Grant Roberts: The Reluctant Swappers

Myra lowered her hand and began to lightly stroke her belly with her fingertips, teasing the feathery softness of her pubic mound, then trailing lower down between her legs so that she was rubbing in a slow, even tempo the warm moistness of her cuntal mouth. She teased her erect little clitoris, knowing that Dick became even more aroused from watching her. She knew that he really enjoyed watching her play with herself, and she was so hot for his hard pulsating cock now that she was pulling out all stops to get him to stop talking.

Dick opened his mouth to continue and then swallowed hard at the sight of his wife boldly finger-fucking herself, thrusting her outstretched middle finger in and out of her wetly glistening vagina with deft strokes. As she did so, she pushed her gleaming white buttocks down farther on the bed, coming nearer to him… and this time he didn't pull away! Her hand seized his wildly throbbing cock again and began to stroke it; then, before he was able to fend her off, she rose up and pressed her nakedly ripe body against his, forcing him back into a prone position across the width of the satin bedspread.

"Damn it, Myra, I'm trying to tell you about-" he began, but then he stopped as his wife began to trail her softly moist lips along the side of his neck, into the hollow of his throat, and down his hairy chest.

She nuzzled the rigid buds of his nipples, rolling her tongue back and forth across one, and then let her mouth roam down across the girth of his well-muscled belly. He groaned at the stimulations her warmly wet lips were sending through his body and thrust his hips down hard against the bed. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his eagerly beating cock now, over his testicles, reached under his naked body to probe briefly at the tightly puckered ring of his anus, and then retraced their path back to his rigidly quivering penis.

"The plan…" Dick began weakly.

"Oh, come on, baby! I know what the plan is," Myra whispered to him as she continued her expert caressing of his now fully aroused penile shaft. "Ron Fleming comes out here to look at my paintings, only we don't look at my paintings, and then you get to Sharon Fleming while we're… uhh… preoccupied with discussion of art. Right?" Her full moistened lips brushed maddeningly against the lust-swollen head of his cock as if punctuating her statement.

"Yeah," Dick breathed heavily, hardly able to keep himself from ramming his massively pulsating shaft into Myra's wickedly beckoning mouth. "But don't you want to know how I'm going to get to Sharon Fleming?"

"That's your problem, dear. I'm sure you'll think of something." And with that, Myra put an end to all conversation for the time being, as she closed her wetly ovaled lips around the turgid length of her husband's quivering cock, forcing an intense sigh of pleasure from his lips, and causing his eyes to roll behind his half closed lids. With a sudden rush, Dick's thoughts left the plans he had been busy making all evening and centered now only on the desire to empty his sperm-filled, wildly throbbing balls into the soft warm cavern of his wife's eagerly sucking mouth.

"Weren't the Greens nice?" Sharon said again, as she and Ron walked into the bedroom of their small, but tastefully furnished home. "I was certainly glad to meet them."

"Saved the night, that's for sure," Ron agreed. He sat down on the bed and removed his shoes, rubbing his feet. "If it hadn't been for them, I would have climbed the walls. There's simply no reason to put up with people you don't like, and I always feel like an absolute fool when I do anyway." Ron chided himself. "Why the hell do we go to these things? I never seem to learn." Ron felt the alcohol he had drunk that night rise in him along with his exasperation, making him slightly dizzy and off-balance.

"Undo me, will you dear?"

Ron reached over and unzipped his wife's dress unsteadily, and then watched lovingly as she shrugged her shoulders and the garment slowly slid down the long beautiful curve of her torso. He reached down the length of her shapely legs and playfully brought his hand up inside her half slip, pushing the hem up abruptly before she had time to resist.

"Ohhhhhh!" Sharon exclaimed, jumping forward from the electric contact of his fingertips. She was ultra sensitive along the softness of her inner thighs, especially in that nakedly smooth place above the tops of her nylons. "Oh, stop it, Ron, that tickles."

Ron frowned slightly, and sat again on the bed. He detected a note of reproach in her voice, a note he had heard often in their married years.

He knew his wife enjoyed sex and being aroused, but it was almost as though she didn't want to admit that fact to herself. He continued to stroke her long tapered legs, moving his hand up to tantalize the pubic mound so provocatively prominent under the silk crotch band of her panties. She wiggled her ripe flaring hips as if in protest, but didn't step away.

"Ohhhhhh, Ron. Oh darling! I love you so much!" Sharon turned suddenly, almost as if to escape the maddening caress of his fingers, and flung herself at her husband, pinning him to the bed. She kissed him hard as they embraced passionately.

How lucky I am, Sharon thought to herself. Landing Ron for a husband was a coup d'etat of the first order. She must have been courted by at least ten other men, and he had been constantly surrounded by other women, yet somehow she had won him away from all the other girls. He was going to be a success, she had implicit faith in that. He was confident of his writing skill, and his art columns had been nationally recognized as the work of a talented writer and critic.

And she was important to him. He had told her so, many times, and she made herself reaffirm the promise to herself that she would do all in her power to help him and become a partner in his success. This key element to their marriage made her love him all the more. Of course, he was so wrapped up in his work that it seemed that they weren't as close as they used to be, and in the evenings, he was often so tired and frustrated that they hadn't made love as many times as before… and this worried her. Not that she needed it so very much, oh, she did, but not as often as a man does, but because Ron didn't seem to respond as much as he used to.

A slight spark of worry crossed Sharon's mind as she hugged and kissed her husband. Was the magic going out of their marriage? Had the excitement of their sex life lost its luster, and Ron become bored with her? He didn't seem to be bored now, not with his heated lips pressed so tightly to hers, or his quiet moaning from deep within his throat as his arousal became stronger, or the hard throbbing lump of his rising penis as it stretched against her leg. She was being foolish, she concluded.

He loved her more than ever.

Ron turned his head and smiled at his young wife. She returned his smile coyly, and his hands slid along her sides and then cupped the tightly clenched alabaster mounds of her buttocks. He moved his fingers higher, connecting with the tight elastic band of her panties, running his hands along the warm satiny skin. She squirmed beneath his touch, then let her loins ease timidly up into his hardening penis only for a moment.

Then, without warning, she stood up, almost businesslike, arched her back and unsnapped her brassiere. The white cups fell from her breasts like petals from ivory rose buds, and she stood for a moment with the ruby tips pointing at her panting husband. Then she hooked her thumbs in the elastic waistband of her panties and half slip, and removed them in one easy, graceful motion, throwing them on the dresser beside her.

Without a word she lay down beside him, stretching nakedly out along the king-sized bed, spreading her limbs.