Robert Thirdwall - Swap Talk

By the end of the year, Helen and I had become part of a fairly solid network of erotic friendships covering most of the Middle West. As often as possible, we traveled together and enjoyed some sort of group activity wherever we went. Only occasionally did I have to go someplace where we didn't have any contacts, and when I did, Helen didn't go with me. There was one exception to that, however, when I had to visit a small company close to a well known lake resort. We had never been there before, so Helen insisted on going along just to see it.

We stayed in a very casual, but nevertheless very expensive, hotel in the resort area. And while I spent my days puzzling over management problems, Helen spent hers swimming in the indoor solarium pool. I envied her lounging all day around the steamy, carpeted solarium, particularly after I poked my head in one day and caught a glimpse of the other nymphs sitting around the edge. I had thought that Helen's bikini might be a little risquЋ for a middlewestern resort, since it wasn't wired and padded and consequently showed very clearly the opulent curves beneath it. But a look at the other girls told me my intuition had, once again, been overly conservative. There were at least a halfdozen real beauties there, and none of them were better covered than Helen.

What really surprised me, though, was coming home one evening and finding fifty dollars lying on the dresser.

"Where did this come from?" I asked.

"I earned it fucking," came the answer.

I was dumfounded. Helen walked into the sitting room from the bedroom, still in her bikini, and laughed at my shocked look. She walked up and gave me a kiss.

"I'll tell you all about it. I was sitting by the pool this afternoon chatting with the cute brunette chick. Her name is Denise. I somehow mentioned that the girls around the pool were awfully pretty, and she laughed at me and asked me if I didn't know why. I said I didn't, and she said that most of them were employed by the management to make things pretty for the visiting businessmen and that they were also employed regularly by the businessmen to make them even happier.

I was pretty amazed, because it had never occurred to me that they were prostitutes. But as Denise went on, she made it sound like a rather appealing job. Since she was paid just to sit around, she never had to accept a man she didn't like. And the hotel was so high class, the men always paid real well. I asked her if she always went to the guy's room, because I had noticed that some men brought their wives, like you did. She said that usually they did, but that in a pinch the really foggy corners of the room had been used and that once in a while the management permitted them to open the pool for night swimming with only the underwater lights on.

Then she had to go, and I sat around thinking about what she had said. That's when it occurred to me to try my hand at whoring, too. So I moved my seat over to a secluded area in a foggy comer and lay back in my chair and waited. Sure enough, pretty soon this guy named Chad came over and asked to join me. I smiled and agreed, and he pulled his chair up close alongside. Then we chatted, and he sort of casually put his hand on my stomach. And then he started moving it around real lightlyССyeah, that's rightСС" We were on the bed, and I was matching her words with action, "and up on my tits and armpits," she went on. "My nipples got nice and hard, and he pinched them through my suit. Then he dropped his hand down and moved it between my legs, first on top of my suit and then under itССohh, that's niceССand then he put his fingers up my crack. And then he whispered, 'Room 508 in ten minutes' and left.

Needless to say, I followed him, and we fuckedССOhhh… " I drove into her creamy cunt and came in seconds. "Oh, Bobby, that was nice. You do it better than Chad, so I won't make you pay me fifty dollars."

Then we proceeded to discuss Helen's exploit further, and she confessed that knowing she was going to be paid for fucking was almost as appealing as doing it in front of a crowd of people. She also said that Denise had told her that tonight there was going to be night swimming, in case she wanted to see what went on. That's what had prompted her to tell me about the fifty dollars. She wanted very much to go night swimming, but she didn't want to sneak out on me. So she was offering me her fifty dollars to pay for a girl for me if I came along.

I accepted her offer, but I felt pretty funny about it. I had never heard of anyone taking the money his wife earned by whoring and spending it for a whore. Such considerations didn't prevent me from slipping into my trunks and bathrobe after dinner, however, and padding down to the solarium. The door was locked, and of course no lights shone around it from the other side, but slight sounds could be heard.

Helen gave the coded knock that Denise had taught her, and the door swung open. A luscious babe in a red bikini was the smiling doorman, but beyond her we couldn't see a thing. We groped our way into the steamy darkness (I confess I groped the doorman's big boobs in the process) and rounded a partition into the pool area itself.

Things were lighter because of the underwater lights, although the steam still gave the place an unreal atmosphere. Two girls were paddling around in the water while three fellows watched from the edge. There seemed to be other people in the surrounding shadows, too. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a man appeared and spoke to Helen.

"Hi, Helen."

"Hi, Chad."

"I see you've got a friend already." He looked at me.

"Oh," said Helen, "We're not together. We just came in at the same time." She put her arm around Chad's waist and pressed her chest and stomach against him.

Chad brightened. "Well, in that case, maybe you and I could go off and do a littleuhswimming together."

"Sure," answered Helen in a mock husky voice. "You dive in and I'll follow your lead." Chad laughed, and the two of them disappeared into the shadows. One sentence came back to me as they moved off. "Ooooh, Chad, your hand's wet."

This left me to fend for myself, and I moved over to the pool. Two of the guys were in the pool with the chicks now. Two bikini tops were floating on the water, and through the distortion of the brightly lit water I could see the rosy tips of the girls' tits receiving the proper attention. I sat on the edge and dangled my feet, watching them frolic. The girls pantsed one of the guys, and he swam on his back to make his rod stick up like a periscope. One of the girls followed him. The other girl clinched with the other guy, and they made their way out of the pool, heading for darker parts of the room.

Then a newcomer appeared at the deep end. She was of medium build with shoulderlength black hair. She reminded me of Maria Cordoba, but she was bigger. And her suit was something special. It consisted of three pieces of white cloth attached to brass rings above her hips. One piece of cloth descended between her legs like a loincloth, and the other two crossed, covering her breasts and coming down in back to the brass rings again. What made the outfit a knockout was that the angle formed by the two rings and her crotch was sharper than the natural angle of her mound of Venus. That is to say, her suit rose so sharply to her hips that the two upper comers of her precious triangle revealed themselves in tight black ringlets.

She climbed the steps to the diving board, and walked to the end. She posed on the end like a statue. Her body was beautiful. Then she put her arms forward, shrugged her shoulders in a funny way that made her suit straps slide down on them, and sprang into space, spreading her arms wide and thus pulling the top parts of her suit free of her breasts. It was a beautiful swan dive made perfect by the pointed swell of her full bare breasts.