From Swinger to Hot Wife

"This is his first swinger's party," she stated proudly. "I'm hoping that he'll do both myself and him proud tonight. He's a long stayer and has a remarkably short recovery period. He'll be good for at least three ladies tonight!"

"Mam, please," said Hamish, blushing deeply. "No one wants to hear that!"

"Oh, but we do, Hamish," replied Lydia, and there were lots of nods around the dining table. "It's not often we get the chance to sample such a young man. I'm sure I speak for all the ladies here when I say that there's nothing quite like having a virile young cock reaming in and out of our... how shall I put this?... our more mature cunts!"

Everybody laughed, and Hamish blushed deeply again.

When the keys were chosen, Morag, as the newbie, was allowed to have first pick. She pulled out her own key, but as that was against the rules, she had to replace it, and Olwen had the next go. She pulled out Morag's key too, so she and Hamish soon found themselves in the same bedroom that Charles had taken her to the last time.

Morag didn't exaggerate! Hamish was a wonderful lover, and when he and Olwen came back downstairs, they found two couples, Lydia and Frank and Jean and Alan waiting patiently.

"Thank goodness for that," Lydia said with a huge grin. "We're all ready to start round two. I've had Alan and I can't have Frank, of course. Fucking your husband is definitely not swinging! So Jean, you take Frank upstairs, Olwen, you can have Alan for seconds, and I'll see just how quickly young Hamish has recovered!"

She grabbed the young man's hand and fled upstairs before anyone could object to her autocratic manner. As she went upstairs with Alan, Olwen wondered where the hell Richard was. She hoped he hadn't disgraced himself again, and gone home in a fit of pique and embarrassment.

Olwen needn't have worried. Richard was bursting to tell her what had happened after she had gone upstairs with Hamish. Charles had been paired with Lisa, which left Richard and Tony, Lisa's husband to pair up with Miriam and Morag. Richard grinned when he described how disappointed Miriam looked when she pulled Richard's key out of the bowl.

"I did manage to fuck her," he said proudly, "but I didn't last long enough to give her an orgasm. She did thaw a bit though when I offered to go down on her."

"But we were still the first ones downstairs again. A few minutes later, Tony and Morag came down. Miriam was still gagging for a good fuck, so she and Tony soon went back upstairs, leaving Morag and me alone."

"What happened?" asked an intrigued Olwen. "You and Morag weren't there when Hamish and I came down to join Lydia and Frank and Jean and Alan."

Richard smirked proudly.

"I was already upstairs fucking Morag," he grinned.

"Oh come off it Richard. I know you of old," Olwen protested. "You cum once and then you can't get it up for hours. How did you fool Morag if you'd already fucked Miriam?"

"It's like this," Richard explained. "Morag and I started chatting after Miriam took Tony upstairs. She told me how her late husband liked anal sex. Hamish won't fuck her up the arse, and she misses it."

Olwen's face was a picture.

"Women get fucked up the arse?" she asked incredulously. "I thought only gay men had that sort of sex."

Richard chuckled.

"Some women love it," he went on. "And whilst Morag was telling me this, she took a cigar out of her handbag and lit it up. She's quite a heavy smoker, she told me. Well, believe it or not, between seeing her smoking that big cigar and the thought of fucking her up the arse, I was hard again in no time! So I took her back upstairs!"

They arrived home at this point. When he had put the car in the garage,Richard didn't speak. He let Olwen consider what he had told her on the way home, and she was very quiet as they undressed for bed.

When the light was out, and Richard had completed his clean up of Olwen's twice fucked cunt, Olwen was spooned up against Richard's back. She whispered, "Are you asleep yet, darling?"

"Mmm... almost," came the sleepy reply.

It took Olwen ages to get to sleep that night, but when the alarm clock went off on Saturday morning, Olwen had come to a decision. She went downstairs to make them both a nice cup of tea, and when she returned to bed to drink it with Richard, she turned to him and smiled.

"You went out like a light last night," she teased. "Fucking two women in one night must agree with you!"

Richard grinned like the cat who got the cream.

"I always thought that men's sexual prowess diminuished as they got older," he said, sipping his tea. "But mine has definitely increased! I've never managed to get it up twice in one night, let alone do the deed with two women!"

Olwen nudged him playfully. " 'Do the deed?' You mean 'Fuck' don't you?" she teased. "Judging by what you told me last night, I need to learn to smoke cigars and let you fuck me up my arse!"

Richard looked at his wife in amazement.

"You'd really smoke for me?" he said in a strangled voice.

"Of course I would. I mean, I will," smiled Olwen, putting her cup of tea down on her bedside table and reaching under the quilt for Richard's cock. It was already hard.

"Why don't you put this little beauty up my arse right now? Then we'll have some breakfast and you can take me down to the tobacconists shop in town. There's no time like the present to begin my smoking lessons!"

Breakfast was late in the Simpson household that morning. Richard managed to get his cock up Olwen's arse eventually, but it was very painful for both of them, and Olwen insisted on being cleaned up properly before they went downstairs.

"As well as some cigars, I think we need to invest in some lubricant," she informed Richard. "I enjoyed it when you eventually got it in me, but I thought you were going to rip me in two as it went in!"

Christmas 1977 approached in a flurry of snow and bitingly cold weather. Olwen carefully made her way up the slippery garden path. School was over for the Christmas holidays, and that evening she and Richard were due to attend a swingers' party in a town about thirty miles away. It was a nuisance having to travel so far away, but Richard's reputation meant that he and Olwen rarely got invited back to another party at the same venue.

His technique had improved somewhat, and he could now keep going for at least five minutes, but his tiny cock was the cause of much merriment at most parties, and whoever got Richard as a fuck buddy for the night knew that she would be lucky to get even one orgasm before he shot his bolt and remained soft and useless for the rest of the night. Since Morag and Hamish had moved back to Scotland, none of the women in the swinger's group smoked (except Olwen, of course, and Richard couldn't fuck his wife at parties) and he was too shy to suggest trying anal sex with whoever he was paired with.

Olwen wanted to get ready so that they could leave as soon as Richard came home from work. She took off her thick winter coat and hung it on the coat stand in the hallway. Slipping off her wet shoes, she hurried upstairs to the bathroom. She needed to shave her cunt so that it would be beautifully smooth for whoever was lucky enough to fuck her tonight.

By the time Richard got home the weather had deteriorated. It was snowing heavily, and local radio was reporting that several side roads were already impassable. Richard found Olwen upstairs in the main bedroom, sitting at her dressing table and applying her make up.

"I think we ought to phone to check if this party is still on," he began. "I don't mind driving there, but it's a hell of a long way to go in this weather just to turn round and come back if the party's cancelled.

Olwen agreed.

"Do you want me to phone?" she asked. "I'm more or less ready, and you'll need a shower before we leave."

She went downstairs to use the phone as Richard headed for the bathroom to have his shower.

Olwen had just about got to the bottom of the stairs when the phone started to ring. She picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Is that Olwen Simpson?" came a voice with a very posh accent.

"Speaking," replied Olwen. "Who is this?"

"It's Lady Camilla Ffortesque-Smythe," Olwen was informed. "I understand that you and your husband were due to attend a little evening soiree at my house later on tonight."

"Yes that's right, Camilla," replied Olwen enthusiastically. "I'm all ready and Richard's just gone into the shower. We'll be leaving in about twenty minutes."

"Well I'm telephoning to inform you that there will be no need for you to make the journey."

"Oh, damn! It's this blasted snow, I suppose?" Olwen gushed. "Well if you re-arrange the party, I hope Richard and I will be asked to attend? We both really enjoy 'meeting' new friends."

Olwen put subtle emphasis on the word 'meeting'. She knew that Lady Ffortesque-Smythe would know that she really meant 'fucking'!

"It's not snowing here," Olwen was informed. "I merely telephoned to let you know that I've heard on the grapevine that your husband isn't particularly well endowed. And he has trouble repeating himself. Well, that sort of person has no place in my rather exclusive circle, I'm afraid. My little soiree will go ahead this evening. But neither you nor your husband are welcome to join us. Good evening."

And suddenly Olwen was listening to the dialling tone. The fucking stuck-up bitch had hung up!

"Who was that?" Richard stood at the top of the stairs with a towel around his waist.

"Is the party still on? I'll be down in two ticks. Just got to get my clothes on."

He rushed off to get dressed, and Olwen slowly mounted the stairs again. She walked into their bedroom to find Richard half dressed.

"Everything alright, darling?" he asked tugging on a pair of socks.

"No, everything is far from alright," replied Olwen miserably. "That was our hostess on the phone. The weather there is perfect, but she's heard about your little short comings. They don't want us there, Richard. It looks as if the word's got round the swinging community. I think our swinging days are over!"

Olwen burst into tears, ruining her carefully applied make up.

Richard was obviously upset too. They decided to go to bed and fuck, but they quickly found that Richard couldn't even get a hard on. Olwen didn't smoke in the house, and it was too cold to go into the garden. They tried everything. Olwen sucked Richard's cock, which got hard, but immediately subsided the moment he took it out of her mouth to put it in her cunt. She sat on his face and wriggled, but his cock merely twitched and remained stubbornly flaccid. Even when she made him rim her arse, he couldn't get his cock hard at all. They fell asleep and when they both woke within a few seconds of each other in the morning, Richard's usual 'early morning wood' was significant by its' absence.

Over breakfast, they discussed the situation.

"This is all my fault," Richard wailed. "I've always known how pathetically equipped I am. I love you so much. I want you to have the sort of sex life that fulfills you. I'm not able to provide that. So, if you want to leave me and find a man who can fuck you properly, and regularly, I won't stand in your way."

"Don't be so bloody stupid," Olwen snapped. "I know how much you love me, and I can assure you that the feeling is mutual. I'll never leave you. What I suggest is that until this temporary hiccough is over, you use your tongue to get me off and I'll suck your cock whenever you want me to. And I'll still smoke for you, of course. I quite enjoy my daily cigar now!"

They clung to one another over the dining room table and kissed deeply. Privately, Olwen thought how badly she was going to miss being fucked by a real man's cock, but she kept these thoughts to herself. She really did love Richard, and she hadn't been lying when she told him that she would never leave him.

The Christmas holidays came and went. Olwen went back to school and Richard returned to his civil engineering job. During the cold, dark months of January and February they were both very busy, and sex took a back seat.

They only ever attempted to fuck on the weekends, going to bed early on Friday nights. The situation improved somewhat. As March 1982 became April, Richard managed to get his hard cock into Olwen one bright and sunny Saturday morning. Unfortunately, he shot his bolt before Olwen was even properly wet, so she was denied an orgasm yet again.

Richard did go down on her and cleaned her up, and he continued to lick and suck her cunt until she too blew her load all over his face.

"Well, that was an improvement," Olwen said with a smile as they both ate their breakfast. "I'll go shopping later on this morning. I'm almost out of cigars, and the fridge and the food cupboard need re-stocking too. What do you think? Do you want to come with me?"

"I should give the lawn its first cut of Spring," Richard replied through a mouthful of toast. "You go to the shops and I'll start in the garden. I'll mow the lawn and start weeding the flower beds. The garden's in a hell of a mess after the hard winter we've just had. I know you love sitting out there in the summer, but I just wish it was a bit smaller and easier to manage."

An hour or so later, Olwen parked the car on the drive and rushed into the house. She went straight out into the garden, calling Richard's name excitedly. She found him slumped over the lawn mower, his face ashen and wracked with pain.

"Richard darling?" she called, her exciting news forgotten. "What ever is the matter? Are you alright?"

"I've done something to my back trying to start this bloody mower," he replied through gritted teeth. "I've been like this ever since you went out. I'm in agony. I can't seem to straighten up."

Olwen hurried over to her husband. She put her arm around him supportively.

"Lean on me, darling," she said, and Richard did as he was told. He groaned in agony, but he managed to let go of the lawn mower.

It took nearly an hour to get Richard back into the house. He was shivering with cold, yet his forehead was bathed in sweat, such was the effort of shuffling slowly back into the house.

Olwen fussed over him like a mother hen, and once she had got him into an armchair in the sitting room, she went to get a blanket from the cupboard upstairs and she also filled a hot water bottle and tucked that under the blanket to try and warm Richard up. Then she went to telephone for an ambulance.

Two paramedics arrived about forty minutes later. They took one look at Richard and both nodded.

"Seen this very often, mate," one of them said with a grin. "I bet you're in agony, ain't you?"

Richard nodded, and winced as the movement of his head caused yet another agonising flash of pain in his back.

"No worries, mate " continued the paramedic cheerfully. "We'll get you up out of that chair now, and Kirsty here will get to work on your back. We'll have you as right as rain in two ticks. Now you just hang on there, and I'll be back in a jiffy."

He was as good as his word. He returned to the sitting room carrying a cannister and a mask and some tubing.

"This is the good stuff," he smiled. "A couple of puffs of this, and you'll be up and out of that chair in no time. I'll set it all up now, and Kirsty can get that blanket off you."

Kirsty gently removed the blanket and looked over at her Olwen, who was nervously watching proceedings from the other armchair.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Simpson," she reassured Olwen. "Rob knows what he's doing. We'll soon have your husband up and running again!"

"Just get him up," Olwen thought to herself, but then she remembered the surprise she had for Richard, and she smiled. She just hoped that he would be in a fit state later on to appreciate it.

Rob had finished his preparations. He put the mask over Richard's nose and mouth and tightened the elastic ties.

"This is gas and air," he explained. "Like they give pregnant women who are in labour. I'll turn it on now, and I want you to take a good couple of deep breaths. It'll make you feel a bit woozy, but that's what we want. Ready?"

Richard nodded, and Rob turned the tap on. A faint hissing could be heard, and Richard started to breathe deeply. Rob let him have about half a dozen breaths and then he closed the tap on the cannister.

He looked at Kirsty, who pulled up one one of Richard's eyelids and looked deep into his eye.

"Give him a few more puffs, Rob," she said quietly. "He's getting there."

Rob opened the tap again and Richard sucked the gas and air down greedily. He giggled.

"I feel a bit pissed," he slurred. "Like I've had about six pints!"

"Excellent!" grinned Rob. "Come on, Kirsty. Let's get this young man on his feet, then you can work your magic on his back."

To Olwen's astonishment, Rob and Kirsty hoisted Richard upright, and he didn't make any protest at all. His head lolled around a bit, and Rob switched off the flow of gas and air. He removed the mask, and Richard grinned stupidly at him.

"I feel bloody great," he said, slapping Rob on the back.

"Yeah? Well lie down on the floor for a sec. My colleague is going to check you over."

"Www!" giggled Richard. "She can check me over any day of the week. She's bloody gorgeous."

"Richard!" shouted Olwen from her armchair. "Don't be so rude! These people have come to help you!"

"I'm so sorry," Olwen apologised to Kirsty. "I don't know what's come over him. He's normally very respectful."

"No sweat, babe," grinned Kirsty. "When you've got a pair of tits as big as mine, I get comments all the time. If only the men who look at them and talk about them knew, they'd soon shut up. I'm a lesbian. Men and their dicks don't interest me."

"Well you certainly wouldn't be interested in Richard and his little dicklet, even if you did like cock!" thought Olwen, as she watched Kirsty roll Richard onto his front. She pulled up his shirt and felt all along his spine. She looked up at Rob.

"Got it!" she said with a satisfied grin. "Lumbar five. I'll just..."

She dug her knuckles into Richard's lower back and began to knead his flesh as if she was making bread. Richard groaned and his left leg twitched a few times. She continued to press and massage his back,and Olwen heard a few alarming crunching noises. Then all of a sudden, Kirsty stopped her handiwork. She rolled Richard onto his back.

"Now I want you to cross your legs at the ankle," she said to Richard. When he had done this, Kirsty rocked him from side to side. Richard gasped.

"Mmm! That's a bit tender," he muttered.

"Don't worry. You'll be a bit stiff for a couple of days, but if you do this rocking every morning and before you go to bed at night, the stiffness will ease. I'll leave you some leaflets showing you how to do some stretches as well. That should help you and prevent this from happening again."

Ten minutes later, Rob and Kirsty were on their way. Richard saw them to the door and thanked them both again. When he returned to the sitting room, he apologised to Olwen for what he said to Kirsty. She winked at him.

"Don't fret," she said with a smile. "All that's worrying me is that Kirsty said your stiffness will wear off. That's our problem, isn't it? We both want you to be as stiff as possible for as long as possible!"

She jumped up from her armchair.

"Now sit down there," she said, waving away Richard's protestations that he really ought to get on with cutting the lawn. "I have a surprise for you."

Olwen disappeared into the kitchen, where she had dumped the shopping when she came in. She rummaged through one of her shopping bags and found what she was looking for. Hiding one package behind her back, she went back into to the sitting room, where Richard sat patiently, waiting for his wife to return.