Bromfield's Temptations Ch. 08

Synopsis: Jim's having second thoughts about his impulsive agreeing to become a partner in Satin Studios, mainly because of two strangers, men with many gangster characteristics who had attended Jim's first board meeting.

Carol gave him his first assignment. He (and Bette) were to recruit another attractive couple to join the Satin Studio swing parties. They have invited Sandra and Jeff to dinner.

*****

After returning with the drinks -- wine for Sandy, a liqueur for Jeff, and highballs for Bette and me -- I pulled a footstool next to Sandy's chair. We held hands, enjoying our closeness, while Jeff and Bette became reacquainted. It looked as if my treatment had worked, because Jeff was looking at Bette as if he had never before seen a female of the species. She, on the other hand, probably remembering my account of his foray into bisexuality, seemed determined to convert him forever to the ranks of devoted heterosexuals. It was almost funny.

She gave him the full treatment, guided by the same instinct that had prodded Louise. I smiled, thinking how things had come a full circle. Still, it was exciting to watch her skirt "accidentally" fall open to reveal a narrow strip of white skin above the stocking top on her left thigh. Jeff couldn't seem to make up his mind whether to watch her skirt or her beautifully tempting breasts so openly revealed under her dress.

I chatted with Sandy. She looked good. Except for her brief miniskirt, she was dressed more modestly than Bette, and I wondered if she were wearing panties. Her face was innocent of makeup except for a touch of lipstick. She lacked the lush sexuality that Bette projected, but her beautiful silvery blonde hair perfectly framed her lovely face. I never tired of watching her classic beauty.

We told the Morrisons about our weekend at Satin Studios, deliberately omitting, by unspoken agreement, any mention of Louise and Phil's new careers as movie stars. Sandy's eyes never left my face as we described the studio and my role in it.

I wasn't surprised by Jeff's reaction. Although he seemed mesmerized by Bette's tiny figure, he asked, "You mean in a group scene, anything goes?"

I nodded. "Just about," I said. I told them about the orgy and a rampant cock that had seemed determined to pillage my mouth while Corrine was conferring the same favor on me. I'm not proud of it, but it showed my state of mind when I mentioned that incident as a cynical attempt to appeal to Jeff's latent interest in bisexuality.

Frankly, I was afraid that if we were entirely candid, Jeff's conservative streak might cause him to balk. However, I also felt that if we were once able to persuade them to sample the sexual smorgasbord we had enjoyed over the weekend, it would be safe to lay our cards on the table.

We extended Steve and Carol's invitation. "I don't know," Sandy said, "what about the baby?"

Jeff said, "What about my mother?"

Sandy looked doubtfully at Jeff. "Do you think it would be fair to ask her again, so soon?"

Jeff laughed. His eyes now fixed on Bette's spectacular bosom, he said, "Jeffie is her only grandson. She loves to look after him."

"Well, we could try it, I guess," Sandy said doubtfully.

Bette spoke up. "Why don't you freshen our drinks, Jim. I'm going to put on a CD."

When I came back into the living room with a tray of drinks, the lights had been dimmed. Bette and Jeff were slow dancing to Blue Moon while Sandy stood in the doorway watching.

When I appeared, she invitingly held open her arms. I put the tray down and gathering her to me, kissed her properly, and began to sway in time with the music.

"It's good to see you again," I whispered.

She answered by squirming against me. We moved slowly in time to the music. "Doesn't this remind you of something?" she murmured into my neck.

"Sure does. Look over my shoulder when we turn."

I slowly turned so my back was to Bette and Jeff. I felt Sandy stiffen. "My God!"

I swung back to take another look myself. Jeff, was a husky young fellow. He had to be. Bette, her dress bunched up around her waist, was riding him, her arms around his neck, her slender ankles locked securely behind his back.

I couldn't be sure in the dim light, but it looked as if they had discovered a new coital position.

I felt a familiar stirring in the front of my pants. "I've danced enough," I said, "how about you?"

"Dancing is very tiring," Sandy said dryly, "I need to lie down." I was instantly reminded of a joke which I repeated to her. "Do you know why Ashcroft is so opposed to vertical sex?" "No. Why?" "It might lead to dancing."

I led Sandy into the bedroom. Once inside, I turned on the bedside lamp, and began to slip out of my clothes. As always, Sandy was magnificent as she crossed her hands on the hem of her blouse and lifted it over her head. That typically feminine movement never fails to arouse me.

She stepped out of her skirt, and slipped her panties down her long, slender legs. I stood by the bed waiting. She came into my arms, and we held each other tightly for a moment, her pointed little breasts drilling into my chest, my turgescent cock returning the compliment to her silken belly.

"This feels so good, so right," she murmured. We kissed again, this time passionately. She worked her mouth against mine, and I felt the tip of her tongue work its way between my lips.

"I've missed you, Jim," she said.

"And I, you," I said. "Let's do this more often."

She wiggled her belly against me as an answer. I backed up a step and, still holding her tight, fell backwards on the bed, taking her with me. At that moment, I was very much in love with her.

We reveled in the smooth, warm, sliding feeling of our mutual embrace. "I never want to let go," I said, breathing deeply of her exotic chemistry.

"Neither do I," she said, "but you're going to have to if you want to put that thing where it belongs."

Women are very practical about such matters. I rolled us over, and kissed her again.

With Sandy, I always wanted to make love, while, with most women, even with Bette much of the time, I wanted only sex. There's a hell of a difference.

I caressed her as carefully and as lovingly as I had on our first night, many months ago. I approached her womanhood reverently, and gently slid my wet tongue up and down her crease until she impatiently pulled my face up tight against her body.

"I'm ready, Jim. Are you just stalling?"

"I'll show you who's stalling," I said as I reared between her spread legs, my sword aimed for the center of her triangle. I held it in my right hand and rubbed it up and down her slit, which slowly opened to me like an unfolding flower.

"Easy does it," she warned me, as I began working myself into her.

Suddenly she exploded! Her back arched, her eyes rolled back and she began to shake. "Ohhhhhhhh, my GOD!" she whispered.

I clung to her, trying to smother her tremors with my body. Gradually, her quivering slowed, then stopped. She managed a weak grin.

"God, for a minute, you scared me there," I said, enormously relieved that she was all right.

"It scared me, too," she said. "I've never come like that before in my life. I thought I was dying."

We lay together like that. I remained deeply imbedded in her, while I stroked her hair, and marveled at the lovely curve of her cheek.

She grinned at me. "Feel that?" she asked. She was using her vaginal muscles to milk me.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" I asked.

"I read an article about it in Cosmo," she said.

I thought the evening was over, but she wasn't ready to give up. I had softened considerably, but now, with the stimulation I was getting, I had a new lease on life. I began to move gently inside her.

She closed her eyes. "Ummmmmm, that's nice."

My member thought so too. I began moving faster.

Sandy raised her legs to give me a better angle. My manhood suddenly took charge, and I began plunging into her with all my strength.

I was supporting my upper body on my hands, watching my cock appear and disappear. Sandy took her legs off my shoulders.

"Hold me tight, Jim," she said breathlessly through clenched teeth, locking her arms and legs tightly around my body. Then she began to heave and roll, shiver and shake. I felt ripple after ripple pass through her body. Those spasms seemingly continued for five minutes or more. I had stopped moving, and hugged her trembling body tightly against mine.

She relaxed her grip on me and took a deep shuddery breath. "God, I'm pooped," she said. "I'm finished."

Then she looked at me in sudden concern. "But you didn't come, did you?" She paused, then continued, "I'm sorry, Jim. I just can't screw any more tonight. I could suck you off, though. Would you like that?"

Does a bear shit in the woods?

Then I looked at her again, and I remembered how exciting it had been for me to watch Barb masturbate. "How would you like to just watch me play with myself?" I asked. "You could even help if you wanted to."

She propped herself up on an elbow. "Do you do that often?" she asked, as I began rubbing my foreskin back and forth over the head of my rock-like penis.

"It depends on how I happen to be feeling at the moment," I said.

She intently watched my hand massage my cock. "Does your hand feel like a vagina?"

"There is no such thing as `a woman's vagina'," I replied. "All women are different. No woman ever reminded me of another. Kiss me."

I was lying on my back. She rubbed her breasts against my stomach and sucked my nipple into her mouth. Ah, she remembered.

When she carefully ran her hand under my member and cupped my scrotum. "That feels good," I said. I closed my eyes. My hand was moving faster now, and my tumescence was growing. Suddenly I felt her warm, wet mouth and lips stretch over it.

"Um, that tastes good." She had tasted my precome.

"I want you to come in my mouth. Will you?"

I didn't answer. The pressures were building in my loins. She realized I was getting close, and again I felt her mouth engulf my glans. Her tongue touched that wonderfully tender spot at the base of the head, and suddenly, I erupted.

I'm sure I would have spattered semen on the walls had she not taken what seemed like a cupful of my seed in her mouth.

I watched her swallow. "Will this give me pimples or make my hair fall out?" she asked, as she continued swallowing.

"I've got to go get a drink of water," she said, and she ran into the bathroom.

I half expected to hear her retching in the toilet. Instead, I heard the sink faucet turn on, and the musical clink as she set the glass down. She came back into the bedroom, a shy smile on her face.

"I really liked that, Jim. I liked the excitement of making you come and I even liked the taste -- it's sort of like swallowing snot at first -- but after I realized I was swallowing several million little Jims, it went down pretty easily. I'm going to have to practice this!"

I watched her in amazement. Who could have guessed she was a natural swinger? Or that she would become a fellatrix who begged me to come in her mouth. What will she do next? That question, as things turned out, was extraordinarily prescient.

I gave her a mighty squeeze and said, "Let's see how Jeff and Bette are making out."

We walked into the darkened hallway. I heard Bette moaning in the living room. She and Jeff were locked together on the rug. Bette was on her knees, face down on a pillow from the couch. Her butt, still framed by her garter belt, in the air. Jeff had mounted her and was fucking her, dog fashion. It seemed as if they still had a way to go, so Sandy and I went into the kitchen and I mixed a couple of drinks. "This will get the taste out of your mouth," I said.

"But I don't want the taste out of my mouth," she said. "I like the taste of the stuff. Do all men taste the same?"

I shrugged. We took our drinks back into the living room and sat cuddled up on the couch, watching Jeff and Bette. Jeff apparently had come while we were in the kitchen, because he was slowing down. Bette, on the other hand, was slamming her quivering butt back against him with increasing enthusiasm, as if she could supply what he was losing.

She pushed back too strenuously, pushing him off balance, and they fell in a pile on the floor. Jeff almost immediately went into the bathroom.

Bette was lying on her back, her eyes closed, her fingers buried in her mysterious delta. Sandy licked her lips, and slid down on the floor next to her. "Hey, let me do that," she said.

Bette obligingly took her hand away and opened her legs, as Sandy said, "I've wanted to taste these ever since I saw them," and she sucked one of Bette's breasts into her mouth while her right hand began to stroke and pet Bette's labia and mons.

Bette opened her legs wider. "Put your fingers in me," she whispered.

Sandy took her mouth from Bette's breast. "You're all dry down there," she said, an obvious and blatant lie, "Let me get it wet."

Not waiting for an answer, she slid the length of Bette's compact little body, and began stroking her opening with her tongue.

"Oh, what a pretty little pussy," she said. "Can you open your pussy for me? Just a little? Just so I can get the tiny tip of my horny little tongue inside?"

Listening to Sandy, I began to get a little hard, myself. But I was content for the moment merely to watch. Sandy kept whispering and breathing on Bette's labia, and by God, it did begin to open.

I swear, that girl could raise an erection on a statue. As Bette's vagina opened, Sandy's tongue slipped in, deeper and deeper. I could tell when it touched Bette's clit by the way she jumped.

I was half hard by this time. I was so caught up in the little drama unfolding at my feet that I scarcely noticed when Jeff sat next to me. "We've got good seats for the show," he said.

I nodded.

Then he said, "Do you mind?" The next thing I knew, he had his hand on my member.

I started to say "yes," but then I thought what an asset this pair would be at the studio. Besides, to be honest, his hand felt good as he squeezed and rubbed my genitals.

"That feels good," I said.

"I've got one, too," he said pointedly. Christ, the things I have to do! I thought wryly. But I reached over and grabbed his spear.

"Hey! Not so rough!" he said.

"Sorry," I said with great insincerity.

I began to stroke and pet his tool. He had an immediate erection. I mean, a hard one. The kind old men and young women will kill for.

I lost track of what was going on at our feet, but when I glanced down, I saw that Sandy and Bette were on their sides in a `69' position, each with her head wedged between her partner's thighs.

"Do you mind if I kiss it a little?" Jeff was talking to me again. While I was pulling myself away from the steamy scene before us and trying to focus on his question, he moved down on the couch, and his head was suddenly over my lap. I felt my cock slide into a long, deep, hot, wet cavern. He had me in his throat, and was swal- lowing almost continually.

It felt strange, but damn good, except I didn't care for the whisker burn I was getting on my thigh. His hand slipped between my legs and he cupped my scrotum, briefly, then moved back to my rectum. Suddenly, his middle finger slipped inside, and he began massaging my prostate while he milked me.

I was distracted by the women. Bette came first, her cries muffled by Sandra's opening jammed hard against her mouth. Bette did something to Sandy; maybe she bit her labia. But Sandy yelped in pain and suddenly began coming. I don't know where she kept it, but this was her third major orgasm of the evening.

Even Bette was impressed. She had swung around and was holding Sandy, now, petting her and loving her while Sandy shook and vibrated.

Jeff had released my member so he could watch the fireworks, too.

"Does Sandy go off like this all the time?" I asked.

"Sometimes," Jeff said, "but mostly just since we started swinging with you guys." Then he took my member in his mouth again.

I could have told him it was no use. Despite his best efforts, the poor tired little thing continued to shrink, and finally he gave up. He turned to me. "Jerk me off, will you, Jim?"

Sure, what the hell?

He rolled over on the couch so I could reached his cock. I began stroking it with my right hand and massaging his balls with my left. His eyes were closed, and he began humping up against my hand. He lacked a foreskin, poor guy, and my hand was dry against his skin. He needed lubrication.

What the hell? I leaned over and took his member in my mouth. Not for the first time, as his hot knob swelled my cheeks, I marvelled at the satiny texture of penis skin.

I was dimly aware of Bette's awed voice. "I never thought I'd see . . ."

Meanwhile, I pumped Jeff's stalk briskly with my right hand while I squeezed his balls and rolled them in their wrinkled hairy sack. I felt his hands grip my head, moving it up and down. I also heard him moan his ecstacy, his gratitude.

I felt his urethra contract, and moved my head just in time to avoid getting spattered in the face.

Then it was my turn to go into the bathroom. When I came out, Jeff and Sandy were sitting close together on the couch, their bare thighs touching, as they shared a glass of wine. I wanted something stronger, so I went into the kitchen and fixed myself a drink.

When I came out of the kitchen, I heard Sandy say, "But didn't you feel a little inhibited in front of those strangers?"

I knew Bette must have been describing her experience as the schoolmarm on the first evening at the studio. I was also interested in hearing Bette's answer.

"Frankly, I never thought about it. Well, that's not strictly true. I love to show off, and this seemed a perfect opportunity. Besides, Carol reminded me just how good 18 year-old cock can be. The last time I had one, I was only 16, much too young to appreciate it."

Sandy looked quizzical. "Do you suppose they will be there next week?" she asked. Bette shrugged.

"I'm not sure," I said, "but knowing Steve, if not, they will have someone else just as interesting."

Sandy looked at Jeff. "What do you think, sport? Should we give it a shot?"

Jeff looked at me and grinned. "Right now, I'd follow these guys anywhere. Sure. Let's go."

The Morrisons left soon after, and we went to bed.

The next week passed quickly. I spent a great deal of time rescheduling my appointments and court dates to free up Thursdays and Fridays. Old Betsy Ridder, the Clerk's deputy -- I think the place must have been built around her -- said, as I selected new hearing dates, "You fellows are retiring younger and younger."

She was a good sort. I smiled. "Not exactly retiring, Betsy. I've been appointed house counsel for a combination porno studio, sex ranch and whorehouse."

As I expected, Betsy burst into laughter at such a preposterous idea. She covered her mouth and ran to tell the other women what that funny Mr. Bromfield had just said.

Bette talked to Sandy during the week. They agreed that we should take two cars. The Morrisons could follow us to the studio. I left the office early on Friday and arrived home in mid-afternoon. Sandy had already delivered their baby to Jeff's mother, and the Morrisons were in the living room with Bette, nervously waiting for me. I kissed both women and shook hands with Jeff. Bette was wearing a white knit minidress with a low scoop neckline, while Sandy was dressed more formally in a black cocktail dress. Jeff was wearing a sport jacket over a knit shirt and slacks.

I quickly showered, donned a similar outfit, and returned to the living room. "Are we set?"

Everyone stood and filed out. I picked up our overnight bag, and followed the crowd to the elevator. We arrived at the studio shortly before dark. A half dozen cars were already parked by the barn. We stood waiting for the Morrisons.