John Friday: Willing wife swappers

The young golden-haired woman had learned that whatever felt good on her clit also felt good on the head of a man's big prick, and she began the swift, demanding diagonal strokes that George had used on her only moments before.

Moving day was not quite the nightmare they expected it to be. First there was the great pleasure both couples felt getting settled in their new homes, and with four sets of hands working, the mountain of cartons, crates and furniture went into place faster than they had dared hope.

Don and Kathy rented a trailer. What they had in their small apartment only took two trips.

"Aren't you excited?" Kathy gushed when they pulled up in front of the house with the second load.

"About moving this shit?" Don asked. "No! About what we're going to do later… you're fucking well right I'm excited."

"What are you going to do to me our first night in our new home?"

Don gave her a teasing grin and replied, "Do to you? Honey, I may not even get around to you!"

"You sonuvabitch!" she snarled in pretended rage. "You sure don't think you can fuck with Ellen the whole damn night!"

"AS a matter of fact, I wasn't thinking of Ellen at all. Have you noticed that couple across the street?"

"Where?" Kathy's head turned in a swirl of sun streaked gold.

"There in the green house… the woman in tight shorts and that skimpy little halter top."

"Fuck the woman," Kathy said. "Look at him! He's got muscles on top of muscles… and I'll bet his prick is as long and hard as the handle of that rake!"

Don chuckled at her look of leering desire, relieved that at last the two of them could talk honestly and openly without stirring ugly waves of jealousy. "Come on, you horny little cunt – we've got a lot of unpacking to do before we meet the neighbors."

Bonnie Wallace looked up from the border of freshly turned earth where she was busy setting out shrubs in front of the new house she and her husband Ed both felt so proud of. She watched green eyes yearning for the lean, obviously powerful young man going into the house across the street with a heavy load of stereo gear.

Ed Wallace was running, a rented rototiller, churning hard-packed soil where their lawn was to be. Waves of flashing blonde hair and a shapely little ass caught his eye. He leaned down, killed the engine and said, "Hey, Bonnie… where'd that sexy little blonde come from?"

"From her mother's cunt, I suppose." Bonnie felt a wave of disappointment. It figured that a handsome young stud would have a sexy wife.

"No," Ed said with disgust. Lately he couldn't fathom Bonnie's sullen moods. "I mean half an hour ago I saw another couple moving into that house – about forty, I'd guess, twice the age of those two. The woman had long black hair… and a fabulous pair of tits."

"You would have to mention her tits," Bonnie said as she went on packing soil around the roots of a newly planted juniper. At thirty, Bonnie still had the lean, limber body of a gymnast… an almost boyish figure with small but sharply coned, jutting little tits.

"I don't see how anybody in their twenties could afford a house like that," Bonnie said. "The young couple must be helping the others move."

That added to her gloom. The casual-but-so-sexy young guy she'd watched go up the walk probably wouldn't be living across the street.

Ed watched the last rays of sun flash in long blonde hair, then the door closed behind the girl's swaying ass. "I really dig long hair!" he said, "Especially on a blonde with a nice ass. It just sets everything off right, if you know what I men."

"Gosh, yeah!" Bonnie said in a drone. Her brown hair was cropped in short and curled around her face. "If I thought it would make your miserable prick get hard, I'd bleach my hair. Fuck, I'd even bleach my cunt fuzz… or shave my pussy bald if that would turn you on!"

"Knock it off!" Ed said sharply. "We fuck as much as any couple our age."

"Oooooh, shit," she said under her breath. Bonnie Wallace wasn't sure what had gone wrong between them. She thought it might be the pressure of Ed's work. He'd been pushing hard to get ahead – so hard that often he had little time or energy to give it to her. And at the same time, Bonnie had felt her own appetite for sex increasing. She couldn't read a romantic novel or see a good-looking man on TV without feeling her pussy squirm with obscene desire.

The young guy lugging stereo gear into the house across the street had done it to her now. Fuck his pretty blonde wife with her waves of golden hair! I want his cock! Bonnie said in a silent voice choked with desire. I'm so fucking horny, I could wring it dry!

Ed muttered a sullen curse and started the tiller motor again. He knew well enough what was going on in his bitch-wife's head. Her fucking cunt was itching again. Just a few years back he'd have caught the scent of musky desire and dragged her into the house for a rousing good fuck. But she didn't excite him like that any more. His wife… his whole life had become so God damned dull!

He worked his ass off to get ahead, so Bonnie could have the things she wanted – like the new house, the dishwasher and the fucking built-in microwave oven. Two promotions in the last two years – two nice raises – and what the shit did he get for the effort at home? A whining bitch.

"Stuff the fucking trowel in your complaining cunt!" Ed growled in a voice not loud enough for her to hear over the tiller's roaring clank. "I'd make time for that sweet-assed little girl with the golden hair!"

Bonnie usually came to bed with her hair in curlers – enough damn metal to make a barbed wire fence. And she sprayed her hair with some foul smelling shit, she wore a ratty nightgown as thick and ugly as a horse blanket… no wonder the stupid bitch didn't turn him on!

With a vicious stab of the long metal trowel, Bonnie made a hole in the soft damp earth and stuck in the last of the two dozen shrubs they'd bought to decorate the front of the new house. She packed soil firmly around the roots, all the while thinking of how her tight pussy could grip a thick cock. Funny, she thought, but almost everything I do these days reminds me in some way of sex.

She stood up mid flexed her long, elegantly tapered legs. She'd been a dancer all through school, never good enough to be a professional as she'd once hoped – but it gave her a limber poise and grace that men usually found exciting. Most men…

"I think I'll go across the street and meet the new people," Bonnie shouted over the thrashing sounds of the tiller.

"Go," Ed shouted back. "I've got to finish this, or we'll have to pay another day's rent on the damn tiller."

"Money," Bonnie grumbled under her breath. If that tightwad bastard loved my cunt as much as he loves a fucking dollar bill, I wouldn't be hunting around for another cock.

She was honest with herself about that…

"Knock, knock," Bonnie said. The front door of the house across the street stood slightly ajar. It swung open under the gentle rapping of her knuckles.

"Oh, hi!" Don said. He was down on his knees plugging patch cords into the stereo set.

"I'm Bonnie, from across the street," she said.

"I noticed you when we drove up," Don said still intent on his work. "Your husband was running that little tractor thing…"

"Yes." Shit, he would have to mention Ed.

"There!" Don made the last connection and straightened up, turning to gaze at the tall, lithe woman standing near the door. "What's your favorite kind of music? I want to check the system out."

"Well," Bonnie began reluctantly, "you probably don't have what I like best."

"I'll bet we do," Don said. "What is it?" George and Ellen had a large and varied record collection. That and what he and Kathy had gave them a wide selection.