KOI 08: Country Swing

Country Swing

Somewhere out a ways; I forget

Becca, the gregarious one, had always been more curious than I. But Sher and Gary knew enough to take it slow with me. Nevertheless, the four new people in the strange new house distracted me. Not quite obscured, down the hall, Becca was getting fucked by two guys we'd only met a few hours earlier. The one named Joe, the ponytailed one in his thirties, was loudly extolling the delights of Becca's avidity. Bran, the tall one, was just laughing a Texas redneck laugh. Who were these guys?

Sher and Gary had dressed and left together to get more stuff for next day's breakfast. They had left me in this strange country house, half-drunk, sitting flaccid on the livingroom couch between Judy and the birthday girl. Mary had turned thirty today. Sher had explained that Mary'd been depressed for weeks about her upcoming birthday. The surprise party at Judy and Joe's was meant to get her mind off the date, make her know that it was okay. Me, I was having a hard time getting my mind off of Judy and Joe. Who were these people?

The party started off like any typical suburban soiree, though everyone present was aware that it wouldn't break up until the next morning. Gary and Sher knew the other couples well, so the icebreaking after the Mary-surprise was focussed on us. How long had we known the Sieberts? Were we new to "swinging?" (I cringed at the word.) Did we want to sleep over? Hey, great!

"It's easy," said bluff Joe. "You just have to stay loose, go with the flow."

Sure, Joe. I'd go with the Maker's Mark, this afternoon. And I knew enough to avoid the weed. Becca was smoking enough for the two of us, anyway.

We'd fed on the typical suburban buffet, then the women repaired to the basement and returned giggling in -- Gawd! -- a lot of Judy's lingerie. Bran was really turned on by this. Up to that point, I'd thought the big, sandy-haired hick was sort of okay. Joe turned the stereo up a notch.

Rock'n'roll had really gone to hell by the early seventies.

The "dancing" started. The men's clothes had come off, the women's nondescript lingerie had stayed on, and Becca had me perform with her, more or less standing up in the living room. Bran and Joe shouted encouragement, along with proud Sherrie. I guessed they were all alright. For a couple of minutes, I got into the scene.

Then, so did everyone else. Like I said before, it was distracting.

I came, then went straight to the couch. Becca. She really amazed me. Then Sher and Gary left. Why were they abandoning me?

Things broke up when Becca scrambled down the hall with Joe and Bran. The record-changer had run through its rancid disks, and nobody bothered to pile them up again. Mary and Judy had finally noticed me, and I was feeling bad enough to let them take me up on the couch. I liked them better than their husbands.

Mary seemed especially nice. She was a typical midsized Southern Illinois blonde, skin barely tanned, tangled hair a natural "peroxide" silverwhite. Her face reminded me of Sondra Locke, or any of several bony reporters on the St Louis television news shows. There was a lively dumbness in her pale blue eyes, as if she was actively choosing to remain a "girl." During the women's dance routines, she'd mimed moves from her career as a high school "far [fire] twirler." She'd picked up the Texas accent after moving south with Bran for a couple of years. She hadn't lost it since they'd come back to run her Dad's John Deere dealership.

Mary opened her arms to me after I made room for her in the corner of the couch. I curled up to her like a baby. We were both dry, sweet-smelling, despite the lingering stickiness around our genitals. Judy's cheap nightie was too short on Mary's body, though it was far from tight.

Judy returned from the bathroom and smiled at us. Four-seven? Four-eight? But proportioned nicely, with sturdy but shapely legs and a trim round butt. The broad, strong face of an Anglo elf, with a touch of the natural mouthbreather. Really sharp hazelgreen eyes, brown hair cut short but full. Flesh like mine, but not quite so freckled.

"Mind if I sit here?" Judy asked.

She settled in right next to us, taking advantage of my infantine curl to pull thigh onto thigh with Mary. It was obvious that Mary and Judy were "close," in that not quite outed manner that Becca herself had displayed with other girls. I was beginning to understand that it was the same sort of unqueer sympathy we males share when sharing women. But women seemed less afraid of getting nearer one another, able to encourage with kisses as well as words.

Judy's round white thigh was pushing me closer into Mary's lean belly. She shuffled off her "teddy," or whatever it was called. Judy looked better, naked. Her breasts were fine, robust, though not outsized. Her strong shoulders and back were not made to wear lingerie. Judy curled a well-formed arm around both Mary and me, and cuddled still closer against both of us. It was comfortable, not overtly sexy at all. Still, I was trying to lose myself in Mary's hair, nuzzling into her neck and jawbone. Mary's skin was a little older, dryer than I'd nuzzled before. But it was oddly babylike, too, powdery white.

"Your girlfriend is beautiful," proffered Mary.

"Mumph," I agreed.

"How much have you guys swung?"

"Three or four times. Other couples, I mean. Sort of long-term engagements, mostly. Affairs. We call it coupling."

Judy cuddled still closer, laying a head on my shoulder laying against Mary. Judy's other hand came around my front to play fingers lightly along Mary's waist.

Mary twisted her head around to give me a peck. I suppose I was beginning to tickle.

"Whose idea was it?" she asked, with a curious timidity.

"I don't know. Really. It just sort of happened. We just discovered we both liked to work that way."

"That's nice," said Mary. She moved deeper into the corner of the sofa, relaxing longer along the cushions. Judy and I adjusted ourselves accordingly, and wound up pretty much as before. The nightie was worked well up Mary's midriff, and our six legs lay tangled together off the couch. Mary's white legs were loosely muscled, shapely, skin a little puffy. There were slight, not distracting indications of cellulite along her thighs. Judy's legs were rounder, equally shapely in smallgirl fashion, with tighter texture. My legs (for the record) fell somewhere between the two in shapeliness, with Judy's skintone beneath all the curly blond-red hair. Judy tucked her forearm harder into my belly, gripping Mary's waist, firm. Judy's hands were very clean-cut, but strong enough for any kind of work or play.

"This is our first sort of 'orgy'," I continued. "Before, it's always been mostly two-on-two with people we knew."

Judy spoke up. I felt her face against my shoulder. "That was the way it was for us, too. Then Joe started getting 'organized.' I like two-on-two best. It's easier to get to know people, that way."

Judy moved her hand from Mary's waist and began tickling fingertips over my disinterested cockhead. I felt warm and good between the two bodies, the bourbon dozing in my brain, the early-evening sun slanting onto the couch. It had quieted down, down the hall.

Becca.

My prick began to react to Judy's touch.

"Bran talked me into all of this," Mary said. "It's fun. I like people. But I really just do it to make my hubby proud."

Judy and I snickered appreciatively. Mary had assumed her most girlish voice to make her last admission.

I'd finally moved my hand under Mary's nightie to touch her round, not-quite-drooping breasts. I felt her nipples harden a little to my touch, and shook myself to twist myself higher to Mary's thin, well-carved face. Mary let herself be kissed, and Judy bent to take my cock in her full, strong lips.

*****

"Go git her, Rick." Bran hadn't caught my usual nickname.

Bran had hauled Mary out to the shed right after breakfast. It was better than an hour twenty minutes later, now. He'd started her up, I was last in line.

Mary's arms were over her head, lashed to the bare scaffolding inside the outbuilding. Her body was lounging amid rags; she was half-clad in her own open, sleeveless pajama tops. She was lying on a crotch-high workbench, legs dangling over. She raised them at sight of me. Their lean loose muscles quivered. Her white calves...

Bran was half-draped over the workbench himself, had Mary's head pillowed in his arms. He was studying her with real appreciation, like a prizewinning cattleman. It had been an easy night for Mary, with only Gary in her bed. Bran wanted to see a real test, I guess.

Bran and Joe and Gary and me, Joe and Gary and...

The cigarette Joe offered me outside the shed was welcome. I'd smoked about three cigarettes in my life, but this was the first I'd ever wanted.

"Bran really likes to show off his wife," Joe said after his first puff.

"Yeah. He's got a lot to be proud of," I said. Man talk.

"Your girlfriend, though... Wow!" Joe enthused. "She's really hot!"

"Yeah."

"Man, you should really take advantage of this scene. I mean, these days I can only get up for one of these weekends every month or so. But you guys are still young. And that chick of yours... Man, she's hot!"

Joe was a semipro writer. A pretty articulate guy.

We were standing stark nekkid in inadequate shrub cover on the Illinois prairie, outside the shack, waiting for my call for seconds. Hey, I wanted to have another go at Mary. I was getting into this stuff.

Gary walked out of the shed, wobbly kneed.

"Hey Rich, you out there?"

"Let's get on back to the womenfolk," drawled Joe to Gary, sort of mocking Bran's talk.

"Remember, stay loose," Joe told me as they moved back up the yard.

I stuck it in straight, standing up. Jerk in, jerk in.

"Oh, the sweet one," Mary gasped.

"You like him, huh?"

Everyone but me had spent a lot of time on top of Mary that morning. The night before, I'd let Judy take me under her wing. Judy was Joe's age, but looked younger. We'd wound up together in the basement bed, sober after the late second supper. Judy and I talked about swinging, or coupling. She'd given the scene a lot more thought than Becca or I had ever wanted to think. Her talk helped. Then Judy sucked me off again. She didn't want anything else from me. We awoke in the morning, real if passing friends.

Mary's twat, amazingly, had lost none of its snap. She no longer smelled so sweet, but her pink hole was unworn, lively. The rest of Mary was well out of it. She kept her eyes shut, and started shaking again with my third stroke. I gave thought to her position, though, and waddled back from her. Took her legs in my arms and curled them up onto the bench. Curled myself over her sideways hips. Stuck myself into her again, from behind.

Mary's creamy white buttocks were long, and soft. I held her neck with my left hand hard up her back, stroked her softmuscled thighs with my right. My edgewise stroke curved dick within her at a new angle of pressure. The effect on us was keening.

"M-more cock!" Mary wailed.

"Touch her down there, touch her down there!" Bran directed.

I moved my right hand into Mary's silverwhite crotch, knuckled into her reddened top. I could feel my rod stroking as I searched for Mary's bud.

"You like your little man tickled, don't you?" Bran asked Mary.

"Umm, Humm!" Mary said, girlishly.

"You take Rich good, now. Then it'll be just you and me."

"Umm, Humm!

"Yeah, Rich, take me goood!"

Mary had stiffened once I found her clit. It was hard to tell where things were in the goo. I rolled thumb there, then stuck three more fingers down alongside my staff. Mary's vag closed in on it all.

I had to pull my hand out. Mary's shaking had turned almost convulsive. Sweating Bran was trying to keep her head from banging on the surrounding wood. It would have been smarter to have untied her then.

I shook myself into the wracked pussy. The cum burned at the base of my prostate, but wouldn't come.

"Owhgh," went Mary. She sounded like she was dying. She didn't sound as if she minded it.

I thought about Judy's mouth. Her full lips, fat tongue. I thought about how I hadn't had anything of Judy's sex. Wouldn't ever have it.

The burning ripped up my pipe, fine, and even after the last hour she'd had, Mary felt it and went "Fuuucghk!"

Bran was cutting her down while I skipped out of the shed.

"See you back in the house!"