Dana Swanson - Blackmailed Into Swapping

She was only vaguely aware of Miriam leaving her as her sex-saturated body trembled and began returning to normal once again. She opened her eyes to see Miriam standing over her with a couple of drinks.

"You poor darling," Miriam repeated softly' helping Mavis sit up and cradling her in one arm. "Drink the gin and tonic, honey."

Mavis sipped gratefully, all but unmindful of her naked lower extremes.

Right then she didn't care if Miriam gazed at her hairy tummy and snatch. She didn't care that Miriam had seen her playing with herselfhad helped her masturbate. She had had relief that she had needed so urgently. She couldn't sort out her emotions; tell whether the two self-induced orgasms were comparable to those she got from a huge cock working in and out of her pussy, or not.

"Thank you, Miriam," Mavis murmured, sipping the strong drink.

"You aren't getting all you crave from Phil, are you?" Miriam suggested slyly. "You two aren't making it so good in the sex department, are you? How long has it been since he gave you a good lovin'?"

"More than a week," Mavis cried softly, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks and trickling off her chin into the deep cleavage between her firm, feverish titties.

She liked the feel of Miriam's fingers under her arm, squeezing the ridge of her breast. "I feel so awful!" Mavis finally blurted, clenching her thighs over her naked, hairy crotch. The thick, blandish mat was soaking wet from her passion and perspiration.

"Sometimes, husbands and wives need a change of partners to make them more appreciative of their own marriages."

In spite of the liquor, Mavis' senses sharpened. What was Miriam hinting at? A thought was building in the back of her mind, emerging solidly from something she had merely sensed in the past. Phil's friends were swingers! Mate-swappers! Miriam, subtly, was proposing that she and Phil engage in the growing pastime of jumping from bed to bed! Oh, no! Were the Quentins involved? Somehow, she knew they were!

And how many other couples in the neighborhood? People that she and Phil didn't even cultivate socially.

"What are you saying, Miriam?" Mavis queried, making her tone absent and disinterested.

"I am sure that I could rekindle Phil's interest in you-the guys talk-and Hank has said several times he is concerned about your physical and mental well-being. Besides that, honey, he has all the equipment and know-how to please a girl. And we women know better than men how important it is to our lives to get rid of those deep passion-pressures so we can be relaxed and serene."

Mavis gulped half of her drink and trembled as if a sudden chill was numbing her body. She looked down at her nudity, panties and tennis shorts around her ankles. "Oh, no, Miriam!"

"Sometimes, it is a big step toward saving marriages-it keeps them from becoming stagnated and dull," Miriam said confidently.

Mavis felt in a state of shock. She didn't even bother to haul up her clothes to cover her nudity while Miriam went to mix two more drinks.

Could she do it with Henry Carr? Her thinking had never dwelled sharply on what it would be like to undress and crawl into bed with one of hers and Phil's neighbors and fuck. And she had never considered that Phil would lay another woman. She just couldn't imagine her husband pouring his meat into another woman's snatch.

Miriam's free hand was on her naked thigh, like a hot iron on her quivering flesh. It was like a daytime nightmare! Miriam was very serious and intent about swapping husbands. And the way she talked, Mavis was certain Henry was all for it! How would Phil react?

She sat very still as Miriam rose, kissed her cool forehead. "Think it over, sweet. Talk it over with Phil when he gets home. I feel certain you will see it my way-for the best of all of us. If you should lean toward the negative, I'll try another method of persuasion-and I am sure it will work!"

Mavis sensed an ominous note in Miriam's tone.

Mavis, purposely, had left it dark all through the house, had sequestered herself in the master bedroom that she shared with Philwhen he was home.

After Miriam had stolen from the house, Mavis had taken a long, hot bath, soaking for nearly an hour. She had powdered and perfumed her body, yet a taint seemed to linger in her flesh. Completely sober now, she knew what it was. The memory of her masturbation and having Miriam walk in and assist her into a second orgasm left a dark thought crashing through her mind. Shame and embarrassment gnawed at her.

Another thing, as she considered it as objectively as possible, was Miriam's parting comment about being able to persuade her to agree to mate-swapping. She had been right at the time…There was something callous and threatening in her voice!

Surely, just having seen her playing with her pussy for needed relief wasn't enough to give Miriam a lever to compel her to consent to sleep around with other men! What the hell! A lot of women whose husbands weren't available masturbated. And not just with their fingers, either!

She had read the books. And she had seen some of the tools that were available-some of the girls in college had them-dildoes-and used them regularly, nightly!

Mavis wished that Phil would call, and she didn't. What would she say to him? Could she talk about Miriam's open proposal that they swap husbands? Over the telephone? It might be easier than having Phil in the same room with her. On the other hand, if he were present, she could study his expression and compare it with his comments.

The thought of having Henry Carr or Willie Quentin riding in her sex saddle and banging her cunt with their cocks should have nurtured total revulsion in her mind-but there was an aura of excitement mingled with questioning apprehension about it!

"Oh, damn!" Mavis swore softly, deeply tormented. How could she tell Phil, she wondered miserably, sitting down before the vanity mirror, wearing nothing but panties. As she slowly brushed her long, blonde hair, tears fell from her blue eyes onto her gorgeous boobies. Would Phil understand? Would he be furious? Maybe, he knew about their friends already!

Maybe her husband had already sampled the love wares of Miriam and Connie Quentin! And she was just being set up for a complete Mardi Gras of mate-switching! The thought was slightly repulsive to her.

But she and Phil hadn't been so hot in bed; their lives hadn't been exactly a bowl of passionate porridge lately! But she hadn't realized all of the signs were there for other people to read so easily.

Mavis waggled her taut, trim fanny around on the dressing bench to ease the twitchy-itch in her rich crotch. Phil hadn't given her a full ration of peter for more than a week. And her appetite for man-meat was getting to the point where she needed a lot of it and one as big as a horse!

Even though the experience had been distasteful she forced herself to reflect on it. Miriam, with sandy hair and large hazel eyes, after helping her masturbate, had looked right at her and brought it right out that she knew she and Phil weren't "making it so good."

And they weren't making it!-not in the bedroom, on the sofa in the living room, in the shower standing up, in the tub lying down, in the back seat of their shiny Buick or in the patio or on the back lawn after dark. Mavis started crying harder. She needed her husband to make love to her-not other men in the neighborhood. Oh, how she gloried in having his big bone buried in her swat! And she needed him so much she felt she could just make sausage out of his pecker. For a moment, she had the aching sensation she could use any he-meat-young or old!

Her sense of shame deepened. How could she contemplate surrendering her body-her pussy to another man's cock, her breasts and lips to another man's mouth? The brief episode of her life, before she was married and had taken men's lustful bodies between her thighs, sex stumps in her cavern, was blotted from her mind. Her brief tenure as a prostitute didn't count now. She didn't remember she had taken their thumping cocks deep in her pussy almost as eagerly as she had taken their money.