tagNovels and NovellasBromfield's Temptations Ch. 03

Bromfield's Temptations Ch. 03

bysealawyer©

Chapter 3 -- Bromfield's Temptations

A Real Swap


I reached for the little woman. She came easily, even eagerly, into my arms and raised her pouty mouth for a warm, wet, open-mouthed kiss. I hugged her close, my partly erect cock pressing into her soft belly. She squirmed against it. Then she pulled her head back, and looking up at me she said softly, "Hi."

"Do you want to stay here, or should we go in the other room?" I asked.

With a final glance at the crouch where my wife was enthusiastically risking death by strangulation with that monstrous tool in her throat, Bette took my hand. "Lead the way," she said. "I want to get com fortable."

I led her to our bedroom. Thinking there was a chance one or both of us might be using it before the evening was over, Louise had thoughtfully turned the bed down.

Recognizing the significance of that hospitable act, Bette smiled. "Your wife thinks ahead, doesn't she?"

"We try to be prepared." I gently drew her down so we were sitting on the bed. After turning her head, I brought my lips firmly in contact with hers while my left hand softly massaged her breast through her dress.

She grinned at me. "Don't you think we're a little overdressed for this?"

I tried to unbutton her dress with my left hand, but her buttons were those decorative kind that are a bitch to undo. She reluctantly broke our kiss and stood up.

"I can do this better," she said. She swiftly went down the row of buttons. Before I had my shirt off, she was standing in front of me in her bra and half slip.

I started to unbuckle my belt. "Wait," she said. "Let me do that."

I stood patiently while she released my belt, unsnapped my waist band, and drew my zipper down. My pants fell around my ankles. She paid no attention, but instead, gave my shorts a gentle tug, releasing my erection. She stroked it tenderly. "You have a beautiful thing," she said softly.

I sat down and reached around behind her to release her bra. Her firm, ripe young breasts sprang to full attention. "And you have the most beautiful breasts," I said reverently. This was indeed true. Her breasts were so firm and full that her nipples actually tilted up.

She stood between my knees. I took a nipple gently between my teeth, and touched my tongue to its tip. "Brrr," she said. "That gives me goose bumps!"

She wasn't kidding. I saw them on her arms. I slowly pulled her half slip down. I expected to see panty hose, but instead, she was wearing sheer lacy panties over a garter belt and stockings. She smiled shyly at me when she saw my obvious pleasure at the sight. "Louise isn't the only one who thinks ahead," she said, to my considerable surprise. I started to unsnap her stockings, but she stopped me. "Let's leave them on. I like the feel of nylon when I have a man between my legs."

I touched a nipple with the tip of my tongue while I slid her panties down her slender legs, lightly brushing her soft skin with my fingernails as I did so.

Hoping to raise more goose bumps, I continued to tease the skin on her thighs with feather-like touches and trace light patterns on her skin, while my eyes feasted on the beautiful symmetry of her nearly perfect little body.

Bette wasn't interested in posing. She threw her arms wide and almost literally jumped at me. She pushed me off balance, and we rolled together on the bed. Suddenly, the games were over. I was on my back. She reared over me, and her hot little mouth closed over mine, while her right hand stroked my manhood. I felt those firm breasts boring into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her as tightly against me as I could. By this time, I was feeling like a teenager myself.

At that moment, as I cuddled her delightfully warm, smooth little body, I adored her. After a few min utes, I began to gently caress her soft skin. Her face was buried in my neck. "That tickles," she said.

"Good. How does this feel?" I ran my finger down the crack of her ass.

Abruptly, she reared back. In the dim light, I saw her face above mine, framed by her heavy mane. "You're not an anal man, are you?" she demanded.

"Hell no," I said as convincingly as I could. "I'm a just a people person." Pulling her tiny frame down to me again, I rolled us over, so I was on top, but taking care to keep my weight on my elbows. I blew gently in her ear and nuzzled into her throat, licking that tender place just below her ear. All the while, I tickled the palm of my hand with the tips of her nipples.

She sighed, "That feels good, Jim."

"Play with my nipples," I said. "They're sensitive, too."

"I didn't know that," she said. "Are all men like that?"

"Some men may think it's not manly, but I think most of us like to have our nipples sucked and played with," I said. "We just don't like to ask for it."

"What else can I do?" she asked.

"Just relax, sweetheart," I said. By this time, I was gently nudging my chin into that ticklish zone inside her hip bones, while I continued to caress her sides and thighs. I blew gently into her belly button.

Continuing my southern migration, I reached her thighs. She kept her legs tight together. I tried to nuzzle my face between them.

"Don't," she said sharply. "That's dirty!"

Never stopping my soft caressing, I worked my way back north, and after making a brief detour as I kissed her breasts again, I returned to her ear, and began nibbling on her earlobe while I stroked her mons with my right hand. She relaxed a bit. After moistening my finger, I rested it on the tight little slit between her legs, moving it ever so gently and slightly. I kept nibbling and rubbing, and gradually her knees fell apart. I wet my finger again, and touched her clitoris.

"That feels good, Jim. Can you get it in a little deeper?"

I wet that damned finger for the fourth or fifth time, and began working it in and out of her. I hoped that her natural lubrication would begin moistening her channel. I know she was enjoying my finger because her breathing had begun to quicken. Also, she began rubbing my cock with increasing intensity.

My mouth watered as I thought of that delectable crease between her legs. "I don't care if it's dirty or not," I whispered in her ear, "it helps me if you'll just let me kiss it a little."

That was a different story. If I needed a little something extra to get me going, she was hesitant but willing to be a good sport about it. "OK," she said, "but don't say I didn't warn you!"

Not wanting to give her time to reconsider, I quickly slid down in the bed so my mouth was where my finger had been.

I lightly traced the fold between her nether lips with the tip of my tongue. She shuddered, but didn't say anything. Then I closed my lips around her labia, and gently pressed it against my upper teeth.

She trembled again. I thought I felt the muscles in her thighs begin to relax. Taking a chance, I touched the tip of my tongue to her clitoris. She jumped. I waited to see if she was going to stop me. She settled back and her legs opened wider.

It had been a slow start, but I was soon making up for lost time as I alternately sucked her clit and plunged my tongue as deep as I could into her secret place. By this time, she had raised her legs to give me complete access to her sex, and I was making the most of it. Her womanhood was wonderfully sweet.

I lost count of the times she came before she finally pushed my face away. "Stop, Jim. I can't take any more. I'm getting sore. I want you inside me now."

I quickly hunched myself up and she pulled her knees up to her chest. "Phil likes me this way," she said. "He says it gives him a target to shoot at."

Her swollen, reddened, wet sex made an inviting target, but I wasn't Phil. "Put your legs down and bend your knees." I slid into the warm cradle she offered and felt her little hand guiding my straining cock into her hot, pulsing belly.

I met almost no resistance as I thrust myself into her little body. "Oh, this is wonderful," she sighed.

I pulled back, then slid deep into her a second time. She responded by going crazy. Using her bent legs for leverage, she tilted her pelvis back and lifted her body to meet me as I tried to get fancy and probe for her "G" spot. She reciprocated by wrapping her legs around my waist, lifting herself from the bed, and swinging her body back and forth, up and down, as if trying to milk the greatest possible sensation from my tortured cock.

Neither of us made much noise. All I heard was the steady creaking of the bed and the dull slapping sound my scrotum made when it hit her bottom. I looked down and watched myself slide in and out of her sex.

She raised her head. "Put a pillow under my ass and my head," she said. "I want to watch, too."

She wrapped her arms around my neck, and raised her head and shoulders, while I jammed a pillow behind her head. Then, her legs still locked around my waist, she hunched her lower body up, and without missing a stroke, I stuffed a pillow under her bottom.

If this position was uncomfortable, she didn't complain. She watched my sword slide in and out with great interest. "I've never seen this before," she said.

Although her new U shape restricted her motions, I found it exciting to watch her watch herself. Suddenly she stiffened. I felt it coming as the great muscles in her thighs began to tremble. Her stomach muscles started to undulate. The veins in her throat stood out, and her face flushed. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she began to shudder great, violent tremors. Her head went back and a great gasp of air exploded from her lungs.

A pair of giant tongs gripped me across the small of my back and squeezed. My surging manhood seemingly grew another six inches as I rammed it, again and again, as deep inside her as was physically possible.

Wave after wave of seed spurted into her straining little body. I gasped for air and fell to one side of her. A great wave of love washed over me, and I tenderly kissed the corner of her mouth, while I hugged her close to me.

She opened her eyes and grinned. "Well, now you know it's true." Seeing my puzzled expression, she said, "You know what they say, `big girl, big cunt, little girl, all cunt.' Say hello to cunt."

I was bothered by her self-deprecating tone. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" I asked.

She failed to respond. Instead, she said, "I think we've been away from the party long enough. Let's get our pants on and go see what Phil and Louise are up to."

I said, "OK, but first . . ." I drew her into another tight embrace. She threw her arms around me. Silently, we hugged one another as tightly as possible for at least a minute, then parted. She quickly stepped into her slip and her dress. "I can stuff the rest of this stuff in my purse." She paused, then looked impishly at me out of the corner of her eye. "It won't be the first time."

Bette was full of surprises.

We stepped into the hall, and quietly walked to the living room. Other than Louise's blouse and a pile of clothing I assumed was Phil's, there were no signs of our respective spouses. I turned to Bette. "Do you suppose they've eloped?"

She surprised me. "God, I hope so," she said fervently. She wasn't kidding.

"I'll bet they're in the spare bedroom," I said. "Want to have a look?"

She shrugged. "Why not?"

The bedroom door was closed. Ignoring a pang of conscience, I cracked it open and peeked inside.

The lamp on the night table was on, enabling us to see Louise and Phil on the bed. Phil was lying on his back, his arm across his eyes. Louise was tirelessly playing with his limp member. Even soft, the differ ence between Phil's equipment and that of ordinary mortals was striking. Louise was trying to breathe life into the poor thing.

Quietly, I closed the door and went back to the living room. I pulled Bette down on the couch next to me, tilted her head up, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. "I feel kind of funny about checking up on them," I said.

Bette opened her eyes. "Why?"

I explained that Louise and I had developed a few common sense rules regarding our swinging activities. Those rules primarily involved respecting one another's space. I had breached one of those rules when I opened the door into the back bedroom. If Louise had wanted me to see her trying to breath life back into Phil, she wouldn't have closed the door.

Betty said, "Wow, I never dreamed swinging could be so complicated. It gets confusing, doesn't it?"

At that moment, neither of us could have imagined how complicated our arrangements were soon to be come. Instead, I looked speculatively at Bette. "They're not in a hurry. Why should we be?"

"Because it's getting late and I'm tired," Bette said in an abrupt change of mood. "I really need to go to bed."

I started to leer, then realized she was serious. "Why don't you go in and lie down?" I said. "I'll call you when the party is over."

Bette stood. "Thanks," she said. She bent over and kissed the tip of my nose. "See you in a while."

While I sat there in the semi-darkness waiting for something to happen, I thought about the evening just past. It occurred to me that had I not succumbed so quickly to Bette's luscious little body, but had remained just a few minutes longer behind the camcorder while Louise was lighting Phil's fuse, I might have recorded for posterity an act similar to those reputedly performed by Mexican girls with donkeys many years ago in Tijuana.

Then I thought about the way our relationship with the Morrisons was developing; almost like a group marriage. It was wonderful having such a close relationship, but it still wasn't enough. That's why we had seduced Bette and Phil Cox. Cox. I smiled as I reflected on his name. It fit.

I failed at first to hear Louise and Phil come into the room. Phil sidled over to his clothes, while Louise summoned me into the kitchen.

I felt a cold foreboding as I looked into her troubled eyes. She didn't pull any punches. "Jim, I know this doesn't make sense, but I need to go home with Phil."

I felt a sudden jolt as if I had been kicked in the stomach. "Why? . . . What? . . ."

"I can't explain it," she said unhappily, "and I don't think it's permanent. It's just that I have to do this, Jim. Please say you understand!"

"I sure as hell don't understand," I said coldly and unsympathetically. "You find some guy who is hung like an Army mule, and right away, you become a disciple. Where's the swinger I married?"

"Well, I don't understand it either. But he's willing to trade Bette for me for a few days . . ."

"Has anybody thought about what Bette wants?" I asked, as sarcastically as I could.

"Why don't you ask her?"

Louise and I swiveled around. Bette stood in the doorway, yawning. "What's going on?"

"Phil and Louise . . ." I started, but Louise cut me off. I had caught my breath by now, and something in the way she held her head told me to be very careful in the next few minutes. I shut up and let Louise explain.

"Bette, something very strange has happened to Phil and me. I don't understand it, so I can't explain it, but somehow, I feel a powerful compulsion to be with Phil. Phil seems to feel that way, too. Is it even remotely possible that you could be happy staying here with Jim for a few days until we can get this craziness out of our systems? What do you think?"

I was astonished. Louise was pleading with Bette! I had never before heard her use that tone of voice.

Bette's lips thinned. She marched into the living room. Louise continued to beg for my understanding with her eyes, while we listened to Bette discuss the problem with her husband. "You dumb bastard," she began, "what is this about you and that woman wanting to run off?" She paused. Strain as we would, we couldn't hear his response. "Well, if that's the way you want it . . ." More mumbling. "No, I don't know where I'll stay. I haven't been invited."

I started to move into the other room, but Louise put her hand on my arm. "Let them work it out," she said. "You and I need to talk. I love you, Jim. I don't love Phil. I'll be honest about it. Right now I feel powerfully infatuated with his equipment, if that's possible. He seems to be equally excited because I can take it all. Can you believe this was the first time he has ever fully penetrated a woman? I know this can't last," she paused and a trace of her old impish grin briefly touched her lips, "but it will be a hell of a ride while it's going on."

She touched my hand and looked me full in the face. "If you can give me this, Jim, I'll make it up to you somehow. I swear to God I will."

"Go get packed," I said gruffly. She left the kitchen and I went into the living room. Bette and Phil turned to me. None of us could think of anything to say. Finally, I broke the ice. "Louise is packing."

Phil muttered something about seeing if he could help, and left the room. Bette came to stand in front of me. "WOW!" she said.

"Double wow," I feebly responded.

"Well, now what?" she asked.

"Looks like we've been traded," I said.

"I mean, are we going to shack-up?" practical little Bette insisted.

"How would you feel about that?" I asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "How about you?"

"Same with me. Do you squeeze your toothpaste tube? Crumple or fold your toilet paper? There are lots of things about you that I don't know!"

Bette smiled wanly. "I'm glad you've got a sense of humor, Jim," she said. "I think we're going to need it."

Louise and Phil came out carrying two overnight bags and an armload of clothes on hangers. I shook my head. "This doesn't look like a weekend, Louise."

"Please be patient," she said. "We'll get through this somehow!"

She reached up and kissed me quickly, then followed Phil out the door, closing it behind her.

"I could use a drink," I said.

"Me, too," Bette said. "Where do you keep the booze? I've got to start working for my keep."

"You start tomorrow," I said firmly. "Tonight, you're a guest." I got up and poured two stiff drinks.

I stayed home from the office the next morning, and tried to explain the nature of my relationship with Louise. It was more difficult than I had expected.

She understood swinging only in the context of old fashioned `wife swapping.' The concept of an open marriage such as we had was entirely alien to her. I tried to explain, "It's like this, our relationship is based on the idea that we are both fallible human beings. That means that neither of us judges nor condemns the other, no matter what happens." I paused, then went on. "I almost blew it last night when Louise said she wanted to leave with Phil."

I went on, "Ours is what some folks would call an `open' marriage. We are free to date others if we want to. As a courtesy, we usually tell each other when we've been over the fence; in fact I find it exciting when she tells me about picking someone up and what they did. Do you understand that?"

Bette's eyes were shining. "Why can't everyone live like that?" she said, half to herself.

The phone rang. I picked it up, expecting to hear Louise tell me she wanted to come home. It was Sandy. "This is a surprise," she said. "What are you doing home?"

At least Bette was spared the embarrassment of having to explain that she had been traded. I told Sandy what had happened. Then I described Phil's equipment.

"I knew there was a reason I loved the guy," she said.

"Sandy, this isn't funny."

"I'm sorry," she said, "of course it isn't. It's scary. If it can happen to a person as level headed as Lou ise . . ." her voice trailed off. "So you and Bette are camping together. Well, well. I told you there was more to that gal, et cetera, et cetera. Should we come over this evening?"

"Let me talk to Bette. I'll get back to you, Sandy, and thanks for asking."

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