Rex Taylor - Overeager wife

Christina, wearing her hat and a warm smile, strode across the floor to Maggie. Stripped, she was a vision of loveliness. Her tits were moist with sweat, the sexy green makeup badly smeared, and Maggie ached to jam her fingers into the thick mass of reddish-brown hair between Christina's thighs. Instead she dropped her head and licked at a stray smear of nipple makeup. It did have a peppermint taste! Her tongue flicked out for another slurp.

"That's delicious," she said, raising her head. "Does it come in other flavors?"

"Why don't you come over to my place sometime and find out," Christina invited. "I'll bet I have it in your favorite natural flavor."

"I'll bet you do," Maggie purred kittenishly. Her hands went out to clutch Christina's tits. The nipples were wine red, now that their green coating had been licked away, and they were hot to Maggie's touch. She rubbed them and tweaked them, feeling the little points come up hard and ready, and she bent to suck their sweetness. As her mouth contacted Christina's nipples her fingers scooted down the red-haired girl's tummy, digging into the clump of fur where a soft, wet cunt lay hidden. Maggie could feel recently spilled jism lurking inside Christina's cunt, and she knew that she would die if she didn't get Belinda's friend down for some hot sucking and licking right now.

"Why don't we go somewhere and get acquainted?" Christina suggested. Maggie looked up. A woman across the room was looking directly at them, it seemed, but no one else seemed to be giving them the slightest attention. Her eyes drifted around the room and she saw Ted, talking very earnestly to Marion. The older woman and Maggie's husband were bath naked and Marion's hand was cuddling Ted's cock gently as they spoke.

Her fingers fell away and the cock stood up of its own accord. Marion smiled, fell to her knees, and began to suck it voraciously, not caring if anyone was watching.

Maggie stood up. Go to it, swinger, she radioed to Ted with her thought waves. "Okay," she said to Christina. "How about the exercise room dawn the hall? We shouldn't be in anyone's way there."

"Sounds fine with me," Christina said, and the two naked women strode off arm-in-arm down the hallway.

Maggie turned off the television. She didn't know why she watched soap operas. They were so silly, so unrealistic. So was her own life, flow many women in America this Monday morning could claim they had spent a weekend like hers?

The party had ended, as all parties must, and she and her friends had returned to David and Belinda's. Andrew came with them, although Ted had made it perfectly clear that he did not intend to sample the vaunted delights of male homosexuality. Indeed, Ted seemed vaguely aloof during Saturday night and Sunday morning and afternoon. He was willing to watch, and occasionally his cock would spring up and he would fuck Belinda or Maggie or Christina with some semblance of enjoyment, but it wasn't the same.

Maggie wasn't sure what that meant. After all, wasn't he the one who had originally been so hot to give swinging a try? And now he acted as if he could care less. Maybe he was the one unready for the wrenching experience. Maggie knew as well as she knew her own name that she had found her true paradise in life and she did not intend to give it up – ever.

She tried to remember the party. As far as she was aware, Ted had only made it with the older woman, Marion. Maybe that was what was wrong with him. Maybe the experience of fucking and sucking with a woman old enough to be his mother had left him feeling uneasy and troubled. Maggie didn't know. When she tried to ask him about it he clammed up. Men! Sometimes they were more trouble than they were worth!

But no! She loved Ted, loved him very much. He was her husband, he had been her first and, for a long time, her only lover, and she would help him solve whatever was bothering him. She owed it as part of her wifely duties.

Maggie went into the kitchen. Her teapot was whistling and it was time for lunch – coffee and cottage cheese. She poured the coffee, stirring the instant mixture, ten added milk and sugar substitute. She had just opened the refrigerator door to get her cottage cheese when the phone rang.

"May I speak to Maggie Spencer, please?" said a weary voice.

"This is she," Maggie replied. "Who's this?"

"Do you know how many Spencers are in the phone book?" her male caller responded. "You must be the tenth number I've tried. This is Greg Nixon – alias 'Tricky Dick'. Maybe you remember me."

"Yes, I remember you," Maggie laughed. "What can I do for you?"

"I've got it up again," he purred, "and I thought we might take up where we left off."

Maggie blushed, in spite of the weekend she had just spent. "I don't think so," she protested weakly. "Maybe I'll see you at another party sometime."

"And leave me to go around with this thing sticking out and up? You'll have to do better than tat."

Maggie cocked her head to one side, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder. Her hands smoothed down the front of her body. What would it hurt? she wondered. Wasn't this what swinging was all about? "I think I can fit you in," she said, "maybe between Days of Our Lives and Another World."

Maggie lay on the bed watching as Greg undressed. It was the fourth day running he'd come over to visit her during the afternoon and, she thought regretfully, if this kept up, she might never find out whether Mike Powers confronted his wife Toni who, thinking him dead, had married another man. Did she really care what happened to Mike Powers and his stupid nympho wife?

Greg slipped down his pants and turned to present her with a profile that favored his hard cock. Such a big one, Maggie thought. Such a big, throbbing hard-on to be buried inside her cunt and spilling out its cum deep within her womb. "Hurry up," she called. "I don't think I can wait for you to fold up your pants."

He came to her, rolling onto the bed beside her. She threw a leg over his body and scooted against him, raising her loins so he could impale her with his ready cock. It slid in as easily as though her cunt were full of melted butter and she sighed at its deep, probing penetration.

"Nice," she said, "but how long can you keep this up?"

He kissed her in reply, and nibbled at her lower lip. His hands cupped her small tits and he bent to nibble them as well. "You have the most beautiful tits I've ever seen," he whispered between nipple-mouthing.

"No, I don't," she insisted. "They're too small to be pretty."

"Anything more than a mouthful is wasted tissue," he countered, and his mouth opened to suck one tit in, just to underscore his words.

Maggie petted his head as he sucked her tits. He was such a dynamic stud, she thought. Nearly as good as Ted was, before… She didn't want to think about it. Ted hadn't fucked her once since their return from David and Belinda's house on Sunday evening. She'd called Belinda at home and found that he wasn't doing any more screwing around at the office with his gorgeous, swinging blonde volunteer either, and that worried Maggie. Every time she touched his cock he turned away from her.

What was it? Whose fault was it? Had he been turned off by watching her, in the after-party party, playing with Belinda and Christina and David and Andrew, in combinations of unending variety? He'd been turned on by the thought of his wife making it with another girl but had the sight been too much for him?

Maggie couldn't guess. She only knew that, if not for Greg and his daily visits, she'd be lying here alone, stuffing her cunt with carrots and cucumbers and bananas and every other cock shaped object in the refrigerator – not to mention her fingers and whatever cock substitutes she could dig up around the house. She'd gotten used to being fucked often and well, and she didn't see how she could live without it.