole, triggering that sweet sting of penetration. My body gave itself over to his ministrations, and I gripped the edge of the table as he pulled out and lined up the head of his cock with my back hole. Then he moved slowly and torturously, entering me with just the glans and making me pant with need.

“Good?”
I nodded. I had no words to give him.
“More?”
Another nod.

Mack pressed forward, an insistent force probing my body and stretching me taut. My free hand found its way to my mound, and I simply pressed. The added pressure made his intrusion all the sweeter.

“Did I say you could do that?” he asked, slapping my asscheek once, hard enough that I felt blood rush to the surface of my skin.
“No,” I gasped.

Another inch and then another, before he was finally in me balls-deep, and we both paused to breathe. His stillness became maddening, and another whimper popped out of me. I could feel my cunt pounding to the same beat as my heart.
“I know. Just a second . . . ” And then he was moving. Slow and steady at first, taking great care to not hurt me—until I was ready. When I began to tremble—and it didn’t take long—Mack wound my long, auburn hair around his fist and tugged. Just hard enough to snap my head back, just hard enough to make my nipples peak painfully hard inside my pristine white linen blouse.

“I want you to come,” he said, yanking again.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Hard.” Another yank.
“Yes,” I practically begged.

His dark brown eyes bored into me as I caught his glance in my peripheral vision. My head held tight by his grip on my hair, I could barely see him. But I could see him enough to understand that gaze. “You may touch yourself.”

I almost babbled with relief as his thrusts became more demanding, more possessive. My fingers swept shaky circles around my clit, and my whole body went tight with anticipation. I shoved a few fingers into my greedy pussy, pressing the heel of my hand against my thumping clit.

“Harder,” he growled. He could feel my fingers against his cock through that thin barrier of skin that separated my cunt and ass.

I thrust my fingers in deeper. “Oh,” was all I said as I hovered there on the edge, waiting.
“Come,” he commanded, and then I did, my body shaking with the effort of not screaming my orgasm to the ceiling. This was a secret. This was illicit. That made it so much better.

He slammed into me hard enough to rap my hips against the edge of the table. With a rough growl he came, his big body pinning me in place.

Then he chuckled, kissed the back of my neck, and pulled free. “You up for a beer?”
My knees were shaking, as were my hands. “I am.”
“One day we might have to take this act of ours into the real world. You know, as in a date.”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “Maybe,” I said. “But not yet.”

“You like the secret,” he said, turning from me. It wasn’t a question.
I liked the secret.
Ms. Lucy G.,
Lawrence, Kansas

Then, as fate would have it, I met Kenny. He was a good friend of a coworker who started meeting us for after-work drinks, and he was very vocal about his bisexual proclivities. One night, after everyone else had left the bar and I was a little buzzed from one beer too many, I decided this was finally my chance to ask what it was like to suck off another guy. Though my voice cracked when I asked him, he seemed perfectly comfortable—and somewhat amused—about my choice of conversation and asked what exactly I wanted to know.

“You know, how it feels,” I reiterated, and as he began describing the sensation of wrapping your lips around another man’s dick, I felt my own organ start to stiffen. A flush rose to my cheeks as he continued, explaining how heavy a shaft could feel on your tongue, and how salty and slippery pre-come was. I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable and hoping my friend wouldn’t notice my hard-on, but my motion brought my aroused state to his eagle-eyed attention.

“Do you want to try it?” he asked, a mischievous look in his eye and a smile playing at his mouth. I said no at first, but the more I thought about it, the more intrigued I became, and the harder my cock got. I was obviously turned on by the prospect of learning about fellatio firsthand, and I was also turned on by Kenny, who I have to admit is a good-looking guy. In fact, I was sort of flattered that he’d want to fool around with me, so I decided to go for it.

Neither of us lived nearby, so we went to my office, which was a few blocks away. It was late, so even the after-hours cleaners had come and gone, making me pretty certain that no one would bother us. I took him to my cubicle, where he immediately pressed his body against mine and gave my bulge a firm squeeze. Then, to my surprise, he kissed me, which I hadn’t even considered, but I have to say I enjoyed it. His lips were rougher than a woman’s, and he took charge, thrusting his tongue between my teeth and running it over the insides of my cheeks. I found myself moaning loudly, a noise that was swallowed by his mouth. It was a welcome change to surrender to someone in that way. It was the first of many new experiences that I would savor.

We kissed for a while longer, and I hooked my arms around his waist, realizing this wasn’t much different than being with a member of the opposite sex. He wrapped his arms around my neck, and after sucking my tongue for a while, put his hands on my head and started pushing me downward. I followed his lead until I was on my knees as he unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. His erection sprang right up, and for a moment, I regarded it warily, uncertain of what to do next. Then I thought about all the blowjobs of which I’d been on the receiving end, so I closed my eyes, stuck out my tongue and swiped at the pre-come perched on the tip of his crown.

Kenny moaned, so I did it again, noticing how his erection bobbed from my reach, so I grasped him at his root to hold him steady. I wrapped my mouth around his crown and sucked. More of his salty fluids flooded my tongue and I swallowed, amazed at how easily they glided down my throat, like I’d been sucking cock for years. That encouraged me, so breathing in through my nose, I began sliding my lips downward, feeling the throbbing of his shaft as I consumed it.

At the halfway mark, I reminded myself to relax, and the remainder of his length went down easily. “You’re a natural,” Kenny murmured, and my lips stretched as I smiled around his girth. I began bobbing my head, feeling his shaft seem to swell as my pace increased. Soon I was not just sucking him but also swishing my tongue back and forth against the underside of his rigid staff. “Oh, yeah,” he moaned, so I worked harder, even mustering the courage to reach up and squeeze his pendulous balls. His sac felt velvety, much like mine, and like when someone manipulates my balls, that little bit of stimulation sent him into the stratosphere.

Once again, his prick pulsed against my tongue, but more intensely this time. My friend gave a choked cry as hot cream shot into my mouth. It frothed from my lips until I remembered myself and tightened them. I started swallowing, gulping down shot after shot of his ample load, until finally there was only a little left. It oozed down my throat as his dick started to soften, which is when he extracted himself from my lips, pulled me up and said, “Your turn.”

I couldn’t get out of my pants fast enough. My hard-on was ready for some action, and I waited for Kenny to kneel. But he surprised me by saying, “I want you to fuck me.” I paused, unsure of this new wrinkle.

It wasn’t like I’d never had anal sex—I’d fucked plenty of chicks in the ass. After considering it, I didn’t see how fucking Kenny would be very different, and the aching in my balls told me that I had to decide soon. So I agreed, and he handed me a lubricated condom that I unrolled onto my shaft as he turned around to bend over my desk.

Grasping his asscheeks, I spread them and aimed my cockhead at his hole. When I had it lined up perfectly, I touched it to the tight crimp of muscle, which gave way immediately. Kenny was obviously no anal amateur, and I let out a sigh of satisfaction and relief as I slid into this foreign, yet familiar, territory.

His canal closed around my shaft, creating a snug fit. I rested there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of his inner walls spasming around my dick, which was like getting a light massage from within. Then my friend grunted and bucked back against me, so I grabbed his hips and pulled back my length until only my crown was still lodged inside him.

Instinct took over, and I dug my fingers into his sides as I started sawing in and out of his asshole. Each time I plunged inward, my balls bounced against his upper thighs, raising my excitement a little more. He started rocking his hips in the same cadence I was using to drive myself into him, meeting my body each time I pierced his clutching hole. He started gasping, and I peered around his body to see that his cock had regained its full length and now stuck out straight from beneath his belly. “Jerk it,” I grunted in his ear, feeling my own climax looming and wanting us to get off together.

Kenny nodded, sweat dripping from his brow as he wrapped his fingers around his impressive erection and began to stroke himself rapidly. Luckily, the condom he’d given me had been sufficiently greased, allowing me to continue fucking him at a similar speed and not miss a beat.

It grew hotter in my cubicle, and the scents of our sex and the sounds of our pleasure also filled the small space. My internal temperature was also rising, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I climaxed. The sensations were so intense that I shut my eyes to immerse myself in them.

Suddenly, Kenny shouted, announcing his orgasm. Seconds later, my own come shot through my shaft to explode through the tiny slit in the tip of my crown.

I wrapped my arms tightly around Kenny’s waist and pulled him flush against me, so his butt cheeks stayed glued to my pelvis as I filled the condom with my load. He moaned at the hot fusillade, and that first volley was quickly followed by another, this blast even more generous than the first. This whole experience had been way more extraordinary than I ever would have guessed—and I remained buried in his ass until I felt my energy start to fade.

I pulled out of Kenny and we cleaned up, then we got dressed and left the office. Since that night, I’ve run into him a few times at happy hour, and we’ve even occasionally fucked. For the most part, I still consider myself a straight guy who likes girls, but sometimes it’s nice to choose something from the other side of the menu.

Mr. Mark W.,
Cherry Hill, New Jersey

“Go for it, man,” a guy shouted as he drifted by in the crowd.

The encouragement from a stranger made what I was doing that much better. I yanked her back toward me, with her skirt still flipped up. Pushing my cock to the split of her ass and feeling her heat, I groaned.

The crowd carried us along, but as we moved past a narrow alleyway, I tugged her into the opening. “Come here.”
I knelt, dragging her panties down with me as I went. Now under her frilly little skirt she was bare. Completely.
“Oooh, nice,” a passing woman said, eyeing us as she drifted by the opening to our little den of iniquity. The stranger curtsied drunkenly and went on her way.

“People will see,” Olivia said, not sounding too terribly upset. “People are seeing.”
I pushed up the front of her skirt, baring her snatch. I buried my face between her legs, licking her so that her thighs shivered around my face. I really didn’t care who saw us. I didn’t care at all. I wanted to taste her on my tongue and lick her clean, and then turn her toward that fence and fuck her from behind. Rarely was I impatient, but in this instance I was beyond impatient. I was frantic.

I shrugged at her false protests and latched on to her fully, licking and sucking her slit until she sighed mightily and shoved her fingers into my hair. I pushed two fingers into her cunt and curled them, feeling her internal heat clench greedily around my fingers. A man paused to hang in the alley’s entryway.
“You only live once! Mardi Gras, baby!” And then he was gone.

But Olivia came. A rich rush of her juices flooded my mouth. It had been him seeing her that way—him seeing us together in a way we’d only been alone, just the two of us. All of that had added to her pleasure, breaking her at that last moment, and making her come.
I fucking loved it.

A few new watchers lingered in the street, observing us. I pretended they weren’t there, though my heart was pounding away knowing that they were.

I turned her around and flipped up her skirt again, then kicked her legs aside a bit roughly. She trembled against my body, and I smiled. “Put your hands up on the fence,” I said. I could talk softer away from the crowd.

She pressed her hands to the weathered wood, her wedding band gleaming in a streak of fading sunlight. To have her obey me was a bigger turn-on than the eyes observing our activities. I plunged a finger into Olivia’s sweet cunt, and she moaned, pressing her cheek to the fence. She didn’t seem to care anymore who might be watching.

She pushed her ass back at me, inviting me in, but I wanted a few more minutes to torture the heat of her soaking-wet cunt. I added another finger and then a third, nudging them against her G-spot. In the entryway to the alley, someone spoke. The sound made my dick jerk in my pants, but I went on about my business, pretending I didn’t hear it.

I plunged my fingers deeper and pressed my thumb against her back hole, hard enough to make her go taut against the fence. I shoved my fingers into her once more, and she came again, urged on by the people who’d gathered around us.
Out on the street, the crowd continued to flow past. The music boomed, and the shouts of the crowd were still gregarious and loud.

I yanked at my belt and bared my cock, as my wife remained pressed to the wooden fence. Her whimpers went right to my gut—and my balls. Every sound she uttered made me more urgent to fuck her. It seemed impossible, but every small cry proved me wrong.

“Hurry,” she said. Her fingers danced along the splintered slats, aimlessly roaming across the wood.
We had a nice group of viewers now. They were clogging the entryway to what I thought of stingily as our alley.
Sliding the tip of my cock along her asscrack, I made her wait. I made her tremble. I made her beg.
“Please, hurry!”

“Hurry,” a watcher said. It sounded like a man, but I wasn’t sure. With all the noise going on, it was hard to tell.
Pushing just the tip of my cock into her, I leaned down to lick the back of her neck. Olivia sobbed, and I slid into her a bit farther, just another inch to give her what she needed. Under me, she tried to force herself back and stuff herself full of my cock. I laughed in her ear, and withdrew a bit more.
Another sob.

“Are you having a nice vacation?”

“Yes,” she blurted, nodding madly so that her soft brown hair swept against the fence.
I slid into her again—just that inch, but this time she sighed.
“Do you like them watching?”

As I asked, it seemed I could hear them all breathing. All four or five, or however many people we’d accumulated.
“Fuck yes,” she admitted.

And there it was—she had broken me. I was powerless to do anything then but move. So I did, rearing back enough to see her frilly skirt barely concealing where we were joined. I held her curvy hips in my hands and started to seriously fuck her. My thrusts were desperate and deep, my eyes never straying to the watchers. But I could feel them there, taking it all in.
I pushed a finger into Olivia’s ass, and someone in the crowd gasped. That sound made it hard for me to hang on, but I didn’t need to last much longer. Olivia cried out, coming yet again. It thrilled me to get three orgasms out of her when I normally only got one. Two if I was lucky.

Feeling her pussy milk me, rippling around me in hot, wet waves, I gave in and came. I thrust in deeply, emptying into her with a blissful moan.

When I started to put myself back together and Olivia let her skirt fall, our audience moved on. One departing man tossed us a wave and said, “Good show!”

I kissed her, roughly. “I think we might need to come back next year.”
“I think we might,” she agreed.

We never did make it back there, but this year we hope to. There’s a crowd we need to get lost in, and an alleyway with our names on it.
Mr. Marcus R.,
Decatur, Alabama

I wasn’t the only one to turn my head at the word, and immediately the women lowered their voices. I moved closer. The woman who had initially spoken was one of my neighbors, and she was talking to her friend in line at the deli. I could overhear delicious tidbits of the conversation, enough to know that a party they’d had on Saturday had taken a turn for the debauched—enough to go home to Gregory and say, “We didn’t get an invitation to the orgy.”
“There was an orgy?”

“Yeah. At Charlene’s house.” I felt pouty. Why were we never on the guest list for parties like that? We always heard about them after the fact. Gregory says it’s because people think we’re more conservative than we actually are. Just because you don’t wear your fetishes on your sleeve doesn’t mean you don’t have erotic desires like everyone else.
“Well, you know what we have to do,” Gregory said, looking at me.
“Feel left out?” I asked. “Mope?”
“Stage our own.”

Why had that never occurred to me? Since we first moved to this small town four years ago, I’d been trying so hard to be accepted by the different locals. I’d volunteered. I’d joined various clubs. But I still felt as if I were on the outskirts. Gregory didn’t care as much. He’s never been as social as I am. So why did he have the idea to host a party and not me?
I decided to do exactly what he said. But first we needed to plan who we’d want to attend an orgy in our home.

“Not that it will necessarily happen that way,” I said. “I mean, how can you go up to your friends and neighbors and say, ‘Do you want to come to our house to fuck?’”
“Find out who was at Charlene’s.”

So I did. I went to my pretty neighbor uninvited one afternoon with a loaf of freshly baked zucchini bread.
“Oh, how lovely,” she said, obviously surprised to see me on her doorstep. “Would you like to come in and have a slice?”
My plan had worked—at least, stage one. I’d been in her house a few times—a garden club tour, a neighborhood block-party meeting—but this was the only time I’d ever been in alone. For the first few minutes, I admired her belongings,
complimenting her collection of ceramic dogs and spoons from faraway places. And then I took a deep breath and said, “Greg and I are having a party this weekend, and we’d like to invite you and Dirk.”

“Oh, how lovely,” she said again, but her eyes looked disinterested.
“We’re hoping to get naked in the backyard and have crazy, orgy sex.”
That stopped her. She had begun to cut the bread into slices, and her hand hovered uselessly for a moment over the loaf.
“Excuse me?”

I decided to go for the gold. All or nothing. Full-court press. “I heard what you said in line at the deli,” I confessed. “And we want to host our own.”
“Your own?”
“Orgy.”

She set the knife down and reached to open the nearest cabinet. While I watched, she pulled out a bottle of cognac and poured us each a glass. Then she took my hand and led me to her fancy sitting room. My heart was pounding in my chest.
“Really?” she said, after taking a sip. “I would never have thought you and Greg would be interested in something like that.” She looked so proper sitting there that I couldn’t actually believe we were having this conversation—or that it was occurring in such a civilized fashion. When I relayed the story to Greg later on, I’d have to make sure to tell him that she sipped her cognac with a pinkie lifted.

“Greg thinks that people nail us as conservatives,” I said, “because we’re both fairly shy. But we like to get wild as much as the next couple. Or we’d like to.”

She laughed. “I don’t know about that. We’re the next couple—based on our houses anyway. And Dirk and I have been part of a group of swingers for quite a long time.”

My heart was pounding so loudly, I wondered if she could hear it. When I drank my cognac, the glass chattered against my teeth. Who would have thought when Greg and I moved from the big city that we’d find ourselves in a swinger community? My pussy was wet at the concept.

She said, “You’re a bit flushed, hon. Do you want to take off your sweater?”
It wasn’t a cardigan. I had nothing but my bra on beneath it. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Charlene was the perfect hostess.

“Let’s do this,” she said. “You call Greg up and tell him to come over here right now, and I’ll do the same with Dirk. He’s only at our friend’s house around the corner helping him with a weed whacker.”

I did just what she said, then settled back down on the settee again. I think we talked about what her orgy had been like, and I know she told me about how she and Dirk were active swingers, but all I could think was: Wow, this is really happening. This is actually about to happen! We’re going to have an orgy!

In minutes, both Dirk and Greg had arrived. My man had some clue of what was going on. Dirk looked more confused. Charlene took him to the kitchen, while I said to Greg, “She wanted me to get comfortable, to take off my sweater. She and Dirk are swingers.” He kissed me then, and I could feel that his cock was hard.

“How far do you want to go?” I asked him, just to make sure we’d be on the same page.
“I’m game for anything you want,” he said. We’d talked about this fantasy for years, but had never acted on it. Now was the time.

Dirk and Charlene came back into the room. They both were smiling. Dirk handed Greg a beer and said, “Charlene tells me that you want to host an orgy.” It was as if he needed to check to make sure nobody was pulling his leg. I looked at him—really looked at him for the first time. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, and he’d been working in the hot sun. He was handsome in a rugged way, and I thought to myself that he was going to be fucking me. Soon. That made me weak in the knees.

Greg nodded. “We’ve talked about playing with another couple forever. But we never found the right people. You know, people we were comfortable with.”

“Oh, you can be comfortable with us,” Charlene said, and I thought of one of the previous times I’d been in her house. She was the epitome of the perfect hostess. So gracious. So caring. And now she was walking toward my husband and starting to unbutton his shirt. My pussy was dripping.

“I think I need a shower,” Dirk said, and I felt sad that Charlene and Greg were going to start while I had to wait, but then he gripped my hand and added,
“Would you like to join me?”

I looked at Greg, who nodded his approval, and I followed Dirk down the hall. “I’ve watched you,” he said as we walked. “When you’re out in the garden, pruning your roses. You’re such a pretty girl. I had no idea you would be into playing like this.”

I hoped my voice wouldn’t shake when I spoke, and I was pleased to hear I sounded at least somewhat normal. “What did you want to do when you watched me?” I asked.

We’d reached the master bedroom, all white shag rug and walls of mirrors. I imagined Dirk fucking Charlene in the big bed in the center of the room. They would be able to see themselves in multiple mirrors. The thought gave me a little sexy jolt. Dirk started to undress, and I drank in his sublime body. He was taller than my husband, who is six feet—and built like a bull rider. His cock was long and already hard. I went on my knees on the shag before I could stop myself and licked him from crown to base.

“Pretty lady,” he said, lifting me back up. “I need that shower first.”
But I couldn’t wait. I put my hand out, gripping his dick, and he laughed. His voice was low and sexy. “You’re a greedy thing. I can see that. I always thought you might be, if someone only gave you permission. But I’m going to take that shower.” He removed my hand and headed to the bathroom.
I stripped and followed.

The master bathroom was as large as our bedroom. There was a huge sunken tub along one wall and a giant glassed-in shower against another. By the time I entered, Dirk was already soaping himself beneath the steamy spray. I got between him and the water and he began to wash me with his big, strong hands. My pussy was so, so wet. I kept hoping he’d run the bar of soap between my legs, but he seemed dedicated to my breasts. He lathered them up and then took the shower­head off its perch and sprayed away the foam and bubbles. Then he bent and began to kiss and lick my sensitive nipples. My legs were trembling, and I backed up against the cool, tiled wall.

“Turn around,” Dirk said, and I did without hesitation, pressing my body against the wall. He still had the shower­head in his hand, and he ran the spray along the line of my spine, and then lower, between my asscheeks.

I sucked in my breath at the intrusion. The warm spray tickled my asshole. Dirk said, “Hold your cheeks open for me.”
I was all about the experience now. There was no way I wouldn’t obey, even if I felt slightly embarrassed by exposing my backdoor to our neighbor. When I did what he said, he began to change the pressure on the showerhead, so the massaging action of the water really stimulated my tender hole.

Dirk seemed to be paying careful attention to the way I reacted. I arched my hips and got a wider stance on the wet floor, giving him the best access I could. I’d never felt anything so deliciously dirty before. Dirk teased me with the spray for several minutes before re-hanging the showerhead and spinning me back around.

He pressed his lips to my neck beneath the spray and ran his cock against my body. He was so tall; there was no way we could do it face-to-face, I thought. But then he lifted me easily in his arms and pinned me up against the smooth wall. In seconds, his cock was inside me, and I had my legs wrapped tightly around his body.

“You feel so good,” he said as he worked me. “So sweet and tight. I want to fuck you every which way.”
“Tell me,” I begged. “Tell me how.”

“See, you are greedy.” He was using his hands to lift me up and set me back down on his stiff cock, over and over, impaling me on that beast of a rod. Suddenly, I wondered if Greg had begun fucking Charlene—and I realized with a jolt that I wasn’t jealous at all. I was merely curious, interested in knowing whether my husband was balls-deep in my new friend the way her man was in me.

“I’ll tell you,” Dirk said, bringing me back to him again. “I’m going to make you come right now, and then I’m going to take you to the bedroom and fuck that tight asshole of yours. I can see that you like being played with back there.”
“You’re so big,” I whispered, trying to imagine how his cock would squeeze into my rear hole.

“Yeah,” he nodded in agreement, “but we’ll find a way.” As he spoke the words, he set me back down on the floor and spun me once more beneath the spray. I was facing the bedroom now, but I could not make out anything through the steamy glass. Yet I thought I heard voices.

Dirk slid into me from behind, and he took one of my hands and placed my fingertips between my legs. “Touch yourself while I fuck you.”

I obeyed immediately, still staring through the foggy glass. Were Gregory and Charlene in the bedroom now? Did I hear her tinkling laughter? Dirk sped up the rhythm, and I closed my eyes and felt the climax building within me. I rubbed my clit harder and faster to match the way he was fucking me, and in seconds I was coming. I didn’t have to say anything to Dirk—he could tell. “That’s right,” he said softly. “You come for me, girlie. You come hard.” I groaned under my breath as he slammed his cock inside me, and then pulled out and shot all over my ass. I felt as if I were still coming as he moved me to rinse the semen off my body, then turned off the water and held the shower door for me.

Yes, I definitely had heard noises in the other room. As Dirk handed me a large, white towel, I saw through the doorway the bed reflected in their wall-to-wall mirrors. I wrapped the towel around my body and headed into the room to find Gregory and Charlene in a sixty-nine on the center of that big, California King.

“We got the big bed for a reason,” Dirk said to me. He seemed to be happy to find his wife with her lips around my husband’s cock. I wasn’t unhappy, but the image was startling. And very sexy. I moved closer, wanting to watch as Charlene really went to work on Greg’s rod. My husband was busy, as well, his mouth planted between her thighs, licking and sucking at her pussy.

Dirk was behind me, pulling the towel from my body, lifting me onto the bed so we were right next to our partners. “Some people like to swing separately,” Dirk said. Charlene removed her mouth from Greg’s cock and her husband kissed her. A little electric thrill ran through me. I took that moment to lean over and replace Charlene’s mouth with my own. So now I was sucking on Greg’s cock, he was working Charlene’s split, and our neighbors were necking. I wondered what would happen next.

Dirk took control. He pulled me back so that my attention was on him once more, and he said, “We’ve been swinging since before we got married. Along with your more traditional vows, we vowed our relationship would never get old. I can’t tell you what it does to me to watch her fuck another man.”

At his words, Greg moved Charlene on the bed. He got her doggy-style so she was facing their wall of mirrors, and he positioned himself behind her.

“Let Charlene eat your pussy,” Dirk said. “She likes that.”
This was not the time to hesitate, so I shimmied my body in front of Charlene. Giving me a little wink, she bent down and began to lick and lap at my pussy.

Oh, sweet ecstasy! She really knew her way around a clit. While Greg began pounding into her from behind, Charlene used the very tip of her tongue to trace in concentric circles around my clitoris. But after a few rings, she leaned her head up and asked, “What did you two do in the shower?” It was obvious she wanted me to describe the sensation of her husband fucking me.

I took a deep breath, met Greg’s eyes, and said, “Dirk washed me all over with the spray.”
“Love that spray,” Charlene said. “You ought to have Dirk come over and install one of those heads in your shower. Tell me more. I like to hear.”

I nodded, trying to stay sane while she resumed her naughty rotations. Dirk was next to me, touching my breasts, pinching my nipples. I felt so well cared for that I wanted to give Charlene the pleasure she craved.
“Dirk used that nozzle between my legs,” I said, and I blushed.
“She’s so sweet, isn’t she?” Dirk asked Charlene. “So shy.”
“More,” she said, and her lips were shiny with my juices.

“He used it between my asscheeks,” I said, and my cheeks must have gone fuchsia because both she and her man laughed.

“Dirk likes the ass sex,” she said with a giggle. He slapped her on her ass when she said that, and then Greg groaned. I could only imagine that Charlene had tightened her pussy in response to the spank.

“What did he say he was going to do to you?” Charlene whispered. And then I remembered, and I looked up at Dirk, wide-eyed, as he spread the towel on the bed next to Charlene and Greg. I watched as he pulled a bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer, and I started to come.

“Oh, she’s ready,” Charlene said, looking at her husband. “She’s ready for you, honey.”

The next few seconds were a blur. Dirk positioned me on my stomach, and he lubed my asshole with his fingers, really working the liquid into my backdoor. Greg and I had tried anal before, but not often, and obviously not with anyone else watching.

“I’ll go slow,” he said, as he pressed the head of his big cock against my rear hole. Charlene held my hands and kissed my face. That made it easier as Dirk began to work his rod inside me.

Greg was watching me, still fucking Charlene, nice and slow, but every so often he smacked her ass the way her husband had, and she mewed with pleasure.

“You like it?” Dirk asked me, his voice was husky. “You like this?”
“Yes,” I told him, breathless with excitement. “Yeah, I do.”

“You ready for more?” He’d been going so slowly, inch by inch, and I nodded, and then he thrust. I couldn’t believe I was taking all of his big dick up my ass, but I did. And I couldn’t believe how good that felt to be stuffed so full. He rocked into me a few times, then added a river of more lube and continued the ride. Greg began to fuck his partner faster and smack her ass faster, and I watched in awe as she came. My husband followed a beat later, pulling out to shoot all over her pretty pink bottom. As soon as he climaxed, Charlene was in motion, surprising me by sliding under me to resume licking my clit once more.

Her husband was fucking my asshole while she wrapped her lips around my clit and sucked in fast pulses. I stared at Greg, overcome with the awareness of what we were doing, and I let myself go. I came hard on her tongue and his cock, crying out, feeling freer than I ever had in my life.

Greg looked at me in awe, and then Charlene was in his arms, kissing him so he could taste my juices on her glistening lips. Dirk came last, filling my ass with his come, groaning at the power of his release.

I was in shock for a moment, I think. I just collapsed onto the big bed, feeling as if I might wake up from an amazing x-rated dream at any moment, and hoping like hell that I wouldn’t.

Charlene brought me back to reality by leading me to the bathroom for a long soak in her deep tub. She showed me how to use the jets in the tub to get off, and we climaxed in tandem while our men rinsed off in their huge shower.

When we were dressed once more and somewhat presentable, we went to dinner as a foursome. Charlene leaned over and said, “I never explained how to properly stage an orgy,” and I saw the couple at the next table crane their heads. “We’ll have to have you over to dinner tomorrow,” she smiled at me, “so we can continue the lesson.”

“I’ll bring dessert,” I promised.
“You’ll be dessert,” my husband said with a smile.