Jeff Collins - Swinging sister

Toni met her in the alcove. "Oh, hello, darling!" the blonde said. "I'm glad you're here. The party got going a little early!"

And when Sherry followed Toni into the living room, it looked like the party had started very early. The room was filled with the smell of smoke – both the straight kind and the more acrid kind. The liquor had obviously been flowing like water, and no one she saw seemed sober.

A cheer went up from all the men when Sherry entered the room and she was spotted. She would soon discover that every beautiful woman who entered was greeted this way.

"Just mill around, honey, and make yourself at home," Toni said, as someone shoved a drink in her hand and pulled her away to talk about something that couldn't wait.

Sherry shrugged and headed for the bar. There was no bartender, so she mixed herself a strong drink. Then she found a relatively quiet corner and looked the crowd over. They were the kind of people she had expected – loud, happy, and bursting with life and exuberance. Most of the snatches of conversation she overheard were about either flying or fucking, and most of the people were drunk. Yet it seemed to her that these people were enjoying themselves more at this one party than she and her friends had enjoyed themselves at all their parties.

Most of the girls were stewardesses, and even the ones who weren't tried to look like stews on the make… the wide smiles, the "What can I get for you?" eyes. And all of them wantonly displayed and used their bodies. The dancing was nothing less than vertical intercourse.

There wasn't much time for Sherry to see any more. Harry Partlin found her in her corner and whisked her out, onto the dance floor. In no time, she found herself doing what all the other girls were doing. And she liked it.

"You want to fuck me now or wait 'til later?" Harry laughed in her ear.

Sherry returned the laugh. "Dance with me some more and rub that big meat against me, and I'll tell you!"

They never got that far. During the second dance, a stranger cut in. Harry left her, with a pat on her ass, and whispered, "Live a little, honey, and have a good time!"

The new man dancing with Sherry was about forty, handsome and very self-assured.

He danced exactly as Harry had.

"I'm Paul Clemons, your host."

"I know who you are, Sherry," he laughed, running his tongue along her earlobe. "I've heard all about you. And I could hardly wait 'til you arrived."

With all the gorgeous girls in the room, Sherry knew his line was bullshit. But, nevertheless, she loved it, and ran her pussy ever harder over his stiffening cock as they danced.

By the end of the dance, Sherry was hot and he was hard. And they both knew it. Again, he leaned close to her ear.

"Want to smoke?"

Sherry nodded, and Paul pulled her across the room to a door that opened into a bedroom. She balked at first, until, in the dimmer light, she saw that there were at least two other couples in the room.

She moved inside, and Paul closed the door behind them. From a box on a table at the head of the bed, he drew out a thin cigarette made of brownish paper and yellowish tobacco. The others were variously seated or sprawled around the room, some of them smoking, others simply staring at the ceiling.

It was then that Sherry saw that all the men were totally nude, and the women were down to their panties. There was a sharp, sweet smell to the air in the room that Sherry recognized as pot.

They passed the joint back and forth until it was almost gone. By that time, Sherry was hotter than ever and she could feel her head swimming. More of her reticence disappeared as she watched one girl on the floor lean over and take a man's cock into her mouth. It really turned Sherry on. She wasn't totally high yet, but she knew that when the time came, she would give herself to Paul Clemons with virtually no resistance.

Suddenly, Paul seemed like a very old friend, someone she had known for years.

Then she was aware that the music from the other room had become louder, and the driving rhythm seemed to be reverberating inside the hollows of her body, inside the already seeping flesh of her hot pussy.

Her breathing quickened and her pulse kept time with the music. Now she was aware of the pleasure of pot and was greedy for more. Paul brought her another stick, which they shared and she flew even higher. Now the music was coming from inside her skull and it was nicer music than before. Much better.

Standing up, leaning against the wall of the bedroom, became too much of a drag. She relaxed and allowed herself to slide, down to the floor. Paul came down beside her, his swarthy face split by the whiteness of his teeth.

The sliding down had raised Sherry's skirt to the tops of her thighs, but it was too much trouble to pull down. Besides, why pull it down? Who was here to see her naked thighs? Only friends were here. Only warm wonderful people whom she loved.

The music was louder. She couldn't tell if it was the music inside her head or the music from the other room. All she knew was that it was the most magnificent music she'd ever heard… tom-toms. Every beat found echo inside her body. At first it was a generalized reaction. But as the music continued, she began to feel individual parts of her body responding.

The flesh of her tits seemed to swell and pulse with every beat, and her body broke out in a sweat. And when the music increased in volume and tempo, it was as if invisible fingers were prodding the secret curves of her cunt and ass, making the muscles twitch and jerk spasmodically, making the flesh swell against the bonds of the clothing.

Her skin seemed to be burning and her lips were dry. Suddenly, there was a hand against her skin, above the inside of the knee, adding more heat to her already seething flesh. She opened her eyes, located the hand, dark against her whiteness, hairs bristling from the backs of the fingers. She followed that hand to the arms to which it was attached, then up that arm to the shoulder, across the shoulder to the neck, and up the neck to the face. It was Paul, and he was smiling so nicely at her. She returned the smile and moved her legs to give him freer access to her pussy and inner thighs.

The calluses of his hand made her flesh tingle and her nerve ends screamed with delight as he brushed up and down against the silky flesh. Then his smoothly shaven cheek was pressed into the hollow of her throat and his lips were tracing lines of fire down to the swells of her tits.

One of his hands moved from her thighs to her tits. The fingers insinuated themselves beneath the material of her bra and lightly caressed the pebbly flesh surrounding her nipples.

Everything he did seemed right. Each touch of his hands and lips not only brought pleasure, but seemed like the only thing in the world to do under the circumstances. She had a body and he had hands and, obviously, they belonged together.

"I want to take your clothes off," he growled into her ear, wet from the tip of his tongue. "I want to undress you, and thee I want to fuck you."

"Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Sherry chanted, spreading her long legs even wider.

She moaned aloud as she felt the fabric of her dress loosen around her chest. The next sensation was even greater as she felt the elastic of her bra drop away, and her huge tits burst into the coal air.

Then a hand completely covered the swollen and aching mound of her tit.

Paul rolled against her and Sherry, even in her drugged haze, realized that somehow he had gotten all his clothes off. He was totally naked, and the rigid hardness of his cock was pressed against her thigh.

"I want your body, Sherry," he hissed. "I want your cunt."

"Take it," she groaned. "Take my pussy and fuck it!"

Now the groaning and writhing from the other couples in the room came to Sherry's ears. She turned her head around to see the girl who had been sucking the man's cock beside them now on her back. Her legs were thrown high and wide in the air, with her ass held by the man's hands. His face was between her thighs, greedily slurping and licking her gyrating pussy.