Robert Thirdwall - Swap Talk

The degree to which I was absorbed into the homey atmosphere is testified to by the fact that no light flashed in my mind when Harry Stark suggested that we all watch some home movies. Ordinarily, the words "home movies" would have been a signal for me of hot things to come; but this time it only signaled a family travelogue of European capitals. The reel that the Starks asked for, however, was the one of Sally's first formal dance the year before. I thought she blushed angelically at the suggestion.

So we all moved about finding equipment or seats, and in a few minutes the lights went out with me sitting on an overstuffed sofa next to the hostess, Susan. 98765432and there in color was what I assumed was the upstairs of the Riley house. The scene traveled into Sally's room and found her with her back to us facing a mirror and holding before her a soft blue gown made of layers of diaphanous material. It was a cute shot, and I berated myself for noticing that her adolescent back was lovely and also bare, except for white panties. I still felt guilty, rather than suspicious, when the camera recorded her lowering her dress a bit before cutting, an act that revealed for a split second darling young breasts with soft, light pink tips.

Next we were looking at her being picked up by her date, who looked older than she by quite a bit. The gown was strapless and of an Empire cut. With long gloves, it suited her light, ethereal look perfectly. I wondered whether she was encased beneath it in some sort of wire bra, but a cut to a shot from above dispelled that wonder. The gown was obviously held up by a tight fit around the torso, for the dЋcolletЋ was quite loose, giving us another glimpse of her tantalizing young breasts.

At long last the thought occurred to me that perhaps I was not among a quiet family group. Was it possible that the entire family was promiscuous? I looked about me for evidence, but I couldn't be certain. I was at a bad angle for looking unobtrusively at the sofa with Harry Stark and the kids, but it looked like Tom, sitting on the floor beside the projector, might just possibly have his arm on the side away from me between the legs of Eve, who was on a chair beside him.

I realized that a wrong conclusion could be disastrous, so I held my peace through a series of shots of a dance in what I took to be a hotel ballroom. Among the guests were Susan and Tom, but the camera kept track of Sally chatting and dancing with a number of men. Then came a cut back to the empty living room. We were waiting for Sally to come home. A car door slammed, and then another. Then came the key in the lock. Sally appeared, looking quite gay, and turned to say goodnight to her date. Inaudible words were said, and then he took her in his arms. They kissed, and from the back what we saw were his hands stroking her, following her figure, and eventually squeezing her slender butt.

Then she broke from his embrace and turned into the room facing the camera. He followed, closing the door with his foot, and put his arms around her from behind. Sally's face was flushed, and she threw her head back as her date bowed his head to kiss her bare neck and shoulders. His kisses were long and lavish, and his hands made equally loving explorations of the young girl's body. Rising from her stomach, they framed her slender torso and then settled on her lovely, slight bosom, pressing and massaging the young rising tits beneath their covering of cloudy blue cloth. The prolongation of this action before he finally reached for the neckline of her dress was tantalizing. But at last he made that crucial move. Finding the neckline to be held up by nothing but loose elastic, he pulled the blue bodice down and bared the virgin tits beneath it. The Empire line was realized as it was always meant to be. The soft blue of the dress rose in long vertical folds to just below Sally's tits, and from there up was only the smooth creamy expanse of her fledgling breasts and long neck, accented by the budding pink points of her tits, now standing up hard under the working of her date's agile fingers.

I was still afraid of being precipitate, but the sight of the beautiful daughter was too much, and I ventured timidly to rest my hand on the knee of her equally beautiful mother sitting beside me. Her reaction was to cover my hand with her own in an intimate but at the same time restraining manner.

On the screen, Sally was now ensconced on one of the big sofas, and her boyfriend was kneeling beside it, sucking and nibbling at her delicious tits while exploring beneath her gown with one hand. The viewer could only guess what he was about from the movements of the cloth and Sally's expression, but the rapture on her face and the fact that the most vigorous movements appeared to be in the warm pocket where her legs met her body made the guessing easy. I ached to see her crack and the fingers working inside it. The frustration made me think once again of the woman beside me, and to my surprise I found that while I was absorbed in watching one man's hand intruding into one crotch, my own had crept, without too much trouble, quite a way beneath her dress toward another one. Susan's hand was no longer covering mine, and in a second I felt the familiar erotic bulge of pantycovered cunt. Her legs opened slightly, and I started to stroke between them.

Back on the screen Sally had at last changed her position. Half slouching on the couch to bring her butt to the edge of it, she had her long thin legs draped over the shoulders of her kneeling date. His head was buried between them paying the attentions of love to her cunt. Then came a very sudden cut, and we were watching the humping back of her date pounding his cock into sweet Sally. I was sorry to have missed the final seduction, but the angle for this final act was superb, and the camera zoomed in on the juncture where his oiled piston was ramming into her sparsely haired hole. I was inside Susan's pants and fingering her hole as I watched her daughter being screwed.

The young couple on the screen had barely come to their mutual climax when sounds were heard outside, and it was apparent that Sally's parents were coming home. In a comic frenzy the boy pulled on his trousers while Sally rearranged her gown. Her filmy panties were kicked hurriedly under the sofa, and by the time the front door opened, they both looked exceedingly proper, sitting and talking together. After that, the film cut, and once again we were upstairs. Sally was standing in pajamas in the hallway. Her mother came up to her in an elegant negligee, kissed her goodnight, and the two of them retired down the hallway in different directions. Then the screen split. On one half, Tom was sitting on the bed with his shorts on. Susan was in front of him looking down at him as he lovingly roamed his hands around beneath her negligee, transparent now because of backlighting.

On the other half of the screen, Sally was standing before her mirror examining her reflection. She unbuttoned her pajama tops and squeezed her breasts. Then she rubbed her nipples until they stood up hard. Tom now had his head beneath Susan's negligee and between her legs. Sally undid the button at the side of her pajama bottoms and let them fall to the floor. The fine, light, golden fleece on her mound betrayed the rosy pink of the soft young cuntlips beneath it. She was truly a beautiful girl. She watched herself in the mirror, running her fingers through her cunthair. Then she opened her legs and ran her fingers deeper between her legs, gradually parting and penetrating the rosy lips. On the other half of the screen in the nowdarkened master bedroom, Tom was mounted on Susan and socking it into her, while in the welllighted boudoir their daughter was beginning to frig herself for real. She was sitting now on her dressing chair with her legs thrown over the arms, exposing the sweet pink gash of her cunt to the mirror at which the camera was aimed. She slid the middle finger of her right hand in and out of her hole, spreading the soft lips with her other fingers. Then she began to concentrate more on the sensitive bud just above her slit, rubbing it with increasing speed. Her mouth was open and her eyes half closed. With her other hand she spanned the distance between her stiff nipples and rubbed them as well. The sound track was from the parents' room and went with the shadows of their humping forms, but the pants and grunts and little cries superimposed on Sally's solitary masturbation seemed like sounds coming from her torrid, young girl's imagination. I heard her parents build toward their climax, but the effect was of being inside Sally's mind imagining some passionate, romantic fuck while she went at her titties and clit harder and harder. Her butt half lifted out of the chair as she came closer to the end; and then, just as her mother uttered a loud cry in response to her father's prick spurting inside her, Sally's back stiffened and a grimace of orgasm came over her face.