Rex Taylor

Overeager wife

CHAPTER ONE

"Shields Avenue," Ted muttered. Only one of his eyes was on the road. "Do you see it?"

"No, I don't," Maggie replied, just a bit too sharply as another unexpected tingle raced through her cunt. She didn't care if he ever found the street for which he searched. She didn't care at all. This whole thing was insane.

"There it is," Ted said triumphantly. He made a quick left and the car scooted into the mouth of Shields Avenue.

Maggie sighed. She would have rubbed her lips with her hand but right now all ten of her fingers were laced together in a tight knot. Her feet shifted uncomfortably on the floor of the car. She wished she were somewhere else.

This was a very nice section of town, she thought. Most of the houses were old, elegant in a turn-of-the-century style Maggie found captivating. Or would have, if she'd been in the proper frame of mind.

What was wrong with Ted? she asked herself. Or was she at fault? They'd been married two and a half years – no children yet, for they were still unsettled. So far as Maggie was concerned they enjoyed a full and rich sex life that was everything it should have been. Eight months ago they'd come to Dawson, where Ted had found a good job. He was director of the local Community Services program, euphemism for a broad range of welfare activities. His job paid well and they lived in a nice new house on the southern edge of town, and until a few weeks ago there had been no problem at all.

And then Mrs. Belinda Rodgers had come down to volunteer her services at the community center. She was a young woman, Maggie's age or a bit less, of a prominent local family. Her husband was an attorney in Dawson – he'd run for county attorney in the last election only to be defeated when Dawson County went Democratic for the first time in forty years – and Maggie had seen their pictures in the newspaper quite a few times.

There was more to it than that. Belinda Rodgers wasn't just a dedicated young Illinois matron. Maggie hadn't met her, but Ted had spoken of little else since she had started to work. It was "Mrs. Rodgers" this and "Mrs. Rodgers" that, and the next day it had been "Belinda", until Maggie wondered if her young husband had any other topics of conversation.

And for the last two weeks Ted had been talking not only about Belinda but about something he called "swinging". It took Maggie a while to understand what he meant and, when she did, she was horrified. Apparently Belinda and her husband David were devotees of the practice of mate swapping with other couples. And just as apparently Belinda had been giving Ted a sales pitch at the office, trying to convince him that he and his wife should give it a try.

"It's disgusting," Maggie had told Ted. "It's horrible even to think about. How could you consider it?"

He gave her his answers as fluidly as though they were a well-memorized school recitation. It was neither disgusting nor horrible. Belinda and her husband were attractive, well-adjusted people. They loved one another but they realized that the impulses of love and sex were not completely identical. If anything, their experiences with swinging ha strengthened what they felt for one another. Why shouldn't he and Maggie try it as well? It would be broadening for their minds and their bodies.

"After all," he pointed out, "sometimes I look at other woman and I desire them. I don't doubt you've felt the same about other men, if you'd only be truthful with yourself. Someone new and exciting, whose eyes seem to leap at you across a room and suddenly, in your mind, the two of you are already rolling in bed. Hasn't that happened?"

Maggie shook her head frantically. Never, she told herself. Never. Knowing that to a small degree it was true. Sometimes she fantasized. All women did. When Maggie was younger she had often masturbated, pretending that some idealized man was fucking her – some dreamy boy from school, or perhaps an actor, a singer. She could still remember her trembling girlish orgasms in the arms of a ghost-image Paul Newman or Steve McQueen or Tom Jones. Her head shook angrily then, trying to clear away the thoughts which troubled her, and she would not say another word.

But other days had brought other words, and each day Ted seemed to have some new insight passed his way by Belinda. One day he brought home an issue of a men's magazine from the newsstand downtown. The last fifteen pages or so, he pointed out, were devoted to ads from couples and singles all over the country who were into swinging. Maggie pursed her mouth as she looked at the ads, three columns to a page and plenty of photos and she noticed that the Midwest was liberally represented.

"All right!" she cried, throwing down the magazine. "If it means that much to you, then let me meet them. I'm not promising anything but I'll talk to your precious Belinda and her precious husband."

And now they were almost there. Ted was cruising slowly down Shields Avenue, his eyes scanning both sides of the street for some sign that they'd found the right house. Maggie saw him smile and he turned into a driveway, parking behind a small foreign car which she assumed belonged to one of the Rodgers'. He rushed around to open Maggie's door and walked her toward the house. He held her hand tight in his, as if he feared she might run away from him before he could ring the doorbell. Maggie's feet seemed to be made of lead. She walked with dragging steps, blushes stinging her face, and she wondered for the millionth time today why she'd consented even to a get-acquainted session with Ted's newfound swinging friends. Once more she wished she were somewhere else.

Maggie sat on the parlor sofa with her husband, a splendidly mixed Vodka Collins in her hand. She was still trying to hate Belinda and David but she couldn't keep up the pretense much longer. It was impossible not to like them – at least a little bit.

Belinda was a sparkling girl, long honey hair framing her finely chiseled oval of a face. Her blue eyes were full of life and her hands moved in graceful animation as she talked. She was simply but expensively dressed in a flattering sweater/slacks combination, and from the interesting jiggle of her plump round tits it was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. Maggie's own brassiere began to feel uncomfortably tight and confining as she watched the free swing of Belinda's tits.

David, on the other hand, carried himself with the professional assurance of the professional man he was. His face was serious as well as pleasing to look upon, but when he smiled he seemed to be a boy once again, grinning at some prank. He was much slimmer than Ted and not so obviously muscled, a type Maggie had not cared for. Until now.

She sat quietly for the most part, replying once in a while when a question came her way, but Ted and the Rodgers' did nearly all the talking. He and Belinda were discussing something that had happened at the office a few days ago, laughing about it, sharing the memory. Maggie felt excluded and she could manage only a weak, forced smile when she saw that David's eyes were on her. He looked at her frankly, appraisingly, or so it seemed, and she blushed once again.

But why shouldn't he stare at her that way? Obviously he knew that Maggie and Ted had come over to discuss the possibility of swinging with him and Belinda, even though the subject had not yet been broached. She wished she could look behind the even facade of his eyes and see what he thought of her.

There was no reason for David not to like what he was looking at. Maggie was an attractive woman, twenty-three yeas old and well built. Her hair was dark and curly, shoulder-length, while the dress she wore flattered her trim figure and showed off her legs, longer than Belinda's and supporting a rather taller frame. Maggie's nose was her only drawback, or so she felt. It was too sharp for beauty, and every time she looked at Belinda she envied the other wife the cute button nature had given her.

Maggie sighed, the action causing her tits to rise even higher in the bodice of her dress, and she saw David smile, showing some of his even, capped teeth. He must be dynamite in a courtroom, she taught, especially if there are women on the jury.

She realized that weakness was seeping into her system and she tried to fight it. Hastily Maggie tried to imagine David and Belinda at their swapping sessions, each of them fucking on a bed with a stranger. Her mind stripped the clothes away from their bodies, strove to conjure up partners for them. Did they fuck on the same bed? she wondered, or did they have the common decency to take their temporary lovers to separate bedrooms. It was depraved and disgusting, she reminded her conscience. To know that your mate was enjoying sex with another person while you did the same. How could they live with themselves? What did they say to one another afterward? "How was your girl, David?"

"She was a spectacular fuck, Belinda. How about yours?"

"Gad, darling, you should have seen the way he could swing his cock!"

Maggie stared at their faces, searching desperately for the signs of immorality, which she knew must be there. And still David reminded her of nothing more than a straight-A college senior, while Belinda might be the granddaughter of Mary.

Something stirred her to full consciousness, breaking into her thoughts. Ted was rising from the sofa.

"Come upstairs," Belinda was saying, "and I'll show you David's study. I designed it myself and I'm very proud of it."

"Okay, honey?" Ted asked his wife, and Maggie nodded. She watched as her husband followed Belinda's twitching ass into the hallway and up the staircase. When she looked back David was on his feet, walking toward her. A gulp caught in Maggie's throat.

"Can I freshen your drink?" he was asking. "I'm not as good a bartender as Belinda…" but Maggie shook her head, raising the three quarters-full glass. He smiled and went to the bar. She watched over her shoulder as he mixed himself a new drink. He didn't use much gin, she thought. That was a good sign. Too many people drank entirely too much and it was nice to see someone else who could use alcohol in a restrained fashion. Instead of returning to his chair he sat down on the floor beside Maggie's perch on the sofa, still smiling in his infectious way.

"If you're that nervous about it," he said, "maybe you should forget the idea altogether. Some people aren't cut out for swinging."

Maggie took a hasty drink, smearing her lips with vodka Collins. She dabbed tern with the back of a finger, heart fluttering in her chest. "It-it – wasn't my id-idea," she stammered, unable to believe that the burden had been lifted from her soul so easily.

David nodded. He sipped at his drink thoughtfully for a few moments, then put it down. "Well," he said, rising slowly to his feet, "why don't we go upstairs and find our partners and break the bad news to them. I'm afraid Belinda is going to be disappointed, and so am I, but it can't be helped. Neither of us believes in forcing other people to do what they don't want."

Maggie should have been more grateful than she was, and she knew it. Once again her feet seemed to be made of lead and, for a moment, all she really understood was that David had regretted not being able to fuck her. It was the nearest to a pass she'd received since marrying, and she felt uneasy as well as flattered to know that he had found her attractive.

Side by side they climbed the stain. David broke the silence. "They should be in my study," and he pointed to the room at the right of the stair head. He hung back and let Maggie precede him. She turned, her lips staffing to form her husband's name as she peered through the open door of David's study. The word never left her lips.

They presented her with a perfect profile. Ted stood before the big desk, wearing only his undershirt. His shorts lay in a pile around his ankles. Belinda, still fully clothed, knelt before him. One of her hands stroked Ted's bare leg up and down, the other cupping his oversized nuts in a firm grip. His cock thrust out, thick and long, but Maggie couldn't see his full hard-on, for most of it was buried inside Belinda's sucking mouth.

Her long blonde hair swishing and swaying with energetic motion, David's wife gobbled avidly at the stiff cock belonging to Maggie's husband. Ted's eyes were closed and he was petting Belinda's head, encouraging her with his hands and his words.

"Yes," he sighed, "use your tongue on me. God, it feels good!"

Maggie's vision blurred and there was a roaring in her ears. In spite of that roaring she could hear Ted's obscene encouragement, not to mention the greedy slurping sounds that emanated from Belinda's sucking mouth. Sickened to the pit of her being, Maggie turned to David. His face was calm and smiling. She looked back through the open doorway, wondering if she had seen only what she feared, not what was real.

No – it was true! Her husband was reveling in a blow job from another woman! Maggie made a fist and hit her thigh with it. She didn't know what to do, what to say.

David put a shushing finger over his lips and tugged at her wrist. She went with him down the hallway. He led her into a darkened room and turned on the light.

"This is our guest room," he said. "Why don't you sit dawn on the bed and try to pull yourself together?"

Maggie dully nodded her gratitude as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her entire body seemed numb, from her brain to her toes. She hadn't counted on this at all. No, nothing like this! She'd agreed to come over to Abe Rodgers house tonight, meet David and Belinda, and talk about the subject that seemed to totally occupy her husband's mind lately – but she hadn't given Ted her permission to start the ball rolling.

Her eyes lifted and she saw David standing beside her. How could he be so cool when his wife, his lovely young wife, was in a room down the hall sucking the cock of a man he'd never met before tonight? Was rage seething just beneath his placid exterior? Was he internally contemplating the prospect of hunting up a gun and killing Ted where he stood?

David dropped to his knees beside her and she felt him take her hand in his. "You really aren't cut out for it, are you?" he asked gently. "Did it bother you that much?"

"Of course it did," Maggie replied. She was too distraught to cry, but then, she'd never been an easy weeper. Instead, she tended to go numb, as she was right now. "Of course," she repeated.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

He shook his head. "Why should it?"

"She's your wife! And she's…" Maggie searched her mind for the clinical phrase, not wishing to be vulgar in the presence of a virtual stranger.

"Sucking Ted's cock?" David suggested. "Is that what you wanted to say? And of course she's my wife. We love each other very much. And what you just saw in the study won't have the slightest effect on our feelings."

"Then it doesn't mean anything to you?" Maggie challenged. "It's just meaningless?"

"Of course it isn't! Love and sex have their own meanings. Sometimes they come together and it's wonderful, but they don't have a horse and cart relationship. Belinda isn't going to lose her heart to your husband just because she has sex with him. Tell me. If you hadn't seen them, if you hadn't known about it, would you be this upset?"

Maggie shook her head.

"All right," David declared. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Belinda fucked Ted for the first time about two weeks ago. I think it was the second day she was on volunteer duty at Community Services. You didn't know that, did you? You didn't even guess it? Ted didn't turn into a brutal monster of infidelity? You're shaking, Maggie, and there's no reason for it. None at all. Calm down."

His hand was secure as it gripped hers and some of David's security seemed to filter into Maggie's body. Feeling returned to her limbs, slowly at first, and the chill that had swept up her spine thawed. Her head still felt giddy and no words would rescue her. She tried to cast her mind back, to recall how Ted had spoken and acted over the last couple of weeks. He'd talked about Belinda Rodgers all the time, it seemed, but she had harbored no suspicion that her husband was being unfaithful. She remembered the sex they had shared during the same time span. It had been their normal, healthy, energetic lovemaking. Ted had shown no reluctance, no lack of interest. If anything, he had been slightly more demanding the last week or two. Once he had swept her off her feet, settled her ass onto the kitchen table, and fucked her royally before supper. That hadn't happened since just after their honeymoon.

Slowly Maggie became aware that David was gently stroking the inside of her right thigh, his fingers dipping past the hem of her short skirt, tickling her through the mesh of her pantyhose. "Stop that!" she whispered, but she made no move to stop him.

His fingers drifted higher, moving across the highly sensitive areas far up her leg. Maggie squirmed on the bed, not because she really resented his playful caress but because he was touching what seemed to be raw, throbbing nerve endings in her thigh. Her head shook jerkily and once again she asked him to stop what he was doing, but the words were choked and insincere. And besides, his fingertips had just skittered across her crotch, moving like four tiny men over the tingling gash of her cunt.

David's eyes were focused upon her face and she found herself trapped in the hypnotic power of his gaze. "You're moist already," he smiled, daring her to deny it. "Stand up, Maggie." She rose like a puppet. He came up too, and his fingers locked inside the ring tab of her zipper, pulling it down in one long, slow gesture.

Still Maggie looked at him, captured by his eyes. She had no will to resist, even knowing that Ted was down the hall and that her scream of protest would bring him running. David eased the zipper all the way open and then his hands pulled at her dress. It slid from her shoulders and fell with a rustle to the floor. His hands went around her body and undid the clasp of her bra. The cups sagged forward as soon as the lock was released and he removed the garment from her trembling tits.

Her mouth was very dry, she realized, and David seemed to know that too. One of his hands cupped a tit, squeezing gently at the firm little mound, and he leaned his face in close. His lips brushed hers teasingly and she felt saliva begin to flow across her tongue. David's mouth drifted back across Maggie's, and this time her lips were slightly parted, sucking onto his with the ferocity of a hungry leech. Her arm flew up to wrap around his neck and she held her lips to his for what seemed an eternity. Her pulse skyrocketed and she knew that her heart must be pounding like a jackhammer behind the round cushion of her tit. Good God! She could feel her nipples stiffening, could even feel the increased dripping from her cunt as she twined her body around his. What was happening to her? She didn't want this! How could she be allowing him to make love to her?

Still kissing her, David began to press her earnestly, and Maggie found herself being eased onto the edge of the bed once more. She kicked her feet to clear away the fallen dress as his lips smacked off hers. David went to his knees once more and his fingers entered the elastic waistband of her pantyhose, tugging the sheer stockings down, down… Maggie lifted her ass as he slid them across her asscheeks, and before she could blink her eyes they'd been carefully removed and placed on the floor not far away.

"Panties and pantyhose?" he asked slyly, his arm coming to rest upon the well-filled crotch of her bikinis. "You're a cautious lady."

His finger worked through the leg opening and she felt it touch her wet, aching cunt. Maggie brought her thighs together, trapping his finger inside her panties, forcing it to stroke and tease her pussy, but when he touched her knees with his other hand her legs flew apart and her ass lifted of its own volition, eager to help him remove the last obstacle.

Naked now, Maggie sat once more on the edge of the bed. Her thighs were parted far enough for him to have a clear, stunning view of the pink gash that nestled among the hairs of her cunt. Her cunt hair was dark, the fur long and curling, but she really didn't have that much hair down there. Certainly not enough to obscure the view of her cuntal slit.

Maggie searched her mind for the will to resist, but she didn't find it. She tried to conjure up an image of Ted. What would he think if he saw her sitting here like this, stripped naked before a man she'd never seen before tonight? She had to smile at that. For all she knew Ted was still down the hall, his cock in the luscious mouth of that man's wife. He wouldn't care. Hadn't he been trying to talk her into this for a couple of weeks? Hadn't he wanted her to be right here at this precise moment, as naked as this, ready to fuck this stranger?

Her family – what would they think, say, do? What would her baby sister think of Maggie right now? Somehow it didn't seem to matter that much. PJ, along with Maggie's parents, was living in California, halfway across the continent, and only a miracle could send the three of them walking through the bedroom door now. Besides, she was an adult. She didn't have to live in accordance with her parents' wishes any more. David's fingers touched the raw slice of her cunt and she beard him speak.

"What do you like?" he asked softly. "What turns you on, Maggie?"

"I like to be kissed and felt," she whispered in a rushing voice. "But should we do this? Really? Should we?"

"Whenever you want me to stop, I'll stop," he promised, and he eased into the space between her legs.

His fingers came to rest on the plump mound of her cunt and she sighed as she felt him spread it open, further than her posture had already split her. Looking down, Maggie saw his head come in, tongue already darting from between his lips, and she closed her eyes.

The first swiping lick of his tongue glided across her opened cunt from bottom to top. His fingers pried inside her cuntal folds and crevices, laying bare the tiny, throbbing bud of her clitoris, and he began to bathe it with his tongue.

Maggie reached down to clutch at the sides of his head as she clamped her thighs tight upon his ribs. She felt her clitty telescoping out into its little hard-on and, as it erected, his lips were upon it, rolling and pinching. Musky juices dribbled from her cunt and coated his mouth and chin.

David worked his thumb into her moist cuntal hole and gave her a gentle finger-fucking. He was too gentle! When Ted got his head between her legs he ate her out till she thought an earthquake had struck, and orgasm after orgasm rippled through her guts. She wanted that now! She wanted to be sucked and licked and stabbed by all his fingers until she exploded in a screaming climax! "More," she whispered, "give me more!"

David acted as if he hadn't heard her. His lips continued their gentle stimulation of her clitoris and cuntlips and his thumb kept up its soft, easy corkscrewing in and out of her pussy. Rocking his head from side to side David licked and sucked at her cunt, oblivious to the prodding of her knees in his ribs. With Ted she'd have came half a dozen times by now. What was wrong with David? Didn't he know how to eat a girl?

Maggie's head shook and she could feel her hair tickling her neck. She chewed her lips and one hand slid off David's head to come up and seize a pulsating it. Cupping her tit, she let her fingers pinch at the nipple until it reached its fullest erection, almost an inch long, and it ached as though she were a cow badly in need of milking.

Meanwhile, back at her cunt, David was eating her as if he had all the time in the world. He'd left off the clitty nuzzling for the moment, however, and his tongue was playing in and out of her open cuntmouth, slurping up a fresh taste of pussy juice each time he penetrated. She could feel his tongue reaming her cunt like a smaller, infinitely more flexible version of a cock, but why must he be so gentle and easy with ha? Maggie was tasting the fruits of sin and finding them sour. She enjoyed it more when she used her fingers on herself. It was no wonder, she thought, that Belinda Rodgers was so eager to swap husbands, if this was the best her own could do.

Scarcely responding she let him slide her back on the bed, so that she we lying now, her knees bent and feet dangling down. David moved with her, his tongue still sampling the sweetness of her cunt.

Suddenly his tongue went stiff, the way Ted's cock sometimes did when he came upon Maggie unexpectedly naked, and he poked her cunt savagely, stabbing it in and out with quick, sharp strokes. Maggie jumped at the first punching thrust and she moaned aloud, for his fingers had seemingly turned to steel pincers, two of them snapping at her vividly pink cunt, the others squeezing her hair-fringed outer cuntlips. It was as if David's engine had been kicked into roaring life.

He used his mouth and his teeth on every square inch of her exposed cunt, and Maggie felt the preliminary buildup that announced the onset of her climax. This was how she liked it! Frenzied cunt-lapping, with plenty of fingering and sucking! She grabbed her tits and squeezed them like wet sponges, watching the nipples sticking out between her slim fingers. Her eyes closed and she reveled in what he was doing to her. That it was unconventional no longer mattered. What Belinda had been doing to Ted wasn't quite conventional either, and Maggie felt that she was entitled to this, even if she hadn't expected it to happen.

And then David's mouth drifted off her cunt, his lips kissing their way across her perineum. Maggie's ass jerked in surprise but she had never been in command of this situation and she was not in command now. David raised first one of her legs, then the other, letting them come down to rest on his shoulders, and he raised himself slightly, pulling Maggie's ass from the bed. She was jelly in his hands.

He was almost kneeling on the bed, propping her lower body up at a sharp angle, his knees pressed against her back. David's face was crammed into Maggie's crack and he used his hands to pull apart the cheeks of her ass.

His tongue shot out once more and she felt its soft wet tip knocking impulsively at the puckered, light ring of her manhole.

Magic squealed, for she wan sensitive there, so much so that she'd never been able to gratify her husband in his desire to fuck her. Every lime he had brushed the greased point of his cock across her jumpy. Maggie had shivered and trembled and wailed, and Ted, for fear of hurting her, had always shifted his attentions to the eager mouth of her juicy cunt.

"What are you doing?" she asked, although she had a good idea. David's tongue was pushing provocatively at her manhole as if he meant to thrust it right up her shit chute. Her fingers trembled so vigorously Maggie was massaging her cunt without know it, and the ripe mounds responded with throbs and tremors of their own. She could feel her heart pounding rapidly inside her body, pumping and beating as if it were trying to hammer its way into the open.

Again and again David licked his way across her manhole and up and down the cleavage of her asscheeks, tickling her in places she had never dreamed were ticklish. Ted had never done that – used his mouth on her asshole. He'd fingered it, and of course he'd tried to fuck it, but some squeamishness had prevented him from applying his lips to her manhole. Until tonight, when David had begun to do precisely that, Maggie had never even noticed the omission.

As the first bubbling orgasm rippled through her cunt, however, she knew she'd found a virginal erogenous zone and a marvelous way of stimulating it. Ted would have to learn to touch her there, just as David was doing. After what she'd seen of him and it was the least her husband could do to make amends.

David palmed her cunt, feeling the quivers that shot through it, soaking up the juices that flowed forth. Maggie took delight in the sure grip of his hand and she felt a new shudder of ecstasy ripple up the path of her cuntal canal. He eased her ass onto the bed once more, and still clutching her cunt, he crawled up to kiss her mouth.

She gurgled as she sampled the lingering fragrances of her cunt juice on his lips and her mouth opened, drawing his tongue inside. She did it without thinking and, only when his tongue was thrust fully between her lips, did she wonder if it might not taste ever so slightly of shit. Apparently not. All she could detect was the aura of cunt that coated his mouth, and she licked and kissed at it hungrily, half delirious from her own sweet secretions.

His fingers toyed with her creaming cunt, squeezing it, rubbing it, and she felt two of them slip into the hot hole, slithering up her cuntal passage with no trouble whatsoever. Maggie squirmed as he impaled her with his fingers and she twisted her body to accentuate the sensation.