by Boondocker
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is intended for adults.

Stacy never thought she'd be in a position like this. Being pleasured by another woman… being with two men at the same time… "swinging". But, it was something that her husband Jared had been involved in before they met and the fact was that while Stacy didn't believe she'd actually ever DO any of these things, she had certainly fantasized about it.

She had always been very ordinary. Not very tall but not short either, her "curves" were noticeable but not dramatic. Her face was plain but clear… many men insisted that it was beautiful but she didn't see it. On the other hand, she had heard guys talking about the "Marry Anne or Ginger" question and she supposed that she was in the general vicinity of "Marry Anne".

Truthfully, she knew that she was quite attractive, it just wasn't the sort of pretty that exuded sex appeal. Usually, a guy would have to look at her twice before realizing Stacy was actually a bit of a babe.

Of course, Stacy Schnabel (now Lancaster, a name change she was glad to accept) had never made any effort to catch anyone's eye. Her greatest personal failing was her lack of confidence and assertiveness. She'd never cared for makeup nor done much with her hair. Her damn, dull brown, straight hair. She hated it. For her entire life, she had hated it but refused to do anything about it. It was perhaps something of a contradiction but despite Stacy's basic lack of self-confidence, she took a sort of pride in being exactly what she was. Her lack of assertiveness was the manifestation of a personal, unconscious philosophy. She wanted the world to come to her and value her for her real self, not some phony facade or persona. So, she was quiet, wore little or no makeup and kept her dull brown hair sensibly short… though always long enough to fall across her eyes as a kind of shelter.

But those sheltering bangs had another role. When she was in the mood and a guy caught her fancy, she would peer out from behind that shelter. First, there would be a smirk showing just a hint of white teeth. Then her eyes would seem to grow heavy but they would maintain their focus on the object of her desire. Blushing heat would rise in her cheeks and the nostrils of her delicate nose would flair wide. The plain but attractive young woman hiding behind the fall of her hair could transform into a smoldering siren that seemed to embody lust.

By the time she married, roughly a dozen men had been struck by the full force of that look. In a few cases, Stacy had knowingly engaged in one night stands on a whim but for the most part, she preferred to date a man and get to know him. She was pretty casual about sex in her own mind but saw no reason to let any man take her for granted.

---

In a very typical manner, Stacy had discovered the pleasure of touching herself around the age of twelve. For a couple years, this lead to no more than idly stroking herself as she lay in bed. In junior high, as girls began to whisper and giggle to each other on the subject of sex, she learned about orgasms. It didn't sound like anything she had experienced herself and, in her practical and intelligent way, she set out to discover what all the excitement was about. She got more vigorous with her stroking and began to think about what objects she might decide to insert into her tight young cunny. The sex ed class in school hadn't been very informative about "the good stuff" but she had learned about the hymen and virginity. She didn't think she wanted to bust her cherry yet and from everything she had heard, she should be able to make herself climax without doing so.

She even gave serious consideration to talking to her mom about it. She remembered the hasty discussion her parents had had when the time came to sign the consent form for that sex ed class. Her father had read it over carefully and had apparently decided it was suitable. Her mother hadn't objected about the class but Stacy had caught her rolling her eyes a couple times as Stewart (Stacy's father) carefully read each line of the syllabus. Stacy had gotten the impression that her mother had wanted to sit their daughter down to have a serious talk about sex and to cover everything... both the risks and the rewards.

It would be many years before Stacy and her mother Wendy had a frank talk and Stacy learned what her mother had been thinking at that moment. But back when she was fourteen and in pursuit of an orgasm, she just couldn't get up the nerve to go to her mother and ask the questions.

In the end, Stacy decided that rather than putting anything like the handle of her hair brush in cunny, the practical thing was to just use her fingers. Up to that point, she had just stroked the surface of her labia, feeling the sparse hairs roll and twist beneath her hand. She had also found her clit of course but the feelings she got from touching it were so odd that she hesitated to do much to it.

Thinking things through as always, she formed a plan of attack. She would use a finger or two and push them into her hole. If she didn't feel like that was getting her anywhere, she'd bite the bullet (so to speak) and spend some time on her clit.

Her parents had just last year begun leaving her home alone for a few hours once in a while. One Sunday morning they each had places to be and she knew she would have hours to herself. Fortunately (at least for the purposes of self exploration) she was an only child. She sat on her bed, still in her pajamas. Her mind was racing. As far as she could tell (and she had searched pretty thoroughly), her father had no pornography. But several times she'd been over at friends' and been shown what those other girls had found in their own houses. It seemed like pretty much every guy in the world other than her father had magazines and videos. Lots of mothers also had vibrators and dildos. Her own mother didn't seem to.  Still, as Stacy sat on her bed that Sunday morning, her mind had quite a bit of fodder.

She thought about cocks and she thought about pussies. Hairy pussies and shaved pussies... thick cocks and skinny cocks. She imagined the sounds of slapping flesh she had heard on those videos. She was beginning to breathe heavily and felt flush. She could especially feel the heat in her cunny and her budding breasts felt tender. And she hadn't even touched herself yet.

She got off the bed and stood in front of the full length mirror hanging from her closet door. Her scarlet flannel pajamas were rumpled and shapeless. Suddenly, in a bust of action, she tore her top over her head, not bothering with the buttons. Then she dropped the pant-bottoms and panties and kicked them away. She slowed as she stood straighter and avoided looking at her reflection for a moment or two. Finally, she faced herself.

Stacy had seen Wendy naked several times (but never her father). In fact, she had just seen her thirty-nine year old mother getting out of the shower a few weeks earlier. Her mother looked pretty good for her age... if the observer was realistic in their expectations. Her C-cup breasts hung rather low, their nipples stretched wide and flat. There was considerable padding on her thighs and buttocks but the paunch of her stomach didn't hang at all and her waist was still well defined. Stacy had also noticed the thick thatch of nearly black fur that covered her mother's mound.

Of course, that was what Wendy looked like naked. When dressed in something attractive, her breasts rode high on ample support and her hips and thighs looked lush and inviting. Compared to many women Wendy's age, she looked quite nice.

What Stacy now saw in the mirror was something very different indeed. She had to look carefully to see the few wisps of hair growing from her groin... and they didn't seem to be nearly as dark as her mother's. The mound of her pussy was plain to see and at the moment was a pink several shades more intense than the rest of her pale body. Her hips and waist were kind of indistinct... her so-called baby fat preventing the formation of the curves she knew men loved. As her eyes traveled up the reflection of her own body her lust-heavy eyes widened slightly as she noticed her breasts. Her mother had gotten her training bras but really, her tits were normally hardly even noticeable. But now, as multiple lust-inducing visions passed through her mind, her areolae had swollen significantly. The half-dollar size rings normally conformed to the very modest swell of her breasts but now they stood up prominently forming nearly perfect half-circle domes although the nipples themselves were still more or less flat. The usual sea-shell pink tint of her areolae was much brighter now, echoing the flame of her cunny.

Thoughts of cocks and pussies dropped from her mind as she stared at her breasts. She'd been playing with her pussy for a couple years but had never paid much attention to her breasts. She had seen on the pornographic tapes how the men would rub and lick the (usually fake) breasts of their partners but she had just thought that was for the sake of the men. Now, as she stared at her own aroused tits, she realized she could feel the same heat she felt in her pussy throbbing at their tips.

She ran a couple fingernails across one nipple. Her pussy twinged. Stacy let out a very brief, very quite moan. That had felt very strange. Somehow, tip of her breast felt both numb and sensitive at the same time. And the sensation seemed to be tied directly to her cunny. She brought up her other hand and lightly brushed both tits. She felt the tingle again but it wasn't as strong. She noticed that her swollen areolae had receded some. Stacy realized that she had managed to distract herself and that her body was cooling down, both literally and figuratively. Her mind returned to one of the porno scenes where two men had been fucking a woman at the same time. She thought briefly of their pistonning cocks and then of the way one of the men had twisted the actress's nipples. Stacy's nostril's flared and heat flushed her body. She aggressively grabbed each of her nipples and twisted.

"Owe!" she yelped. She stumbled slightly. She hadn't been prepared for how much that would hurt. Standing in front of a mirror thinking about sex also tended to distract one's body from mundane concerns like balance.

She sat back on the bed and tried to think clearly. The twist had brought mostly pain but something else had happened as well. She was a little confused and didn't like the feeling. Tentatively, she grasped her right nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Without exerting much pressure, she gently pulled it out from her body, letting it slip from her fingers and snap back. "Aahhg" she breathed through her open mouth. Now *that* had been all pleasure. Once again, she had felt it both in her breast and in her pussy. Looking down at her nipple, she could see red finger marks quickly fading. She silently thought to herself, "If any guy ever tries to twist my tits off like they did in that video, I'll kick his teeth in."

Stacy looked around a bit, getting her bearings. Discovering how sensitive her breasts got when she was aroused had been good but she was neglecting her cunny. She had also realized that she liked watching herself. She looked at her mirror. It didn't quite reach the floor but she discovered that if she sat on the floor and sat more or less straight, leaning against her bed, her head was high enough that she could see everything she did to herself. She checked the time and found that less than ten minutes had passed, she had hours yet. She settled down and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair had fallen down across her eyes. Just before she brushed it out of the way she paused and studied herself again. She kind of liked how she looked that way. She'd have to remember that. But for now, she wanted to be able to see herself unobstructed.

She spread her legs and bent her knees. Pausing a moment, she realized the angles weren't very good. She scooted her butt forward several inches and leaned back farther. She glanced at the mirror and saw that she could still see her pussy. She could also look down and partially see it directly. With her right hand she cupped her mound and gently rubbed it.

She imagined a man. A tall man with big hands and a soft voice. And a hard dick. She imagined that it was that man who was rubbing her pussy. She imagined kissing the man with her mouth opened. Sitting on the floor in her room, her eyes drifted closed and her mouth opened, her lips protruding. Her tongue stuck out slightly and waved side to side. Very quickly, she lost herself in her fantasy.

Stacy's body felt hot. Her mound was soft and pliant under her fingers. It seemed to throb in time to the beating of her heart. The man in her fantasy brought his cock forward, preparing to fuck her.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She thought the word to herself over and over again. Soon, she was whispering it softly. She had begun rocking her body back and forth. Her free hand drifted up to her right breast, rubbing it and flicking her nipple with her thumb.

The middle finger on her right hand slipped between the folds of her pussy. She was very wet and very warm down there. She stroked up and down her sex and soon, her index finger joined its sister. She continued stroking. From time to time she spread her fingers, opening the lips of her sex. She felt tendrils of cool air lick her moist, pink flesh and she shuddered slightly as goose-bumps flashed across her body.

One corner of her mind was yelling at her to open her eyes. A part of her wanted desperately to see as her fingers spread open her lips and revealed the soft pink interior. But if she opened her eyes, her fantasy man would vanish and he had her under his spell. The man had no eyes. He had no face. Really, at this point he was no more than two hands and enormous penis. But that was all the girl needed.

She paused in her rocking and her hands stilled against her body. Her mouth closed and she licked her lips. The man behind her eyelids grasped her thighs. She whimpered slightly as her knees actually widened. She wiggled her butt against the carpet and slid down a few more inches. She was breathing very heavily, her nostrils flaring and contracting as sensations twisted through her body.

She had intended to start with one finger. She had made a plan as was her nature. But that rational, intelligent girl was gone and the faceless man's enormous cock was much, much bigger than one of her fingers. A distant corner of her mind pointed out that his penis was now about the size of a telephone pole and for a moment she snorted and coughed as she laughed at herself. Stacy stopped herself... she didn't want to lose the momentum of her lust. She stopped thinking, threw her plan out the window and plunged her two fingers into the hole at the base of her sex.

The fantasy man in her mind followed suit, plunging his absurd phallus into her. She paused, waiting.

Nothing happened.

Oh, it certainly felt good. It just didn't feel a whole lot better than just rubbing her pussy lips did.  Her fingers hadn't met any resistance to speak of. She knew she hadn't reached her cherry and she didn't intend to. But still... where were the fireworks?

Mr. Phallus had vanished. She opened her eyes and tried to focus. She saw herself sprawled on the floor. She had to lift her head to see the reflection of her hand on her cunny. She pushed herself up straighter, scooting back. She frowned.

She was still breathing hard. Her pussy was certainly feeling the intrusion; it just wasn't causing the uproar she was expecting. She clenched her mussels and her cunny gripped her fingers slightly harder. It also sent a ripple of excitement through her body. Well, it feels good, it's just not what she was hoping for. She moved her fingers a bit, first curling them slightly and then spreading them a bit. More ripples scattered through her body, making her breath in sharply.

That rational corner of her mind spoke up. "Of course I didn't just cum right away. Women don't cum just because a man sticks his thing in them. He's got to FUCK them."

Stacy began stroking herself, this time into her hole. Her eyes closed again but this time, there was no Mr. Phallus. She just wanted to concentrate on what she was feeling. Her left hand gripped and kneaded her breasts. She was being a little rougher with them and it was feeling good. Her fingers were now plunging in and out of her pussy rapidly and she was sounding quite wet down there. She licked and bit her lips a few times and gently moaned.

This activity all felt very good but it didn't feel like it was going anywhere. As frustration set in, Stacy realized that her right thumb was pressing against and striking her cunny just below her clit. Well, the plan had been to move on to her clitoris if she needed to.

The girl bit her lips and arched her back in anticipation. Her eyes were closed tightly and her face looked either scared or mad. She plunged her fingers into her sex one last time and held them there as far in as they would go. Her thumb move up, pressed solidly against the base of her clit and then flicked past.

Stacy grunted. A stinging burn shot through her body... a burn that felt very, very good. The flush that had been filling her body intensified and she suddenly began to sweat. Licking her lips and then opening her mouth, she brought her thumb in for another pass. She strummed her clit a second time.

"Ahhh!" she cried out. She felt for certain that this was her ticket to climax. Whatever corner of her mind had been providing occasional rational observations had been silenced. She threw caution to the wind. She roughly stroked her fingers in and out of her hole a few more times and then began to rapidly flick her clitoris.

About ten seconds of that did the trick. Stacy got her fireworks. Her body thrashed to the side, her face pressed up against her bed. Her mouth hung open, nothing more than a wheezing squeak slipping out through her straining throat. The fingers of her right hand were plunged into her sex but weren't moving. Her body was rigid and trembling slightly. What was going on in her mind was impossible to describe... blinding and burning and roaring all at the same time. Her right hand convulsed a couple times with stiff, half-hearted strokes. Then she mashed the heel of her hand against her clit.

"Hu-Ahhh" she cried out again, her body thrashing over, pressing the other side of her face against the mattress she had been leaning on. She pulled her hand away from her pussy and, without thinking at all, slapped the meat of her pussy lips three times. She heard each slap and fluids splashed out, coating her thighs and sprinkling her chest and face. What she felt from those slaps nearly blanked her mind completely.

Her mouth was still open, her last breath slowly seeping out in a whining wheeze. She finally managed to twist her body all the way around until she was on her hands and knees. Her orgasm was subsiding and she tried to catch her breath. Sweat began gathering at the tips of her breasts and running down her legs. A drop or two fell from her nose and chin.

Stacy's gasping breaths were beginning to slow. She'd closed her mouth and her muscles began to relax. She let herself fall to her side. She lay like that for several minutes and began to feel chill. Finally she pulled herself up onto her bed and pulled one of her blankets over her shoulders. She remained sitting because she felt like she might go to sleep otherwise. She avoided looking at the mirror. For the moment she just wanted to savor the feelings. She was drained but very satisfied with the outcome.

She looked at the floor where she had sat as she pleasured herself. Small wet stains marred the carpet. She stared at them for some time with her mind blank. Slowly, it began to pull itself together and sent a search party off to find her sanity. That rational corner of her mind was found quickly enough and started to take stock. It asked a question, "Does that stuff stain?"

"Shit" she said and stumbled into the bathroom for towels. As she did she checked the clock. From the time she had torn off her PJ's to the time she started cleaning up the mess, less than a fifteen mintues had passed. She still had hours left.