12 comments/ 42797 views/ 1 favorites It's My Life: Six By: RebeccaBrowning Thanks to all for making this an enjoyable experience, and I appreciate your words of support. We had almost been married a year when the Spring of 1975 rolled around, and the marriage that I envisioned a year ago had become something very different. Each day I hoped it would become more in line with the way I had thought it would be, and each day became more and more bizarre. * * * * * * Chapter 1. Our swingin' social life. Mike picked me up from work one afternoon, and he was acting really antsy as he drove us home. An antsy Mike was rarely good as far as I was concerned, mainly because that usually meant that something was about to happen to me. This would prove to be no exception. "We're going on the road again," Mike sang in his best imitation of Bob Hite of Canned Heat. "This weekend babe," Mike announced. "A little vacation." Vacation was a word that I had not heard from Mike before, and for a minute my head spun with excitement before I came back to earth. This was Mike talking, after all, and with our finances I figured that for us a vacation would be a night in a tent somewhere. I was close. "Syracuse!" Mike announced, referring to a city about 50 miles west of us. "Syracuse?" I asked. "What's in Syracuse besides a college?" "We got invited to a party," Mike said. "Not just a beer and chips party, but a real party with classy people." Where we fit in as far as that crowd went was something I didn't understand, and Mike was typically vague about the whole trip. From past experience that could only mean that something was up, and most likely it would be something weird. We drove to Syracuse that Saturday afternoon, and spent the better part of an hour driving around the general area of the interstate exit, in search of the cheapest possible budget motel room. While Mike scanned the signs outside the motel rooms, making the value judgements necessary to determine whether a room that was $17.76 would be better than the one that was $19 but had a pool. "At least this will be interesting cocktail conversation with these society types tonight," I commented dryly. "You can tell them how we spent the afternoon driving all over East Buttfuck trying to save 75 cents by getting the cheapest possible motel room in the city." "That's how people get to be where they are in this world," Mike the economist retorted. "Watch the pennies and the dollars take care of themselves." "I think we passed a big cardboard refrigerator box a mile or so back," I quipped, resisting the urge to inform Mike that spending twenty bucks on a motel room instead of just driving back home after this party, would also make financial sense. No way, for the motel room was part of Mike's grand plan. A plan that I was still in the dark about when we checked into this cheap motel on the outskirts of Syracuse. It had been a warm spring day, and I had managed to get sweaty enough on the 50 mile trip that had taken nearly two hours, so that another shower was necessary before getting dressed for this party. When I emerged from the shower Mike was waiting, and to my surprise helped me dry off, showing his tender and caring side that I always loved. Probably because I saw it so infrequently. "You're so beautiful babe," Mike said as he dried my back. "I'm really lucky to have you." Even though I knew that none of this was really designed for my benefit, I went along with it because it felt so nice to be wanted by the man that I still loved for some reason. "What's that Mike?" I asked as I looked up at the dress hanging on the hook on the door. "That's your party dress Becky," Mike announced. "I got it special for you. Great, ain't it?" I had brought a dress to wear, and it was a very conservative and simple dress. Nothing like what was hanging on the door in front of me. "Where are we going, Laugh-In?" I asked as I looked at the brightly colored dress with the spaghetti straps that Mike had gotten me, and it looked just like something that Judy Carne or Goldie Hawn would have worn on that television show. "You'll look incredible in it babe," Mike said, and while I had to admit that I liked it despite the fact that it was a little dated for 1975, I wasn't sure that it was right for me. It was going to be pretty obvious that I wasn't wearing a bra, for one thing, as the fabric was thin. The sides were really low as well, which meant that..." "Oh, now I see," I said as Mike coincidentally just then lifted my arms and dried my armpits. "I'm going to be the entertainment." "You're too paranoid, and way too sensitive," Mike said as he meticuously continued to work the towel. "Lots of women look just like you. European women too!" "Well, the last I checked Syracuse isn't in Europe," I complained as Mike went on, practically drying each of my many armpit hairs individually for me. I had stopped shaving under my arms a few months ago at Mike's request - or was it instruction? I didn't mind doing it for him, as he had certainly paid more attention to me, at least for awhile. It's just that I felt very self-conscious about it, especially seeing how "well endowed" I was in those areas, and while it excited Mike, I was sure he was in the minority as far as public opinion went. "You will look incredible, and I'll bet you any money that there will be other women with hairy armpits there tonight," Mike assured me. "It's a hip thing nowadays. Besides, you don't have to flaunt it if you don't want to." "Flaunting won't be necessary," I said forlornly as I looked at the skimpy garment. "I do look forward to you watching you looking under every woman's arm tonight though," "I will be," Mike said, and I didn't doubt him at all. "You'll see!" I envisioned a long night with my arms pinned to my sides, and could only hope that the booze was flowing, because I had a feeling that I was going to feel the need to get shit faced as soon as possible. Chapter 2. Party time. We got dressed and headed out to this party, and what a sorry sight we were. Since I was one of this motley crew and felt that way, I can't imagine what we looked like to the real world. Two goobers who gave every indication that they had just emerged from a time capsule dated 1968, with me in my 'Sock it to me!' dress, and Mike in a new acquisition of his own. A Nehru jacket. "What is this we're going to, a costume party?" I asked when Mike had first put on the olive green relic and checked himself out in the mirror. "All that's missing is a medallion and you'll look like a pale Sammy Davis Jr.!" I wasn't surprised in the least when he went over to his suitcase and pulled out a silver necklace with a peace symbol on it, and did a little dance while looking at his reflection. "What do you think?" Mike said proudly, flashing me a peace sign, and getting half of one back in return. "I think you went to shop at the Salvation Army thrift store." "Your dress was brand new," Mike said defiantly. "This looks like it was hardly ever worn." "No wonder," I mused. "Relax Becky," Mike said. "They know we're hippies." "We are?" I asked increduously. "You were playing a Raspberries album before we left the house." "We're plenty cool, and a whole lot hipper than anybody else that's going to be there," Mike said. "This isn't just any party we got invited to, you know. They are very selective." "Who is?" I asked while watching Mike try and drive while reading what seemed to be directions, after refusing my offer to help. "I'll tell you when we get there," Mike said while hanging a quick left. "That makes sense," I said. "After all, why tell me now in the car while I can still jump out." I dug around the bottom of the car console and found a half of a joint, which was what I needed at that point, but in far greater quantities than that. I refused Mike's reach for the joint after I got it going. "I'll give it to you when we get there," I assured him as the tips of my fingers burned. We got there after a lengthy drive, and "there" was a pretty fancy neighborhood by anybody's standards. There were a number of cars parked on the quiet street as we parked and climbed out of our latest "new car", a 1968 Olds Cutlass 442. It was the fifth car we had owned in the short time we had been married, and was our best by far according to Mike, especially when he got around to fixing the front end damage like he planned. Sure. "What are you doing with my bag?" I asked Mike as he pulled my little suitcase out of the trunk. "You'll need your stuff," Mike said. I stopped at the end of the driveway and looked at my hipster hubby walking up the driveway toward this beautiful split level ranch alone, before noticing I was not with him. "C'mon Becky." "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on." "It's a party," Mike said. "You know, with swingers like us." "We aren't swingers Mike!" I pleaded. "We're still fucking newlyweds!" "Ssssh Becky," Mike said as he looked over his shoulder at the house. "You're going to make me look bad. Yourself too. We have to go through with this now, and I promise you'll have fun." "How are we even here?" "I saw this ad in a magazine," Mike finally explained with an annoyed voice. "These people have these parties every month, and they only invite a few couples besides their regular group. It's like an honor. I wrote and asked if we could get invited, and we got accepted. It's a little drink - a little smoke, and then everybody pairs off, like at random. What's the big deal? Everybody's doing it these days. These people are high class too! Look at this place!" With that I found myself on the doorstep while Mike rang the bell. Mike was greeted warmly, and we were whisked inside the house, where the party was in progress. "I'll take your bag sweetie," the guy that answered the door said, and a woman escorted us upstairs and into the living room, where a group of about twenty people were milling around while jazz played in the background. "Hey everybody," a pretty blonde in her mid 30's yelled out. "I want you all to meet our newest friends, Mike and Becky." Everybody in the room waved or yelled out a greeting while Mike bellowed back and waved. As for me, I smiled a little and looked around for the bar. "Looking for something dearie?" a woman about twice my age asked as she came up alongside me. "A drink," I said meekly, and she took me by the elbow and together we wove our way around to the booze, where she made me a vodka and tonic. "Your first time here I see," my new friend said as I downed the drink as fast as I could and asked for another. "Nervous?" "Yes," I answered, and my new friend smiled and introduced herself as Betty, and we shook hands while I tried to not look at her gigantic bosom which was threatening to explode out of her blouse at any minute. "You should be nervous," Betty said with a laugh. "You should be wearing a poncho because most of the guys in this room are going to be drooling all over you by the end of the night. Half the women too." "Betty, don't be monopolizing the new blood," a deep voice said from behind me. "I should have known you'd be the first to track the scent of fresh meat, Tyrone," Betty said, and I turned to face the voice, which belonged to a tall black guy with sunglasses and a canary yellow sportscoat. "They said you looked like Cher baby, and for once they weren't telling tales," this Tyrone said and he took my hand and brought it to his lips. "You're sweet and petite and you know the rest." "Nice to meet you," I said trembling as his cologne washed over me. "Do me a favor and feel this for me," Tyrone said, and he handed me something cold and metallic. It was a set of keys on a keychain, and he leaned forward next to my ear as he squeezed my hand around it. "Commit the shape of this to your memory baby," Tyrone whispered loudly. "When you go fishin' later I want you to make sure you find this, because I got the power to change your life and give you an evening you'll never forget." "Who's your friend baby?" a blonde asked as she came up to Tyrone and put her arm around him. "This is the girl of my dreams," Tyrone said. "Oh, the little hippie girl," the blonde said with a condesending attitude. "She's a cutie, but aren't you afraid you might be a little too much for her to handle, Tyrone?" "Rhonda baby, I'm too much for any one woman to handle, you know that," Tyrone said. "Now the two of you combined, now that might be more fair." "Sounds good to me baby," Rhonda cooed as she squirmed around, no doubt as the result of Tyrone's free hand which was working around her backside. "I can dig it," Tyrone announced to one and all, "and besides, we're odd numbered here tonight. Cher baby makes three and that's fine with me" "Um, where's the bathroom?" I asked, as a feeling of claustrophobia engulfed me. Betty pointed me toward a hallway and I started hustling in that direction, only to look down and see that I still had Tyrone's keys in my hand. "Thought you might have been trying to cheat the game baby," Tyrone said as I went back and returned them to him before scurrying away. "Not that I was complaining or anything. It would have been fine by me, sugar." Chapter 3. Advice from another new friend. I walked down the hallway and saw that there were a couple of people waiting in line for the facility, and I was glad that I really didn't have to go. I walked further down the hall, looking at pictures on the walls and basically just killing time, trying to delay going back to the party. I felt like I was on display, and while nobody said anything, I got the impression that everyone thought that we were kind of amusing, like a joke or something. I couldn't blame them for thinking that, because that's how I felt. I didn't belong here, and neither did Mike. On the wall there was a picture of a man and a woman on the beach, with two young children. These people had kids? Where were they? Why would you be throwing a party like this if you had a family? I supposed it was one thing if you were young and attached, but quite another thing if you had a real family. "Hiding I take it," a voice said in my ear, and I was startled, having been deep in thought. "Sorry," the woman said. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you." "That's okay," I said. "I was lost in space or something." "You're Becky I take it," The woman said. "I'm Carla." We shook hands and I looked at this woman, who seemed a little out of place here as well, but then again who was I to talk? She was about 35 and was dressed more conservatively than most of the other women here, librarian-ish in a way, but very sharp looking. Her hair was drawn back and while she smiled, it didn't seem to have any real emotion behind it. "Nice to meet you," I said. "My pleasure," Carla said. "Can we talk for a minute?" "Sure," I answered, and Carla led me into a room with a bunch of coats on the bed, and closed the door behind her. "None of my affair, but you really seemed uncomfortable out there. Almost like you were forced into being here," Carla said. "Forced? No, more like coerced. Duped. Deceived. Conned. Dragged. Persuaded." "I know the feeling," Carla said with a laugh. "That's how I first got involved in coming to these parties about a year ago." "Why do you keep coming back?" "Trying to keep my husband happy," Carla replied. "He enjoys the variety, and I go along because - I don't know. Good question Becky. Why am I here? Obligated? Bored?" "I don't understand how this works, or what I'm supposed to do." "Your hubby didn't fill you in?" Carla said, and a wry smirk appeared in the corner of her mouth when I shook my head no. "Well, in about an hour or so, all the guys throw their keys into a big bowl," Carla explained. "Then the girls draw straws to determine who picks in what order. You go up and grab a key out of the bowl - you're not supposed to try and pick out a certain one, mind you. The guy whose keys you pull out, that's your man." "And..." "You dutifully follow him out to his car, and you drive to his house or hotel room, and he fucks you," Carla said coldly. "That's it? Just like that?" "That's about it," Carla said. "Sometimes you just go get drunk with the person if you really don't want to be with each other that way, but that's rare. These guys would stick their dicks in the crack of dawn if they could, and most of the women try out other guys to see if they fuck as badly as their own husbands do." "Not very romantic," I quipped. "Just like real life," Carla said. "Then why are you here?" I asked. "I've been married for 8 years to a guy who owns a string of car dealerships. I signed a pre-nuptual agreement that still has a couple of years left in it. I was divorced and a cashier at Woolworth's when I met him, and now I live pretty nicely and piss money away left and right on whatever I want." "Oh." "It ain't love, but it ain't bad," Carla said. "Here, take this," Carla said. "It's my phone number, in case you ever want to talk or anything." I nodded and leaned back against the wall as Carla came up to me. "I saw Tyrone leaning on you," Carls said. "He's all talk but the action isn't all that great. Believe me, after Tyrone you can go back, if you know what I mean, and at top speed too! Avoid Big Wally if you can, for obvious reasons." "I don't know any of these people," I said. "There's an odd number here tonight," Carla informed me. "They always invite extra women to try and make it come out even in case one of the wives comes up with a good excuse, but it never does end up right. Liz and Dave will probably claim you because it's their place." I stood in a daze as Carla continued. "My husband is all right - he's the bald guy that looks a little like Don Rickles," Carla said. "He's got a small dick and cums fast, so at least it's over with quick and painlessly. I meant that about calling me up some time honey. You're a real doll." While she spoke, Carla leaned forward until she was on top of me, and in seconds her mouth was on mine. Her tongue found its way into my mouth while her hands found my breasts, and as her hands kneaded my tiny orbs her tongue was dancing with mine. My reaction was - letting her do what she wanted, and as she ground me into the wall, her knee sliding up between my legs, I began returning the affection. It was only the door opening briefly, and a startled "Oops sorry!" from the intruder, that broke up apart. "Call me, baby," Carla said as the door opened and she left to rejoin the party, leaving me standing there with her lipstick on my face and an embarrassingly wet place between my legs. 4. Goin' fishin'. "Okay everybody, settle down," the blonde that had announced our arrival yelled out. "It's time to pair up." The room got a little quieter as the music got turned off and the crowd formed around the perimeter of the room. There was a large bowl on the coffee table which was covered by a towel, where all the men had thrown their keys a few minutes earlier. I had met almost all the men and many of the women since I had rejoined the party, but most of the names and the faces were a jumble. I had been firing down drinks left and right, but I had developed quite a tolerance to alcohol over the years, so I was still very much sober and standing, much to my dismay. Mike had been out of sight most of the night, but now I caught sight of him on the opposite side of the room. He waved to me after he tried to look down a redhead's blouse and I rolled my eyes in disgust. "Now tonight we have 11 girls and 10 guys, so one lucky guy is going to have his hands full," the blonde said. "Look no further Liz baby. Here's your lucky guy right here," Tyrone bellowed from the corner, and the crowd jeered and hooted at him. It's My Life: Six "Sorry Tyrone," the blonde, who was apparently Liz, answered. "We're the hosts this month, and so we claim the home court advantage." "Who are you guys picking?" somebody asked from behind me. "Dave has decided that he was going to be the lucky guy tonight - like he is every night I might add," the blonde yelled out. "And we choose - Becky!" Liz came over to me and gave me a hug, followed by her husband Dave, and I stood there between them as dazed and confused as good be, while the other people heckled them. "Sore losers!" Liz yelled. "Go ahead now ladies, pick your prizes. You already know the order you pick in." I look at the couple who had 'picked' me, and everything seemed surreal to me. This couple weren't hip swingers; they were a couple that looked like everyday people you'd see on the street. They looked like the couple that owned Mister Ed, who crying out loud. The wife was a bubbly blonde with a very attractive figure, and the husband was a very straight-laced looking guy that could have been a school teacher, or an accountant or something. What the hell did they want with me? Women were going up and reaching in the bowl for the keys while I stood in a fog and watched. "Boy, once the little hippie girl got grabbed, all the guys started moping around looking like they just dropped their ice cream cones or something!" my old friend of an hour Betty bellowed as she went over to the bowl and reached in blindly. "Okay, who's the lucky stud?" Betty jingled the keys in her hand, and I recognized whose they were by the can opener that was attached to them. Mike. Mike yelled when he saw Betty with the keys, and as he hustled over to her, I could see that he was in heaven, and he nearly wiped out a lamp in his eagerness to get to Betty. It was all he could do to resist grabbing on to those jugs of hers right there in the middle of the room. "Oh, it's your man Becky!" Betty cackled as Mike brought her past me. "I'll take real good care of him." "Yahoo!" my asshole of a husband said as he clomped on by and gave me a wink as he skipped down the stairs with Betty. Out the door. In my mind I envisioned Betty's face as she climbed into that piece of shit Olds and got taken to that dive of a motel room, all the while getting a description from Mike about how big his dick was. Maybe he had it out already, and she was gobbling away on it as they drove off. Asshole. Soon all of the keys had been grabbed, and everybody headed for their cars and the evening of pleasure they had in store for themselves. Then it was just me left behind. Me and Liz and Dave. Chapter 5. The mess left behind. "I hate it when they do that!" Liz complained as she began picking up the bottles and glasses that had been left behind in every corner of the room. I went around and started helping her pick up, not knowing what else to do with myself. "You're a dear," Liz said while we cleaned up the living room. "The agreement is that people are supposed to clean up before they go, but I think we're the only ones that ever bother to when we go to the other folks places." I picked up the litter and glasses, but none too fast, since the sooner we got done meant the sooner whatever was going to happen, would happen. It didn't take very long though, and in a few minutes Liz and Dave were taking me down the stairs and into a room opposite their garage. It was a den with a fireplace and Christmas lights along a bar against the back wall. It was a cozy little place, and I was tempted to ask if this was where they took all their prizes to play with, but they were being very nice and friendly to me so I shelved my sarcasm for the time being. Liz brought a bottle of champagne over to the couch and sat next to me with her husband Dave on my other side, and she handed Dave the bottle for popping. The glasses got poured and they toasted me, and told me how happy they were that I had come to their party. "You seem very nervous," Dave said to me, and I admitted that I was. "No need to be honey," Liz said, rubbing her hand along my arm, and I watched goose bumps rise in the wake of her touch. "Absolutely not," Dave agreed, and the preppy looking man put his hand on my knee to reassure me. "We're going to have a wonderful time, the three of us." I held out my glass for a refill, and Dave poured about half a glass as the bubbles filled the rest. "This stuff sneaks up on you, so be careful," Dave told me in a fatherly tone. "I will be," I said. "You know, ever since we saw your picture, we were really excited that we got to host this month's party," Liz said as she leaned into me, our bare legs touching. "My picture?" I asked quizically. "You know, the pictures that your husband sent us when he answered our ad," Dave said. "Yes," Liz said. "As soon as Dave saw you, he was excited as a kid in a candy store. I was getting a little jealous there for a while." "Now Liz, cut it out!" Dave said. "Well you were excited Dave," Liz replied. "No sense lying about it." "Um, which pictures were they?" I asked, trying to think about what they were talking about. We had pictures from our wedding, but that was it. They were nothing to get excited about anyway. "I think we have them up in our room," Dave said and jumped up and ran up the stairs to fetch them. "Dave got really hot and bothered when he saw you," Liz said, and she smiled at me with the most perfect set of teeth imaginable while grazing my forearm lightly with her nails, bringing a shiver down my spine and goose bumps all over this time. "I did too." "Here they are!" Dave announced just before his wife was getting ready to attack me, and just before I was going to let her. "Let's see, this one is obviously Mike. Dave sat down next to me and handed me a picture while on my other side, his wife Liz was firing up a fattie that we would have made a half dozen joints out of at home. The picture was a Polaroid of a naked guy, but only from the waist down. I recognized the limp cock as Mike's alright, and Dave handed me another of a very erect Mike, again from the waist down. Self-portraits, it was plain to see. An jerk holding a polaroid camera as far away from his dick as he could reach and snapping away. "Quite the photographer," I said as I took the joint from Liz and took a deep toke, noticing right away that this stuff was excellent quality and certainly nothing like the cheap harsh crap I was used to. Another perk that goes with prosperity, I mused. "Quite the piece of equipment too," Liz said admiringly. "You won't be seeing anything impressive like that here tonight." "The importance of that crap is highly overrated!" I announced in a regal tone, and the pompousness of my voice got all of us laughing. "That's good," Dave said. "That is good!" I said, and squeezed his knee for emphasis, proving at least to myself that I indeed was, if not stoned, then well on my way there. "This has to be you," Dave said, and handed me a photograph of a naked broad laying on her stomach in the middle of a bed. My bed, my sheets, and my ass. "Not my best half," I muttered. "Looks absolutely beautiful to me," Liz whispered into my ear, and my body quivered when she pulled my long brown hair back over my shoulder and nibbled on my ear. "This is a nice shot too," Dave said, and handed me another Polaroid of me. This time I was on my back, arms and legs akimbo, and revealing every furry inch of my body. "Don't remember posing for that one," I said, not to mention the fact that we didn't own a Polaroid camera either. "The only thing you can't tell is that my eyes are brown." My eyes being closed, I could only assume that Mike had been a busy boy with a borrowed camera one evening, and had taken advantage of me being drunk or sleepy. "Oh yeah, your eyes are closed," Dave said. "Never noticed that before. Guess you were sleeping, huh?" "Dave was too busy looking at the rest of you to notice," Liz said before kissing my shoulder. "I'm guilty too." "That's okay," I announced with a shrug as I grabbed the joint on the way back past me. "At least you could see what you were getting." "And loving it too baby," Liz said. "So many times people show up and you wonder where the person that posed for the picture went." "Not you Becky," Dave said as he flipped the other pictures of me on the coffee table. "You're the real thing." "Even prettier in the flesh," Liz said as her fingers ran over the outline of my nipple which was stiff and very visible through the fabric of my dress. "Your breasts are adorable." "All of you is," Dave said from my other side as he kissed my neck, and I contorted around toward him. I felt Liz untying the string that kept that side of my dress up, and after she pulled it aside she licked and kissed my collarbone and shoulder while Dave was untying the other side. The top of my dress came down, and Dave was busily going back and forth, sucking and kissing each breast while Liz swiveled me around and nibbled on my neck from behind. This went on for quite a long time, and as it continued I was burning with a kind of desire that I didn't even know was inside me, and I lost any semblance of self control. LIz was driving me insane as she licked all around my neck, biting my shoulders and back, while Dave's mouth kept lapping at my breasts. Dave's kisses traveled upwards when Liz lifted my arm, and when he began kissing and chewing under my arm, my body arched back into Liz and I had what felt like a little orgasm from this dual assualt. Chapter 6. Nice rug. The next thing I remember was being on a blanket spread out on the rug. Nice rug too, and there was so much padding underneath it I felt like I was on a bed. My dress was long gone, having been relieved of it back on the couch, as well as my panties, and Liz was pulling off her own blouse as she knelt beside me. She was wearing a low cut red bra that cradled what seemed to be a nice pair of breasts. "Let me," I heard myself say, and found myself reaching behind Liz and unhooking her bra. The harness lurched forward and my hands slid the straps off her creamy white shoulders, exposing a gorgeous pair of full and round breasts, and as I cupped them I felt their remarkable firmess as her plump nipples bore into my palms. "They're beautiful," I said as Liz crawled on top of me, her globes dragging over mine as she kissed her way down my stomach and through my dense bush. "Oh Dave, Becky's so wet!" Liz cried out after sliding her tongue through my drenched opening, and she looked up and over to the side where Dave was standing and watching. Dave was naked, and my eyes traveled up his wiry body and saw that his cock was rock hard and bobbing in front of him. Liz soon climbed out from between my legs and was replaced by Dave, who knelt quickly with his cock in hand. His stiff cock slid into me like a hot knife through butter, and he began thrusting into me briskly, his nice sized member comfortably filling me up. The sloppy sound of us pounding together echoed in the room, as Dave thrust into me at a variety of angles, all of them good, and as Dave finally began driving into me even harder, I knew that I was verge of an orgasm. "Harder honey harder!" Liz was screaming as she knelt beside me, her one hand clawing at her tits, and the other working frantically between her own legs while she looked at me getting fucked by her husband. I think that Liz may have cum first, but I couldn't be sure, because I was right behind her. When my orgasm came, it hit me like a freight train. I was sliding back along the rug as Dave slammed his cock into me without mercy, and my legs were wrapped tightly around his ass as wave after wave of pleasure slammed over me, the result of the most incredible orgasm a man had ever caused within me. When I finally stopped cumming, Dave was pulling me back away from the edge of the fireplace, where our frantic coupling had sent me, and back onto the rug. From my groggy look over toward him, I could see that he was far from done, as his glistening cock was as hard as ever. Dave moved me onto my hands and knees, and as he climbed behind me I felt his hardness glide back into my pussy. Liz was still kneeling beside me on the blanket, and I motioned for her to come around in front of me. Liz caught on to what I was asking for, and as she laid down on her back in front of me and parted her thighs, I learned two things. One was that Liz was not a natural blonde, as the trim little triangle that adorned her womanhood was nearly the same shade of brown as my own was. Secondly, as my face went down and I began licking the sweet nectar out of Liz's pussy, I realized that I was no longer mad about being here. Far from mad. Chapter 7. Still on the rug. I woke up with a start; the kind of jolt you get when you have no recollection of where you are or how you got there. When my head stopped whirling, I remembered that I was in the den of a couple that I had never met before this evening - or was it yesterday now? I was also as naked as the day I was born. I remembered that Dave, the man sleeping beside me on the rug, had made love to me for what had seemed like forever. Spinning me around in a wild variety of positions, I remember having more orgasms than I could count, and only when it was clear than I could cum no more, did Dave cum himself. I remembered that all during that amazing experience, Liz and I had been tearing at each other with everything we had as well. There was not a single pore on my body that had not been shown affection by the two of them, as I had been licked, kissed, fondled and bit from head to toe. "Here baby, you must be thirsty," Liz said as she crawled back down next to me with a glass of champagne, and even though I already had more than enough to drink I welcomed the cool fluid on my parched throat. "Thanks Liz," I said, and set this glass down before allowing myself to ease back against the warm softness of her breasts. "You having fun yet, Becky?" Liz said as she held me close to her, kissing my neck and shoulders. "I'm speechless, for once," I said with a chuckle and a shiver. "Your husband is a remarkable lover," I added as I nodded toward this incredibly ordinary man with incredible ordinary equipment who had made me feel things I had never know possible before. "I think you killed him though," Liz said with a giggle, as she reached over and nudged him with her toe. "Don't let him hear you say that you thought he was remarkable, because I'll never hear the end of it." "You both were amazing," I said. "You were the amazing one," Liz said. "The two of us fed off of you and your energy. Believe me, it's not always like that. Dave's going to be sorry he didn't get his wish though." "What was that?" "Well, your husband wrote that you gave better head than anybody in the world," Liz said. "Dave couldn't wait for that." "My asshole told you that?" I said. "What else did he tell you?" "Oh-oh! Me and my big mouth." "No, I'm not mad," I said in a lie. "I'm just curious about what he told you about me." "Well, let's see," Liz mused. "He said that he gave great head, that you liked it when people said you looked like Cher..." "Fucker!" I muttered with embarrassment. "No wonder people are always telling me that. I know damn well it isn't true." "There's a little similarity there baby," Liz said. "The cheekbones and the mannerisms a bit." "Please don't be mad at him for saying that," Liz continued. "He really only had positive things to say about you. And Dave and I were crazy about you after we saw the pictures of you. Dave especially, because he has a real passion for this." As she spoke Liz reached around and gave a little tug on the hair that was peeking out from under my arm, and I flushed with embarrassment. "I thought Dave spent a lot of time playing around under there," I said while shaking my head. "Another one of Mike's ideas." "Hey, I think it looks sexy on you," Liz said and gave me a squeeze. "Did he tell you that I liked getting kissed on my neck and shoulders too?" I inquired. "Ummm... no, I don't think so," Liz said after thinking. "I guess that's just something I like to do. You enjoy that, I take it?" "Mmmmmmmm," I replied dreamily, and received a nibble on the neck in response. "Maybe I should wake Dave up," Liz said. "Why don't I?" I offered. "I think I know a way to do it, if you don't mind that is." "He's all yours baby," Liz said, as she let me roll over to her husband. I looked at Dave's flaccid penis, so soft and innocent looking as it hung off to the side, nestled in the dark tuft of hair that surrounded it. My tongue took a swipe at his balls on the way up to his cock, and as my lips slid up the tool I could taste myself all over him. My nose landed daintly in the soft nest of fur as Dave twitched, and I felt his manhood stir in my mouth as my tongue slided along the underside on my way back up. My mouth nibbled around the mushroom crown, tongue probing the tender slit at the tip, and as I looked up I saw Dave stir back to consciousness with Liz smiling down on him as she brushed the hair from his face. I began to work in earnest as Dave got himself more comfortably positioned on his back, and as he became fully engorged I began sliding my wet lips down the entire length of him, squeezing his balls, and then sucking them while I felt him wiggling around beneath me. Time after time I brought Dave to the brink of orgasm, only to let him come back down slowly. The head of his cock would slide along the roof of my mouth and graze my throat, and I would see his breathing begin to quicken, and his hands would clutch at the blanket beneath him, and I would slow again. I did this for as long as dared, and when I looked up through his pubes and saw Dave's hand slapping at his forehead and begging for release, and saw Liz smiling - cackling with glee as she watched me swallowing her husband's cock whole with every bob of my head - all the while keeping him teetering on the brink of orgasm, I winked at her and let him go. Dave screamed as he came, with me sucking on that erupting cock like a woman possessed. Dave was squealing as he thrashed around, sending the fireplace tools and the holder flying as he flailed his arms wildly, as his seed kept spurting into my mouth and down my throat, my one hand milking his sack while my other hand toyed with his anus. All the while Liz sat beside him laughing maniacally at the scene that was unfolding before her. "Please - no more," Dave whimpered weakly as I kept his cock in my mouth long after it had stopped twitching and ejaculating, still trying to drain every last drop out of him that could be had before I let it slide out of my mouth and plop harmless back onto him. I got up on my hands and looked up and Dave and Liz with a grin, running my tongue over my lips and proclaiming it yummy. "Wait until I get enough strength to get up Becky," Dave said as he struggled to prop himself up on his elbow. "Ummm - according to my expert opinion, I think that there dick is dead," I announced while giving his deflated dick a nod. "Well, there are other ways I can get revenge on you," Dave said with a cackle as he began to move toward me. "And I'll bet that between me and Liz, we can have you begging for mercy before long too." "I'll give you until sunrise," I said as they crept up to me and eased me onto my back, their tongues sliding up along my thighs in tandem, in a race that only I would win." Epilogue. I got picked up by my dear husband around nine the next morning, after enjoying a breakfast fit for a queen. The breakfast was preceeded by a most exhilarating shower, when I discovered that Liz and Dave had a lovely bathroom with a shower that could not only accommodate three most comfortably, but also allowed enough room for a variety of activities completely unrelated to hygiene. It's My Life: Six "How was it for you?" Mike asked excitedly as we drove down the road and back home. "We broke the bed at the motel, Betty and me! How was it for you?" "Never even made it to bed, I'm afraid," I said as I looked out the window. "Really? Shit, I'm sorry," Mike said. "That Betty, she was something alright. You should have seen the size of her tits, Becky! Man, those babies were huge - no shit." "That's nice dear," I said, and although Mike talked for most of the way home, I can't really remember what he said. Too busy thinking nice thoughts of my own to listen, or care. ****** Thank you so much for reading my stories, and a special thank you to those who comment and write to me. I have had computer problems lately, and the e-mail account here has crashed and shut me out a few times as well, so if you have written me and not received an answer, that means I did not get it, and for that I apologize. Resend if you can. I promise to always answer each and everyone that takes the time to write me.