Frank Markser

Teaching swapping

CHAPTER ONE

The warm spring had finally come to Winter Garden, Florida. The light overland breeze from the nearby Gulf of Mexico no longer held that slightly chill dampness of a week ago, and the southern sun hanging low in the west was like a molten gold coin in the perfect unbroken blue of the sky. Everybody was soaking up the sun, starting their first tan of the year with the still gentle rays – another week and it would be so scorching hot here by the pool the skin would blister and peel, but now it would slowly foster a bronze, bum-proof skin good for the rest of the summer.

At the semi-exclusive Teachers' Country Club, the fine weather had brought out the members in droves. The swimming pool glistened blue-green beneath the gracefully dipping palm trees, and the bolder teachers had come with their swim suits prepared to take advantage of the inviting, freshly cleaned pool.

Lying side by side at the edge of the sparkling clear water, two attractive wives so much alike they could be twins were exposing as much of themselves to the sun as they could in public. They lay as though asleep or dead, only the slow rise and fall of the smooth tautness of their bellies attesting to the fact that they were very much alive.

Watching the two blondes sunning themselves, Fred Furness wondered for the hundredth time why the one who was Tommy Singleton's wife, Linda, turned him on so much. Sure, she had long, sleekly tapering legs that flared out from her wide inviting hips into shapely thighs and calves. But so did his own wife Grace lying beside her. True, she had firmly pointed breasts out to here, but they were no better than Grace's. Fred couldn't deny that Linda Singleton had lusciously rounded ass-cheeks, almost completely visible under the scanty bikini when she walked, but Grace would not suffer from comparison.

Then, why, he asked himself again, why did Tommy's wife interest him so much he could hardly take his eyes off her young body whenever they were together? Fred Furness looked back and forth from his wife to his friend's wife over and over, at the same time reminding himself that he had absolutely no complaints about his own wife as a woman in bed. She was more than enough for any man, even one as naturally horny as he himself had always been.

Suddenly, he thought he had the answer to his own question.

Maybe it was because Linda Singleton thought she was above it all. She was so aloof in her manner that it somehow bugged Fred Furness. It was as though she knew his mind was obsessed by sex and passion, and to her that made him dirty, beneath contempt. She never seemed to vie with the other women for the attentions of men, no matter on how innocent a level it was conducted. Most of the wives occasionally flirted with husbands not their own, even the women who would never dream of being unfaithful and going to bed with another man. But Linda had had a very puritanical upbringing. She thought that that kind of thing with any man except her own husband was an unforgivable transgression against her marriage vows. In other words, he thought, she was what he called a goody-goody girl, and such people always presented a challenge to him he could not ignore.

It was true, he reflected, that the Singletons had been married only a few weeks, and maybe her attitude was understandable. But Furness and Tommy Singleton had been colleagues as high school coaches for a long time, and he had known his friend's new bride Linda almost as long as her husband. They had been dating each other for over a year before finally getting married, and from Tommy's stories, as well as from his own personal observations, Fred had sized up her prudishness. He had even warned Tommy in private that such a woman might prove to be a problem after they were married. Naturally, Tommy could only think of the delights her body promised him, and Linda had had enough instinctive femininity to let Tommy get tantalizingly close from time to time, always putting off the moment of truth until after the wedding. The old carrot-in-front-of-the-horse game, Fred mused sarcastically.

As he watched from his rattan chair near the poolside where he and Tommy Singleton had been having a drink, the two wives walked past him toward the low diving board. They were going to cool themselves in the water again after fifteen minutes in the hot, slow-broiling sun. Fred Furness deliberately let Linda Singleton catch him staring lasciviously at her swinging loins barely covered by the brief white bikini. When she walked, she inadvertently swayed her hips in an enticing manner that some women had to practice for years. Her blue eyes opened wide at his undisguised interest, and he playfully winked at her, making the action obscenely suggestive enough to make her blush. She jerked her head disdainfully, turning her eyes away from his and forming a little pout of disgust with her full lips that had a damp sparkle to them.

He decided then and there that he would find a way to get into her prissy little panties, and soon. He would teach her to treat his natural impulses as though they were crude and coarse. The self-satisfied little bitch, he growled softly to himself as he made a forced smile for his wife's benefit. He could see that Grace had noticed what had happened and sensed what his reaction would be. Thank God, he thought, that Grace felt about these matters just as he did. In the past she had even helped him to make out with other women, and he had never hesitated to let her have a little fun on the side either. They had found after the first five years of their marriage that an occasional taste of "strange", as they called it, made what they had together even better.

As the wives climbed the short ladder to the diving board, Fred glanced toward the self-service bar to see if he could spot Tommy getting them new gin and tonics.

As her hands grasped the cool metal of the iron ladder, Linda Singleton stole another secret look at Fred Furness, his head turned away as if he were looking for someone. What a disgusting man, the lovely young blonde thought. Although she knew he couldn't be over thirty-five at the most, he had developed a slight paunch from inactivity, his otherwise muscular body slightly flabby for the same reason. She could see that he must have been a well-built, ruggedly handsome man at one time like her husband Tommy, and she hoped that Tommy would take better care of himself than that. Fred's stomach was covered by coarse black strands of hair thickening toward the waistband of his scarlet swimming trunks, but that wouldn't bother her if it weren't for the slight bulge. And the thinning hair forming a black widow's peak above his forehead would look distinguished if his face beneath weren't so vulgar with the full sensual lips and deep-set dark eyes that always seemed to be undressing women.

She reached the top of the ladder and watched Grace ahead of her preparing to take a dive. Still young and vivacious at twenty-eight, it would be easy to believe it if Grace said she was twenty-one. Her flesh was still smooth and supple, even at the creased juncture of her upper thighs and softly rounded buttocks where most women started showing their age very early. As Linda watched her friend in front of her flex her calf muscles and prepare to make a spring, she wondered how such a sweet girl could stand kissing her animal brute of a husband, not to mention having his rough hirsute fingers touching the tender curves of her body. Shivering slightly as she thought of it, Linda told herself it was bad enough putting up with the insistent nightly demands of her own husband Tommy these last few weeks, and she hoped and prayed that he would soon get over his initial hunger for her flesh and settle for making love once or twice a week.

But he seemed to be getting worse, not better, she reflected. Just last night, for instance, Tommy had tried to get her to put her mouth on him down there under the covers, only giving up when she had burst into tears and begged him not to make her do it. After that, he had mumbled something she didn't understand under his breath and turned on his side, his back to her.

The innocent young bride still couldn't quite believe that the man she had married had tried to force her to do that. It was something she had only heard some of the bolder girls at school whispering about, an act so obviously perverse and degrading that she was sure only the most debased and lewd professional prostitutes would submit to performing it on any man.

Thankfully, her thoughts returned to the present as Grace rose from the spring-board in front of her in a graceful toe-touching dive and entered the water without a splash. Linda watched as her body plunged deep into the pool and then arched and broke through the rippled surface at the far end of the pool. Grace began treading water with effortless ease and looked back in Linda's direction, giving her head a shake to throw her wet golden hair back over her shoulders.

"Come on, Linda. It feels sooo good," she laughed.

Without hesitating, Linda took two steps and bounced upward once from the board, doing a jackknife just as perfectly as her companion. She curved through the water and bobbed up to the surface a few inches away from Grace, her skin thrilling from the refreshing coolness of the water. Then together they swam lazily across the length of the pool and pulled themselves dripping up the ladder out of the water. Half a minute later, they were stretched out once more side by side, this time on their stomachs.

Fred Furness had watched with appreciation the two wives plunging one after the other into the pool, feeling a sudden warm tingle down in his loins at the view of Linda's tautly stretched buttocks when she doubled over in the air to touch her toes. Boy, would I like to get into her from behind like that, he groaned to himself. And then he noticed Tommy crossing the patio with the drinks.

It was obvious to Fred as he watched the young coach weaving his way through the scattered chairs and assorted sunbathers that Tommy was staring with greedy relish at the provocatively swaying hips not of his own wife, but of Fred's wife, Grace. The germ of an idea began to form in Fred's head, and by the time the ladies were abandoning themselves to the sun's rays again and Tommy had taken his seat beside him, Fred had concocted a plan. He knew that Grace would go along with it – she had always done so in the past.

"She's quite a woman, isn't she," Furness said in an insinuating tone.

"Who?" Tommy Singleton asked innocently, embarrassed to think that his friend might have seen him ogling his wife Grace.

"I mean both of them," Fred laughed. "No need to get nervous about it, Tommy. I don't blame you for looking. I'd do the same in your place." He made a short pause, and then added, "I wish I could do more than that." His voice seemed sad and wistful.

"What do you mean?" Tommy demanded. This was the first he had heard of any problems of this kind between Fred and Grace.

"I mean just what it sounds like," Fred answered a little defensively. "At first I was a little ashamed to admit it, but our doctor says it happens to a lot of guys. He insists that it's only temporary impotence – probably psychological, and it'll cure itself in time. But it's hell to go through, let me tell you."

Tommy didn't know what to say. He couldn't think of a worse fate for a man – especially if he was married to a woman as lively and alluring as Grace. Without meaning to, he glanced once more at the supine figure of Fred's wife. She was reaching behind her back to undo the snap of her bikini top, unconsciously squirming her hips against the red towel she was lying on as she struggled with the clasp. Finally she managed to get it loose, and the restraining fabric fell away from her full mounds, giving him a brief unexpected glimpse of the white firmness of her right breast before she pressed her torso back down onto the towel. Then she wriggled her firmly rounded buttocks once or twice to get comfortable, and Tommy felt a slight tremble and jerk of his penis inside his tight swimming trunks. God, that woman couldn't help but look sexy, whatever she did!

"Yeah," Fred Furness breathed hoarsely beside him. "It's even worse for poor Grace. She's always been almost insatiable in bed, and now…" he let his voice trail away, a look of anxiety crossing his features.

"And now, what?" Tommy asked softly, wondering what else could be bothering him.

"Hell, I can't expect her to go on forever without a little action from time to time. I just hope she has the good sense to get it from somebody who won't get any ideas of splitting us up or causing some kind of trouble," Furness scowled. "We've had too many good years together. We're really a good match under normal circumstances, and I don't relish the idea of some perfect stranger screwing us up." He chewed his lower lip for a moment in a nervous gesture Tommy had seen him use when he was worried about his football team losing a game. "Oh, well, what happens, happens, and that's all there is to it," he added at length, pretending bitterness, and then he lifted his gin and tonic and drank over half of it without stopping for breath.

"Hey, take it easy on that stuff, Coach," Tommy chided him. He hated to see his long-time friend in such a state. "The season may be over, but you can't afford to break training at your age," the younger men laughed half-heartedly.

"What do you mean, at my age? You clown, I'll race you five lengths of the pool right now," he growled in a realistic tone of belligerence, slipping his feet out of the rubber sandals he was wearing and plunging into the pool after three running strides.

Tommy was surprised, but nevertheless he hit the water only a split second behind him, and they swam to the far end of the pool and kicked off from the wall together. Their wives watched with interest as their two athletic husbands raced back and forth, their faces distorted out of shape each time they heaved themselves up at the end of a lap and gasped for air to fill their lungs. Neither of them could gain an inch on the other, and they finally touched the concrete on the fifth lap at exactly the same instant, making it a tie.

"Bravo, Hercules!" Grace Furness shouted, clapping her hands, forgetting for the moment her breasts were uncovered. Then she squealed in laugher and cupped them in the tiny halter, but not before the winded swimmers had glimpsed the rosy hardened tips of her nipples.

Linda Singleton was both proud of her own husband and amazed that Fred Furness could keep up with him. Then when she saw the unmistakable look of desire pass over her husband Tommy's face as he stared at Grace's full breasts exposed briefly to his view, she was filled with an uncontrollable jealous anger, turning her face away from his smile when he looked at her. The nerve, she thought. It's bad enough that he has a one-track mind with me at home, but to stare brazenly at his friend's wife like that is too much.

Tommy noticed her look of distaste and felt mildly annoyed that it should bother her. It was perfectly natural and human for him to look at women – and he wasn't going to stop just because he was now married.

Later the four of them had dinner together in the club before they would have to return to the condominium apartments they had bought in the same complex of buildings. When the two wives excused themselves to go to the powder room, Fred Furness again brought up the subject of his problem with Grace.

"I've been thinking, Tommy," he began. "You and I have known each other for a long time now. I consider you one of my best friends. I know that I could trust you."

Tommy Singleton wondered what Fred was leading up to, but didn't say anything. It was obviously doing Fred good in his dejected state to talk.

"I think Grace really digs you," Furness went on. "And unless I'm wrong, you kind of like her too. Right?"

Tommy's heart was suddenly beating loudly in his temples. Slowly it was dawning on him what his friend was trying to say, and the thought both confused and excited the frustrated young man.

"What I'm trying to say is, why don't you do me a big favor – and Grace, and yourself – by dropping over some afternoon when I'm not around. Let whatever happens between you happen, and maybe she won't be forced to go looking around for some dumb salesman or garage attendant to satisfy her needs." The look on Fred Furness' face was sincerely pleading for understanding.

Tommy couldn't believe his ears. He was actually being offered a chance to screw his friend's wife, an idea that had crossed his mind over and over again long before he had met and recently married Linda. He had always rejected the impulse for fear of alienating his good friend, but here the older man was offering his woman freely with no strings attached as though she were a piece of property to be passed around at will.

"Uh, I'd like to help you out, Fred, but you can imagine how Linda would feel," he stalled for time. "And what about Grace? She might not like being treated like a piece of furniture that you can do what you want to with." At the same time as Tommy was offering up objections, his mind was already picturing the physical treats this more experienced woman could offer him with her body. It might be the best thing that ever happened to him, with his bride Linda holding so much of herself back. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out without doing a little running around himself or, what would be worse, losing his patience and perhaps turning his wife against him forever.

"There's no reason why Linda would ever have to know," Fred insisted as he worked to persuade Tommy to agree to at least try. "And I'll talk to Grace about it tonight when we get home. From things she said in the past, though, I think she'll like the idea." Furness waved his hand as if putting aside all the possible objections that Tommy could come up with. "After all, she has a hunger that has to be fed, and if I know women, it'll be a while before your wife Linda will be able to satisfy your appetite. Why shouldn't the two of you get together? And knowing as I do the way Grace gets so turned on she abandons herself completely to sex, I'd rather know who it is giving her a tumble in my bed."

At that moment, the two wives returned to the table, and the proposal was left that way – Fred would call Tommy from his office in the gym the next day and tell him what Grace thought of the idea.

Even though he knew it was an idea that only a short time ago would have been unthinkable for him, Tommy now found it so exciting that he could hardly keep his eyes off Grace, imagining the things he would like to do to her in bed.

Naturally, his new young wife Linda noticed everything, but it only made things worse. That night, she refused to let Tommy make love to her, saying she didn't appreciate his getting heated up by looking at another woman all evening and then taking it out on her. That settled it for Tommy Singleton.

If he was going to stick out this marriage until Linda got over some of her sexual hang-ups, he was going to have to release his tensions elsewhere. By the time he was falling into a troubled sleep beside the softly breathing warmth of Linda's body, it was all he could do to keep from masturbating to ease the unsatisfied ache in his loins. Instead, he merely rolled onto his side when he was sure Linda was sound asleep and lightly rested the full length of his rigidly erect penis in the tantalizing narrow crease between her rounded buttocks. Jesus Christ, he muttered to himself angrily when she unconsciously cringed away from the pulsing hotness of his excitedly throbbing shaft. Even in her sleep she reacts against sexual passion.

Her action of repulsion angered him even further and caused his hardness to suddenly subside as if he had been dashed with cold water. He finally dropped off to sleep feeling utterly rejected by her, dreaming of a beautiful mermaid who called to him to come to her and feed her craving, abruptly waking up in the middle of the night from a wet dream. The mermaid had been slowly lowering her soft mouth down over his pulsating, hard cock and his dammed-up semen had spurted endlessly between her sensual lips turned up in a seductive smile around his thick shaft. He got up and showered before returning to sleep, first hiding the sperm-soaked pajamas where Linda wouldn't find them.

It'll serve the frigid little bitch right if I have to fuck another woman to be satisfied, he mumbled to himself through clenched teeth as he lay on the bed as far away from her as he could get.

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning was a working school day, and Tommy Singleton awoke earlier than usual, wondering why he was feeling such a sense of anticipation and excitement. He glanced briefly at the still sleeping form of his wife Linda, clad only in a short nightie of sheer nylon that hid nothing of her physical charms from his view. She was lying flat on her back, her creamy white thighs exposed all the way to the softly enticing little triangle of blonde curls up between their firmly rounded smoothness. He could see the inviting pink folds of her pussy pouting chastely up between her slightly spread legs, and he wanted more than anything at that moment to drop his head down there and thrust his tongue deep up into her unprotected innocent cunt, but he knew that she would never permit him to enjoy himself that way – or permit herself to enjoy it, he added grimly. Hungrily he let his eyes pass on up over the filmy fabric clinging to her taut white belly to the delectable little indentation of her navel clearly visible through the sheer garment and farther up to the sweeping rise of her fully ripe breasts. Little upward thrusts were made where the tiny pink buds of her nipples pressed teasingly up against the thin nylon, and he licked his lips at the delicious sight before reluctantly turning away to get dressed.

As he finished shaving and looked at himself in the mirror, he suddenly remembered why he felt so anxious to get out of the house and off to school. He smiled at his image with a boyish grin, his brown eyes sparkling with unconcealed joy as he recalled the conversation with his fellow coach, Fred Furness, the day before. He could hardly wait to get that phone call he had been promised. Being involved for so long with the girl he had just married, it had been easy to forget for the time being that he had always been attractive to women, and now he found himself bursting with a renewed energy. He pulled on the loose velour slip-over sweater that only coaches could get by with in a public school, unable to resist admiring the way it clung to his muscular shoulders and chest. Hell I'm practically irresistible, he grinned into the mirror, and then he left the house quietly, getting into his yellow sports car with a feeling of elation he had not experienced for what seemed like years.

Avoiding the usual bull session taking place in the faculty room at the school, Tommy went directly to his tiny office behind the gymnasium and watched the telephone as if he could make it ring with his eyes. When it finally did jingle in two short bursts after the end of the second period, he was sitting ready to answer it and held it up to his ear before the bell stopped sounding.

"Hello, Fred?" he blurted into the instrument anxiously.

"Hi, is that you, Tommy?" came the soft feminine voice.

It was Grace Furness, Fred's wife! Her sweetly seductive voice seemed to flutter inside his ear, making his body ache with desire.

"Yes. Grace?" he stammered. "I-I was expecting to hear from Fred." He wondered if something had gone wrong.

"Yes, I know. But I thought it would be better if I called you myself. I think we ought to have a little talk," she breathed into the phone.

"I, uh, fine," Tommy managed to say. "When would be a good time?"

"How about this afternoon, right after school?" Grace asked. "Fred tells me you don't have a practice on for today – he does, though."

"Right. And I'm free last period too," he offered, regaining some of his composure after the shock of hearing her voice instead of the one he had expected.

"Why don't you come by as soon as you can then," Grace suggested. "We can have a drink and see how we feel. Okay?"

"Okay! Great," Tommy replied, his pulse beginning to race as he detected the promise in her voice. "Say about two-thirty or so?"

"If that's as soon as you can make it, fine with me," she teased. Then she laughed and added, "Just don't waste any time with those dikes from the women's physical education department."

"Don't worry about that," Tommy put in, feeling bolder by the minute as he heard her expressing her own anticipation and interest. "I never waste time with women who are duds."

She laughed again, louder this time. "I'm sure you don't, lover. See you later."

"Yeah, later," Tommy responded, and then they hung up.

It was all he could do to keep his mind on his work until he finished with the last group of students. When they had finally dispersed with the buzzer signaling the end of sixth period, Tommy grabbed up the small bag containing his street clothes without bothering to change from his coaching shorts. He left the office in the gym the way it was, knowing that the custodian would lock up before the day was over and ran to his car in the parking lot.

It was close to three o'clock when Tommy's wife Linda finally decided she needed to talk to somebody. She never expected her husband home before at least four or four-thirty, and she felt she really needed an outlet for her confused feelings before she had to face him again.

After thinking about it, she knew there was only one person who would be willing to listen, and perhaps would have some good advice for her.

Grace Furness.

She hated to do it, even though she liked Grace well enough to become close friends with her. But she had formed an almost instantaneous aversion to Grace's husband Fred, and she felt this would always stand in the way of any intimate contact socially with Grace. Even so, she decided, there just wasn't anybody else she could talk to, and Grace was conveniently nearby – you could see the back windows of the Furness apartment across the courtyard of the condominium.

Without any further hesitation, not even bothering to call first since they lived so close, Linda slipped on her sandals with crepe rubber soles and stepped out of the apartment.

Speaking to the other young wives she encountered on the way, Linda looked at their unconcerned smiling faces and wondered if any of them had gone through the same experiences when they were first married that she was now going through. They all seemed contented and happy, and it was hard for her to believe that they could have had any serious problems. She reluctantly admitted to herself as she waited for the elevator up to the fifth floor that it was possible her difficulties with Tommy were all her own fault.

It seemed impossible, but maybe she was just too darned prudish in her outlook on sex, she reflected. She had always thought of herself as a liberated woman who had rejected the outdated ways of her parents' generation, but who was to say that some of their outmoded thinking about sex hadn't been so deeply instilled in her from an early age that she didn't even know it was affecting her.

She sighed heavily as the door of the elevator opened onto the fifth floor corridor. It'll be difficult, she told herself as she turned left and started for the Furness' door, but I've got to try to be absolutely frank with Grace, making it very clear what it is I want to ask her about. She was trying to form the words in her mind for all the questions she had – mostly about the perverse demands Tommy had been making since they were married, when finally she found herself standing outside the thin wood door of Grace and Fred's apartment.

Her index finger was poised over the button of the doorbell, ready to ring, when suddenly she froze in place, the unexpected sounds coming to her ears through the door shocking her into immobility.

"Let me suck you first," came the voice of Grace Furness, husky with passion and desire. She and whoever she was talking to must have been just inside the foyer entrance to the apartment, her words were so clear to Linda's hearing.

There was a mumble of a man's lower voice saying something she couldn't understand, followed by the harsh metallic sound of a zipper being opened.

"Oohhh, it's so big and hard, lover," came Grace's voice again. "Can I kiss it here?"

Instead of an answer, Linda heard a low moan of pleasure unlike anything she had ever heard before. She stood like a stone statue in the hall, the overpowering sounds rushing through her mind so loud she thought she must be about to faint and fall to the floor. The moaning male voice continued for what seemed an eternity, and then Grace's voice came to her through the door again.

"Mmmmmm, you've really got a nice prick," Linda distinctly heard her say. "Come on into the bedroom. You can hear everything through these paper-thin doors."

There came the sound of retreating footsteps inside, and then there was silence, only the deafening rushing in Linda's mind going on and on as she tried to comprehend and accept what she had just overheard without meaning to eavesdrop.

Abruptly, as though a warning signal had gone off inside her head, she turned and raced down the hallway to the stairwell, not willing to wait for the elevator again. She ran until she was back in her own home, confusion running rampant through her thoughts.

She had unwittingly discovered something about the wife of her husband's friend and colleague which she would have given all the money in the world not to know. And she had been just about to ask Grace for personal advice! A wife who was obviously being unfaithful to her husband.