Bert Ormsby

Swapping with laura

CHAPTER ONE

Laura Saunders gazed out the large picture window of her new home in Park Palisades, California, watching the sizable breakers sweeping in off the sea to thrust themselves in a flash of frothy white spray against the gigantic rock formations that ran the entire length of the coast as far as the eye could see. In this section of California, with its starkly emergent coastline, the young wife had the constant feeling that the sea meant to destroy the land. Lord knew it tried hard enough. Every other day there was a report of some additional section of Highway 101 sliding into the ocean and being devoured in the water's bottomless depths.

Did this mean necessarily that everyone then promptly moved further inland in fear. No, of course not, she thought. People around here simply waited for their own house to go – occasionally with them in it. You just weren't anybody in California if your home wasn't occasionally washed into the sea or destroyed in a roaring forest fire. But they always came back, to build again, didn't they? Like lemmings moving resolutely toward destruction, in the exact same area. It was so beautiful here, though, with the sloping hills before windy, wave-broken, steep-cliffed terraces. So beautiful.

Laura sighed. She pushed her fingers into her long blonde hair and threw her head back and to one side as if to smooth out the waves of shimmering gold which ran all the way down her back to the sensual up-curve of her nicely rounded buttocks. In the Quaker home where Laura had been brought up, it was considered a rather serious moral offense for a girl to cut her hair. And consequently hers was as long as a young school girl's.

She smoothed her hands voluptuously over the flare of her well-rounded hips and thought about her new life in this community. Ever since she and her husband had come to Park Palisades there had been one distraction after another, what with Ralph setting up his new practice as one of the town's few physicians, and now being called out suddenly time after time. One's life really wasn't one's own, was it, although Ralph was certainly making good money and had had no difficulty acquiring this fine house for them right on the coast and not far from the forested glades of Big Sur. This stretch of highway from Monterey to San Luis Obispo must certainly be one of the most eye-pleasing areas in the world.

But somehow that wasn't quite enough.

Laura watched the white gulls circle among the rocks of the emerging coastline, and wondered why she felt so uneasy in such a beautiful setting. The stone seemed to be flowing – the sea, motionless. Where they met they locked in a pause more dynamic than motion. Beyond the white froth the surface of the ocean was an endless sheet of rippling glass. The rocks beyond its measured destructive force were like laws of nature – dark, jagged and forbidding. It was wonderful to be able to view nature like this, safe and warm within one's own cocoon – and yet what was missing?

When she watched the sea like this the often felt as if its adventure was being communicated to her in some ethereal way. She could feel it directly in her loins, up inside her full, highest breasts. Laura had been too well brought up to think of this as sensuality, but she did admit to herself that there was a feeling of excitement running in her blood when she watched the waves breaking like this. She couldn't explain it. It seemed merely as if these two vital life forces colliding together – stone and water – produced some sort of vibration inside her hypersensitive young flesh.

Laura turned away from the window. It wasn't good to submit oneself to too much of that, she thought. There were feelings building within her young body which could only be described as licentious, and she blushed as she considered the implications of her thoughts.

If she had smoked, she would have lit a cigarette. But her strict puritan father stayed her hand there, too. Illicit sex, cursing, cigarettes, coffee, liquor – they were all the work of the devil, he'd said it so often that Laura really felt she believed it. The fact that so many people succumbed to these vices only served to prove the hold that the Fallen One had on the people of the world.

"He walks among us," her father used to say, in any number of his many sermons, intoning sonorously through his bushy dark beard flecked with grey. "He walks among us and he takes our pulse, listens to our heartbeats. He is the Evil One who has fallen."

Laura had been as impressed as her eight brothers and sisters, she supposed, and in all of her twenty-one years she had never smoked a cigarette nor taken a drink of liquor. Her father's warnings had held up well.

And then she had met and married Ralph Saunders, a young man devoted to healing the sick and to making a lot of money, not necessarily in that same order.

Nonetheless Laura had married him, after a whirlwind courtship which had included more than a few attempts on his part to work his masculine will on virginal young flesh. Fortunately her earlier training had sustained her, and she had been able to fight him off just in time, before she became too winded to have any strength. She could remember very dearly the final night of their courtship, when Ralph had been especially demanding and determined to take advantage of her trusting innocence.

She blushed even now to think of it, and only wished that her thoughts wouldn't keep resuming somehow to such lascivious topics. But how could she forget that night – the night when a man had first managed to insinuate himself into the warmth of her sensuously aroused young pussy? Even though it had been only Ralph's finger which had entered her and nothing else.

Laura's nostrils dilated and she looked across the great length of their plushly carpeted living room to the large mirror on the opposite wall. She was wearing a pink chiffon robe which only negligently concealed her sumptuous young curves. Her breasts were full and widely spaced, like ripe white pears. Their uptilt was firm and gravity defying, their tops a gentle ski slope of glossy smooth flesh running into small outswelling areolas topped by strawberry-hued nipples which tended to stiffen embarrassingly easy.

For the rest of her, there were long thighs of soft alabaster flesh tapering into long slender begs, tiny ankles and perfectly fashioned feet. Above the rounded curve of her hour glass hips her waist seemed to disappear, only to flare out aged into a torso that ended in softly squared shoulders. Her face was a perfect oval with cupid's bow lips that had a sultry pout to them, and her complexion was flawless, her cheeks naturally rosy. When Laura fluttered her long dark eyelashes, any man could be forgiven for forgetting himself. Everything taken together, when her long blonde hair was falling softly around her pretty face and shoulders, the only word to describe Laura was breathtaking. She had the body of a wanton burdened by the mind of a puritan.

Her long and slender nail-polished fingers were pulling at the belt of her gown now, and then it was falling open to reveal the smooth expanse of milk-white skin passing from her throat, down between the swelling hillocks of her breasts to the tiny kiss-nook indentation of her navel, and finally ending in the sparse blonde pubic curls nestling over her subtly concealed vaginal slit.

Laura breathed deeply. She knew that by any measure she was a beautiful woman. But why, then, had the sexual side of her marriage failed so? What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she respond, even with the man who was her husband?

Or was Ralph asking for too much? Those lewd things he was always suggesting… it was enough to make any properly brought up girl cringe. But his suggestions were always phrased in such a joking manner… maybe he didn't really mean them?

She was confused. Who was in the wrong and who was in the right? She was no longer so sure as she had been. Was it Ralph's fault, for being some kind of pervert? Or was she too much of a prude as he seemed to be suggesting?

Lord knew she had never yet refused him. She was always willing – even just a trace eager, if the truth were known. And she always lay there obediently when he began, when he approached her between her outstretched legs with his rather dangerous-looking penis swinging upward and jerking lasciviously toward her helpless belly.

Laura shivered, and then blushed as she remembered how he had taken her the week before. He had made love to her so furiously, driving his long thick penis so hard into her wildly acquiescing pussy, that she almost reached a point – a point – in which she had felt she was enjoying herself more than any good girl should.

It was hard to describe the feelings that had assailed her aching loins. A sizable part of it had been so sweet that she was afraid she was going to die from it. A sunburst of pleasure had, seemed on the verge of arriving, but then had subsided as her husband suddenly came, emptying all of his hot wet sperm deep into her writhing young cunt. And then his penis had deflated so fast that she quickly lost interest, even though a moment before, she had thought she would go out of her mind if he didn't continue.

And that was the last time they had had sex. An entire week ago. Ralph seemed to be increasingly disinterested in sex, and more and more tied up at all hours at the new clinic downtown. Little wonder that she had been seeing so much of the Franklins, of late. In the evenings they were really the only people she had to turn to.

Mark and Cleonora Franklin were a beautiful and apparently wealthy couple living in a large stone house further south along the coast road by about two hundred yards. Living there alone with the largest and most dangerous-looking German shepherd Laura had ever seen. Rover was a big, sleek-furred animal with an intelligent face and huge canines that looked as if they could crunch a man in half with little trouble.

But he was also sweet, the sweetest dog Laura knew. Although she had been somewhat afraid of him at first, she had quickly come to rely upon his friendliness and warm personality. Rover often came over to her to lie down with his bushy head in her lap as she stroked her fingers around his large and steeply-pointed ears. He was an affectionate dog and she had never known him to bark or make the slightest untoward move to anyone, and yet to look at him you would think he was the most ferocious thing on two feet.

Laura sighed and went over to the telephone, her slender hand pausing momentarily on the receiver. Should she call Cleonora? She couldn't decide. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she spent a little too much time at the Franklins. But Ralph didn't seem to mind. Indeed it seemed as if he welcomed the fact that she had found a few friends in Park Palisades. He knew very well that she was lonely during the long hours that he was away at work.

And what friends they were, too. Mark and Cleonora had the most magnificent house she had ever seen. Even though it was basically stone, it rose on stilts right out of the very cliffside of the irregular Pacific coastline. Its views were out of this world, and in the evening when the light had gone down, and Cleonora had opened the drapes on the west side of the huge, high-ceilinged and elegantly beamed living room, the house became so relaxing, like a warm womb into which one could retire for a restful doze.

Mark and Cleonora were beautiful people in the sense that they seemed to do everything with such dash and style. She had never known anyone quite like them. When they wanted to go somewhere they were as likely to rent a helicopter as take the ordinary modes of transportation. They kept two big Cadillacs as well as a Rolls-Royce with a built-in bar and a telephone. They never seemed to lack for anything. They were maximum consumers, and bought whatever they wanted whenever they pleased.

She had never in her young life known anyone who lived like that. Her own home life had been fairly frugal, and Ralph had come from a modest background as well. And during his term in medical school money had not come easy. But now they were going to live a new kind of life. She had a car for herself – a new Mustang – and they didn't have to count pennies. Even as a new doctor still wet-behind-the-ears, Ralph made more money than many middle-aged executives who had worked all their lives to get where they were.

So they had money now; they didn't have to scrimp. And Laura could feel free to use part of that money to run a car so that she could spin over to Cleonora's whenever she felt like it.

And why shouldn't she?

She picked up the telephone receiver and began to dial.

CHAPTER TWO

"Why yes, dear. That would be fine. All alone again? Well, never fear. We're always here. Just come around when it suits you. Bye now."

Voluptuous, black-haired Cleonora quickly laid the phone in its cradle and turned to face her handsome husband, who was lying on the nearby sofa without a stitch of clothing on. His tall, long-legged body was covered with a ragged mass of black curly hairs ranging from his ankles upward over his belly to his wide squarish chest, and over the top of his pectorals almost to his neck. At his loins was a healthy accumulation of thick black curls which fanned the base and foundation for his powerful looking penis now held throbbing in his hand. His hand moved slowly on his pulsating rod of warm male flesh, pulling the foreskin up and over the purplish glans. With his other hand he stroked the soft fur at the nape of his German shepherd's neck.

The big dog lay on all four paws by the side of the sofa, his longish tongue hanging out, glistening with moisture. When his sensitive ears caught Laura Saunders' lilting young voice on the telephone, his head jerked up attentively, and a rush of blood flooded his throbbing animal loins. Rover liked the tall, lushly molded young blonde, and whenever he saw her, or heard her throaty voice and gay, happy laugh in the Franklin home, his nostrils flared and it was all he could do to control himself.

But Rover was a well-trained dog, and he would never have dreamed of mounting Laura Saunders without being properly cued. Indeed, everything in him would have rebelled against it. He had been brought up to respond to specific commands and cue words. Despite his menacing appearance, Rover was an animal who never lost control of himself. And, thanks to the Franklins, elegant coaching, this seemed to pay dividends in the long run. The Franklins knew how to work women up until they were ready for him, and he was happy to rely upon their superior judgment.

"Was that Laura Saunders again?" Mark asked pleasantly, continuing to stroke Rover's deeply furred neck while pulling slowly on his own hotly throbbing organ.

Cleonora smiled. "It was," she said, lighting a cigarette. She sat down on the couch next to her husband and passed the cigarette to him. Glancing down she saw that the slightest amount of shining clear pre-cum had issued from the tip of his penis, and she licked her lips in lusty anticipation. She could almost taste Mark's cum on her tongue. It was a drink she almost never tired of quaffing.

"Is that for me or for Laura?" she asked, not even faintly jealous.

"For Rover here," Mark told her, pinching the big dog's throat fur in his fingers. "He gives me more than the both of you put together."

Cleonora pinched her lips together and punched him in the side, making him exclaim. She said, "You are mean, you bastard."

Mark laughed, wrapping his hand around his jerking cock which was waving lewdly about in the air like a redwood tree not quite knowing which way to fall.

"Heh heh. Not so mean as this thing here," he said. His eyes looked mischievously up to hers. "Think you've got the stomach for it?"

Her eyes dilated. He knew very well how much his penis meant to her, and how much she loved to swallow his fiery sperm. But this teasing was part of the game they played interminably. "Maybe not," she said, "but I know I've got the throat for it." And with this she slipped her hands underneath his buttocks, and then slowly lowered her head until her tongue-moistened lips came in contact with the smooth rubbery tip of his cock.

Her red glossed lips parted slightly as she savored the exquisite taste and scent of his throbbing male hardness and her eyelashes fluttered with an old, time-honored emotion. She had fallen in love with Mark Franklin's cock when she was just a schoolgirl in Trenton, New Jersey, and had adored it ever since. Next to Rover's which, of course, was exceptional, Mark's penis was absolutely the most tasty she'd ever run across in a lifetime of searching. Despite all the many cocks that had brought pleasure to her cunt since Mark had first deflowered her at the tender age of thirteen, and despite all the numerous ones that had flooded their cum down her hotly grasping throat as she sucked with a wanton fury on their towering members, Mark's was still the most excruciatingly satisfying rod of flesh she'd ever known in any form. She worshipped it slavishly, and she worshipped her husband with it. She would have done anything for him.

And had. For despite her initial dismay, she had eventually taken part actively in every debauchery he had ever suggested. And with marvelous results. Cleonora had suffered more orgasms than she could scarcely remember. Initially there had just been the usual bit of two-couple wife-swapping, and she had discovered to her happy surprise that she could enjoy other cocks in her mouth, cunt and anus than just her handsome husband's.

Consequently she tended to trust Mark's judgment in sexual matters somewhat more than her own. She had opened up new vistas of pleasure for her that transcended all her previous hedonistic experiences. How could she possibly deny him anything?

Cleo could still remember their first swapping experience with some tolerant amusement. What a naive little baby she'd been then! How coy and blushing, like a new bride. She'd been nervous the entire first part of the evening as the two couples worked their way toward each other, got to know each other better. And then when Mark had taken the other woman into his arms, she had seen that there was really no turning back. Rather sheepishly, she had let the other man make love to her, until finally she found to her amazement that he was driving her wild with lust! When his blood-hardened penis had finally thrust upward through her curling ebony pussy hay, pushing the soft wet flesh of her cuntal opening back along its entire inner length, Cleonora had literally thought she would die from the way her loins clasped it for joy. And then as he had begun to fuck into her with solid, slow, agonizingly long strokes, she had found to her amazement that watching Mark fucking the man's wife as well only served to make the whole thing that much more exciting.

And apparently Mark felt the same way, too. For despite her active fears that he would really be terribly jealous and enraged to see her enjoying herself with someone else, quite the opposite proved to be true. So that eventually it became standard to arrange things so that they could watch each other having sex with someone else. Mark seemed to get his biggest kicks out of this, and frequently he even helped other men to mount her.

Cleo hadn't exactly been thrilled by the thought of letting anyone else insert himself into the tightly budded anus she had originally saved only for her handsome husband. But she had eventually relented there, too, after being well worked up to it. So that one evening in a drunken, half-dazed state she had allowed Mark to prop up her buttocks as another man inserted his thick middle deep into her snugly clasping rectum. Thus stretched and prepared, she had allowed herself to be maneuvered until the stranger could slide his rigidly erected cock in between her straining ass-cheeks, and then mewled with joy as his throbbing hot penis broke through her tight anal entrance and passed forward and up into her writhing young belly.

After that, of course, the dam had broken. After being fucked in her anus and her vagina it would have been asking a lot for her to resist sucking warmly on all the wonderful cocks that had given her so much pleasure.

So for a long time they had gone on like this, swapping with couples here and there. And Mark proved to have been right. All this additional extracurricular sex did have an enlivening effect on their otherwise placid marriage, and did serve to make their own sex lives much more keen. She seemed to have more orgasms each and every time, and their lives and marriage had become exciting, vibrant, full of promise.

And then they had begun to widen their circle of interests.

They experimented with black leather and domination and found neither to their own particular tastes. They tried menage a trois with a young blonde girl who moved in to live with them, but this satisfied Mark more than it did her, and she found it impossible to develop any permanent lesbian feelings toward the girl.

Then at last they seemed to find what they were looking for in orgies with multiple participants. Such adventures gave Cleonora a virtually endless supply of lust-quenching cocks, and Mark also enjoyed the great variety of women he was able to indulge.

They enjoyed, as well, a variety of caterpillar copulations and daisy chains during these multiple orgies. On some occasions there were upwards of twenty persons combined in a writhing, gurgling happy mass on the Franklin living room carpet, sometimes stretching out through the French doors right to poolside, all connected in one way or another, with penises in pussies and mouths and anuses, and female lips sucking cocks and cunts alike, and men with their tongues driving wildly up between girls' parted legs.

And then Rover had come to live with them.

Now Cleonora couldn't imagine which had affected her life more. Was it her first meeting with Mark in the balcony of the Bijou Theatre in Trenton when she was just twelve years old and he, a mature eighteen, had managed to push his fingers up under the elastic leg band of her frilly white panties to insert them into the soft moist outer flesh of her virginal pussy? Or was it the fact that they had bought Rover on an impulse one idle afternoon in Sausalito.

At first he had been just a cute little puppy, but then he had begun to change, to get older and bigger, becoming as powerful and dangerous-looking a German shepherd as any Cleonora had ever seen in her life.

Initially she had tried to deny to herself that he set something to stirring inside her, that she could feel her blood warming when she looked at him. The fact that she enjoyed herself physically with a great many men – always with Mark's consent and co-operation – did not necessarily mean that she was prepared to extend her affections as well in a direction to which she had always been brought up to believe lay only perdition and unspeakable depravity.

How, then, had it all come about?

The beginning of the affair had been rather cursory. She and Mark had been lounging about the living room one evening, just alone by themselves warming their naked flesh in the open wood fire of the fireplace. Rover was just over a year old then, and from a small, playful puppy he had grown into a rather stoutly masculine young beast, finely formed in every way. His large head he held with commanding dignity, often cocking it intelligently to one side when he attended their conversations. His eyes were large and brown, and bespoke of considerable depth of feeling and understanding. The fine sleek fur of his coat glistened with a sheen born of good food and fine health. When Rover moved, his powerful muscles rippled in a way that Cleonora could only describe to herself as primitively exciting. He was easily the most masculine animal she'd ever seen – next to Mark, of course.

For a long time the dark-haired young wife had come to feel very close to her handsome dog, and she often stroked him as she lay around naked, talking to him pleasantly about one thing and another. It seemed scarcely possible that he was the same little puppy grown to full-blown strength and mature doghood.

On the evening in question, Cleo had found herself glancing at Rover just a little more than usual – as his thick red penis had begun emerging from the smooth softness of its furry sheath, and she was just a little breathless to note its throbbing and rather awe-inspiring hardness.

"Big, isn't it?" Mark had asked, watching her as his hand moved lazily up and down along his own masculine rigidity. He was lying on another couch with one leg resting easily on the floor. The drapes across the high western windows were totally open and the sea was crashing with breakers of foam and spray against the mighty rocks of the California shore. The twilight gave everything a softly sensual glow, as they had not yet put on the lights.

Cleonora had gulped rather nervously and watched in awe as Rover's cock slid out to its full blood-swollen length before her very eyes, partly pink and partly red, glistening beneath its transparent sheen with some sort of pre-coital juice.

The dog was seated on the floor by the white satellite-shaped television globe, and as his penis reached its full length he had inclined his head – with his eyes locked tightly on hers – and imparted to his mightily rigid organ the full wet slap of his moist pink tongue, sliding it obscenely along the entire length of his exposed organ from base to bevel-shaped tip.

Cleo could feel herself gasping for air as she watched the German shepherd lick his own penis with slow, calculating movements, wrapping his tongue hotly around his organ and running it like some sort of imitation cunt up and down along its pulsating hard length.

The young wife had never seen an animal doing this before, and it quite took her breath away. She didn't know why, but she could almost feel as if it were her own tongue licking that hard cock from base to tip. She had seen numerous human penises in her time, but Rover's outsized dog-cock was easily the most awe-inspiring that had ever threatened to dislodge her senses.

There was no way of knowing the exact moment that her loins had begun secreting a warm heavy moisture of arousal that washed down through her vagina and out between the moist outer lips of her trembling pussy, into the softly curling dark hair of her cuntal triangle. It seemed to have crept upon her unawares, and before she knew what was happening, her belly was clenching and unclenching as if in lewd desire for a long thick penis to fill her hungry depths.

Of course she was utterly ashamed and embarrassed that she was turning on to a dog. There was no disguising her discomfiture, either, for Mark invariably knew when she was aroused. Her lushly-molded breasts quivered with sensual expectancy and her rose red nipples swelled into hard little buttons of flesh, throbbing with a need too strong to be denied. When her nipples came up like this there was not much hope of concealing what she was feeling. Her loins were awash and there was no ignoring the fact that watching Rover lick at his own penis had excited her desperately.

"Turns you on, hey?" Mark said with bitingly accurate perception.

Her nostrils flared and she looked at him.

Her husband had nodded towards their handsome and finely-made household pet. "Go ahead," he said. "It doesn't take a mind reader to see that you'd like to give old Rover a whirl. Put his cock in your mouth, why don't you? Big Daddy won't mind. And that's a promise."

She blinked anxiously and began moving across the floor on all fours to where Rover lay beneath the huge white television table. The big dog jerked up his head, unwrapping his tongue from his glistening penis, distracted from his self-fellation by his mistress's curious behavior.

He watched her dancing breasts dance whitely beneath her body as she moved across the floor, her nipples hard and grazing the carpet from moment to moment as she crawled. Ordinarily he didn't really notice his mistress's breasts, but in this crawling position they seemed to hypnotize him as they swung back and forth. The big dog shifted as his penis emerged still farther, pulsing with blood. The way his curvaceous young mistress was coming towards him was wildly exciting, and the similarity to bitches-in-heat he had known was inescapable. But what was she up to?

It was only moments before Cleonora, driven by her husband's lewd suggestion, was at last clutching the handsome dog's furry shanks, but it had seemed like an eternity. Her mouth watered hungrily, filling to the brim with saliva, and she gazed raptly and with ardent, unconcealed desire at Rover's massive canine cock.

She glanced back at Mark then, just for a moment.

And he nodded. "Go ahead, honey. You deserve it. Love him to death. And the big brute has a prick on him about two miles long. It'll go into your mouth and come out your belly. Christ, I've got to see this."

And with this she uttered a little sigh of complete enchantment and happiness, her head falling forward almost simultaneously as her fingers gripped the base of his hotly throbbing shaft of muscle, her long, sleek, straight black hair spreading out all over his flanks as her open mouth moved forward to capture his glistening red animal penis.

Rover shifted position awkwardly as he sensed what his mistress was doing, every nerve ending and sinew in his body crying out for it. He had loved his beautiful black-haired mistress forever, it seemed, and invariably the blood pounded in his swiftly maturing loins when he looked at her, or heard her sensually husky voice. So that this was now a dream come true – her warm moist mouth availing like a bitch's cunt over his burning hot member, then closing in a soft wet pressure around it.

His sharp teeth chattered in his head as Cleo began ardently to suck. Groans of pleasure escaped the German shepherd's throat in chorus with the sighs and mewls issuing happily from his mistress's lips around his pulsating rod of flesh.

As for Cleonora, she could not remember when she had sucked with more fervor on a lust-engorged shaft of male hardness. The sheer deliciousness of Rover's penis was impossible to compare with anything else in her considerable experience. It was succulent, warm, throbbing, and fiercely masculine. With her tongue and mouth laving it to death, she felt as if she were growing dizzy and in another moment would swoon dead away from sensual happiness. As her lips and tongue moved over his slippery rigidity, feeling every last lurid pulsation and blood-swollen ridge, her pussy moistened hopelessly and her cock-hungry belly felt as if it were full of butterflies. This warm animal penis was well worth worshipping, and she wanted nothing better than to feel its sticky cum shooting outward and upward into the depths of her throat.

Which it did with a swiftness that the lewdly sucking brunette was totally unprepared for. For Rover's loins had been holding his cum as if in an overheard pressure cooker, just waiting for the moment to spew it forth.