Frank Markser - Teaching swapping

Thinking he was talking about the inability to make love to his wife, she nodded her head and blushed, not being accustomed to discussing such matters with anyone except her own husband.

"Good," Fred went on. "Then I don't have to break the bad news myself. What are we going to do about it?" he demanded in a voice that was suddenly gruff and vindictive.

"I-I don't understand," she stammered. She couldn't imagine why her neighbor thought she herself should do anything except perhaps offer some advice.

"Don't understand? I mean how do we even the score with those two! If they think they can do this to us and get away with it, they're crazy!" he practically shouted at her.

The full implication of his words struck her like a sledgehammer. She felt her whole body tense. She hadn't had the slightest idea that this was what he wanted to talk about, and she braced herself, afraid she just might go to pieces. It couldn't possibly be true! Not her own husband with Grace! The stunned young bride sat speechless before her husband's friend of so many years, her eyes wide open in disbelief.

Fred Furness watched her shocked reaction with inward glee. He knew she was completely surprised by his words, and he could see on her face her frantic attempts to hide her feelings. Slowly, he pretended that it was just dawning on him that she did not know what had been going on.

"My God!" he breathed. "I thought Tommy had already told you about it. Here, let me get you a drink." He hurriedly mixed a strong vodka and soda and handed it to her with an air of commiseration.

"I suggest you slug a little of this down. It might make it easier for you," he told her.

Linda continued sitting stiffly for what seemed a long time, not yet able to trust her hands to hold the glass. Finally, she took a deep breath and accepted it, hoping it would wash away the choking feeling she felt in her throat. "All right," she whispered in a soft voice. "Thank you."

She sipped slowly at the burning liquid, fighting to control the tears which threatened to flood up into her eyes, still nursing a dim hope in the back of her mind that it was all a mistake, that Fred Furness was jumping to conclusions completely unfounded in fact.

"You'd better drink all of it. This is a pretty rough thing to take, so you'd better sit back. I don't want you falling off the chair when you hear this," he said, opening a drawer under the coffee table. She watched uncertainly as he pulled out the transistor tape recorder he had brought to her apartment, put it on the table and started to sit down on the couch opposite her. Suddenly there was a noise in the hallway, and he tilted his head and listened intently as the door to another apartment opened and closed.

"You can hear everything in this place," he complained. "I'd rather the neighbors didn't know what's on the tape. Come on into the other room and I'll close the door. And bring your drink," he ordered, not giving her a chance to object before he led the way.

Reluctantly, Linda managed to get up from where she sat. Her knees felt weak and trembled slightly as she followed him toward the back of the apartment. When she saw it was the bedroom he was taking her to, she hesitated in the doorway before finally deciding to enter. Then she crossed past the foot of the big double bed and sat in the chintz armchair by the window.

"I'm sorry to be the one to break the news to you," Fred said in a convincing voice. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have blurted it out like that. But what's done is done," he apologized.

Without any further waiting, he leaned forward over the tape recorder he had placed on the bedside table and switched it on. Linda held her outward calm now by sheer force of will, but involuntarily she sucked in her breath when the first sounds came to her ears. At first there was only the slight rustle of clothes being hurriedly removed, coupled with the almost undetectable noises of heavy breathing.

"I've left out the first part," he explained. "This is what I'm certain you'll be most interested in."

There was near silence for a moment, and then she could hear a woman's voice coming through.

"Have you had many women? Other than your wife, I mean."

"That's my wife Grace," Furness whispered, watching the expression on Linda's face intently.

"Enough." It was the familiar voice of Linda's husband Tommy coming over the speaker; even the distortion of the telephone could not keep her from recognizing him. Her face turned almost white. There was a pause and then Grace's voice continued and was answered by Tommy's.

"Is Linda good in bed?"

"She's too inexperienced."

Linda gasped out loud and her face flushed. Furness reached forward and switched the recorder off. Smiling secretly to himself at her husband's remark about her sexual capability, he was thinking it might be enough to set her off.

In spite of the suggestive nature of the conversation she was hearing on the tape, Linda felt compelled to make a defensive comment. "T-that proves they were together. But it still doesn't mean they were doing anything wrong."

"Better take another big slug of vodka, Linda. You're going to need it," was Furness' answer.

She needed no coaxing this time. She took over half the remaining liquid in one quick swallow, coughing slightly from the burning effect in her throat. Furness switched the recorder on again. She could hear the sounds of heavy breathing, movement on a bed, and then Grace Furness again.

"You want to fuck me again, don't you?"

"Yes, God, yes I want to!" Tommy's voice answered, almost breathless with excitement.

"Ohhh, nooo!" Linda wailed in disbelief. Worse than hearing the lewd, obscene words on the tape was hearing that word "again". So Tommy had been going around with other women! At least with one other woman – Grace Furness, his best friend's wife.

There was a slight pause in the voices, but the breathing became heavier and she could hear a more intense movement on the bed.

"How?"

"I want to fuck you deeper and harder than you've ever been fucked before."

Tommy's voice came through with a guttural passion she had never heard him use in their own love-making. She sat thunderstruck, her face flushing a bright red from the humiliation of listening to her own husband making love to another man's wife with that man sitting right in front of her.

"Oh, God, fuck me now before I die!"

There was another long delay while unmistakable sounds came to Linda – sounds of clothes hurriedly ripped from a man's body. The shrill sound of a zipper being undone came through loud and clear.

And then the springs of the bed gave a loud squeak, followed by the voices again.

"Ohhhhhhhh! Put it in, darling. Hurry and put it in me!"

Fred Furness maintained his outward appearance of indignation as he heard his wife moaning in the excitement of abandoned intercourse with Linda Singleton's husband, but an inward sadistic satisfaction coursed through him as he watched the horrified helpless expressions crossing the young bride's face. He felt his cock jerk slightly in his pants as he saw her knees fall apart, unnoticed in her state of shock. A small white band of nylon panties was plainly visible under her mini-skirt as she sat immobile across from him. God, he wanted to grab her now and throw it to her on the bed while they listened to the tape of her husband screwing his wife Grace. But he knew women well enough by now to realize he had to wait until she had recovered from the shock, until anger had set in. There was nothing a wronged woman wouldn't do for revenge, no matter how moralistic she might be under normal circumstances. He could bide his time for a while and give her temper the opportunity to build up.

"Ohhhhhhh! God, it feels good! Hurt me! Put your finger in my ass!" Fred's wife droned on.