unknoun: Swap Night

She jerked her head around to look at him in a wide eyed consternation.

"I don't think it's funny."

"Please believe me when I tell you, I know. How well I know! It's amazing. What a rotten coincidence!"

"Coincidence?"

"Yes… we're in the same boat."

"I don't follow you."

"Alyce is just like David."

"I see." She dropped her gaze again, afraid that she had gone too far in revealing to him an intimate fact of her married life to a comparative stranger.

Then Eddie reached out, on impulse, his huge paw settling on her bare knee, gently. The smooth, tanned flesh was warm to his hand, inviting him and tantalizing him with its warm promise.

She looked up at him, startled, as his hand massaged the inner part of her knee and began to move upward an inch or so along the soft, smooth flesh of the inside of her thigh.

"Mr. Frampton! I hope you don't think that because I told you about David that I'd… I'd…" she gasped, at a loss for words, her legs clamping together, but the big hand was trapped between her thighs still trying to move upward toward her cunt.

"You're a lovely, desirable woman, Sally, and I want you. I want to make love to you," he rasped out, his breath starting to come in low spurts now.

"Good god! We're both married. How could you even think…?"

"Listen," Eddie cut in, "you just said that David wasn't giving you enough in the sack…"

"Well, yes, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to start hopping in bed with every…" The words came tumbling out of her, as she struggled to find reasons to stop his advances toward her.

"We could be discreet. No one would ever know," he said.

"You make it sound like going to the supermarket," she said. "I couldn't get involved in something like that. Besides, there are other people to think about."

Overwhelmingly, the burden of his sex was bearing down on him. He felt his prick straining at the confines of his shorts. It was standing up, painfully, throbbingly, alert. Christ! How this woman had aroused him.

He wanted her, but he knew that it was impossible. It was broad daylight and time for his one o'clock group. He was supposed to be instructing now. Of course, he rationalized, one of the assistant pros could get the people out on the courts and get the video equipment set up so that would give him an extra couple of minutes.

Silently, they rode along for a few moments, then Eddie, again, reached out his hand to her thigh. She shifted in the bucket seat, and almost imperceptibly her legs spread for his hand as it gained the inside of her thigh and moved upward along the warm flesh to the heat of her crotch.

Quickly, he made his decision. She was ready!

"You're dying for it, aren't you?" he said, making his question a statement of fact.

"No. You're wrong. I can't do it. It wouldn't be right."

Her thighs closed on his hand, and he felt a slight thrust of her hips; a gentle uncontrolled, grinding motion that made her words a lie, her body speaking the truth of her need.

"Where can we go? Obviously, we can't go to your place or my place."

"Mmmmmmmmm," she gasped, her hips straining forward even more.

He frowned, time was of the essence. His hand was at the juncture of her thighs. He used his fingers, probing until he found the crease below the pubic mound and insinuated his middle finger. He pushed against her and found the bud of her womanhood under the thin wisp of nylon.

"No… please… I can't stand it… nooooooo," she gasped with pleasure.

Her words jolted him. Now, he was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole thing. He began to wonder if he might have gotten himself in too deeply, already, as he thought about the bizarre situation. They were both aroused sexually and there seemed to be no immediate answer to where they could go and fuck.

"Let's go to a motel," he suggested.

"It would take too long to get there," she murmured, her eyes glazed and passion-filled.

"All right, I know what we'll do," he said. "There's an equipment hut behind the pro shop…"

"Isn't that kind of risky…"

"You're right. We'll park behind it and just stay in the car. Well manage.

Where there's a will there's a way."

Pulling his fingers from her cunt, he drove into the drive of the tree- shaded club and threaded his way around the member's parking lot around the rear of the pro shop to the employee's lot. No one else seemed to be around and he parked the car over to the corner of the small lot, quickly turning off the ignition and reaching for her.

Eagerly, readily, Sally came into his arms, lifting her lips to him willingly, and moving as close to him as the bucket seats of the expensive Porsche would allow.

Their lips met, and her tongue came probing into his mouth, wetly, seeking him.

He was pleasantly surprised by her wanton search of his oral cavity, her lingual member hotly slithering into all its crevices.

He sensed the urgency in the woman and thrust his own tongue forward to joust, momentarily with hers, before giving her just the tip of it. She instantly, voraciously, sucked on his tongue, pulling it deeply into her warm, hungry mouth.

At the same time his hands were occupied with her body. He found her breasts, to his delight, they were completely unfettered. She wore no bra under her tennis dress. The swell of her thigh was firm and long tapering and he revelled in the wonderful womanliness of her. His strong hands explored all her curves, massaging her, roughly, molding and kneading her, and her breath came fast into his mouth.

Frustratedly, he broke the kiss. "We're not going to be able to do anything in this car. It's just too small."

Shyly, she smiled up at him, her face framed by her long, dark-brown hair, not knowing how to say the thing she wanted to say, yet knowing that it must be stated, somehow, if they were to finish what they had unknowingly started.

"We could take turns," she said, her voice scarcely louder than a murmur, "take turns doing it to each other."

It was at that moment that she saw it. Her dark eyes drank in the throbbing bulge at his crotch revealing his desire for her. She reached out to him, her tiny hand trembling slightly as she rested it, momentarily on his bare knee, then dragged her fingers with a slithering motion up the inside of his thigh, feather-touching his hardened prick. As she withdrew her hand his cock jerked up hard, and he could feel the moistness at the tip of it. She smiled up into his eyes, laying her hand gently on his huge bicep, she squeezed, meaningfully and finished.

"Do you know what I mean?"

"I get the picture," he said, "are you sure?"

"Well, it's the only thing we can do here in this little space," she said blushing thinking she had already been too bold.

"You don't have to do it, Sally," he started to say surprised that she would initiate such a thing. His own wife Alyce would never in a million years entertain such an idea.

"I want to. We can do it right now."

"We could go out tonight and find somewhere," he suggested hopefully.

She reflected for a moment. "I don't know. David will be home. But maybe we could come back here."

"Super." he said. "The courts close at ten, I've got a key. "I'll meet you back here."

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the lounge of the tennis club would be the perfect place. He wondered that he had not thought of it before this.

Again, he took her in his muscular tanned arms and kissed her with passionate abandon. She stopped him momentarily, her dark eyes smoky and lust glazed, as she lifted her hips, raised her tennis dress high and reaching down, slid her panties down over her swelling thighs, exposing the olive-toned nakedness of her buttocks to him; then she slid down into the seat moving her pelvis up and forward.