Swapping Wives

Giggling, and laughing, and whispering, we finish getting undressed, hang up what needs to be hung, and fall into bed. And once we're actually in bed, after turning the lights out, as if by some unspoken agreement, we all settle down to really making love--cool, calm, quiet, loving love--each of us oblivious to the couple in the next bed, who are likewise engaged.

Although not quite oblivious: My mind keeps on wandering to visions of Clara--dropping down, her knees between my legs; meeting my hungry gaze; her eyes twinkling in anticipation; before rounding her lips and pushing onto my quivering cock, fully engulfing me; then, initiating a slow steady rhythm. Meanwhile, my dear wife--in the here-and-now--has got me teetering on the very edge of orgasm, dragging my attention back to her delightful reality.

The next morning, after some quick good-morning snuggling and groping on both beds, and a delightful room-service breakie, we, the guys, start getting ready for the full-body, premium massage appointments we've arranged. Again, Lori surprises me when she says, "Before these guys go for their massages, before we go to our appointments," (They, it turns out, are going to get waxed this morning--bikini/pussy waxing, and legs.) "how about a fellatio race--side by side blowjobs?" Then, looking directly at Clara, she issued the challenge. "I'll bet you I can swallow Dave's cum before you can swallow Joel's." And the race is on--first to swallow wins! And, yet, a part of me--admittedly, a rather irrational part--wants to savour it, wants to make it last; hence, unsurprisingly, they win. I am, somewhat, concerned that both girls are left unsatisfied, and I say as much, but, as they are going for waxing "down there," they insist that they don't want the aestheticians to have to deal with messy pussies, so I drop it.

It is late morning when we arrive back at the room, fresh from our sessions, eager and horny. The girls tell us they've been back for twenty minutes, already. Reflecting on our earlier challenge, the conversation strays to how fellatio compares to cunnilingus--how women can cum multiple times, but men, even if they can have multiple climaxes, need recovery time in between.

"Notwithstanding," Carla announces, "What we need, now, is a cunnilingus challenge.'

"After all," Lori chimes in, "fair is fair."

Then Clara adds, as an after-thought, "But we warn you, you've gotta be quick. We've got further spa treatments at noon." Following which, they proceed to display their wonderfully slick, smooth pussies--both bald, except for a small, neatly trimmed and shaped bit of bush: Lori's, a landing strip, and Clara's, a downward arrow-head.

I can't speak for Joel, but it is such an amazingly enticing, novel feeling tracing my fingers over the soft smoothness of Lori's clean-shaven pud. I could have run my fingers up and down her pussy for ages, except we need to move on. Briefly clearing my throat, I announce the next challenge, as it were. "I'll bet Lori can cum faster on my tongue, than Clara can on yours, Joel."

With no need of prompting, the girls swiftly finish undressing--taking off what little clothing they have on. As they settle themselves, lying back on the beds, knees splayed, Lori calls out the start: "Ready! Set! Go!" and Joel and I enthusiastically dive in, face-first. As wonderful as it felt beneath my fingers, dragging my tongue across Lori's smoothness and along her furrow is positively delightful! As I start to lick in earnest, her pussy begins to glow, her swelling labia part to reveal puffy inner lips, moistening and radiating, separating to allow my tongue to poke into her vagina, and sweep across her clit. As Lori begins to gasp and heave and twitch under my relentless lingual assault, my mind jumps ahead in anticipation of how Clara will react.

Yessiree..., they're going to do it. I can tell. I can't see Joel, right now, but I'm sure he feels it, too. Yessss! They're just setting up a basis of comparison for us. It's going to happen! It's really going to happen! The more I think about it, the deeper and more insistently I delve into Lori's delicious box; still contemplating what Clara will taste like, what subtle differences I'll discern.

They win--probably because Joel is less distracted than me--but we come in a close second, Lori's hips quaking, her butt bouncing up against my face while Clara and Joel are still cheering. Once we have recovered, the girls announce that they have a surprise for us boys in the afternoon. It's now 11:30!

"We're going for our facial appointments first. You fellas go and have a good long workout in the exercise room--and don't come back until after 1:00!" Then they're off, with a chaste peck on our cheeks; each giving a sly smile and wave over their shoulders as they disappear into the corridor, heading for the elevators.

Letting out a long, held breath, Joel and I quietly rejoice, voicing what we had secretly hoped for. "Almost there!" We high-five, then I explain to Joel my 'basis of comparison' theory. Impatiently, we head for the gym, to stay active, while we wait until the prescribed time; allowing the girls time to set the stage. We return from our workout at exactly 1:00, having already showered.

The room is empty; the girls are gone--bags and all.

Looking about in disbelief, Joel spies a note, left conspicuously on the night-stand. "Check for new emails to Dave, after 1:00. Joel, keep your email accessible." I scramble to open my newest message, an email from Lori. The subject line reads, "Listen". The email itself is a voice-recording message. Joel stands with his mouth agape as we listen to the girls taking turns speaking. I imagine the look on my face is no less stunned. Unable to fully comprehend, we play the message a second and third time.

The communique goes something like this--actually, as we have listened to it three times--make that, it goes exactly like this:

"First of all," Lori starts out, "Let me say, we are pissed off--extremely pissed off with the two of you."

"Uh-oh," I think, "This isn't the way this is supposed to go." But they've only just begun.

Clara: "Pissed off, and hurt..., that you guys think so little of us as to expect we wouldn't figure it out."

Lori: "I mean, give us a break! Any woman with half a brain could readily see your goal through your thinly veiled plans."

Clara: "What do you take us for? Easily manipulated bimbos?"

Lori: "You could have just come right out and suggested or, heaven forbid, even just asked us."

Clara: "Yeah, instead of being sneaky about it."

Lori: "Notwithstanding, during the past couple hours, Clara and I have had a very enlightening conversation."

Clara: "And it turns out--surprise, surprise--that neither of us actually lived as innocents in college."

Lori: "We both had our share of casual sex."

Clara: "And both have had some experience with multiple partners!"

Both: "Does that surprise you?"

They coyly giggle at the coincidental remark, before getting serious once more.

Just at that moment, an email for Joel from Clara arrives: subject line, "Illustrations". It is an assortment of selfies, POVs, and static-mount time-delay pictures of the two wives swapping spit and finger-fucking one another, also munching one another's pussies, and going at it 69--mostly, it would appear, in our bedrooms; and all running as a lazy slide-show, while the recorded communication continues.

Lori: "Something you didn't know about me is that I lived my entire second year at college with a lesbian partner to whom I was completely faithful. When she graduated and went back home or whatever, I drifted back into heterosexual sex. I just found out that Clara had dabbled in girl-on-girl sex throughout college, too."

Clara: "And I loved it--perhaps not enough to completely switch teams, but enough to play both sides until I met you, Joel."

Lori: "Still, because we love you, all is forgiven."

Clara: "And we've decided to give you what you apparently want."

Lori: "We've decided to let you have our take your spouse-swapping fantasy."

Clara: "So, I've swapped my husband for Dave's wife;"

Lori: "Conversely, I've swapped my husband for Joel's wife."

After a slight, chuckling, pause--I assume, to let it sink in--they concluded.

Clara: "To avoid complications, we've taken a room elsewhere."

Lori: "We're going to explore the intricacies of Sapphic love."

Clara: "Probably see you Sunday."

Lori: "Otherwise, we'll be in touch."

Clara: "Enjoy yourselves."

Lori: "Stay out of trouble."

The recording ends with kissing sounds.

Joel hisses, "What the fuck?"

I stand motionless, staring at my cell. I feel gutted! "My sentiments, exactly!"