A Different Kind of Party
Copyright© 2025 by Fanlon
Chapter 8
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Tom and Mandy dreamed about what it would be like to go to a swinger party. When they received an invitation, they were ecstatic. There was only one little problem: that invitation came from Tom’s little sister, Stephanie. They would discover far more from their new friends than they'd ever imagined.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Fiction Brother Sister Group Sex Swinging Exhibitionism Oral Sex Voyeurism
I woke up slowly the next morning. I rolled over, reaching out my arm to pull Mandy into me for a few more minutes of snuggling. Something I did on occasion, and each time I did, I was treated to a contented mewling noise from my little swinger sex pistol. This time, all I touched were empty, cold sheets.
“Mandy...” I grumbled disappointingly into my pillow and waited for her response. None came.
I growled and forced myself to open my eyes. The morning sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window, bathing the room in bright light that I wasn’t ready for, nor did I want right then. I yanked the comforter up over my head to darken my vision with every intention of going back to sleep.
“Tom!” I heard Mandy’s distant voice. She sounded like she was on the other side of the house. “Breakfast!”
Breakfast? Since when did she make breakfast?
Mandy was a lot of things, but a morning person was not one of them. Cooking breakfast was definitely not something I would have ever expected. Usually, the roles were reversed. I was the one to wake up early, making coffee and breakfast for her. Now, it seemed the tables had turned.
The exuberant smile that formed on my face would have made her laugh, had she been in the bedroom. I was excited. Mandy was an incredible cook. She might not be the one to make breakfast, but she loved to make dinner. Feeding people and watching them enjoy it made her happy. God, I could only imagine what amazingness she had cooked up this morning; it was going to be amazing!
I threw off my covers and sat up, lifting my chin and sniffing the air. I expected to smell something amazing, giving away a hint at whatever masterpiece Mandy had created in the kitchen. It wasn’t bacon or sausage, which I would easily be able to smell throughout the house. I knew that because I’d used that trick more than once to great effect. For instance, last time I was blessed with an amazing thank-you blowjob. That type of thing will make a guy want to wake up early and make breakfast!
I got out of bed, ignoring my body’s insistence that I needed to use the restroom, and headed straight for the kitchen.
I walked into the kitchen with far more pep in my step than would be normal. I looked around, and the lack of aromas should have been telling. It was early, and my mind wasn’t working quite at peak performance just yet. When my eyes landed on Mandy as she sat at the kitchen table, my brow furrowed.
“Morning, babe!” Mandy perked up, smiling at me with her mouth full and white liquid leaking down her chin. “I got you a bowl and spoon.”
My jaw dropped.
“Umm...” I didn’t know what to say. There before me sat Mandy, a white bowl in front of her that was filled with what looked like Cheerios and milk. “Cereal, seriously?”
“What’s wrong with cereal?” Mandy asked, looking slightly offended.
“Nothing, I love cereal,” I rushed to reply.
“I know!” Mandy grinned happily, pointing at the box of Captain Crunch with Crunch Berries on the table. It was my favorite. “Sit down and eat with me.”
“It’s just...” my eyes shifted, looking at the perfectly clean stove and countertops, and sighing, dejected. That’s when I saw the coffee maker wasn’t on either. I tried to hide the immense disappointment I was feeling from my face. “I thought you made me breakfast.”
“Don’t give me that heartbroken puppy dog look.”
“That’s not what I’m—”
“Could have fooled me!” Mandy giggled, and it rankled my nerves, and I glared at her.
I pulled out my chair and flopped down in an overly dramatic huff.
“You’re so ridiculous,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes as she got up. Mandy made her way over behind my chair and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly, and planting a kiss on my cheek. “Don’t worry, your coffee is coming right up.”
“What has you up so early this morning?” I asked.
“I don’t know, probably how amazing last night was. I just couldn’t sleep anymore and I got up.”
I waited for the second shoe to drop, but it never did. Thankfully.
At least breakfast wasn’t a total bust. I could suffer through cereal and coffee in silence. To be completely fair, that was what I always made myself when Mandy wasn’t here, so it’s not like I wasn’t used to it.
“Babe, I gotta get going or I’m going to be late for class,” Mandy called out from just inside the bathroom door.
“Alright, love you!” I replied, running my hands through my hair to rinse out the shampoo.
“Don’t forget to call your daughter.”
“Mandy!” I barked and heard her giggling.
“Just call her today, okay.”
“Her name is Beck.”
“Uh-huh, sure. I’ll see you later, and I love you too.”
The whole Daddy thing got old fast. It was kind of hot when Beck said it last night, but she wasn’t here, and it wasn’t last night either. Mandy knew that, but she loved to needle me whenever she could. It drove me crazy, but I found myself chuckling as I remembered the shock on her face when she heard Beck call me Daddy. That look alone made a little teasing worth it.
The first half of my workday flew by, and when it came time to break for lunch, I was eager to get out of the office. I’d been a part of two very different Zoom meetings, which were originally slated for twenty to thirty minutes each, and the two of them ended up taking all damn morning. So, when I got the chance to escape, I did.
I raced out to my car and headed straight for one of the best local Mexican food cafés in the area, and it just so happened to be close by. This place has a sweet pork barbacoa enchilada that’s to die for. Perfect balance of hot and sweet, and add in the black beans, rice, and a side of fresh Pico ... perfect.
I was watching the guy making my food throw my tinfoil dish into the pizza-oven-like cheese melter thing when I felt my phone start vibrating in my pocket. I ignored it at first, thinking it would be someone, more than likely Karen from work. It never failed. The moment I left the office, my phone would ring, and it would be our office administrator with some dire news, and if I didn’t drop everything right then and there to handle it, I was being combative and disrespectful and would then cry to my boss about my “attitude.”
I mean, heaven forbid, I decided to take my full lunch hour one time. I knew that would result in unpleasantness later, however. I would eventually hear about it from my boss, who would make a show of being upset with me and then immediately commiserate with me, telling me he was just as annoyed with her as I was.
My phone buzzed twice against my leg, and my hackles rose up just from knowing it was probably her. When it buzzed the third time, I sighed and dug my cell from my pocket, expecting to see the incoming call from the main line from my office. It took my mind a second to catch up to the name on the screen... ‘your daughter.’
“Oh, shit!” My eyes flashed around, taking in all the people waiting in line, looking to see who was watching me. That was stupid; no one was. Everyone there was waiting either to order food or pay for the food they ordered. No one gave a shit who was calling me. I hit the accept button and raised my device to my ear. “Hey...”
“Hey, Tom,” I heard Beck’s voice. She sounded different, and I noticed a lot of background noise, like she was in a mob of people. “You in the office?”
“Actually, no,” I replied. “I’m getting lunch.”
“Oh, my too. What are you having?”
“Enchiladas.”
“Yum, I love Mexican food.”
“Me too, and this is the best in town, easily.”
“Black or pinto beans?” she asked.
I smiled; she knew exactly where I was.
“Black, duh.”
“Good man!”
“Daddy’s always good,” I replied before thinking about it. I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea. The whole Daddy thing was fun, but it was naughty bedroom talk. Not waiting in line for enchilada talk.
“Mmm, God!” I heard Beck purr, and before she whimpered through the phone. “Maybe we should get lunch sometime. I’m not too far from there.” There was a moment of silence before I heard Beck whisper, “This is, if Daddy will let me sit with him.”
Now it was my turn to get flustered. My mind raced with images of Beck on her knees at my feet, my dick in her hands as she smiled up at me, eagerly licking her lips.
“I uh...”
“I’ll be good, promise!” Her voice took on that little girl lilt that she’d used on me before, and I pictured the look on her face as she called me Daddy last night.
I cleared my throat, and she giggled. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
“Great, it’s a date!” The happiness in her voice made me chuckle.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Okay, I gotta go. I only have a few minutes before I have to get back to work. Talk to you later!”
“C-ya, Beck.”
“Bye, Daddy!”
I had a massive smile on my face when I hung up my phone and stuck it back in my pocket. I felt strangely taller, and it was easier to hold my shoulders back with my chin up. No matter what happened the rest of the day with Karen, I was going to be in a good mood when it came time to go home and see Mandy.
I was about thirty minutes later than normal getting home. Thankfully, I’d texted Mandy earlier, warning her I was going to be late. I’d made that mistake once or twice early on when we started dating, and came home to find an irate woman, fuming in the kitchen, doing dishes while two plates of food were sitting on the table, no longer warm.
It wasn’t all that hard to warn her if I was going to be late, so she could adjust her cooking times. That’s how she explained it to me anyway, and she was right. As much as Mandy loved to cook, she hated it when she worked hard to make something amazing, and it was ruined because I wasn’t there to eat it. If you really wanted to piss her off, just mess with her food. You’ll see that sweet little angel turn into a woman possessed in the blink of an eye, and let me tell you, she may be small, but she makes up for her petiteness with a deadly fury of someone twice her size.
I could hear music from inside the garage when I got out of my truck and headed to the door that led into the house. Mandy was jamming out to Lionel Richie’s Dancing on the Ceiling, and I could make out the sound of her voice as she sang along.
“What’s with this girl’s love of the eighties?” I asked myself aloud before turning the knob on the garage entry door and opening it a crack, just enough for me to peek inside.
The thing was, Mandy was extremely shy when it came to singing. She’d never sing in front of me. At least not on purpose. I had to catch her in the act if I wanted to hear her.
Through that small crack, I could peer into the kitchen. I couldn’t see much of it, but the stove and sink were easily in view, and that meant so was Mandy. I smiled as I watched her dancing in front of the stove, not ten feet from me, holding a wooden spoon up to her mouth as she sang along like no one was watching.
She was so lost in what she was doing, she didn’t notice me as I silently slipped into the kitchen, walking on the balls of my feet as I crept up behind her. Not wanting to risk her sensing me behind her, I extended my arms and snatched Mandy up, yanking her off the ground.
“Fuck!” Mandy screamed in panic, dropping the wooden spoon to clatter onto the floor.
When she started kicking, I set her back down on the ground, and she immediately spun, her eyes wild.
“Tom,” she growled. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry, Babe,” I chuckled. “I couldn’t resist. You were in your own little world and didn’t even notice when I came home.”
She screwed up her face in confusion before it grew hard as she glared at me.
“How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough.”
“Tom!” she smacked me, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson.
“What?” I protested, trying not to laugh at her obvious anger, but it was hard.
“You know damned-well what!”
“You sounded amazing.”
“Oh, shut up, I did not.”
“Yes, you did,” I replied, my voice genuine and honest. She really did sound good, and I never understood her fear of singing in front of people. “I wish you’d sing more for me.”
“You wish.” Mandy snapped.
“I really do love your voice,” I replied.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Mandy tried to act like my words didn’t mean anything to her, but I saw the smile on her face as she moved back to the stove.
“Did you call Beck today?” She asked over her shoulder.
“Nope,” I replied, doing my best to keep my face neutral because I wanted to mess with my girlfriend a bit.
“What do you mean, you didn’t call her!” Mandy spun, looking stunned and angry in equal measure. “You said—”
“I didn’t have to call her,” I cut her off, smirking. “Because she called me.”
“Oh, why didn’t you just say that ... you big jerk!” She threw the dishtowel she always had draped over her shoulder when she cooked at me.
I threw up my hands in defense, as if the flying cloth was some sort of ultra-deadly weapon. The thing bounced harmlessly off my hands, but I cried out dramatically, nonetheless.
“Oh, knock it off!” Mandy laughed. “You’re more dramatic than your sister, you know that?”
“Hey!” I gave her an affronted, wide-eyed look. “That’s not true, and you know it.”