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The Swinging Door

By: LiffShannon



Editor: WhiteWave48

Chapter 1 - New neighbor gives Mike a hard time

My strange story begins on a sultry summer's day in a harborside suburb of Sydney, Australia. I stumbled out of bed, my head as dull and thick as the weather, my eyes barely open, grateful that there was no one to nag me for padding around the house in nothing but a T shirt and wrinkled boxers. It had been a late night, but I couldn't seem to sleep past my normal waking time.

More by the Braille method than memory, I found my way into the kitchen of the spacious, nicely-furnished home that I had just moved into and was renting by the month. My clients had so much business here, it was easier to rent than to stay in a hotel and fly back and forth to the states every few weeks. After coaxing a couple of pieces of scorched toast from a testy toaster and downing some funny-tasting orange juice from a carton that warned it was 'best to consume' several weeks back, I perked up a bit.

I knew I should have pulled on my jeans first, but after a quick peek up and down the street I didn't see a soul, so I made a quick dash to the end of the walkway to grab the morning paper. Due to an unfortunate combination of a reckless attitude and a poor aim, the newspaper-boy usually managed to fling my morning newspaper into someone else's yard. That morning was no exception.

Getting down on my hands and knees, I reached into the thicket of the neighbor's hedge and managed to extract most of the paper without trouble. Absent-mindedly I eyed the day's depressing headlines, grimly musing as to why Fate decreed that the Food and Fashion Sections (useless, in my opinion) always survived intact while the front page and critical Sports Section were often rendered unreadable by morning dew or recent rain.

Still kneeling and absorbed in the ball scores of the day before, I was shocked by a decidedly female voice from above.

"Wouldn't it be easier to buy your own paper?"

I froze, but out of the corner of my eye a splash of morning sunlight on flimsy pastel caught my attention. The flimsy, it turned out, was my next-door neighbor clad in nothing but a light green (did they call that 'English lime' or 'avocado'?) negligee and a short white silken bathrobe, tied loosely in the front. I couldn't see her face, but what I could see was very nice.

The real estate broker, I recalled, had said something about my next-door neighbors. The lady of the house was an attractive blonde, Jenny, married to somebody named... Lewis, or Lawrence, or... totally blank... I think she called him 'Guy' for some reason. He, however, was the last thing on my mind at this point.

"Damn," I muttered to myself, "who is this foxy lady?"

As that thought tripped across my mind my eyes wandered up toward a pair of pretty legs, silken panties, jutting breasts and hard nipples. Needless to say, my lower regions began to respond.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"More like the pussy," I answered, then thought... did I really say that?

"I thought I was the only one up this early," she said, pleasantly.

What could I say? The sun was not the only thing coming up fast at this point. Before I could say a thing, Jenny reached down, grabbed my right hand and pulled me to my feet. As I rose up, so did the rest of me. I was pleasantly surprised to get a full view of Jenny although I was not able to hide my state of mind. An unusual coolness on my lower parts caused me to look down to see my hard dick sticking straight out of my boxers like a large pink broom handle.

"I'm sorry..." I mumbled, waiting for a slap, or a scream to wake up the neighborhood. 

Jenny, acting as if a man's stiff prick poking out of his shorts was the most normal thing in the world, simply shook my hand with a very firm and warm handshake. Another neighbor jogged by as we were speaking, noticeably slowing his pace and widening his eyes as he passed the two of us. I was trying very hard to keep my eyes level with hers, without much success.

"I think I heard you come in late last night," I said, trying to re-position the newspaper over my rising interest. "Did you have a good time?"

"Well... I did, but..." Jenny hesitated. She was flushed and excited about something, and a little anxious. She looked steadily into my eyes, then lowered her gaze and blushed. I couldn't tell if she was looking at the ground, or staring at my throbbing cock, which was now causing the newspaper to move, as if on its own accord. 

"I need a second opinion," she finally blurted out. "On something that happened last night. Can we talk?"

"Sure," I said, shifting the newspaper a little higher to a more strategic position. "Want to come over after we both get dressed?"

"No," Jenny said, breathlessly, "I need to talk now."

Before I could say another word, Jenny rushed up the sidewalk towards my front door, with me in her wake. She strode right through the front hallway, took a quick right to the living room, and sat down on one of the blue velvet Queen Anne wing chairs, next to the Italian marble fireplace. In that position her short robe didn't cover much, riding up over her thighs and giving me a quick glimpse of that pretty puss before she changed positions and crossed her lovely legs.

"Is it too early for a drink?" my pretty neighbor asked, a little nervously.

"I make a wicked Bloody Mary," I replied, with an emphasis on the "wicked". I took a little longer than necessary in the kitchen to let Big Ben cool down, and when I returned with two tall glasses (I didn't want her to drink alone), she took a long pull on her frosty glass and relaxed a bit.

"To start with, none of this was my idea, you know," Jenny said after taking a deep breath. "It never would have happened," she insisted, "if my husband hadn't decided to... well, I'll get to that. But it really is," she said firmly, "all his fault."

Nothing new there, I thought, it's always our fault, isn't it? 

"Last week." Jenny continued, "Guy ran into Rick and Marti, our former neighbors. We had all moved in to this neighborhood at the same time and pretty soon the four of us had become good friends. Unfortunately, a few years ago, Rick changed jobs and he and Marti moved away. After a while, we just lost touch with them. Then, after not seeing them for... I don't know how long, my husband runs into them in town."

"It turned out that Rick's company was throwing a big party, a "special" party, he called it, for their top clients. As it turns out, one VIP couple cancelled out at the last minute, so Rick said he could bring Guy and me as his guests instead."

This got my attention. "What kind of special party?" I asked.

"That's what I said when Guy told me about this," responded Jenny. "But, he didn't really know other than lots of interesting people would be there and since the theme of the party was 'Famous Lovers,' everybody had to come in an appropriate costume. Guy, naturally, had accepted on the spot without even thinking to check with me."

Jenny frowned, then looked at her hands. 

"Rick was a real nice fellow, and I always liked his wife too," Jenny added, as she looked up, "but Marti was so... well, so outgoing and kind of risque. I mean, you didn't know sometimes if she was kidding about something or not." 

Jenny's voice trailed off, but you could tell that when she was describing Marti, she was talking about someone who was not at all inhibited, and Jenny was both excited by and wary of that.

"And besides," Jenny continued hesitantly, "with that long blonde hair of hers, and that body, which she loves to show off... Marti used to be a bunny, you know, when they had those Playboy clubs."

"You don't say?" I said as my eyebrows shot up.

Jenny looked at me and smiled. "I see I have your attention now, but please, I just have to get this all out. You might be shocked by what I'm about to tell you and I don't know what you'll think of me, but don't say anything until I'm through. Just listen, ok?"

I nodded my head, sat down on the sofa opposite her and waved my hand, as if to say 'go right ahead'. Without pausing, Jenny proceeded to tell a tantalizing tale that many might find indecent, immoral, or even scandalous. As for me, I obeyed Jenny... and I just listened.

*

As Jenny described Marti and the way men would devour her body with their eyes, I could tell that Jenny was just a little jealous of Marti. Not so much because of her friend's looks, since Jenny too was quite a beauty, but more in terms of the confidence that Marti exuded, the way she soaked up the stares of the men and tossed off the glares of other women. 

Jenny went on to explain, with some embarrassment, that she knew men found her attractive too, but she simply did not know how to handle the situation, since she loved her husband, but she needed more than just kind words and a friendly pat on the arse now and then.

It wasn't that he – the hubster – was not attentive or not fun to be with, but... she was beginning to feel that life might be passing her by. Truthfully, she sometimes felt that her life was stifling and suffocating. She needed to have a little fun, she thought, before the game was up. Alas, her own guilt and anxiety was holding her back as much as Guy.

She had been, more or less, faithful to Guy from the very beginning of their relationship, at least if you didn't count the occasional short-term fling with an old friend, solo performances with her favorite vibrator, or those torrid cyber-sex encounters. In fact, it was through the internet that she had come to understand that her erotic thoughts and fantasies were absolutely normal.

Her mind wandered to some of those hot private discussions where she chatted about unmentionable things which, although embarrassing at first, had gradually opened her eyes to her own powerful feelings and the wonderful way she could pleasure herself. The things she said and pretended to do in cyberspace were, she thought with a smile, really wild and perhaps even disgracefully wanton. But ohhh, they turned her on and made her soooo hot and wet!

At first Jenny was ticked off at Guy for accepting an invitation to a party without consulting her. If she had ever done such a thing without checking with him, he would have had a cow. Of course, the truth was, if Guy had asked her if she wanted to go, she probably would have said 'no'; but now, the more she thought about it, the more she began to look forward to the party. 

Guy was also looking forward to the party, but he hadn't a clue as to what to wear. They went through a number of history's famous pairs of lovers, but Guy nixed one after another, for various ill-defined reasons. Jenny liked Romeo and Juliet, but Guy wouldn't wear tights. Helen of Troy was out because Guy didn't think he'd look good compared to Brad Pitt. Guy suggested he could be Oscar Wilde, until Jenny gave him the evil eye and reminded her hubby that Oscar, although married, was a raging queen, and she was not about to go as his 'boyfriend' or his cuckolded wife. 

Jenny finally hit on the story of Sheherazade, the heroine of A Thousand and One Nights. By her own ingenuity, Sheherazade had staved off her execution, night after night, by continuing to beguile the powerful ruler of an Arabian Kingdom with tales of great drama and excitement, many of them involving the mystical and mysterious power of a Genie. Eventually, the king was so impressed that he made the comely Sheherazade his queen.

With this romantic story in mind, Jenny suggested that Guy go to the party as an Arabian Prince while she would be Sheherazade. Guy finally agreed, at least in part because in his mind Sheherazade would have worn one of those head-to-toe, I'm-in-here-somewhere burkas made so popular by those friendly Taliban folks.

That Saturday morning, as she was putting the finishing touches on the outfit, the telephone rang. Jenny listened to the one side she could hear, and got madder as it went on. A business trip suddenly came up and Guy had to go out of town. Jenny knew he didn't really "have" to go, but she decided not to say anything, mostly because if she said a thing it would lead to another argument. 

After he had gotten her all excited about the party, it was all off. She could have strangled him. He didn't even say he was sorry. Just, "you go on by yourself." Sure.

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how pissed she was, so she said, in as light a tone as she could muster, "Oh I might," and then waved to him as he hustled out the door. She sighed, picked up the phone and called the hotel where Rick and Marti were staying. 

Marti answered, listened for a while, then said, "Hold on; I'll be right over." Perplexed, Jenny hung up without saying more. 

Before long, Marti arrived, breathless, excited, and not willing to take no for an answer. When Jenny insisted that it wouldn't be right for her to go alone, Marti had the perfect answer: they had already told the boss that Jenny was a major potential client, and after the first couple had bombed out, it would be terrible for Rick if Jenny canceled out as well. She just had to go. 

"We'll swing on by and pick you up around 8," said Marti. "It's a special party and we think you'll have a great time. See you then."

Jenny went back to her sewing, then had a sudden thought. Yes, she would go, and the costume no longer had to please her foolishly jealous husband. She would, for the first time in a long while, please herself. After all, she was not going to do anything wrong; she had always been a good girl, and that was not about to change. 

When Jenny had put the finishing touches on her arabesque outfit, she slipped out of her clothes right there and tried it on, wriggling into the brief, jeweled two-piece with its soft, sheer harem pants and floating veils. It was time to see the whole effect – in a mirror. 

She was usually critical of her figure and frowned as she saw things that no one else would ever criticize, so this time she poured herself a double of Jameson before going in to take a good look at herself in the tall mirror at the end of the hallway. She was surprised by what she saw. 

In truth, she looked like she had appeared out of an ancient Middle East lamp, rubbed by a startled stranger, thereby invoking a shimmering vision, gradually assuming human form from a vaporous cloud of smoke and mystery. She was just stunning. 

Before long, Rick and Marti picked her up and she was off to an adventure she would never had dreamed of, even in a wet dream.

To be continued...

The Swinging Door Ch. 02



Editor: WhiteWave48

Famous Lovers on Display

Together in the car, they made a very interesting trio – Jenny as Sheherazade, Marti and Rick. At first Jenny thought that her friends were dressed as Tarzan and Jane, but it turned out that Rick was Conan the Barbarian – think: John Candy rather than Arnold – and Marti was... well... Conette the Cave Girl? She did look hot, whoever she was, in that leopard skin outfit. The girls had a few more drinks in the car as they drove on, and everybody was in a fine mood in a short time.

The party was already in high gear when they finally arrived at their destination. As Rick slowly drove past the house a second time to make sure they had the right address, it dawned on Jenny that they would be rubbing elbows with some very high-placed people if this address was any indication. The upper North Shore Tudor-style mansion was massive from the front, well set back from the street by at least 100 feet of well-tended greenery with flowering shrubs and bushes hugging the front wall, while tall liquid ambar and English oak trees graced the perfectly mown lawn.

The sly, silvery moon that glinted off the dark slate roof seemed to beckon the trio forward, but the back-lit limbs of tall trees threw twisted shadows on the ground that, though ephemeral, seemed to bar the way. Vague shapes could be seen moving to and fro behind the lozenge windowpanes of oriel windows while, from deeper within, the cacophonous sound of new age rock emerged. The music, tempered by the tinkle of too-loud laughter, made an incongruous mix of sounds that echoed presumptuously down the staid tree-lined street

Half-expecting a pajama-clad Hugh Heffner to come to the door to greet them, the expectant trio hesitantly approached the front door. Finding the door slightly ajar, the newcomers pushed gently against the heavy oak door and found that it easily swung wide open, as if an unseen force had sensed their presence.

Suddenly, without warning, Jenny felt a strong cool breeze stir the summer evening air. Her harem pants billowed as her hair flew in a fury about her face. The wind became stronger, with a hint of turbulence, as if a significant change were in the offing. The fine hair on her arms stood on end and all over her body she felt a tingle. Glancing over at Rick and Marti, she saw that the breeze had no effect on them; in truth, they did not seem to notice anything unusual. For Jenny, however, it was a breath of fresh air meant exclusively for her, a zephyr that stirred her inner being. It was if a quiet voice was whispering in her ear:

"The time for denial is over. From this moment onward, be your true self!"

Maybe it was the drinks she had gulped down or maybe it was this mysterious Siren song that seemed to drift through the trees, but then and there, Jenny decided that she had not been true to herself for a long time. She had stifled her spontaneity, her curiosity about erotic feelings, and her own growing sensuality, all in the name of trying to be what someone else wanted.

Increasingly, Jenny found herself thinking less about her own failings and more about the men she had known, and whether any of them had ever really understood her. Wasn't there someone out there who would talk to her, confide in her, support her own quest for an identity? Wasn't there at least one man, somewhere, who could listen, not just talk, and respect her for her opinions, not just her face and body?

Sometimes, Jenny thought, she felt so lonely, so used, and so abused! And so many of her friends who were in relationships said the same thing. Married or single, she thought with increasing ardor, it's still the same: we're just maids for hire. No, worse! We're unpaid maids who double as the cook, cleaning-girl and laundry-wench. Maybe, if we're lucky, a quick fuck once in a while, but only when he felt like it!

"Well," Jenny thought, as the Dylan tune sprang to mind, "the times they are a changing, and so am I."

As Jenny and her companions ventured timidly into the front hallway, eyeing the richly papered walls and Australian hardwood parquet floors, they looked in vain among the swirl of costumed guests for the host or hostess. Strolling past the elegantly decorated rooms of the house, they were distracted by the richness and diversity of the people who ebbed and flowed around them in swirling eddies of color and costume. All were made up in some way, some with masks or painted faces, and others in costume, but all very colorful and imaginative. It was quite a menagerie.

By the hors d'oeuvres tray in the living room they caught a glimpse of a tall, ruddy-faced King Louis XIV, complete with a powdered wig and royal blue cloak dotted with tiny fleur-de-lis, offering a slice of chocolate cake to a full-bosomed Marie Antoinette, who, with high-coiffed blonde hair and a small beauty mark on her left cheek, devoured the petite gateau and smacked her painted lips lasciviously. King Louis, not to be outdone, stuck his tongue out to lick a few stray cake crumbs that had tumbled into the deep cleft of his wife's barely-contained breasts while Marie squealed and squirmed with delight.

Nearby, a middle-aged Robin Hood, clad in green tights with a jeweled dagger in his belt, was pouring himself a stiff Scotch. At his side stood Maid Marian, in matching Lincoln Green, with a tiny bow and a clutch of toy arrows slung over her shoulder. Marian's slender fingers furtively played across Robin's tightly packed buns, then dove down to his suddenly stiff package, just to let him know she was not letting him stray too far.

A leggy Parisian courtesan with bulls-eyes painted on her breasts, was teasing her dapper husband by rubbing her cute butt against another man's family jewels. Her spouse, the diminutive and decadent Toulouse Lautrec, smiled approvingly at his exotic wife while he sipped absinthe and drew suggestive words and phrases on the exposed flesh of a young nymphette.

As Jenny and her friends made their way to the back patio they passed more famous couples. Some were biblical, including Sampson and Delilah, Lot and his wife (she dressed in white, with a powdered face, and was carrying a large box of Morton's Salt) and the original First Couple, positioned, naturally enough, near the fruit bowl. The large bosomed blonde with strategically placed leaves, was feeding an apple to an angular lad clad in nothing but a snake around his neck and an over-sized fig leaf. Jenny noticed that he had a nice butt and a lovely long 'temptation to sin' that refused to be completey hidden under a mere fig leaf. Its shiny wet tip and several inches of hard pink flesh peeked out over the scant green covering.

Literary couples abounded as well. Naturally, there were Shakespearean characters from Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet and Macbeth, as well as Paris and Helen of Troy, and Venus and Adonis. Jenny, at first pleased by the prospect of an intriguing literary discussion, was soon startled as she took a second look into the shadows near the high box hedge. While Romeo rested on stone-carved garden seat, apparently contemplating the fair moon above, Juliet was kneeling under him, unlacing his cod-piece and ministering to his needs, so it seemed. While her fair hair blew in the gentle breeze, Juliet's head bobbed up and down in an increasingly rapid rhythm until Jenny heard a slight choking sound and then an explosion of giggles and laughter. 

"Ah ha," thought Jenny, "it's not just the breeze that's blowing this night." 

A striking couple drinking white wine by the pool was difficult to identify at first. The tall, handsome man was in some sort of Pilgrim outfit, with a black frock coat with stiff white lace at his collar, and the raven-haired beauty who shared his conversation wore a long black dress, adorned only by a brilliant red necklace... oh, it was not a necklace, Jenny realized; it was a delicately embroidered capital 'A'. 

"Ah, yes," Jenny thought: "The Scarlet Letter."

Easier to identify, among the many costumed guests, were a beautifully gowned Scarlett O'Hara flirting with a handsome Rhett Butler. The Southern Gentleman was down on his knees kissing her tiny foot and adjusting a silver shoe that peeked out from under the the folds of several satin petticoats that the pretty cocquette had gathered up in her hands. Very modest, Jenny thought, until Scarlett lifted her skirts even higher and Jenny spied a triangle of damp dark pussy hair showing through the open slash in the lady's frilled undies. 

A handsome Don Juan in Hell leered at a curvatious demon in black half-mask, with flaming red hair and silver nipple rings accenting her hard pink buttons. Nearby Don Quixote de la Mancha was mixing a cocktail for a shapely Dulcinea who wore (apparently) a medieval chain-mail bra. Speaking of medieval, a very pretty brunette dressed only in paint and seemingly chained in a chastity belt was waiting for her knight in shining 'amour' to return from the Crusades. 

Jenny noticed a very handsome young man dressed in a Greek toga and wearing dark stage make-up around his eyes stroking the bottom of an attractive, but much older, woman.

"Who are they supposed to be?" Jenny heard one young woman ask, in reference to the latter couple.

"Ed and Jo, I heard," came the response. "Supposed to be lovers out of some old Greek play, but she's old enough to be his mother, for God's sake."

Jenny found it hard to suppress a smile as she thought, "That's because she really is his mother, you dumb-fuck." Queen Jocasta, Jenny knew, was both a mother and a lover to her handsome son, "Ed", according to the ancient tale of 'Oedipus Rex', by Sophocles. "Pretty kinky stuff", Jenny thought to herself, "and it was written nearly 3500 years ago!"

Passing through the patio door, Jenny almost bumped into a thin blue-eyed blonde wearing a very short skirt and a french beret at a jaunty angle. Jenny immediately thought of Faye Dunaway's famous portrayal of the gangster moll, Bonnie. Sure enough, when the lithesome honey blonde lifted a leg to tease her famous bank-robber lover, Clyde Barrow, a hidden derringer appeared under her dark skirt, slit high on her silk-clad thigh. Clyde, with a thick cigar stuck in his mouth, sported a 30s era Tommy gun by his side.

And, speaking of cigars, there was a man in a blue business suit, white shirt and red tie, with a big Clinton-Gore button on his lapel. 

"Oh, it's Bill and Hill," thought Jenny, before she saw that his companion was not a toothy blonde with a butch haircut, but a somewhat chubby brunette wearing a dress with some rather obvious white stains near her collar, and a pair of knee-pads hanging out of her handbag. 

"Hello there, Monica," said Jenny as she passed the woman, unable to stifle a giggle.

As Jenny approached the outside bar, set up next to an Olympic-sized pool, she noticed the 'swimsuits optional' sign and saw the option was clearly not in favor of suitsuits. Since it was summer, with long hours of daylight, of a number of bikini-clad (and mostly unclad) hotties, who were apparently supposed to be water nymphs, cavorted and frolicked with a rather portly horned satyr, or each other, in lascivious poses. 

One naked young nymph was enjoying a few seconds of solitude as she leaned back at the shallow end of the pool, gently caressing her pussy as she watched the fun through half-closed eyes. Jenny was not quite shocked seeing so many tits and clits (as it were) but she was somewhat surprised, to say the least, to see that the lower regions of these nymphs were sporting only a tiny triangle or just a thin landing strip' of pussy hair. 

"I have to get out more," Jenny thought. "Is this what everyone is doing these days?"

As usual, there was a crowd at the bar and Jenny found herself pressed up against a muscular masked man wearing a flowing black shirt tucked into black trousers, with a Spanish-style hat and an ornate rapier held in place by a black silk sash. Although the entire top part of his face was obscured with the mask and hat, the lower part of his physiognomy featured a well-trimmed beard, a strong jaw, and very white straight teeth that were startling when he smiled. Jenny recognized him as the dashing swashbuckler, Zorro.

In his other hand Zorro held a long ebony cane with an ornately carved ivory head. He turned and smiled at Jenny just as he popped the cork of a bottle of Dom Perignon and poured a glassful of the contents into a champagne glass. He then passed the glass of bubbly to an attractive blonde senorita clad in black Spanish lace that revealed a beautiful bosom. Before she drank, however, Zorro lifted his cane in the air and raised a single eyebrow as if to ask a question. The blonde smiled and nodded, whereupon the man unscrewed the top of the cane and poured a small amount of white powder into the glass. The sexy senorita smiled and drained her glass with one gulp.

On her other side, Jenny found herself wedged in next to a large-bosomed and bejeweled Cleopatra who was fondling a rubber asp and whispering huskily to an plastic-armored Julius Caesar, who had just collected two gin tonics. Off to the side a tall man dressed as a full-uniformed London Bobbie, complete with nightstick and whistle, was busy placing handcuffs on high-booted mini-skirted street walker, who was dressed even more scantily than Jenny. With one deep breath, that girl was going to fall right out of her dress, and give everyone around a spectacular shot of her tantalizing titties.

Trying to get a drink at the bar, however, was not that easy, especially with the large number of people who were in front of her. As Jenny's lips finally began to curl in frustration, the masked man in black turned and caught her eye. As he was about to raise a freshly filled champagne glass to his lips, he stopped, and offered it to Jenny with a courtly bow.

"That's very kind of you," said Jenny, coyly.

Before she could say more, however, Rick and Marti whisked her off in another direction. As they continued their stroll, they met many more costumed guests, ranging from the mythical (Lancelot and Guinevere), to the modern (Tony and Maria from West Side Story). The guests also included the historical (Capt. John Smith, gripping his frontier rifle, with braided and beaded Pocahontas by his side) as well as the hysterical (Paris and Nicole Hilton).

A woman with dark hair and eye-popping jugs seemed to have three men as her dates, but Jenny couldn't figure out who she was supposed to be. It later turned out she was Elizabeth Taylor with Mike Todd, Eddie Fisher, and Richard Burton as her first three (out of many) husbands. Bare breasts, or perhaps boobs 'covered' with a bit of paint or some transparent netting, were quite common, and there were even some women who had already flashed a little shaved pussy, just to tease the men, it seemed. There were also angels and demons in various stages of dress and undress, drinking and dirty dancing.

Just as Rick was about to grab some drinks at the bar he ran into an old buddy by the edge of the pool. Then Marti started flirting with some guy in a kilt. Jenny couldn't tell if was supposed to be Macbeth, Rob Roy, or Braveheart, but whoever he was, he seemed to be carrying his dirk in the wrong place. Something was lifting the tartan in front, under the weight of his sporran, and Marti was making the most of the situation. 

For the moment, Jenny was alone in the motley mixture of strange couples. As her lips began to curl in frustration, Zorro turned and caught her eye. In an instant, he had whisked another champagne glass from the back of the bar and poured a full measure of the Dom Perignon for Jenny. Her frown dissolved into a dazzling smile as she thanked him and clinked his glass, but within seconds the masked man was being pulled off in another direction by his curvatious senorita and she lost sight of him.

As Jenny sipped her champagne (a different taste, but delicious... and the bubbles tickled her nose), she wondered what psychological motives caused a woman to dress up as the lusty temptress, Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile. Wasn't the serpent a symbol of sin and lust? And then there were the others... what made a woman want to shave her pussy, and then, show it off to whoever wanted to see? Did men really like that? Could Jenny see herself doing that? No, never... well... hmmmm.

What was it with these women... were they really so different from her? Was she in any way like the Cleopatra wanna-be, who dreamed of seducing powerful men? Or like the pretty Bonnie who caressed that half-hidden handgun as the ultimate phallic symbol? Was she perhaps like the costumed hooker, a horny housewife who harbored a hidden fantasy of being raped by a total stranger? Were these the dark dreams of her friends and neighbors? Jenny had never pondered such things before, but now, for the first time, she gave her thoughts free rein, and they were beginning to make her moist.

And the men, always displaying power, with their various weapons, their swords and daggers, rifles and rapiers, even cigars and night sticks... ye gods, was there anything they sported that was NOT a phallic symbol, she wondered? Just who were these people, these new friends of Rick and Marti, and what was this 'special party' all about? Did the women want to play a little grab-ass in a dark corner, or were they merely poseurs? More to the point, when the guys got a load of her seductive costume, Jenny wondered, would they get hard in their costumed pants and feel that primal urge to bend her over and have their way with her? The thought excited her.

Jenny knew men had always fantasized about her, with her sweet face, beautiful round ass, and firm breasts. What if they could get a glimpse of her private parts, with her pink lips puckered and pouting, ready to be flicked, licked, and much more? As more women passed by, clad only in body paint, Jenny wondered... could she be that brazen... to be, in effect, buck naked except for a few dabs of paint? As if reading her thoughts, the two women, a brunette with chains and a chastity belt painted on, and a blonde dressed all in black, her boobs totally bare, smiled at her and nodded as if to say, 'sure you could, baby... we've got it and you've got it, so why not flaunt it?'

And what if she did flaunt it and three or four men gathered around, she continued in her reverie, and asked her to do a belly dance, or perhaps even strip for them, bit by bit, until she was completely naked, with her breasts heaving, her nipples hard, and her legs spread open for all to see?

If she stripped down to nothing, dancing and gyrating in front of them, completely naked, would they all want her? And what if they all took out their... their weapons, for that's what they seemed like... nice big thick weapons made of flesh, with large heads, covered with pre-cum, and if they gathered around her in a circle; then would they want her to service all of them? How many could she take?

One nice wet one in her mouth, she figured, and two more thick ones in each hand, and then she could bend over, and take one with a large knobby head deep inside her, and one more, not quite as thick, slowly up her ass... oh my... such thoughts!

What was happening to her, wondered Jenny as a thrill shot through her body and made her shiver with anticipation. Was it possible that she had a repressed desire to be an exhibitionist herself? Was her shyness some sort of psychological defense against an innate need to show off her voluptuous body? Hmmmm, she thought, perhaps I'll find out more about myself than I will about others this evening. She felt a jolt of electricity surge through her lower regions, causing increased moisture in her already-wet panties, and the night was still very young.

To be continued...



The Swinging Door Ch. 03



Editor: WhiteWave48

Chapter 03 -- The temperature rises - the party swings

Interrupting Jenny's forbidden thoughts, a deep familiar voice called her name. As Jenny turned her head, she spotted Rick elbowing his way through the motley crowd with French Royalty in tow. Introductions were quickly exchanged before Rick wandered off with a pretty young thing who talked slow and moved fast. 

King Louis XIV and his wife, Marie Antoinette, were the hosts of the party and very gracious. Louis was all decked out in a blue satin outfit dotted with tiny gold fleur-de-lys, while Marie Antoinette, a stunning blue-eyed beauty with platinum hair (clearly a wig) in a French twist, was sheathed in a pure white 18th century ball gown that was cut to reveal a most exquisite bosom.

The Sun King, as it turned out, was Rick's boss at work, although not the company's Big Boss who was supposed to be around somewhere. As His Royal Majesty bent to kiss Jenny's hand -- no one had ever done THAT before -- Her Majesty leaned over to give Jenny a kiss on both cheeks, Froggy style. In the process, however, the Queen's extremely low-cut bodice let loose its rambunctious twins.

"Oops," said Jenny, pointing to the Queen's unloosed lovelies.

"Oh, you naughty girls," quipped Marie Antoinette as she noticed her 'au naturel' state. "They've been coming up for air all night," said Marie with a laugh, as she casually popped her beauties back into place then turned to greet another guest.

Jenny, despite her initial qualms, began to feel more comfortable with the 'laissez-faire' spirit of the evening and soon found that she was really enjoying herself. Jenny could tell from the foreign accents -- American, English, French, Slavic, German, and even Scottish - that this was an international crowd, not just Aussies. It was also a very handsome crowd. The men were of all ages, but uniformly good-looking and in shape. The women were younger, for the most part, but several were older and, as the expression goes, 'well-preserved'.

Marie Antoinette was an attentive hostess, gently leading Jenny by the arm and introducing her to one group or another, each involved in very interesting conversations. Charming too, thought Jenny, that Marie sought to preserve the mystery of the evening by always referring to each guest by the name of the character they were impersonating.

Jenny was introduced to a lovely couple -- "Anna", who carried a stuffed bear with a toy train in its paw, and "the Count".

"So nice to meet you," cooed Jenny. "Your dress is lovely Anna, and you, Count Vronsky, are very handsome in your Guards uniform." 

The couple smiled, clearly gratified that someone had finally recognized them as the famous and tragic literary couple from Tolstoy's "Anna Karenina".

Jenny knew that there were no true singles at the party -- even Jenny herself was with Rick and Marti -- but there were no strict rules about who could come with whom (no pun intended) nor was there any limit to how many people were to be represented in the phrase 'famous lovers'. Most people were couples, it seemed, but there were certainly some trios and even a quartet or two. Gender reversal was also one of the surprises.

The Never-Land group, for example, included a youthful Peter -- naturally, since Peter Pan never grew up -- while Tinkerbelle was likely pushing 40 but with no qualms about showing off her considerable charms in a very short skirt with a tight sequined top that glittered with pixie dust. The third member of their group was a rather slutty young Wendy Darling, nearly popping out of a very low cut top matched with a white micro-mini skirt. Rounding out the quartet was a gender-reversed Captain Hook who called herself Captain Hooker but did not have a hook anywhere on her hot little body, at least not anyplace clearly visible.

"Tink" was pretty and pleasant, but perhaps, as befits a fairy, she was not a MENSA candidate. Due to an acquaintance with literature that rarely ventured beyond 'TV Guide', Tink had a hard time figuring out who the other guests were supposed to be. She was, for example, quite surprised to find that the toga-clad man who called himself Julius, was NOT John Belushi's "Bluto" from the film 'Animal House'. 

"If only her brains were in her tits," thought Jenny, "she'd be a genius."

Of course, poor Tinkerbelle was not the only one having trouble identifying the guests. Jenny could hardly contain herself when she heard one man ask his wife if the guy they had been talking to, in the tights and a ruffled collar, was supposed to be Humpty Dumpty. 

"No dear," explained his wife patiently, "his name is Hamlet... not Omelet."

A younger version of Hugh Heffner was surrounded by three scantily-clad Playboy bunnies, while the King -- Elvis, not Louis -- belted out a few bars of 'Blue Suede Shoes' as he strolled through the crowd, accompanied by his own gaggle of winsome young women. Cinderella was dancing with Prince Charming while Romeo clicked his champagne glass with an exquisitely gowned Juliet. 

In some cases two women came together as 'famous lovers' but Jenny was not sure if they were just friends or really lovers. Could it be? Jenny thought one same-sex couple looked like Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie, while a Lindsay Lohan look-alike accompanied a dead-ringer for Hillary Swank. Yet another... oh, there were too many faces, and Jenny was losing track of who went with whom.

Jenny put her hand to her head. She had not been counting how many glasses she had downed of that punch bowl drink promoted as a 'Magic Potion'. Magic, or just good vodka, it tasted great and went down like water, but it was putting Jenny in a state of mind that was getting a little dangerous. But the party was so much fun, she decided. Getting a little buzz on was no big deal.

During a lull in a conversation with Marti, the buxom Monica Lewinsky, and Nordic-looking Pussy Galore, Jenny excused herself to go to the powder room, but when she tried the door she found it locked. Knowing there would be several more bathrooms in a house like this Jenny took off in search of another loo, but as she began poking around she noticed several of the party-goers had become rather forward, to say the least, with other people's spouses, or dates. 

Little Bo Peep, complete with bows on her pig tails and a white ruffled dress, managed to bend over to pick up her fallen shepherd's crook right in front of Elvis and, since her bottom was bare, it was clear that she had lost more than her sheep that evening. Likewise, lovely Guinevere was stroking the chest of a muscular Las Vegas gangster -- or pimp, since they dressed much the same -- while her knight in shining armor was giving mouth-to-mouth to a Vegas showgirl whose playful fingers were walking their way down to Lancelot's tilting lance.

Moving on, Jenny noticed Peter Pan deep in conversation with the nearly naked Eve, while Tinkerbelle had grabbed young Harry Potter -- not quite as young as the character he portrayed, but not more than a few years out of school -- and was leading him down a darkened hallway. Jenny hesitated, then followed them at a distance. She thought they would duck into an empty room, or perhaps escape into the garden, but at the end of the hallway the couple slipped into a large party room that was filled to over-flow with half-drunk revelers and a completely smashed band.

Since the door was open a crack, Jenny peeked in. She blinked, and looked again. There, in a room full of cheering guys, costumed women of all ages lined up to take the stage -- a raised platform -- do a little dance and give their best imitation of 'American Idol'. As Jenny watched, some women went up alone and others were in a group. One called up her boyfriend -- or somebody's boyfriend -- but all seemed drunk out of their minds. The singing, if you could call it that, was awful and the accompaniment was ragged, but the men -- as well as the women who had returned to the audience -- cheered madly for whoever was on stage, and the performers ate it up like candy.

Jenny slipped inside and took up a position in a dark corner, then looked around to see if Rick and Marti, or perhaps Zorro and the Senorita were in the crowd, but it was hard to spot anyone in that crowd. Then, she did see him -- Rick -- yes, she was sure that was him with a group of guys applauding the show, but he had ditched his costume. Jenny was about to wave to Rick when the crowd surged and she lost sight of him. Looking back toward the stage, Jenny saw why the audience was getting psyched up.

The act on stage featured a perky-titted girl in a nautical uniform (was she the captain of the Love Boat?) doing a bump and grind with a busty Indian Princess while a hard-bodied Graduate in cap and gown, a voluptuous Fairy -- the old-fashioned kind -- and a teasing Tool-girl all pranced and danced to the beat of the music. Jenny was amazed, but also -- as she took a closer look at the nether regions of the performers -- a bit perplexed. She involuntarily glanced downward at her own pussy, and wondered... was she the only one at this party who didn't have a clean shave?

A yell from the crowd brought Jenny's attention back to the stage where the current performers proved to be the most daring -- or the most drunk -- so far, because when someone called out "show us your ass" or "tits and clits", the girls readily complied, initially playing peek-a-boo with their barely-covered boobs and booties, then pulling each others pants down, and finally flinging tops, panties and the rest of their clothing into the raucous cheering crowd. Soon, some large denomination folding money was being thrown onto the stage and the obliging ladies bent over each bill, giving the men all they wanted in terms of clits and tits, each performer attempting to out-do the next in erotic poses and gestures.

Before long the Indian Princess was licking and sucking the Navy girl from tip to toe and stem to stern until her nautical neighbor returned the favor by dropping to her knees and massaging the Princess's private parts until the buckskin beauty groaned, bucked her hips and gushed a sweet load of hot cum from her cunt, right up there on the stage. Soon, gals in the audience were stripping down to their underwear or just their shoes and imitating the erotic action on the stage with whoever was standing next to them, male or female. Right before her very eyes, Jenny realized, the room was turning into an orgy and Jenny, rather than being shocked, found her own pussy getting hotter and wetter by the minute.

Jenny now realized that Tink and Harry had found the next best thing to a completely private room, that is, a room that was so sexually charged that no one gave a flying fig about who was hooking up with whom, or why. And speaking of that amorous couple, Jenny saw that they were, in fact, moving up to the stage to take the place of the nearly naked performers who had now moved down into the audience.

Somebody shoved a drink into Jenny's hand, then moved on. Jenny drank deeply and turned toward the stage, transfixed and excited. 

Tink took the stage with a bound and began to gyrate like a bitch in heat. Her enormous boobs shook and shimmied until, as if by their own power, they popped out of her skimpy top and began to swing to and fro, in counter-point to Tink's swaying hips, as the tempo of Tink's primitive dance became more and more frantic. 

With a flick of her wrist Tink beckoned young Harry to share the stage and he needed no more encouragement. As he took the stage, the crowd began a harsh rhythmic chant in tune with the band's tribal beat, clapping and calling out, "Fuck her tits, fuck her tits" faster and louder each time.

Tink smiled, licked her lips, and tore off young Harry's pants. She pushed him down to the stage floor and stood directly over his erect pulsating prick. As he lay on the stage, his hard cock pointing straight up, Tink sank to her knees and took his long, thick fuck-pole into her hungry mouth. The sexy pixie expertly moved her pouty lips up and down his straining shaft, all the while brushing her monster tits over his thighs and up against his throbbing balls, driving Harry near the brink of ecstasy, then bringing him back down when he got too close to blowing his load.

Jiggling her massive boobs, Tink teased him unmercifully as she smeared his pre-cum over her wide brown nipples, then moved so her heavy hooters swayed over and into his open mouth, making him lick his own cum, until finally Harry yelled out. 

"No more, you fucking witch, bitch, or whatever you are -- I have to shoot my wad."

The audience cheered and whistled. 

"Tit-fuck, tit-fuck!" they yelled in encouragement.

"You hear what they want, my young coxswain?" squealed Tink. "They want the same thing I do, and I want a hot load of gooey stud-spunk all over my pixie titties." 

That said, she got right down to business. Squeezing her huge tits together on either side of Harry's helpless prick, the pixie pumped her double D knockers up and down on him, licking the sensitive underside at the tip of his prick on the upswing and smacking her cum-covered lips on the downswing. In less than a minute, her partner's face went red, his hips bucked spastically and his neck muscles twitched as he let loose with a huge spurt of spunk and a loud curse. 

"Hot-damn, mother-fuck, oh baby -- arghhhh."

"That's what I want, baby," crooned Tink as young Harry shot stream after stream of hot creamy goo onto her heaving bosom. 

He was a young stud, after all, and as massive as her tits were, the bewitched boy covered both of those bobbing beauties with thick loads of creamy spunk, so much that Tink's tits turned totally white.

A raucous cheer rose up from the crowd as Tink stood up and lifted her jizz-covered tits up for all to see, at least all of those that were looking, since by this time there were more cocks being licked and sucked, and more tits being flicked and fucked, all over the room, and to say the least, there was 'more to cum'.

It was hot, but too hot, and too much for Jenny to absorb all at once. With her head throbbing, she bolted outside and leaned against the corridor wall, gathering her wits and trying to clear her foggy head. Just what kind of party was this? And what was Rick doing in that room with Marti nowhere in sight? And most of all, why had they insisted that she, Jenny, come to this party? They hadn't been with her since they arrived at the party and, from what Jenny could see, they needed her along like a cow needs an extra tit. It was all too much and to top it all off now, Jenny really, like, fucking really, needed to answer nature's call.

When she again found the line to the bathroom to be far too long for the urgent condition her bladder was in, she became desperate. Eyeing a sign on a grand staircase that read 'No Admittance' Jenny took a quick look to her right and left and saw no one.  

"I know," she thought to herself, "there's got to be a loo or two upstairs and even if it's officially off limits, it's either that, or I piss on their hardwood floor and I think I know which one they would prefer."

At the top of the stairs, Jenny stopped and hesitated. Left or right? She tentatively pushed open a nearby door and walked into a nearly dark room. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realized she had entered the home's master bedroom. 

"Success," Jenny thought as she made straight for the master bathroom and finally found relief. As she got up and began to wash, however, Jenny felt a little light-headed. 

"OK, time out" she thought, "I'm not used to all this." 

Jenny thought she might lie down for just a bit. The bed was very comfortable and the only light was from the moon shining in the window. If she lay there and closed her eyes for just a minute or two, Jenny thought, she would be just fine.....

Jenny's eyes popped wide open. What was that noise? 

Without thinking, she ducked into the double-door closet on the far side of the bed and held her breath. Within seconds, the outside bedroom door opened and Jenny heard a couple come stumbling in, giggling and shushing each other, then quickly closing the door behind them. Jenny squinted through a crack in the doors to take a peek. It was the masked Zorro, who was quite a dashing figure, and a woman, but... it wasn't the sexy Senorita who was with him. It was... oh my gosh... Marti! What were these two up to?

They were both obviously a bit high, but not so out of it that they didn't know what they wanted. Marti turned on a bedside lamp and flopped down on the love-seat at the foot of the bed, complaining that her feet hurt as she slipped out of her shoes. As Zorro approached, Marti's face was level with his crotch and that was all it took. With a low animal growl, Marti tugged Zorro's tights to his knees and pushed her face into his swollen manhood, licking it and stroking it on her flushed cheek.

Jenny was terrified they might realize she was there, but couldn't tear her self away from the erotic sight. What's more, she felt her own moisture begin to build under her thin thong, and a craving she had not felt for a long time overtook her. What she really wanted she couldn't have, but she could see it, just out of her reach. 

At first she just reached down to play with herself a little, gently rubbing her clit on the outside of her harem pants, but then as the couple kept kissing and groping each other, Jenny had to slip off her pants and thong and finger-fuck her pussy hard, with her legs spread open.

Marti slipped out of her outfit and turned on her back so that she rested on the sofa, but her mouth was directly under the masked man's large swollen cock. To this she gave her full attention as she sucked and licked slowly up one side and then the other. 

Zorro moaned, "Take it all in your mouth, Marti... your hubby brags that you give the best blowjobs under the Southern Cross."

Marti said nothing but Jenny could hear a long sucking sound and in the dim light, she could make out Marti's wide mouth working hard to suck every bit of cum out of Zorro's enormous cock. Suddenly, Marti yelped that she could hold it no longer and had to pee right then.

"Be right back," she hissed, then disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Zorro and his throbbing tumescence slumped against the wall, breathing hard. 

When Jenny saw that his eyes were still closed, she felt a burning inside her and a buzzing in her ears. Again, she seemed to hear a voice inside her head. It was if she felt power flow into her. 

She silently moved out of the closet, over to the love-seat and into the same position as Marti had taken. Slowly moving her silky tongue over Zorro's bulging manhood, Jenny brushed aside her hair to lick more easily the side of Zorro's thick shaft all the way down and all the way up again, savoring the taste and smell of his large throbbing prick and the thick stream of pre-cum that leaked out. It had been a long time since Jenny had worked her magic on a man who appreciated her talented tongue, but no matter -- like riding a bicycle, giving good head was something that, once learned, a girl never forgot.

Jenny loved the taste and feel of a thick, hard cock and this cock was a treat for her aching body, she thought, as she licked the oozing wetness from the tip of Zorro's cock and massaged his balls, smearing some of his silver pre-cum on her face, while still stroking him with her hand. It was surprising how good he tasted, and how the hot cum on her face made her cheeks flush with excitement. It was wonderful!

She so loved this marvelous sensation of a strange man's throbbing cock oozing pre-cum on her face that her pussy was now too hot to ignore -- she had to finger-fuck herself with two fingers while with her other hand she stroked the shaft of that monster prick and sucked it deep and hard. The more she sucked, the more the throbbing head pulsed out fresh pre-cum that covered her face and tits, causing her make-up to smear and bringing her cunt near the point of no return. 




The Swinging Door Ch. 03



Zorro moaned, stroked her hair and fucked her pretty mouth deep as the two drifted on a cloud of naked lust. Just as he was about to explode into her mouth, Jenny heard the faint sound of the toilet being flushed in the bathroom.

Softly but quickly, Jenny took the swollen cock from her mouth, slipped off the love-seat and retreated into the closet again, licking her lips as she went. Jenny saw Marti assume her previous position and take Zorro in her mouth only seconds after Jenny had stopped her own hard sucking. Marti immediately began to take up where she had left off -- although actually, it was where Jenny had left off -- but Zorro apparently didn't notice the interruption.

"Give me that hot jizz, baby," Marti moaned. "Soak me with sperm, on my tongue, in my mouth and on my tits." 

In less than a minute, Marti got her wish as Jenny saw Zorro grimace, then shoot his load into Marti's open mouth, all over her face, and down her long slim neck. Happy, horny Marti sucked him even more and pumped his cock hard for every last bit of spunk, but it seemed there might never be a last bit. Zorro was a veritable geyser, shooting again and again in a high arc that still never missed its intended target so that within seconds Marti's smiling face was soaked in streams of cum while her tongue still worked to get more cum into her hungry mouth.

Jenny fucked her hot creamy cunt hard now as she watched Marti slurp Zorro's hot cum, gulp, wipe her face off and then lick her fingers clean. Finally, that pretty pussy of Jenny's could take no more, and, stifling her moans, Jenny bucked her hips into an imaginary cock and shot her own heavy load of cunt cream down her legs and onto the closet floor. Quivering in lust and exhaustion, she lay on the floor, breathing hard.

"Whoa, that was a huge load, baby," Marti exclaimed breathlessly, unaware that her words could apply to more than just one cum-spent soul. 

Zorro, exhausted, did not respond. 

In a few more minutes, the two miscreants put their costumes on again and crept back down to the party. Apparently, neither one of them realized that Zorro had just gotten a secret double blow job. 



The Swinging Door Ch. 04



Editor: WhiteWave48

As the sound of the secret lovers' footsteps faded, Jenny emerged from the closet, and went directly into the bathroom to clean up. A few minutes later, she walked back into the bedroom, turned on the bedside lamp, sat down on the bed and began to gather her wits about her. 

"Marti has just cheated on her husband, Rick," Jenny murmured to herself, "right in front of my eyes, no less." Jenny shook her head as if that would clear her fuzzy thoughts. "Of course," Jenny thought with a grimace, "I suppose, technically speaking, I've just cheated on my husband too." She got up and began to pace the room. "So, neither one of us is perfect," she mumbled to herself, as if thinking out loud would help, "but Marti and Rick - they are the ones who wanted to go to this party and they dragged me into it. What in the world is going on here?"

First the heavy kissing and petting downstairs, then the strip tease girls in the ballroom, (perhaps appropriately named, considering what was going on in there) and now Marti sneaking upstairs to give a quick, sloppy blow job to the handsome, mysterious Zorro. It was getting to be too much. Suddenly, Jenny felt something in her lower regions, looked down and saw that her panties had soaked through with her own honey as a result of that last overpowering orgasm. 

"My God," Jenny thought, "how can I go downstairs looking like some sort of trollop?" 

People would notice wet panties, you would think, and what if it gets back to Guy? He'd have a fit, Jenny knew, on that skimpy outfit alone, and if he knew her panties had gotten soaked at this kind of party, and how they got soaked, he would do more than have a fit, he would throw her out of the house, and then what would she do?

Maybe she could borrow an outfit from the closet, change her clothes and just sneak out. Not many people had seen her and with the heavy make-up she had on, to say nothing of this ridiculous outfit that no one would imagine her in. Jenny thought she had recognized a few people, but with the costumes and masks she couldn't be sure, so - it was probably the same in terms of people recognizing her. Of course, Rick and Marti knew, but... ho, ho, Jenny had something on Marti now, so Marti could certainly be persuaded to say whatever Jenny wanted if Guy started asking questions. 

"That's the plan," she thought, as she started to feel much better. Now, she just had to borrow a little something from the closet, (she could bring it back tomorrow) and her problem would be solved. 

The closet, the answer to Jenny's quandary, turned out to be quite interesting now that Jenny did not have to hide in it. As she re-entered the walk-in Jenny was astounded at the variety of men's and women's outfits. Row upon row of jeweled ball gowns, cocktail dresses of all colors and lengths, leisure wear, tennis outfits, nighties... mmmm... very sexy stuff, Jenny thought.... Merry Widow outfits, garter belts, crotchless undies, long silky things... and shoes... my god - Manolo Blahnicks even. It was like Imelda Marcos times ten! 

And the men's side... formal wear, blue suits, gray suits, riding jackets, shoes, boots, sneakers, sandals, sweaters... and even costumes. Jenny moved a few items on the rack to the side, looking for something presentable but not expensive, and there it was - a gossamer-thin white scarf. Of course, she thought, as she picked it up and wound it around her neck and over her face. Perfect, she thought smugly, it's not a scarf, it's an Arabian veil - every Genie needs one. 

Her heartbeat began to slow and she began to think more logically. The wet spot on her panties was almost dry already and with only her eyes showing above the veil, who would notice? Perhaps she could stay a little longer after all. Besides, it would be interesting - wait, what was that? Jenny heard a loud click and felt a cool breeze from somewhere behind the formal suits. Her heart skipped a beat and her nipples hardened in fear - then she saw a low door had sprung open toward the back of the closet, and beyond, a dark passageway. 

"My God, "Jenny thought, "a real live secret passage!"

Jenny stooped down and pushed herself through the narrow doorway, treading carefully and keeping one hand on the right side of the narrow passage to avoid stumbling in the dark. Gradually, as her eyes adjusted, she saw that there were small pinpoints of light along the carpeted floor, just enough to light the way down the corridor. Following the lights for a short distance, Jenny came to a dead end - no, it was just a left-hand turn, then a short distance to another door. Jenny stopped outside the door, held her breath, and listened. There were faint sounds, as if people talking, but was it from this room, or just sounds wafting up from another portion of the house? Slowly, Jenny turned the door handle and opened the door just a crack. Another room, small, dark, except for a reflection of light from the opposite wall, over the mantle of a huge fireplace. 

Reluctant to open the door wider, in case the room was occupied, Jenny pressed her face to the thin crack in the door and tried to focus on the light source on the other end of the room. As her eyes adjusted, she slowly came to the realization that what looked like a mirror had to be more - it had to be, must be, a two-way mirror, the kind cops and spooks used to spy on people in an adjoining room without them knowing. As she started to open the door wider, suddenly, she saw it - a shadow passed across the light and Jenny saw the back of a head. There was someone in the room, and he, or she, was looking at the two-way mirror, and spying on someone in the next room. 

He must be the 'big boss', Jenny realized, the guy who owned this fabulous house and who had arranged this secret passage so as to provide a stealthy view of a next-door bedroom where people were encouraged to engage in wild sex. It was a Peeping Tom's Paradise. Or, in her case, Jenny thought with a chuckle, perhaps a Peeping Tommie. 

As her eyes moved to the opposite wall, Jenny saw the mirror suddenly light up, as if someone in the room opposite the mirror had turned on the light. As a female figure moved into view, Jenny felt the quickening of her pulse as she anticipated another hot scene. Pressing her face close to the crack in the door, Jenny instantly realized that she would not be disappointed. There, beyond the mirror, lying on a queen-size bed, with her head resting on a long golden cushion, was a pretty redhead - someone Jenny had seen downstairs dressed in costume - but she couldn't quite place who it was. 

The woman was nearly naked, except for black stockings and high-heel shoes, and here she was - lying in bed, with her legs wide open, and her fingers lightly playing over her mons venus. Jenny's mouth went dry as the woman suddenly moved up on all fours and swung her butt around so that it was right in front of Jenny's line of sight, with her head looking over her shoulder. Yes, the pretty thing was looking at her shaved cunt in the mirror, so she could see how hot she looked when she finger-fucked herself. It was as if the little slut was putting on a show, just for Jenny. 

Slender fingers longing for pleasure reached under the woman's long legs and moved over that swollen clit in quick circular motions before a single finger plunged deep into her pussy. In and out, first one, then two, and finally three fingers frantically stroked the wetness of the redhead's inner sanctum, while her throat began to emit low groans of excitement and pleasure. It seemed like she was ready to gush but then - she rolled over, and spread her legs wide, and it was obvious she was not alone. 

Unable to move forward, and unwilling to go back, Jenny held her breath as a new and more exciting scene began to unfold before her. Now the redhead was kneeling on front of her boyfriend - or perhaps someone else's boyfriend - whose back was to the mirror. It was hard to see, but then the couple moved away a distance, to the bed, and the girl began unbuttoning the man's trousers. 

Jenny's breath got short and her heart began to pound. Oh, this girl was no novice; she got this guy rock hard in record time, and what a nice cock that stud had, long and stiff, curving slightly upward toward the girl's open mouth with the blue veins in his shaft bulging in anticipation of a sweet tantalizing tongue. The girl began to suck in earnest now and used her saliva to keep the cock wet, then pulled away to blow lightly on the head, leaving a thin strand of pre-cum dangling as a bridge between her sensuous open mouth and the wagging cock. 

The man groaned and pushed the girl's head down for more and she happily obliged, her sensuous open mouth moving ever farther downward on his pulsating shaft all the way to the base, which was shaved clean, as her saliva dripped down to his savory pink cum-sac. 

Jenny's chest began to heave with excitement. It was a live porn show and she was part of the audience. Jenny pushed her hand down under her harem pants and felt the moistness. Oh yes, she was wet again. Jenny moved her hand lower and felt her fun button -- oh fuck yes -- her clit was swollen and throbbing like never before. But this time, she was smart. She tugged on her bottoms and slid them down to her knees before fingering her soaking wet pussy. 

"Not making that mistake again," she thought, plunging her fingers in deeper as she watched the red-head swallow that long thick cock.

Then, again, a pang of conscience. Wasn't this wrong? This was the second time this very night that she had been a peeping Tom -- or Tommie -- whatever they called the women. More than just wrong, wasn't it perverted? At least a little bit? And, what if whoever was in the room heard her, especially the way her breathing was now? 

"Oh... rat-fuck," she thought, banishing her conscience and rising up slowly to peer through the peep-holes once again. Jenny was aroused again, and she was not going to miss the show. 

"I'm in this up to my eyeballs, so I might as well keep going," she thought, trying her best to breath slowly so as not to make a sound. Now the couple was on the bed, the girl's compact breasts rising and falling with each breath, her nipples taut and her lips puffy and wet. 

Now the man was fucking the girl's pouty mouth harder, his pre-cum dripping down her lower lip, onto her chin and then his bent shaft. Oh, this was so fucking hot, Jenny thought, as her hand sought out her pussy once again, probing deeper, in and out, keeping time with the cock that fucked that O-shaped mouth in front of her. The redhead sucked his long curvy cock even faster now, her head bobbing up and down and suddenly, without warning, the man's head went back, then snapped forward as he let out a terrible groan and shot a huge load of white spunk into the redhead's perky little mouth. Too much - way too much for her mouth. 

She gagged, but wouldn't stop sucking. Down on that big cock she went again, as yet another load of cock spunk shot out of that quivering prick, with the creamy load spilling over the girl's parted white teeth and panting tongue, filling the inside of her mouth to overflow so that the excess spunk leaked out and trickled down the left side of her chin like molten white lava. 

The pretty redhead laughed, gulped down the sticky sperm and licked the dripping cum from her lips. What a sight. He laughed too, and then Jenny heard it clearly - he had not spoken a word, but now, the laugh. She knew that laugh, she knew that voice very well. No, she thought, it couldn't be - impossible, of all people - then he turned toward what he must have thought was the mirror, and smiled as he ran his fingers through his tossled hair. The curly salt and pepper hair Jenny knew so well - because she had fingered it herself so often over the years - it was Guy!

Jenny's mouth dropped open and her breathing almost stopped. There, on the other side of the two-way mirror, was... she could hardly believe her eyes - her husband, Guy! That timid, embarrassed, worn-out, "I'm too tired tonight", poor excuse of a lover - that Guy - and there he stood, with a stupid shit-eating grin on his face, with globs of cum still dripping from his shriveling dick, smiling down at that cum-sucking bitch redhead, that little cunt, who was still licking up the leftover cum on her hands and tits from the slutty blowjob she had just given - that whore - and smacking her lips, like she was licking icing from a cupcake. And now Guy was sinking to his knees to lick that slut's dripping cunt! But, he never did that to his own wife - Jenny stared in shock and amazement. This was just too fucking much!

Jenny shut her eyes, put her hand to her chest, felt her heart beating wildly. Too much, all too much. All of a sudden, she felt warm, very warm. She put her hand to her head, and then... everything started to spin. Out, back... she had to get out... she turned around, lurched, began to run back in the direction she came from, her eyes red with tears, her breath ragged. She hit something, bumped her head, then her arm, no matter... just get back... then she saw the light from the walk-in closet and ran toward it, then out to the master bedroom. She heard the secret passage door click shut behind her as she stumbled and tumbled in the darkness toward the bed... fell on top of it and simply sobbed into the pillow.

It wasn't long before her breathing became regular again and she felt a calmness returning. There was a noise outside in the hallway, a commotion - voices, laughter, giggling, someone shushing someone, the other person laughing even louder. They were all female voices, and they were passing right outside the room. Jenny got up, moved quickly to the door, opened it just a crack, and there, moving down the hallway to her right were - oh, there must have been at least a dozen of the party-goers, all women, all still in costume, and all pretty tipsy. Their faces gleamed with excitement and anticipation. They were on their way to something that was just for girls, it seemed, and something that was secret and special.

Jenny stepped out to the hall, curious, and perhaps a little excited herself. 

"Where are you going," she asked a thin babydoll-clad blonde. 

The blue-eyed waif looked at Jenny and put her finger to her lips. 

"Shhhh, you can come along, but don't tell - we've been bad girls and we're going to Hell."

Swept along with the crowd, like a gaggle of geese, Jenny found herself once more through an open door and thrust into a dark passageway, then brought up abruptly, as the crowd merged into single file and then, one by one, the girls in front of Jenny disappeared. In a moment, Jenny saw why - the line led to a giant chute - a slide that went down, around, and into an inky darkness. 

Jenny hesitated, then heard a voice behind her. 

"Go ahead, do it." 

She felt a shove. Down Jenny went, feet in front, butt slammed against the slippery surface, with nothing to hold onto and no idea where she was going. Then it was down, down, down and around, twirling, swirling, until - whump, a soft landing on something firm but fluffy, at the entrance to a cavernous, well-lit room. Jenny looked up to find herself face to face with a petite blonde in a red bustier, with little red horns on her head and a tail growing out of her butt. 

"Let's go, honeybunch," chirped the perky little devil as she helped Jenny to her feet, "those cock-suckers behind you will knock your ass into next week if you don't move it." 

"Thank you, I think," murmured Jenny as she looked over her companion with a combination of shock and surprise.

"You're... um... oh, where the fuck did I put that?" mumbled the little demon, pulling scraps of paper out of a concealed pocket. Finally, she found something written on the back on an envelope. 

"Honest to God, I think I'm losing my fucking mind sometimes." She was peering at the writing. "Ah, here it is. You're Jenny, and allow me to welcome you to the Underworld."

Jenny stared. "The Underworld? Oh, sure - but, how do you know my name?"

"We know more than you think," replied the demon with a sly smile, "but I'll explain it all later." The demon took Jenny by the arm and propelled her forward. "Name's Cynthia, but you can just call me Cyn."

Jenny was about to comment, but when she looked around, she became so engrossed in what she saw that she could hardly speak. In the middle of the great room was a large dance floor, filled with guys and gals dancing, drinking, pawing, petting and partying, while off to the side were row upon row of rooms, all with glass fronts, some dark, others lit up well enough so that Jenny could see the people inside, but hard to tell what they were doing. How weird.

"If this is Hell," Jenny began, thinking she'd play along with the game, "how come there's no fire and brimstone, no guys with pitchforks, and..."

"Oh, please," Cyn said, rolling her eyes, "do you goody-goody types still fall for that shit? Pitchforks?? You think we're fucking farmers?" 

"Ok, never mind, but, speaking of fucking," retorted Jenny, gesturing to the couples dirty dancing in the middle of the big room. "I see all these half-clad hotties getting it on with half-naked, big-dick studs - and nobody looks like they're being punished or tortured. So how can this be Hell?"

"Hello! Did you ever take an 'Admin' course?" queried Cyn, shaking her head in disgust at such naiveté. "This is Level One," explained Cyn, with elaborate patience, "the Temptation Division. My people have nothing to do with Level 7 - which, believe me, you don't want to." 

But before Cyn could finish her answer, Jenny stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed the demon's arm, pointing to one of the rooms fronted all in glass, where a couple that Jenny knew very well was sitting on a bed.

"That's Jeff and Kimmie, our neighbors, and they're the goody-goody types you like to make fun of. She volunteers at the homeless shelter and he counsels runaway teens. They're wonderful people and a very happy couple. What are they doing here?"

"They're not 'here' at all," responded Cyn airily, "they're right in their own home." Cyn turned to Jenny and gave her one of those know-it-all smiles. "If we step into the room, bingo - in a flash we are transported to wherever they are, but they can't see us, and they don't even know we are there."

Jenny could not believe her eyes.

"It's very high-tech," continued Cyn, with a note of pride in her voice. "We've got lots of talent down here, you know, including a shit-load of those Hollywood pricks and even a couple of NASA engineers, all of them working on this for years. No more following people around, waiting for the right moment to tempt them and all that nonsense. Now-a-days, we just pick our subjects, set the coordinates to a juicy spot, say - the computer nook, poolside, or laundry room, and bingo, our sensors pick up forbidden thoughts."

"Laundry room?" Jenny said, unable to contain her surprise.

"You'd be surprised," laughed Cyn, "but, hey, see that light blinking on top of this room? That means the sensors have picked up some serious lust vibes. Come on, follow me into the room. They can't see or hear us - unless we want them to - and I'll show you how we can help out your friends here without them suspecting a thing." 

As Jenny followed Cyn into the room, the puzzled harem-girl felt like this was an out-of-body experience. While Cyn sauntered over to the photo-littered far wall and made some lascivious motions with her tongue and body as if to foreshadow what was sure to come, Jenny simply sat down on the carpet a few feet away from where Jeff and Kimmie were talking. It was just like Cyn said, the visitors from Hell were right there in the room with the married couple, but Jenny and Cyn were like ghosts - no one noticed them at all. 




The Swinging Door Ch. 04



"They can't even hear us unless we go right up to them and speak into their ear," explained Cyn, "and then, it's like a thought that just popped into their heads; something they thought of themselves. It's way cool."

"But, wait," protested Jenny, trying to think this thing through, "what about free will and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah," answered Cyn, "that's still the rule, but we don't make anybody do anything they don't want to - we just gently make suggestions, that is we lead them into temptation - and if they like where they're going, yeah baby, we've got them. If they don't want to go, we're shit out of luck and have to try again another day."

"What's the big deal here anyway?" protested Jenny. "Jeff and Kimmie are married. So what if they want to have a nooner in their own..." Jenny stopped in mid-sentence when she heard what Kimmie was saying. 

"Jeff, remember what we talked about the last time we made love? About how I can wiggle my ass and jiggle my titties and get a guy's attention, and how I'd like to have you watch me do a guy? Remember how that got your cock super hard and my pussy soaking wet?"

"O, Fucko the Monkey!" trilled Cyn, "I got them to start thinking of that. That was all me." 

Jeff just licked his lips and nodded as Kimmie whispered in his ear. "Yeah, honey, well the guy from the shelter - the one who's helping clean out the garage - I told him to come in here to help me move some stuff because your back hurts. That ok with you?" 

Jeff hesitated, but Cyn jumped right in, cupping her hand and whispering in his ear.

"Hey, Jeffrey old boy, you can call it off, but if you let her do it, she owes you one. Kim's got a killer body with gigantic tits, true, but you've already sucked those tits and fucked that cunt more times than you can count. Let the old lady jump this guy's bones and maybe you get to fuck her little sister - pretty little Muffie, who sleeps in the room next door when she comes to visit. Yeah, you pretend you're just the friendly brother, but you like to sneak a peek at Muffie through the adjoining door when she undresses and then you huff and puff and choke the chicken when she starts stripping down. Maybe sweet little Muffie even knows you are there, and she's putting on a show for you, hoping you'll unlock the door, come in and ...."

"Honey, if you don't want me to do this, it's ok," came the sweet voice of Kimmie.

Cyn looked at Jenny, rolled her eyes and gestured toward the couple, as if to say... "See, if you let them on their own for one fucking minute, they fall off the track." Cyn quickly went over to whisper in Kimmie's ear.

"Kimmie, baby," said Cyn, "don't let Jeff off the hook. You know that you've been fucking his best friend for months now, and sooner or later old Jeffie-boy will figure it out, so here's your chance to get him to be a 'swinger' and then, yeah baby, you'll get to fuck and suck all kinds of hot cock, with no questions asked."

Kim's expression changed immediately. Suddenly she gazed over at Jeff with those big blue eyes and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. 

"This is really for you, honey," she lied. "I know how hard you get when we make love and we pretend there's another guy making me his love-slave, but I'd never do anything like that without your permission. But hon, this guy is here right now, so I say... mmmmm, let's give it a try."

Jeff shrugged his shoulders and gave a quick nod. Kimmie smiled a stunning smile, but didn't even move from the sofa; she just called out, 

"Oh, George, you can come in now." 

Within a few seconds, a good-looking, tanned and well-toned man who looked like he was in his mid 20s sauntered into the room, naked from the waist up and covered with a thin sheen of sweat from his labors in the garage. Kim, still sitting, took her glasses off and slipped out of her top, revealing a lacy red bra that barely contained her 44 DD breasts. Then, reaching back, she unsnapped the bra to let loose her lovelies. George, his eyes popping out at the sight of those monster tits, was about to say something, but he didn't need to, since his thoughts were made plain when his cock started to bulge out of his pants. 

"Let's cut the crap," said Kimmie, as she reached over to unsnap George's pants and pull them off. "Hubby here has no problem with what we're doing, so let me see if you taste as good as you look." George gave a growl, then quickly stripped off Kimmie's bottoms while Jeff calmly massaged his wife's neck. 

"Start sucking baby," murmured George, as he pulled the girl toward his long thick shaft. "Suck it hard, and show me what kind of slut you really are." 

Kimmie grabbed his cock and jerked it up and down rapidly several times, then put the creamy head in her mouth and sucked the pre-cum in, bathing her tongue and lips in the hot spunk and smiling up at her new lover all the while. George moaned and fucked her mouth deep, watching her take his long stiff prick more than half way down to the base, then back up, then down again, this time all the way to the base. He watched her lick his bulging balls with her tongue out, then slid her lips back up the shaft, then repeat the motion 3 or 4 times, and finally take the throbbing prick out of her mouth, laugh, and smear the pre-cum all over her face and tits.

Jenny felt her own pussy juices began to flow and her heart begin to pound, then glanced over at Cyn, who was clearly getting worked up herself. Cyn started to gyrate, shake her body, strip off her red panties, squeeze her tits and stick her tongue out, in a dirty, nasty 'fuck-me' kind of way. Soon, Cyn licked her fingers and began to rub her pussy lips with her moistened fingers, then (as if that was not good enough) she took her pointy demon's tail and began to fuck herself with it. Jenny gulped and found her own hand reaching down to her soaking wet pussy. The two scenes were more than she could take.

Cyn smiled and nodded approvingly as Jenny pulled off her panties and began to spread her legs to make it easier to finger fuck herself while she watched the show. Soon, Jenny was fucking her soapy cunt hard and had to lean back to get her fingers in deeper. When Jenny looked up again, she saw that Cyn had stripped down to nothing but her red high-heeled stomping boots and clutched in her hand a small, compact, red dildo, which she carefully inserted deep into her dripping cunt. 

As Cyn fucked herself with the dildo, she looked over at Kimmie and began to mouth words like 'fuck my cunt' and 'make me your cum slut'. No sooner did Cyn's lips move than the same words came out of Kimmie's mouth, in exactly the same way. George was quick to oblige Kimmie's pleas, shoving his throbbing cock deep into Kimmie's quivering cunt, while Jeff rubbed his own stiff cock and quietly watched his wife turn into a whore. George's mighty cock pounded that girl's slippery cunt like a steam engine while sweet little Kimmie licked her lips and fucked back like there was no tomorrow. 

Cyn looked over at Jenny and gave a quick harsh laugh. "I know what you're thinking, you little slut," said the demon. "You'd like to be fucking that big hunk yourself, wouldn't you?"

Jenny flushed, but then said to herself, "To Hell with it." 

"Yes," Jenny admitted, between grunts, "I want more than my fingers up my cunt; I want to be fucked hard too."

"Then you shall have your wish, my pretty," Cyn growled, as she put her hands on her horns and closed her eyes in concentration. "This is not quite kosher," she murmured, "but fuck it - I'm going to do it anyway, because it pleases me." 

"What are you..." Jenny began, but before she could get the words out, she felt a hard object thrust into her cunt and something else, thick and creamy, shoved deep down her throat. She was on her hands and knees now, and her breasts felt huge and heavy as they swung back and forth in rhythm. 

My god, thought Jenny, she made those guys fuck me now, instead of Kimmie. I'm their toy slut now, getting fucked and fucked good, fucked like never before with a thick cock banging my cunt and another one, just as big, fucking my face - ummmm, it's good, so, so fucking good, it can't be Hell, it must be heaven. 

As the two men slammed into her, Jenny sucked the big creamy cock in her mouth hard, then slammed her ass back against the thick prick probing her cunt. It was everything she'd ever dreamed of, being fucked by two throbbing hard cocks, fucked like a two-bit whore. It was wonderful.

Both men were moaning like they were about to cum, and that made Jenny cream even harder herself. She clenched her pc muscles, bobbed her head furiously and squeezed every last bit of spunk out of those two powerful pricks, determined to make them remember that she was the best fuck they'd ever had, and to forget the little slut Kimmie, who - wait, Jenny thought, as she felt one man shooting his load in her cunt and then slip away - where was Kimmie? Jenny couldn't see very well because the other cock was now shooting all over her face and tits - it felt wonderful, but as Jenny looked down, she saw that those huge hooters that were dripping in spunk were not hers. The men were collapsing, exhausted, and Jenny was covered in cum, but it wasn't her body. 

Cyn was laughing in the corner, and Jenny's own body, Jenny could see, was asleep on the rug. 

"You fucking cunt!" Jenny screamed (in Kimmie's voice). "Give me back my body." Cyn just pointed at Kimmie's body, soaked in sperm and sweat, and laughed some more. 

"You don't know the least of it," said Cyn, "but you'll find out, and it'll only get better."