Chapter 1

"Play with yourself, honey. Keep it warm for me. Make it nice and hard. I'll be right back."

My nipples were puckered almost to frostbite; I couldn't believe how cold those two guys kept their stateroom. What did warm me up was the knowledge that six eyes were focused on my naked ass as I wiggled it toward the bathroom; two of the eyes were owned by my newly found friend Roy, spread-eagled on his side of the room with his cock at attention — courtesy of his hand - and four by Dee and Mike, naked on the other bed. Actually, it was eight eyes, if you wanted to count the two one-eyed monsters hanging between the legs of Roy and Mike, but if you really wanted to be precise, it was only seven, because Mike's cock was buried to the hilt inside Dee's leaking snatch.

As for my sashaying, I didn't have too much choice; a girl has to do something to get their attention if she doesn't have too much in the way of tits. It's been like that most of my life, but my expert use of my mouth and the lower half of my body has sustained me well enough even without big boobs. If I had my choice, though, I would have preferred maybe a 34 at least, only there was no way I was going to let some doctor with a knife build me up.

My thumb pressed on the button at the bottom of the container marked 'lotion', and the other hand underneath the opening filled to the brim with the rich white cream, too thick and white to be cum but a perfect consistency to lubricate Roy as I jerked him off. Unfortunately, I'd have to clean it off before I sucked his cock; otherwise, it would taste as though someone, meaning me, was washing my mouth out with soap.

When I came back into the sleeping area, it was Mike who asked, "How much time do you girls have, Kitty?"

"Well, Buddy and Ed are good in the casino for at least two hours, and if they get tired, they don't know which bar we're supposed to be in. Don't worry, we'll get you guys off. And ourselves too."

I wasn't kidding. Since the cruise started, my husband Buddy and Dee's husband Ed had been at the tables that long every night, while this was the third night that Dee and I had been fucking these two delicious hunks. I bent to kiss Roy, my tongue pushing into his mouth while I rubbed the lotion up and down seven inches of hard muscle and all over his nuts. The barely audible throb of the engines and the gentle rocking of the ship only added to the sensuous thrill of the forbidden adulterous liaison.

I watched Mike pumping his log into Dee, her legs wrapped around his waist, knowing that after he and Roy unloaded their first shots into the two of us, Dee and I would clean each other out, tasting the sperm from the other's lover du jour. Make that lover du cruise. And when we were finished and the guys had recuperated, they might return the favor by giving us a show, or maybe half a show.

There was music in the background, not too loud yet with enough decibels to make me uncertain; had I heard Dee's voice or just read her lips as she told Mike, "I love you, I love you, I love you." My gaze lifted to see the dreamy, romantic look in her eyes, and at that moment, I knew, I just knew, that Dee and Ed would soon be divorced.

It never occurred to me that Buddy and I would shortly follow them back into the freedom of the single life.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I was about ten when Buddy's family moved next door to us. He was twelve, that same age as my sister. Even then, Sheila was ripe, starting to get round in all the right places, pretty, vivacious, fun to be with. I was all of that, too, except not round at all, never would be. Flat-chested then and destined to stay that way, I sometimes heard myself called Olive Oyl. I think it was my determination to overcome that epithet that turned me into the sex maniac that I am now.

Like all the boys, Buddy lusted after Sheila; she was the one, he later told me, much much later, that he would think about as he jerked off. Like all the girls, though, Sheila was only interested in 'older' guys, so Buddy eventually turned his interest toward me. But he started before I even began to care about boys, so it must have been until I was about thirteen or fourteen or so that I first sucked his cock, first tasted that sweet cream that a boy shoots into a girl. I really made him work for it; for many months, I had limited him to sucking bare tit and an occasional hand job but nothing more. Then Sheila gave me lessons on how to suck a banana, and I actually practiced a bit before moving on to Buddy's cock. Still, it was another six months or more before I gave Buddy my cherry, that beautiful night that made me think that I was finally a woman. I wonder what he would have said — or done — if he had known that Sheila was at the top of the stairs, silently cheering me on, watching us fuck buck naked on the living room couch.

Long before that, though, both families, plus all our friends, began to think of Buddy and me as an 'item', two young people on the straight track to marriage. As in fact we were. Sure, I fucked around a little bit, maybe even more than a little bit, and I'm positive that Buddy did also, but that's OK when you're single.

After high school, Buddy went to a local junior college, staying at home so that we could spend as much time as possible together. I still remember the time I told my mother that Buddy would be spending the weekend in my room; the poor dear's eyes actually crossed in shock. When I graduated, I went to work in a construction office. We were married a year later, Buddy at twenty-one and me at nineteen. We fucked like rabbits, but were not blessed with any little bunnies. In retrospect, that's probably a good thing.

Everything was fine for a couple of years. We laughed, we had fun; we fucked and we sucked. I was faithful, and I think Buddy was also. Maybe! But then there came the time when Sheila and her husband decided to have their house painted, so we invited them to stay with us for the week. All we had, besides the bed in the one bedroom of the apartment, was a convertible couch in the living room. No problem, until the night we all sat around and had too much wine to drink. Buddy was the one who brought it up first, the idea of swapping spouses. Sheila's husband Jim actually wasn't too crazy about the idea, but my sister got him to go along with it. I was totally pissed. The bitch! First her body overshadowed me all my life, and then she agrees to fuck my husband, offering up my skinny body to her husband so that he'll go along. BITCH!

As it turned out, the fucking dork had a staying power of about ten seconds; maybe that's why Sheila was so willing to try my Buddy. And Buddy, who had wanted to fuck Sheila since he was twelve years old, was finally getting his chance. Or was that really going to be the first time?

We all used the one bed in the bedroom, taking turns. There was no foreplay; each of us stripped alone. I had seen Sheila naked many times; her firm and healthy breasts pushed out the top of her 36D cups before she removed her bra to reveal serious nipples. While we were still in high school, I had fleetingly thought about fastening my lips on those delicious looking nips, but I never made the advance. Her round hips were just made for fucking, and I grew angrier and angrier at Buddy and Sheila for being so willing, no anxious, to go through with this fucking debauchery.

I blinked in silent surprise when I noticed that my sister's lovely blonde cunt hair had fallen victim to the razor. It surely was not at the request of my boring brother-in-law; Sheila's pussy had undoubtedly welcomed more than one unlicensed cock since her marriage. SLUT! She saw where I stared, looked down at my own untouched bush, and grinned lewdly, her tongue licking her lips.

Turning to Buddy, I saw the blood filled cock I knew and loved, looking somehow even larger than usual. He too was looking at my sister's bald snatch, leering at the moisture leaking out to entice him. The bastard had so much control that he wasn't even showing any pre-cum yet.

Jim was looking at my tits, such as they were. I wished I could read his mind, to no avail. I had the impression that he really didn't want to fuck me, but felt that he had to. His cock was at attention, but clearly no match for Buddy's; in the husband's meat department, at least, I had the advantage over Sheila. But not that night. Jim sported a mustache, usually wonderful for exciting a girl's clit while being eaten, but that night it looked evil.

Jim and I squeezed nakedly into the one easy chair in the bedroom, ready to watch Scene One. Buddy and Sheila were in a deep kiss; not the kiss of whore and john, nor casual bar pickups, but the kiss of known lovers, tongues entangled. He gently slid a knee between hers and walked her backward toward the bed. When the backs of her knees touched the mattress, she immediately collapsed onto it, spreading her legs wide.

Buddy's fingers explored her damp cavern, tweaking her clit, as her hand took hold of his fully loaded weapon and guided it toward her glistening pussy. There was no foreplay as such; no kisses from her mouth on the purple crown of his cock, no licks of his on her outstretched clit, no fingers inside one another. He just shoved it right in, and she took it all the way, a soft moan escaping her lips. Was this the first time, I wondered anew, that they had fucked? His entry into her had seemed so routine, so practiced. I hoped it was a new experience for Buddy; I would never know, not until that day when I didn't care anymore.

What I did know, from the looks on both faces, was that they were enjoying it immensely. Their mouths were locked together, their organs moving with each other as missionary and savage. All the while, I gently, almost lazily, jerked Jim's cock, more keeping it warm and hard rather than trying to bring him to orgasm. At the same time, his hand idly squeezed the inside of my thigh. Son of a bitch, did he not even have enough interest to stick a finger inside me, nor to curl my cunt hair around his fingers?

Jim was staring at the juncture of cock and cunt on our bed. Was he jealous of the size of my husband's member, or embarrassed at his lack of ability to hold out as long as Buddy did, a secret my sister had once angrily, bitingly disclosed to me after a few drinks. Perhaps the bragging I did at that time about Buddy's staying power had brought Sheila to this moment of semi-incest.

With a loud grunt, far louder than he had ever announced an orgasm with me—FUCKING BASTARD—my dear husband began to splash his creamy gift into my sister's wet depths. We had already decided, in our drunken stupor, that we did not need to worry about any avoidance of conception that night; disease had never entered the discussion. As Sheila's screaming orgasm echoed Buddy's grunt, I could see his cum leaking out of her on every up-stroke, dripping down her into a darkness hidden from my view. My husband finally stopped pumping; he lay there on top of his slut, their lips and again tongues entwined, as she tried with her vaginal muscles to squeeze those last few drops of his cum out of his balls.

I will say this: with Buddy's first grunt, Jim's hand did move up and begin to rub my snatch, finally.

I stared at the lewd scene on the bed before me, this obscene coupling of two people in front of their spouses. Supposed to be excited, I was instead repelled. And then my smiling husband looked toward me.

"Would you please lick us clean, Kitty?"

I was shocked, speechless. Having no hesitation in licking Buddy's cock clean and dry when we made love alone, still at that time the moment of intimacy we shared alone was not something I was ready to exhibit for my sister and her husband. All sorts of words jumbled in my find, finally congealing into a soft "No thank you, dear." I was trembling as I said it, forcing myself to hold back the response I preferred. GO FUCK YOURSELVES, PRICK, CUNT, BASTARD, WHORE.

It was soon my turn to perform, to spread my legs for a brother-in-law whose own wife advertised him as a speed demon. Truth be told, as angry as I was at the entire situation, still the sight of my Buddy's cock in action, the visible record of his pearl colored sperm confirming his orgasm, the recollection of the thrill that piece of meat always gave me, had me hotter than I had ever been.

I wasn't about to lie back and let Jim fumble his way into me. I pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist. His hand came up to tweak my nipples, to caress the flat landscape around them; his other hand reached to pull my mouth toward him for a kiss, but I shook my head free. I was there to fuck, not to be romantic; his cock was hard and my pussy was wet. What more did we need?

I reached behind me to hold that love muscle as a handle, to control it as I slid backwards on top of it, guiding it into me. Then I went into overdrive, supporting myself with two hands next to his head, fucking him from above while all he could do was hold on to my hips. My only desire was to get myself off, and quickly; I didn't care whether or not Jim would cum inside me, though I knew he would, even faster than me.

It took very little time before I heard "I'm gonna cum, Kitty, I'm gonna cum." And he did, with a little grunt. I felt the throb of his orgasm, the increased wetness inside my cunt, but I still had my own orgasm to achieve. My breath was coming in gasps, but I heard Sheila clearly.

"Did you see what I meant, Buddy? Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am."

Busy as I was, it took a moment for those words to sink in. 'Did you see what I meant?' When had she told him about Jim's premature ejaculation? I had been with them all evening, and Sheila had never mentioned it. In the past, she had told me in private, and I had never shared the information with Buddy. Had they fucked before? Tears crept into my eyes, leaking, I hoped invisibly, down my cheeks.

I would show them, both. While I had never faked an orgasm before, at least not with Buddy, and I didn't intend to have to fake one with Jim, still I could control my noises. So I kept pumping; I could feel Jim's cock start to shrivel, but I didn't let up. It was probably very uncomfortable for him at that moment, but I didn't give a damn. When I finally did cum, I let go with a scream louder and longer than Buddy had ever heard from me.

"AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE."

I collapsed next to Jim's head, my own away from the side where the spectators were curled together. My body shook, from exhaustion and from hidden tears. No one spoke for five minutes. Then Buddy, his brains now totally migrated to his cock, opened his mouth.

"Come on, Kitty, how about you and Sheila putting on a show for us?"

My skin crawled. Don't get me wrong; I love my sister, at least most of the time, when she's not fucking my husband. But then? There? Yes, I had tasted pussy before, and it was nice, even though it wasn't cock. But that wasn't the time or place for me to do it again.

"No fucking way. I'm going to sleep. You two go sleep on the couch."

I slid off Jim and closed my eyes, lying on my side. I knew it would be quite a while before I slept. Sobbing quietly, I heard Buddy and Sheila go to the couch. They didn't bother to close the bedroom door, and I soon heard the sounds of them fucking again, heard the slurp of Sheila's mouth as she sucked my husband's cock. Jim must have heard them also, for his hand crept around my back to my tits. I stiffened.

"Jim, I like you, but if you ever touch me again, I'm going to fucking kill you."

I slept undisturbed.

When I awoke, I knew two things; first, I was going to make believe that nothing very important happened, and second, I was going to fuck every cock I could get and my husband could go fuck himself if he objected. As for my sister, I knew that I was just jealous of her body, and I'd get over it.

I had already started a new job, with an insurance and paralegal agency run by two guys, Kurt and Dave. Kurt was the insurance man; 40-ish, tall, West Point type, though he never attended that academy, married though he rarely mentioned his wife. Dave, who asked to be called David but whose request was universally ignored, was the paralegal, helping people with do-it-yourself legal forms so that they wouldn't have to pay through the nose for legal fees. Dave was a handsomely rugged guy in his early 50's, a non-smoking Marlboro Man, if you've ever seen reruns of those old commercials and ads. He was a construction man who became a paralegal after his idiot boss unthinkingly removed a piece of safety equipment at the wrong time and put him into the hospital for months. Dave's wife had passed away shortly before I started to work for them. Kurt was my immediate boss; I don't remember who worked for Dave, but it wasn't long before she quit and Dee came to work for the company. Dee was my age and my size, very pretty; she was a little bigger than me in the chest department. Shit, even twelve year old boys are bigger than me in the chest department. Her husband's name was Ed.

About a month or so into the job, I had a particularly hectic day. Dee had been home sick and both Kurt and Dave loaded me up with a ton of work, stuff that couldn't wait. When Dave left about four, Kurt and I continued until after five.

"Time to quit, Kitty. Great job today. Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

Thoughts ran through my mind in far less time than it takes to read them. Do I look stupid? I knew that Kurt rarely had anything to drink; he just wanted to fuck me. A girl can tell when a boss wants more than a day's work from her. I could tell that he wasn't getting a lot from his wife; nice lady, but no sex symbol. I've seen Kurt in a Speedo and he looks well hung; very well hung. Well, I had my period, but we could still have some fun. I really enjoy thick, creamy baby sauce in my mouth; Buddy had taught me that way back when. And it was time for me to get even with my husband.

"Why don't I make us some dinner? Buddy's out of town tonight."

Poor Kurt had a lot of trouble keeping a straight face. He followed me to my apartment; his car was so close on my tail that it felt like it was taking my temperature. At home, I sat him on the couch while I poured us drinks. As I held out his drink toward him, he reached out but instead of grabbing the glass, he reached past it and took my wrist, pulling me gently to him. One of my knees hit the couch, and I knelt over Kurt to put the glass on the table alongside the couch.

His lips were soft as we kissed, one hand behind my neck holding my head in place. He closed his eyes and I followed suit, my lips parting slightly to accommodate his flicking tongue. My fingers caressed his face and I felt his hand on my back; it was on top of my bra hook, through the blouse, but he didn't attempt to unhook it then. It moved down to the small of my back as Kurt began to pull my ass toward him. I twisted my body to sit on the couch and he moved above me. His hand moved to my chest, feathering my nipples. I pulled the bottom of my blouse out of my skirt waist and his hand slipped under, kneading the cups and hesitating slightly. I smiled to myself, knowing what would happen next.

His hand was behind me then, to unhook the bra, that one handed action little boys learn in the playpen, and to return to the front. I head a slight gasp and his motion paused.

"Are you surprised, Kurt?"

"I didn't know you wore a padded bra."

"Don't worry; I may be built like a boy on top, but below the waist I'm all woman." Sure, you can tell by the sanitary pad.

His lips nursed on my nipples, carrying out the universal male fantasy. One of my hands held his mouth to my chest while the other pulled his shirt tail out and began to caress his back. He put a hand behind my knee and slowly moved it up under my skirt. I knew we weren't finished with surprises and began to wonder what kind of sex would end the evening, not that I really cared how he wanted to do it.

After his hand squeezed my ass cheeks for a few moments, it worked its way around, outside my panties, planning to rub my pussy. I tried not to tense up as I waited for the hand to reach and feel the pad, positioned just as my mother had taught me, absorbing my menstrual flow. His still hidden cock pressed against my leg and my hand insinuated itself under his belt to grab his ass and pull it toward me.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth still on a nipple but no longer sucking.

"Another surprise, Kitty?"

"Don't worry, boss; I can take care of you any which way you'd like."

"I wish you wouldn't call me 'boss' when I'm trying to get your clothes off."

"Oops."

"I think I'd better leave; I'm not used to being with a woman when she has her period."

I was as horny as I had been in a long time. "How about me at least getting you off? You know you call me 'big mouth' in the office."

He was very still. "You know, I like to fuck around as much as possible. Still, I've always made it a debt of honor not to cum unless I made the woman cum first, and I've got no experience with periods."

"I can teach you, Kurt." Shit, it sounded like I was pleading. In my heart, I was.

"Plus, I didn't tell my wife that I'd be late. Will Buddy be away next Monday night too?"

"Actually, he will."

"It's a date then. See you in the office tomorrow." We kissed, tongues active.

With that he was gone, leaving me with a soaking pussy; my only choices were my fingers, my trusty vibrator, or rubbing myself off on the corner of the couch like a dog smelling a bitch in heat. BASTARD! I hoped that his wife had a headache and he would have to jerk himself off. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep, wondering if I had fucked up my job. Would I be fired? What finally put me to sleep was the buzz of the vibrator on my nipples as my fingers worked my clit. Who needs men?

I do, dammit!

The next morning, I was in the office before Kurt, waiting for him. He came in the back way as usual. When I heard him and brought him his morning coffee, I started immediately with "Listen, boss, I hope that last night didn't screw up our relationship here in the office."

"Don't be silly, baby. We have a date Monday night; I'm going to fuck you blind. Until then, let's get those bills out." He came around his desk, kissed me deeply and grabbed my ass.

I blushed like a virgin.

The rest of the week was a blur, as I imagined what I would wear to work on Monday, and then again what I would have on when he reached my apartment—I expected to leave early on Monday to prepare my bed, as well as my body, for him—what we would do to each other in bed, what kind of noise would he make when he would be ready to cum, how many times I could get him off before he collapsed. Sunday night I couldn't fall asleep easily, and with Buddy at home, couldn't very well go use my vibrator. Only my fingers, slowly and quietly, could help. Finally I slept.

I awoke to a soft touch on my lips, Buddy's kiss to tell me that he was leaving for another week out of town. My eyes still closed, I parted my lips slightly so that my tongue could slip between his lips.