Escape From Comfort Ch. 01

In other news, my cock was now well immersed in Sara's mouth, and she was demonstrating significant skill in stimulating it. Her free hand had moved from stroking my shaft to cradling and caressing my sack. I groaned as best I could with my tongue buried in her folds.

Frankly, it was little embarrassing. This was fucking intense, but still, we had only been at it a few minutes and I was ready to come. I briefly paused my attack her slit and begged for mercy. "I'm sorry, Sara, but if you don't ease off, I'm going to pop already!"

Sara chuckled around my cock in her mouth. She released me with a slurping sound and gasped, "You just please... keep up your good work down there! Remember, our kids are both sleeping over tonight. If you pop now in my accommodating mouth... well, we do have all night." With those instructions, Sara went back to town on my cock as if determined to get me off in record time. I kept groaning in response and sucked gently, then firmly on her little, eager clit.

Sure enough, I could not hold myself back under the combined assaults of the weirdness of the whole situation, Sara's expert, eager ministrations... and the image of Peter's tongue in my wife's mouth. I tried to shout a warning, but my mouth refused to leave her delicious, gyrating pussy. My feet kicked wildly as I felt pulse after pulse of my cum jetting into Sara's mouth. She did choke little at the initial unheralded blast, but hummed happily as she kept her lips closed around my cock, sucking eagerly as I emptied myself. As my eruption faded, she rubbed eagerly up my cock, harvesting any slowpoke drips that might have lingered in my shaft. I eagerly plunged my tongue back into her pussy and rubbed softly at her clit with my thumb. That extra massage, and the what felt like an ocean of jizz I had just deposited in her mouth, seemed to do it for her as well.

Sara gasped in ecstasy, letting my cock pop out of her mouth as she desperately sought air to maintain mental function. I delved even deeper in her with my tongue, my face crushed against her sex. She kept rolling around on the counter top, unable to escape my assault and she nearly shrieked with the next round of orgasmic waves.

For an instant, I was alarmed that Peter and Erika might hear her.

Then I realized that I hoped to hell that they did! Here I was having a grand old time with another man's wife, and part of me was trying to show off my prowess to my own.

I held onto Sara's hip as she tried to roll away onto her back. I followed on top of her and kept tasting her. She shrieked again, and I knew they had to have heard us that time. I have no idea how many waves of ecstasy I made erupt within her before she desperately pounded the granite surface and breathed, "Uncle! Stop! Please!"

I rolled onto my back beside her, gasping for air and revealing in the aroma of her that was lathered across my face. Sara collapsed bonelessly on the granite beside me, her chest heaving prettily.

"Think they heard me?" she asked between gulps of air.

"I sure hope so!" I replied through a laugh of wonderment again at how that was, in absolute fact, true.

We lay there, side by side and transposed, on the granite counter top, letting ourselves recharge quietly.

"I need cheese," Sara suddenly declared.

"Cheese?!?" I asked mildly incredulously. "Pardon me, but who craves post-orgasmic cheese?"

"I ALWAYS like cheese," said Sara sweetly as she softly slid to her feet and opened the fridge. "I like cheese under all circumstances. And cutting some to serve up is a nice relaxing activity that will give my body time to stop shivering from what you just did you me and get ready to shiver from what you are going to do next!"

Oh, so there would be more?

Yes, please.

And the cheese did sound good, now that I thought about it. I sat up and watched the naked prep cook slice up a small variety of good-looking cheeses onto two wooden cheese boards. She added a bunch of grapes to each and a small pile of prosciutto.

She picked up one board and I realized that she hadn't made one for me and one for her, but one for us and one for the two engaging in whatever skullduggery outside. "Let's go see if they are ready for a snack, too," Sara said brightly, as if she was simply continuing her normal hostessly duties.

I followed her and her deliberately swaying ass through the living room to the screen door leading out back. She stopped there abruptly and I bumped into her from behind. I regret nothing about that.

"Hey guys!" Sara called. "Anyone ready for a snack out there?"

"Hell yes!" sang out Peter from the darkness.

After a barely perceptible hesitation, Erika also called out a yes.

Sara looked at me with an expression that was a mashup of lust, reassurance, sympathy, amusement, curiosity, and lust, then pushed open the screen door.

We stepped out onto the patio and spied Erika curled up like a cat in Peter's lap on one of their big, upholstered chaise sun loungers. Erika gets very cuddly after a good orgasm, and she was looking extraordinarily cuddly right at that moment.

I paused in my steps behind Sara. This guy had literally just fucked my wife, or some close approximation thereof, and here I was bringing him a goddamned charcuterie tray. I SHOULD have been jealous, and yet I was not. Instead, I was more than a little turned on by how cuddly Erika looked there with Peter's hand clasping one gorgeous breast.

He was holding her tit right in front of both me and his own wife! And Erika seemed in no hurry to exit his embrace, either. The cheese really was an intermission, not the end credits. Why the hell was I not jealous? I mean besides my own animalistic desire to go back inside, eat some restorative meat and cheese, and engage in a shit ton of the 'more' that Sara had promised me? The fact was, I was happy for Erika. She was on a thrill ride, and I felt glad that she appeared to be loving it.

"I hope you guys have been okay without us," I said easily, ambling up behind Sara, pressing myself against her. My still very wrung out cock twitched softly against the small of her back, as if murmuring it was okay, just give it a minute. I looked into Erika's eyes, wanting to make sure I saw happiness.

I once more got that slightly wild-eyed, 'this is crazy!' smile from her. My smile answered in kind. It was all I needed. It was more than I needed, as my cock decided to start waking up again in earnest.

Feeling my manhood stirring against her spine, Sara smiled naughtily over her shoulder at me, then said, "I don't think we are done in the kitchen actually, George. Do you mind?" she added, stepping back toward the house.

"Not at all," I replied casually, reaching down to snag a grape and a chunk of bleu from the tray we just brought out.

"Hey, Mister," Peter growled, "That's OUR cheese. Go enjoy YOUR cheese."

I stared at Peter for a moment. His face held an expression of challenge. Good-natured, friendly challenge, but challenge. I realized that my friend was actually diverting his attention from my naked wife to be sure I was okay too. That felt good.

I winked at him. "I believe I will," I said, popping my stolen grape in my mouth. It burst deliciously as I bit down. I turned and followed Sara's enticing parade. "You guys have fun," I said over my shoulder. "Peter, don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Two laughs followed me as I returned inside. I felt my cock surging to life again as I stepped into the darkened living room toward the lights of the kitchen. In the back of my mind, I was becoming fairly confident that Erika and I would be good when this was done. Maybe, possibly, probably(?) better than before. But right then, my suddenly straining cock and I had a much more short-term mental horizon, and it pretty much included nothing besides screwing Sara six was to Sunday.

"Ahem," came a voice from the darkness. I turned, realizing that Sara was not back in the kitchen, but was instead lounging on the huge couch in their living room, in the dark, with the tray of snacks on the table in front of her. "Nice silhouette," she observed to me, and I realized that when I'd paused, my erection and I were outlined by the light of the kitchen behind us.

"Thanks," I said, bemused. I turned and sat easily on the couch beside her. I grabbed several pieces of cheese from the board and leaned back, draping an arm around her shoulder. I popped a piece in my mouth, chewed it softly, and shifted the arm around Sara's shoulder so I could companionably rest my hand on her breast. "This is good," I observed quietly.

"The cheese?" she murmured, cuddling into my stroking hand.

"All of it," I replied firmly. In the darkness, a hand found my cock and began stroking it again.

We finished the cheese we had in our free hands, and Sara piped up, "You know what? I think I don't need any more snacks." Her hand grasped my cock much more firmly.

"Fuck that cheese," I agreed quietly.

"Fucking the CHEESE was not my plan," she laughed.

I lifted my arm from her and spun down to kneel on the floor, moving to place myself between her knees. "Now I think you are getting it," sighed Sara, sliding forward on the couch until her crotch hung off the edge.

I pressed against her, my dick hungrily brushing her sex. It was a nice low couch, perfect for this exact position. I steadied my shaft with my hand and powered my way easily and forcefully inside Sara. She sighed happily as I slid within her. I just quivered.

Rather than begin thrusting, I leaned forward and took her face in both my hands. We stayed like that, with me buried inside her and sharing a long, tender, weirdly almost chaste kiss.

But my body had other ideas, and when my hands slid down to caress her breasts, our kiss became much more passionate. Her lovely tits made barely a handful for me, but they were so wonderfully malleable and responsive to my touch. Her rock-hard nipples pressed into the palms of my hands.

It was insanely hard to keep from thrusting into Sara, but I was determined to extend this moment in time as long as I could. But then I felt her hands clasping my ass urgently. I remained still, even though Sara was beginning to writhe on the couch.

"Listen," Sara mumbled through our on-going kiss. "If you don't start fucking me right now, I'm going to scratch your ass to ribbons." To illustrate her point, her caressing fingers suddenly clenched, her elegant, long, sharp fingernails digging into my soft flesh just this side of painfully.

I was not a man to refuse a lady. Discretion was the better part of valor. All those things.

I shifted my hands from Sara's breasts to her petite hips and began to slide, then plunge in and out of her. Sara muttered that that was much better, and we proceeded to grunt and moan away as we enjoyed an intense, but for the moment still leisurely, fuck.

After a while, I knew it was either shift positions right then, or finish like that... imminently. I had no desire to finish yet, so I slipped free of her confines and sat back beside Sara on the couch. She happily took my cue and flipped over to straddle me, guiding me back to her pussy without delay. My eyes practically rolled back in my skull as she took me inside her again. Sara was having none of my leisurely ways and was humping up and down on me in gleeful exertion. It was glorious, but it was also apparent that things were not going to last long this way either. Sara was breathing increasingly shallowly, her grunts tending more toward gasps. Her breasts bounced up and down before me, not with the majesty that Erika's would have (or quite possibly WERE right at that moment elsewhere), but arrestingly all the same. I felt a pressure building between my legs that would not long be contained as the real and imagined images overlaid themselves in my mind.

Then from outside, we heard a gasping shriek. A loud one. Several loud ones. A whole long series of loud, passionate, breathless, high-pitched moans. I recognized the sound. I felt a brief pang of remorse that I had not heard it that loud, or that extended, in a very long time. Erika was coming. Hard.

Sara stopped, halfway impaled on me, wrapped her hands around my shoulders and watched.

The couch faced away from the backyard, so I couldn't see, but cowgirl Sara was taking in a direct view.

"Want me to describe it to you?" she whispered leeringly in my ear.

"Yes," I breathed, my cock pulsing inside her, momentarily biding its time.

"They are on the grass. Erika is on her hands and knees, and Peter is grinding into her from behind," breathed Sara. Erika began yet another series of loud moans. "Damn, they look so hot," breathed Sara, clenching down on me absently. A lone, shriek came from Erika behind me, and I could tell that she was finally, desperately, ecstatically done.

"Hot, huh?" I growled and pushed Sara off me. She kept her eyes on our spouses outside and I slipped around and drove myself back into her from behind, as if mimicking what Peter had just been doing with my wife. I slid in and out idly, in no rush because I wanted a look too.

Erika had collapsed to the grass and rolled over under Peter. She lifted a hand to his still obviously unsatisfied cock. I could tell what was coming, but Sara apparently did not. I ground into her intensely, my eyes locked on my wife and my friend. I wondered what it would look like from a vantage other than my own.

Erika tugged at Peter's cock and pulled it down to nestle between her lovely, glorious, generous, fantastic... and very, very fuckable tits. With it nestled in the middle of her chest, Erika pushed her breasts together around Peter's cock.

"Wow," said Sara in fascination about what we were watching. Or in appreciation of my increasingly intense penetration of her pussy from behind. Or both.

Peter needed but little coaching on what to do, and was sliding his dick between Erika's breasts with wild abandon.

"I've never actually seen that in real life," gasped Sara, a note of jealousy in her voice. Not of her husband being with another woman, but jealousy of what Erika could offer that Sara could not. I just fucked Sara harder. I gasped to her that right then she was offering me all I could possibly handle.

We both kept our eyes locked on outside, both sensing that Peter was about to lose it. I slid in and out of Sara relentlessly, not even pausing when Peter's back arched hard and he froze with his dick at its greatest advance. He practically roared with release. I could tell from the soft jerk of Erika's head, followed by a licking of her lips, that he had come all over her.

I lost it. I moaned loudly enough to actually attract attention from outside, though they clearly couldn't see us, and shot my own prodigious load inside Sara. I felt myself pumping and pumping shot after shot of jizz, groaning loudly.

But my own cries were drowned out by Sara's sudden burst of ecstasy. She thrashed wildly beneath me as I manfully tried to keep my own pounding going through her entire ecstatic cluster of orgasms.

At last, I collapsed on Sara's back. Outside, we saw Peter roll over onto the grass, one hand pressing down on the top of his head as if her were trying to stuff his brains back in.

"Well," I whispered in Sara's ear. "If your neighbors didn't hear you earlier, they damn sure all heard that out there!" She laughed in agreement.

Outside, Peter wobbled to his feet and lifted my apparently cum-sodden wife to hers. Together, holding hands, they jumped into the pool.

When they came inside, mostly toweled dry but still quite naked like us, Sara and I were sitting opposite each other in the booth in the kitchen that they used as a breakfast nook. Erika slid in next to me and Peter fell in beside Sara, his arm sliding easily around her shoulder. We had already opened a bottle of Pinot Noir, and Sara poured the two of them glasses of it as they sat.

Wordlessly, we clinked our glasses together as one.

"You should know," Peter said suddenly, "Sara and I have rules."

"Rules?" I asked, challengingly.

"Oh, not for YOU," Peter hasted to say, "for US. I just thought you might like to hear ours, since you probably would be wise to adopt your own, unless you plan to go on with your lives tomorrow as if tonight didn't happen...."

Erika and I wordlessly looked at each other yet again. We smiled. "Do go on, Peter," said Erika calmly, her hand resting contentedly on my thigh.

"One," said Peter, holding up a finger, "we always start any interaction like this as a couple. Together. We always need to be aware of what is happening with the other..." said Peter, then quirked a smile, "in general terms, at least. A lot of couples we know who swing don't follow this one, but it is very important to the two of us."

"Two, it is always another couple," Peter went on, holding up a second finger. "We decided early one to avoid threesomes. They feel too dangerous to us. This works really, REALLY well because we keep it equitable. Threesomes are always at least a little unbalanced, be it with another man or woman. Again, many if not most other swingers we know don't have this as a rule or even a guideline. This is not a monoculture we've given you a look at tonight."

"Three, we both have to want, really want, our opposite numbers in the other couple. Enthusiastically. No one ever 'takes one for the team' and hooks up with someone they aren't attracted to, just because the other one of us really has the hots for the other half."

"Aw, honey!" I said, in a stage whisper, "They both think we are hot."

Sara leaned forward, shaking her head and smiling. "Shit, George. We've been plotting how to fuck you two since the minute after we left that soccer parents' orientation meeting where we first met. It was some hot sex that night while we planned our moves, let me tell you!"

Erika's hand slid up my thigh to rest on my cock, which seemed satisfied and happy, even though it could barely twitch in response. "I think I can speak for George when I say we appreciate your sticktoitive-ness," Erika said firmly.

"It's weird though," I said, looking at Erika. "I can't think of another couple we know who are both hot enough to try this with." Erika shook her head back at me, but we both were clearly thinking.

Peter raised his glass to me.

"Fourth, there are no solo missions. We don't hang with someone from another couple without the other halves being involved. Whether we 'know' them or not."

"Makes sense," observed Erika. "You may be hot, Peter, but I could never have handled having fun with you had I not known that George and Sara were in here having fun too!" Her fingers curled around my somnolent cock appreciatively.

"They all make sense to me," I said.

"Fifth," said Peter, holding up his hand, fingers spread out in a sort of final gesture, "In addition to making sure things remain equitable and transparent, our fun is always about frolic and friendship. Not about deeper relationships except the one between us. We never swing with the same couple twice in a row."

Erika and I looked at each other at that. I could see the wheels turning in her head and she saw them turning in mine, considering the implications of that.

"Well, Sara," drawled Erika, "You'd best warm up your rolodex, because I want to return the favor of your invitation and have you guys over to our place pretty soon."

Peter and Sara laughed. "It's not like we do this all THAT often. We aren't your weekly swinger party types. So far this year, we've only even considered seven different couples. Four we knew--well--already. Of the other three, you are the only ones who rose to the bait."

"Only us?" I laughed in turn. "I surprised. You guys have some pretty bodacious bait!" I added, waggling my eyebrows at Sara.

Sara just smiled serenely and made motions that let it be abundantly clear that she was massaging Peter below the table as well. "I admit to looking forward to a reciprocal visit with you guys. Our regular frequency be damned, I'll have to ask Peter to bestir himself and make the sacrifice to 'open up our calendar' for you guys."