Читать книгу Swinging: The Games Your Neighbours Play - Mark Brendon - Страница 6

LAST NIGHT, MY GIRLFRIEND CHRISTY and I were having sex with a woman—mid-thirties, toned, blonde.

The blonde woman was lying on her back on a bed, hands fluttering at my hip-bones. She had slender legs encased in black hold-up stockings, a rose tattooed on her left inner thigh, a plush, shaven pussy on which we had both been lavishing attention for a good twenty minutes, a diamante ring in her belly-button, and a sweet smile.

Neither of us could actually see that smile just then, because another girl was sitting on it—one pair of lips athwart another.

This other girl was naked and tanned deep copper, with a sliver of white skin left by the tiniest of briefs. She had short, spiky, dark brown hair.

She had introduced herself to us half an hour earlier as Laurie. She had shaken our hands then, pecked our cheeks, said ‘Hi! So, where are you from?’

Now she hung, gasping, her right hand gripping my left shoulder, her left on the nape of Christy’s neck. Her tongue lit a tangled fuse up my throat and along my jawbone and occasionally slithered into my mouth as we both—in our different ways—used the woman beneath us for our pleasure.

The blonde woman’s tongue emerged to flicker at, and to writhe into, the cleft above it, vanished then returned like a gale-blown flame.

Christy was on her hands and knees at right angles to us. Ducking down beneath Laurie, she nuzzled at the blonde woman’s breasts and stomach while her left hand reached down to finger the prone woman’s clitoris. She grinned up at me, then turned her head upward to kiss and nibble at Laurie’s nipples.

Christy’s body was being jerked and breath and sound forced from her by the man kneeling behind her. This was Laurie’s boyfriend, who was—I think—called Steve. He was as fair as she was dark, with a bang of fair honey-coloured flopping over his face. He was not Christy’s type, and he did what he was doing monotonously, as though he had just one gear. He said ‘Yeah,’ each time his belly slapped against her buttocks. That was monotonous too. She did not even look at him. She was concentrating on the feasting and the sensations up front.

Beyond us, on wall-to-wall mattresses, seven or eight naked couples were intertwined and grunting, giggling or moaning. Behind them again, against the wall, clothed couples stood watching, the men’s arms hanging limply over the women’s shoulders, the women occasionally moving to raise their lips like nymphing trout to kiss their men.

One woman was squatting on the carpet at my right. Her head bobbed to and fro at the groins of two men who stood upright against the wall. Her eyes, however, constantly swivelled to the scene at the centre of the room.

It was all really quite pleasant and, by most standards I think, interesting.

Christy pulled herself away from this Steve and rolled onto her back. She grinned up at me again, then pulled herself down the bed until her arse was on the very edge and her feet on the carpet. She vanished from my sight. A moment later her hair, then her nose, pushed at my testicles. Her mouth was warm and wet.

Steve had obviously followed her, because I felt her head banged rhythmically against the blonde girl’s groin.

I moaned, I suppose.

A quavering male voice close at hand bleated, ‘Er, darling…?’

Christy withdrew her head from between my legs. It was cold without her there.

The man who addressed us wore a grey shirt, fawn chinos and carpet slippers. His hair was white, his face soft and pink. He fingered the gold-rimmed spectacles that hung beneath his chest.

Bending down in front of me, he crossly addressed Laurie’s stomach and shaven pubis, which now slithered back and forth, a couple of feet away from his face—much closer to his wife’s. ‘Darling? Darling? Look, we really must be going. It’s half-past one. The sitter…’

Laurie politely raised her crotch and propped herself up on one leg so that the blonde woman could speak.

She raised her head a few inches. Her lower face gleamed. She licked her lips. ‘Oh, come on, Roger,’ she said. ‘Give us a break. Oh, yeah…’ she creaked at me. ‘No, don’t stop, hun…’ Her eyes shifted back to her husband. ‘I mean, fuck the sitter. I am not going ’til these guys have come.’

She pulled her right arm back through Laurie’s legs, hooked it around her thigh and, with a deep laugh and an imperious ‘Bring that thing back, darling…’ pulled her back down on her.

Roger took a step backward. He sighed. ‘It’s always the same,’ he told me with a shrug and a flap. ‘I mean, it’s alright for you guys, but some of us have to work.’

I leaned forward on my hands. ‘I know,’ I panted sympathetically as my cock slid in and out of his wife. ‘Still—oh, yes—you’ll be able to have a lie-in tomorrow, won’t you?’

‘Me? Lie-in? Ha! Forget it. I’ve got to take Tom to cricket, then I’m meant to be driving in a road-race in Devon. And I have to be up at seven on Monday morning to get to work. And the bloody sitter charges double time after midnight.’

My lips were working as I tried to stop myself from laughing.

This was swinging for you. Middle-class concerns with children and domestic budgets in amongst the groans and yelps of orgiasts.

‘Yes,’ I said sympathetically. ‘Wish I could get that sort of money for sitting on my arse…doing…mmm…nothing…’

Roger nodded. He had found a friend. ‘Well, do be as quick as you can, will you?’ he said. ‘If she lets you…’

I nodded obediently.

Roger shuffled away towards the door. ‘Oh, and Karen!’ he turned and raised his voice. He spoke very slowly, as though to a very old foreigner. ‘I’ve got your bag, OK? And your shoes are outside the dark room.’ He shook his head sorrowfully, and told me, ‘She’s always losing things…’

As he shuffled from the room, Christy allowed a giggle to bubble up. She knelt up at my shoulder so that I felt her pussy damp and hot against my buttocks. Her fingers plucked at my nipples. ‘Come on, darling,’ she croaked in my ear. ‘For heaven’s sake, think about the sitter…’

Laurie’s hand reached out for mine and clasped it. She grit her teeth. Beneath her, Karen said, ‘Hmmff,’ and burbled. Christy and I laughed and kissed. Laurie leaned forward. Her tongue joined ours and slithered around them. Her eyes sparkled, so I kissed them too.

Group hug, only naked and interlinked by tongues and genitals. We were all four united in playful naughtiness and companionship. In that moment, surely, we loved one another.