Jill & Tim's Story Ch. 06

Lest you wonder .. Tim and Nell enjoyed the experience so much that, some weeks later, we had another of our kinky parties at which Larry's and my mates were the surprise (to them, anyway) centerpiece. This time, we waited until everyone was there, and then led our two victims in from the bedroom .. their wrists tied to their sides at the waist and blindfolds securely in place, neither of them having been told who was attending the gathering. Again, they were thrown to the mercy of the crowd .. with no idea, until the next afternoon, when they saw the videotape we'd shot, of who'd done what to whom and how.

No matter what we’re in the mood to do, it's about reached the point where we have someone with whom to do it, someone who greets the suggestion with enthusiasm .. and who usually has a few exciting suggestions of their own.

* * *

We've kept our correspondence and photo exchange to a minimum, preferring to concentrate on just a few quality people rather than a wholesale effort. Quality, not quantity, is not only more satisfying, but it's safer, too. Right now, we have six couples -- about all we can do justice to -- scattered around in Orlando, San Diego, Lincoln, Toledo, Memphis and Huntington, West Virginia. This list tends to change as one of our corresponding couples will just "peter out;" it’s, unfortunately, the nature of the hobby.

In fact, only one couple has stayed constant, Alyce and Alvin. Both in their thirties, most of their tastes coincide with ours; their temperaments, devotion to each other, their love of the kinky and exhibitionistic likewise agree with our own.

They’re a handsome couple: Alvin is 6'2" of muscle, with just a delightful dong on him; Alyce is S'9”, with 36C jugs, full legs, a narrow waist.

They are both a beautiful chocolate brown, she about one shade darker than him.

Alyce and Arvin are not just correspondents: it would be fair to say that, even though they live a long way from us, they’re friends .. Friends. So close have we become in our letters, photos, tapes and occasional phone calls, that I think we'd all feel the loss were something to happen to any one of us.

Alyce, especially, is a hoot! Although both of them are VERY intelligent and well-educated, and hold their own in "the White Man's world" without leaning on either EEOC or "tokenism," neither flaunting their skin color nor being ashamed of it, Alyce loves talking what Alvin terms "street nigger" with close friends, her usually well-modulated, well-grammared voice liable, at any moment, to break out in a Prissy-like, "Well, Miss Jill, dis here Alben, he sho' would like a taste of dat fine-lookin' southern-fried pussy of yo’all’s...” or "Massa wants to put dat dinky little white thing in his pa' old nigga kitchen wench? Why does yo' wants to do dat, Massa Tim?"

She's just as liable, then, to straighten her voice out and say something like, "Miscegenation is an atavism whose antisocial characterization probably began in Coastal South Carolina in the late 1700's."

The photos and tapes we’ve received from them have been matched only by their letters, letters full of adventure, suggestions, wants -- with photos to match, Alvin being as good a photographer as my hubby. After discovering our penchant for heels and hose, most of the photos and tapes since then have featured Alyce dressed likewise ("I had to start a whole new category of clothing budget, Jill!").

When Alyce photographs Alvin, she's been known to put a bandanna around his forehead like a sweatband, then lightly oil his skin -- and make sure his almost frightening cock is at full erection before snapping the shutter.

Besides the fact that we've been in touch with them the longest and most prolifically of any of our correspondents, there is one other reason why I single Alyce and Alvin out for more than Honorable Mention in this chapter: they are the only photo swap friends whom we've ever actually met ... and what a meeting it was!

***

A peculiar -- even unique -- chain of circumstances occurred which made us realize that, in the not-too-far future, both Tim and Alvin were due to be in the same city at the same time, attending two different conventions at two different hotels. Alyce and I put our heads together (metaphorically speaking, of course) over the telephone and decided this was just too good an opportunity to pass up. So, Alyce took some vacation, I took a leave of absence, and we ALL went to New Orleans!

Alyce and I -- whom our husbands have been known to refer to as "the troublemakers" of our respective marriages -- knew we had only so much time together in the Crescent City, and we were determined to get maximum mileage out of it, especially filmwise (sadly, this was before either of us had video cameras, although we're planning a sight-and-sound reenactment this summer). Our plans then were made, in general, before we ever go here, and we worked out the specifics during the days when, cameras in hand, we went out and did the Tourist Number together .. getting some nice scenic shots, some interesting, leggy cheesecake of each other in front of landmarks -- and back in the room, unbeknownst to our husbands until a couple of weeks later, each of us took a set of the other stripping and playing with herself, me posing Alyce in positions I knew Tim would like, Alyce posing me in shots she knew Alvin would enjoy. When we got through with that, we sat down across from each other, spread our legs over the arms of our respective chairs, and simultaneously fingered ourselves to multiple orgasms while watching the other do likewise. The evenings? ......??

* * *

We only had three evenings together, and those only by virtue (if that's the appropriate word) of skipping some of the night-time festivities at our respective conventions. Alyce and I carefully planned them for maximum variety in photographs, plus building up to a peak of experience, so this is what happened, neither of us telling our husbands What Was Up until they HAD to know ...

NIGHT ONE

We were in Tim and mine's room. Alyce and I had gotten there earlier so that, by the time our husbands arrived, we had everything ready: chilled wine on hand, both of us dressed in floor-length robes, hose and heels .. and other things, but they didn't become apparent until later. Our husbands were in street clothes, which is just the way we wanted them.

When we told the guys, over drinks, what Part One was, they protested mildly, using as their excuse the fact that, if we were working toward some kind of a pinnacle, that was a terribly kinky way to start. Alyce and I, though, know how to convince obstreperous husbands so, with not-quite-grumbling good grace, they gave in.

So it was that, not too long after we set our high-heeled feet down, we began our little photo story, both Alyce and I capturing the action on film as we directed the scenario.

We had gone to a theatrical rental shop that day and gotten a policeman's shoulder holster, pistol, handcuffs and handcuff case, all of which Alvin was dutifully wearing as we got a shot of him standing behind the door, pistol drawn, as Tim walked in through the door, seemingly unaware that Alvin is back there.

Now Tim's up against the wall in the classic position: arms up and spread on the wall, his body leaning on his hands from a couple of feet away, his legs spread awkwardly. As Tim looks back over his shoulder, Alvin's one hand is holding the pistol in Tim's ribs while his other hand is between Tim's legs from the rear: the implication to the pose is that, if Alvin were "frisking" my husband, it was only to see if he had balls.

Same pose, same position of Alvin’s right hand .. but Tim's pants and shorts have been pulled down below his now-naked ass. The two of them are facing each other now, the camera showing the smile on Alvin’s face. Tim’s shirt is open, his wrists cuffed behind his back, his pants and shorts still around his knees .. and Alvin stroking Tim's cock with the barrel of his pistol.

(There was a certain amount of verbal ribaldry going on during the early stages of this, most of which -- as is, sadly, usually the case -- we've forgotten, but I do remember Alyce saying "Well, now, they've BOTH got weapons drawn. Wonder which one's going to go off first?").

Tim’s kneeling on the floor, nothing on now but his open shirt and the handcuffs; Alvin is standing in front of him, his pants open, his big, beautiful cock out in his hand.

(I should point out that Alvin is not, strictly speaking, a bisexual, unlike Tim, Alyce and, yes, myself. This is not uncommon in the swinging world: many more active female bi's than male, although most guys will consent to having a blowjob from another male as long as they're not expected to reciprocate. I won't bore you with my theories on the "why" of that. Suffice it to say that we took that into account in drawing up our "script").

You know what the next shot has to be: one of Alvin’s hands on the back of Tim's head, "forcing" him forward so that Alvin's marvelous machine is between Tim's lips. I got very, very wet on seeing that .. and I suspect my shutter-snapping sepia sister did, too: I do know her lips got dry and she started licking them a lot.

We quickly got Alvin's gorgeous, muscular body naked, Tim’s shirt pulled down his arms to hang off his cuffs. We had Alvin almost literally rape Tim's mouth, in a variety of positions: Tim sitting, squatting, kneeling .. finally, laying on his back on the bed as Alvin straddles my hubby's chest, his big hands holding Tim's head up to pull it back and forth, running his cock in and out of my lover's mouth. I think my hands were shaking a bit as Alyce and I listened to Alvin’s growing excitement and captured on film the delicious scene when, finally, Alvin hit his peak and, one of his hands holding Tim by his hair, locking his head where it was wanted, Alvin pulled his prick out of Tim's mouth and, grabbing his dong in his other hand, stroked himself while spraying Tim's lips and cheeks with his thick, milky come while grunting, involuntarily, in reaction to how it felt.

I was almost unbelievably excited as Alvin leaned back on his outstretched arms, his half-hard cock resting on Tim's come-smeared face while Alyce and I moved in to take closeups.

Having just gotten his rocks off, and not being bi to begin with, Alvin was something less than thrilled at the next sequence -- although, good sport that he is, his lack of enthusiasm doesn't show in the photos of him stroking his cock into hardness. Then, at our instructions, Alvin knelt between Tim’s legs, reached under them, and lifted Tim until his ass was resting on Alvin's chest, Tim's legs splayed wide, his body folded awkwardly.

Alvin started jerking Tim -- after surprising all of us by leaning forward and tonguing Tim's balls (fortunately, we weren't so surprised that we forgot to capture it on film).

My contribution to my husband's temporary sexual demise was to pour some baby oil on his cock before Alyce and I stepped back and immortalized poor Tim, his body bent almost double, Alvin's come still trickling off his cheeks, while Alvin started fucking Tim's cock with his fist, Alvin's dark, strong hand pumping up and down in his singleminded drive to make my lover explode.

As for Tim, all his attention was centered on that hand --and his attention got more intense when the fingers of Alvin's left hand began tickling Tim's tightly-drawn-up balls. Harder, faster, went Alvin's strokes, louder became the moans of pleasure from my husband .. his body jerking, his head snapping back and forth .. until, suddenly, Alvin's left hand -- without disturbing the pumping of his right -- reached out to grab Tim by the hair, pulling his head up to face his up-in-the-air groin .. as Alvin's hand put the final pressure on and Tim came, his come -- accompanied by loud, strangled cries of pleasure -- spurting out of his prick and messily splattering his face and chest, while Alvin's merciless hand made sure every single drop was milked out of him.

Then both of them slumped down on the bed, exhausted. * * *

Alyce and I were nervous. No, it wasn't nervousness due to what we were about to be seen and photographed doing -- we're both entirely too exhibitionistic for that and, besides, each of us had done it with others ... but never with each other, and we were so fond of each other by then that each of us was quite anxious that the other get great pleasure from what was about to transpire.

Alyce and I had been at great pains to create this "first-time" atmosphere, even to avoiding sexual contact with each other during our afternoon "nude and lewd" photo/masturbation session .. although both of us had wanted to, and had admitted it to each other in VERY graphic terms while our fingers were buried in our own pussies. Now, the moment, the opportunity to be totally uninhibited with our partner's body was at hand....

Some wine, kisses and approval had perked our mates up and, as they put fresh film into their cameras, we gave them the groundrules. Don't ignore close-up shots, don't feel hurt if Alyce and I concentrated on each other and kind of ignored them. If the moving of hair or a portion of either body would make for a better picture, just quietly reach out and rearrange it but, please, no conversation with us, or sexual caresses: let us concentrate on each other with minimal distraction.

That sounds harsh, but we were trying to create a mood: that of two women, alone, experiencing their first delight in each other. There was no way either of us could fail to be aware of (and to enjoy) our husbands' presence (and approval of what we were doing, as much for them as for ourselves -- I think), but we needed to be able to concentrate, to feel affection for each other and to LET IT SHOW.

This last was going to take some concentration in order to get over a little mores barrier: it is a peculiarity of the swinging world that overt bisexualism -- guys sucking cock, even more women eating pussy -- is okay, even encouraged quite often .. but letting it carry over into handholding or, ESPECIALLY, kissing on the lips is generally looked at quite askance. God Only Knows Why because WE certainly don't .. although we have our suspicions.

In any case, as long as we were shattering taboos, it had struck Alyce and I that that would be a good one to go -- even though both of us had realized that the little negative niggle of peer-group conditioning was lurking in the back of our respective minds.

Anyway, when Alyce and I laid down on the bed, we were both still in our robes, only a modest amount of leg showing, along with her white ankle-strap spikes and my 5" black patent stiletto pumps, me in black, seamed hose, she in white. As the guys took the first couple of shots, Alyce was laying on her back, I was on my side facing toward her, her left arm around my back, my right arm under her head, my torso slightly raised, both of us smiling directly into the cameras.

That was our last outward acknowledgement of our husbands being there.

We -- Alyce and I -- had decided that, all things considered, I should lead this dance, so I was the one who first turned away from Tim and Alvin, to get my dusky-skinned companion's attention, to stare directly into her liquid brown eyes .. and to begin, very suggestively, licking my lips, slowly sticking out my tongue, using the tip to moisten my upper lip, arching my full tongue out in a way meant to suggest it heading toward a clit.

Alyce understood the symbolism and watched in fascination for some moments before her own pink tongue came out to, first, moisten her own mouth, then to arch out and make contact with the tip of my tongue.

As our tongues touched, our lips slowly drew together until, after a teasingly-long journey, we kissed, Alyce’s hand on my back caressing my shoulders through my robe, my unoccupied hand resting on her abdomen, feeling her growing excitement before reaching up to take her jaw in my fingers as the final gap closed between us and our lips met.

Alyce’s mouth was delicious, a faint taste of wine seasoning her already-sweet breath. I love to kiss and, despite my looks and day-to-day public demeanor, I enjoy the dominant role. Thus it was that Alyce’s enthusiastic acquiescence to our tongue-probing lip mating, the unspoken symbolic surrender of every part of her body to whatever I chose to do, put the match to my sexual oils and, suddenly, we were no longer “just
posing for pictures for our husbands but, equally as important, I was seducing this beautiful, dark-skinned woman, kissing her lips, sucking her tongue .. nibbling her neck, taking her earlobe into my mouth, driving my tongue into her ear.

Her response was soft moans, a slow writhing of her robe-clad body .. and a raging fire in mine, one that I had to use all my self-control on to keep from too much haste. Instead of doing what I wanted to do -- which was to forget the foreplay and get right down to the heavy action -- I let my mouth return to Alyce's as my left hand slid inside her robe to cover her sizeable breast, her nipple pointed beneath my palm.

My always-present sense of theatre guided my hand, after a few soft caresses of Alyce’s tit, to pull her robe off one shoulder far enough to reveal that magnificent mound with its huge, thick, dark-brown, rock-hard nipple, then to caress it, trailing my fingers over it before squeezing its center bud. My mouth left my lover’s to once more attack her neck and ear before trailing downward, my hand cupping her big, beautiful boob, mashing it in and up so that it was ready when my mouth got there to lick the tasty nub on its tip before sucking the nipple between my lips.

I made love to Alyce's tits, sucking, licking, squeezing, very quickly opening the other side of her robe, too, so that my mouth could delight one dark nipple while my fingers teased the other. The quiet snapping of shutters was like applause from our husbands .. and Alyce's muttered moans and "Oh .. Jill .. yes!” sounds let me know that my friend certainly approved.

My own breasts .. ached, the nipples feeling as if they were ready to burst. After some minutes of moving my mouth back an forth from one heaving mound of Alyce’s to the other, I raised my head far enough to kiss her again -- long, lots of tongues probing between mouths, my dusky lover giving as good as she was getting -- before, unable to stand it anymore, I pulled away from her, raised myself to my knees at her side and, with a swift move, pulled my own robe off my body, then spent a couple of minutes on my knees caressing myself, highlighting my breasts, my cunt, with my hands while I admired Alyce's only partially-revealed body (and thought of what I was going to do to it!), let Alyce enjoy the sight of mine (and think about what SHE was going to do with it!) while our husbands captured the tableau on film.

While my concentration was on my friend, I was also quite aware that this was Alvin's first opportunity to see my naked body "in the flesh," as it were and, not too far down the road was coming Tim's first opportunity to see Alyce likewise.

We'd dressed for the occasion. I was wearing what could be mistaken, at first glance, as a basque, those wonderfully sexy undergarments that hold and caress you from the undersides of the your breasts to just the very top of your pubic triangle. Basques, however, are almost always made of a stiff, strong material, with boning at strategic locations to mold your body into a classic shape. What I was wearing covered (if that's the right word) the same ground, but had no boning at all in it, and was made of see-through black lace that would've looked more like a wide belt were it not for the thin shoulder straps pulling it snugly up beneath my breasts, raising them and their stiff, pointed nipples like an invitation, and hose supports, pulling the bottom down to its proper location, while keeping my sleek black stockings tightly in place on my creamy upper thighs.