Chapter 7

Nina Marsdale received Eddie and Alyce Frampton at the door of their magnificent home with grace and tact, not revealing for an instant her wild adultery with Eddie. Her restraint was remarkable. She knew that she would get him into bed again before the night was over. She knew also that her husband, Clay would have Alyce. Where it would go from there was anyone's ballgame.

They moved easily into the crowded game room and were served drinks by the bartender that Alyce had seen at Nina's for her afternoon cocktail party. All of the tennis pros and members of the board of directors of Marina Tennis Clinics were there. Eddie, of course, knew all of them but Alyce had a little trouble recognizing some of them out of their usual tennis whites.

Alyce soon found herself talking to a buxom brunette with strikingly expressive brown eyes.

"I'm Zelda Watson," the brunette volunteered. "We met briefly the other afternoon at Nina's cocktail party. You're Alyce Frampton, aren't you?"

"Yes, Zelda, how are you," she said politely, noting that the older woman was slightly under the influence of alcohol. She was slurring her words but was speaking slowly to make herself understood.

"Nice party," Alyce offered. "I've never been in this part of the house. Is this the game room?"

Zelda glugged down the last of her drink and leaned closer to Alyce, lowering her voice, she whispered, "The real games rooms are upstairs in the bedrooms. That's where the most points are scored. "

"What games? What do you mean'?" Alyce asked naively.

A look of startled disbelief crossed Zelda's face. Her voice raised an octave. "Are you kidding? Don't you know? Is this your first party at the Marsdale's'?"

"Why yes, except for the other afternoon. Oh, I did have drinks over at Marina one afternoon waiting for Eddie..." Alyce said feeling a little uneasy for the first time.

"Well, babe, you'd better drink up. You're going to need it!"

"Why?" Alyce queried, still not fathoming what the woman was intimating.

Zelda moved so close to Alyce that her breath was almost burning her cheek. "When the people from the Marina get together it's not just to talk about tennis. This is a swap party. I thought everyone knew about it. Before the night is over you're going to be fucked and not by your husband. Your husband will be sticking it to someone else. Of course," she added, "You can watch if you prefer that. You get the picture, dearie?"

Alyce didn't answer for several moments her mind a mass of conflicting emotions. Her first impulse was to get up and run out but she was in too deeply now. Now not only was there the problem of Clay's having video-taped her husband and his own wife but there was now her own adultery as well. Oh why was life so confusing? She was just going to have to stay here and make the best of it.

"You mean to say all of these people here swap?"

The slightly drunk brunette nudged her suggestively. "You got it! They fuck their brains out actually!"

Just then a tall, silvery-haired man who was deeply tanned sat down on the other side of Zelda on the upholstered sofa. His quick familiarity with her led Alyce to believe that he must be Mr. Watson, but Zelda introduced him as Jeff Mitchell, one of the founders of Marina.

As Zelda had turned to talk animatedly with Jeff, Alyce was about to get up to move to another location when Clay Marsdale entered the room. He immediately called for attention.

"I want everyone to have a good time tonight and I'd like to introduce a new couple. Some of you have met them already but anyway here's Eddie and Alyce Frampton."

There was a round of applause as he continued, "We hope that they will enjoy their participation in our little get together."

Marsdale chuckled along with his guests after that comment.

The wealthy man went on, "We have a little entertainment tonight for you. We have some videotape you might enjoy. Lights, Jackie, please..."

Alyce noted just before the lights were extinguished that everyone seemed to be in couples but not with their own spouses. She wondered where Eddie was, but did not see him. She guessed then that he must be with Nina who was not in the room. That meant that she was supposed to be with Clay, she guessed. The Marsdale's must have arranged this, she decided.

Clay touched Alyce on the shoulder, then and motioned for her to come sit with him on a seat near the rear of the room so that he could run the equipment.

"Come on, baby," he said as she rose. "I want you beside me."

She followed him and sat primly on the seat. Clay sprawled down beside her.

He said in a hoarse whisper. "I'm glad you decided to come."

She didn't reply. Instead she turned her attention to the video screen where a tape showing what appeared to be an orgy on a tennis court unfold.

Marsdale handed her a drink. She automatically began to sip it, knowing that her reaction to it during the afternoon had been agreeable, and if she must go through with this second sexual encounter with Clay she might as well enjoy it. She really didn't like the man, but she couldn't help remembering that it was he who had given her such a tremendous climax... her first ever. She blushed, recalling the scene vividly, her actions, her words, the sensations that had throbbed through her.

Her attention was drawn back to the screen.

Suddenly a beautiful brunette flashed on the screen endowed with abundant charms. When she turns her face toward the camera everyone can see that it is Sally Dunn who works in the pro shop. There are appreciative murmurs from the people in the room. Clay had not touched Alyce up to this point. Now he put his arms around her and fondled a generous breast through her dress. He quickly withdrew his hand.

He said, "I hate brassieres. Let's get it off!"

So saying, he took her drink from her hand and set it aside; then he reached behind and deftly unzipped the back of her dress.

"Stop it. I won't undress in front of all these people," she hissed at him, furious because of the public intimacy.

"Cool it. Hold still. I'll show you in a second what to do," he ordered.

Swiftly, he unhooked the snaps in back, pushed the straps of the bra down over her shoulders, then, reaching up into the short sleeves he brought the straps down over her elbows, forearms and hands on each side. Reaching into the top of her dress, he smoothly slipped the lacy bra from her, the straps coming back through the armholes of the dress, the entire garment having been removed through the neck without removing her dress. As much as she hated the thought of being exposed in front of the others still in the room she had to admire the skill with which this man carried off the maneuver.

"Stuff this thing in your bag!" he croaked.

Embarrassed, she took the flimsy bra and stuffed it into her handbag.

He left the back of her dress unzipped, slipping his hand and arm around her, inside the dress, to a smooth, silken-skinned breast, where he stroked, fondled and kneaded her, the nipple becoming erect under his fingers, the tingling sensation becoming more pleasant with each passing moment. She began to feel light-headed, and guessed that her drink must be the cause of it. The action on the screen again attracted her attention.

The man Sally is with is seen to have his hand in Sally's moist crotch, his middle finger stroking her clitoris, her hips moving in opposition to his insistent probing finger. Now the camera returns to Sally's face. She is in the throes of orgasm, her face working, her mouth forming passionate words.

She relaxes with the delicious climax and slides from his lap to the floor. The camera plays over her nude body from all angles. Finally, coming back to the couch where the unknown man lies nude, an enormous, erect penis jutting upward like a stanchion.

He beckons to her, then reaches down to take his genitals in his hands. She crawls slitheringly across the floor to him, reaching the couch, she kneels over his cock, taking it into her hands to fondle it, sliding the foreskin back, reaching under to knead his testicles, and showing with a two-hand hold the tremendous length of him.

Now Sally kisses the end of his prick and takes it into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing in and out as she begins to suck on it. Slowly, she begins to slide her mouth up and down, her head bobbing, as with each down stroke she takes more and more of his lengthy tool into her mouth. The camera cuts to Sally's young face, then divulges her ecstasy at the lewd behavior.

Alyce felt suddenly ill as revulsion overcame her. She tried to free herself from Marsdale's grasp. She was very angry.

"I'm not going to watch this disgusting exhibition. "

Clay was quite calm. "Would you rather watch your husband's performance on the screen, then? We get around to all of us at one time or another. We like to be stars in our little galaxy here."

"You bastard!" she spat out.

Unperturbed, his mouth captured hers, his tongue invading her lashingly through the barrier of her teeth. He bore her backward until she was prone on the bench, his hand going under her skirt to caress her warm, smooth thighs, coming, finally to the softly curling genital mound. There he pulled down the front of her sheer panties and insinuated a finger into her moist, open slit. He found her tiny, enshrined clitoris and moved his finger on it, bringing the bud of her womanhood to erection.

"No Clay. Not here, please!" she gasped.

"Look around, sweetheart," he said. "Over there on the couch it would appear that Zelda is enjoying Jeff Mitchell to the fullest."

Alyce looked toward the couch. She saw Zelda leaning over the sprawling form of the older man. His zipper was undone and she had his long cock in her mouth, her head bobbing slowly up and down, her cheeks hollowing in and out as he sucked on the rigid, erectness of him.

"Dear Lord!" she exclaimed and averted her eyes.

"And over there, in the corner is Jeff's wife with Dave Carlson. He seems to be fucking her in the ass on the floor. Our only black tennis pro is eating out..."

"Stop it!" she hissed. She closed her eyes, covering them with her hands, trying to blot out the images she saw. It was too much for her... too depraved... filthy... perverted. "I thought Marina was an exclusive club. I never realized these people were like animals...

"Come on. You haven't seen anything. Upstairs in the bedrooms there's probably six or seven couples indulging themselves," he said matter-of-factly.

All during this time, Clay had stroked her clitoris affectionately, with feather like strokes of his fingers, and she began to move her buttocks in small circles against his hand, unable to control her urge to do so. The building up of the delicious sensations slashed at her, converging on that spot where his finger insistently rubbed and titillated her.

Alyce had not seen her husband for some time. Actually, soon after their arrival, he had seemed to disappear. She opened her eyes and looked about the dim room carefully. None of the men present seemed to resemble him in any way. She had some difficulty in recognizing anyone at all; almost every person in the room was engaged in some form of sexual activity.

Clay stood up. "I think it's time for you and I to go upstairs to really do things right."

He zipped up the back of her dress and pulled her to her feet. She rose reluctantly, his strong grip of her hand reminding her how badly he wanted her. She moved with him, leaving the screening room, unnoticed by any of the copulating couples. Together, they mounted the broad staircase to the second floor. Alyce's stomach fluttered with fear and a certain, strange anticipation that she could not define.

Checking at the various bedroom doors one by one, Marsdale ascertained that all of the bedrooms were filled with one or more couples and a few trios. Words and phrases drifted out to them along the unmistakable sounds of wild uninhibited fucking.

"Come into my study," he said. "I want to show you some pictures."

They stepped into the masculinely appointed study. She gasped. On the walls were pictures of couples in lewd poses. She recognized many of the people in the pictures. Most of them were in this house now, engaged in illicit sex. The photos turned her stomach. They were explicit in detail and no depravity had escaped Clay's camera.

Then, a completely inexplicable thing occurred in the young wife. The drinks, the digital stimulation of her breasts and clitoris, the lewd videotape, the salacious pictures on the wall, the knowledge that this man wanted her sexually, and her own need all combined suddenly to give her the most erotic and sudden urge she had ever experienced.

She felt the moistness between her legs, the keening sensations that coiled and recoiled inside her, striking her there violently, surging out along her nerve endings only to return throbbingly, to her innermost womanly parts, and she knew that she was becoming more and more ready for anything. She noticed the bulge in Marsdale's trousers, and she knew that he, too, was more than ready; however, she averted her eyes, not daring to look, to admit to herself that she could possibly be interested in his sexual organs.

He came to her and put his arms around her, slipping his hands down to cup her buttocks and pull her flaming loins close in to him, grinding his hard penis into her.

"I want to show you one last thing," he said.

Reaching over and behind her, he snapped out the lights and pushed aside his books on a bookshelf, revealing a lighted bedroom beyond a glass mirror.

"It's a one-way mirror," he enlightened.

Alyce's eyes were riveted on the bed. She couldn't help watching, now, as she gazed with increasing interest and curiosity, trying to make out details in the softly lighted room.

Her view was from the foot of the bed, and she could see that there was a man and woman on the bed, their limbs entertwined, the man above, the woman on her back, her legs flexed upward and drawn back toward her chest. She could see the thick cock inserted, deeply, in the woman's glistening, wet cunt, spreading the soft folds of her furrow, the brown, round anus, darkly, below, the balls of the man hanging down from between muscular and hairy legs. The man withdrew, slowly, until she could see, clearly, the under side of the glans.

Then, he plunged the monstrous prick straight into the small woman and she imagined that she could hear the slap of their pelvises as the thick, rock-hard rod of flesh went in, burying its length completely in the soft, female flesh.

The young wife was now aware that Clay was grinding his pelvis into her loins, his cock sticking out from his trousers, as he tried to shove it between her legs, and unconsciously, she found herself responding to his obscene caress, sliding her pelvis up and down on him through the rough cloth of his trousers.

"Do you want to hear what they're saying?" he asked.

He reached up beside the books again and snapped a switch, not waiting for her to make up her mind. A speaker inside the bookshelf amplified the sound of the low voices from the bedroom.

"Oh, Eddie," the woman said. "Fill my cunt with your cock... mmmmmmmmm... it's so big... so hard..."

Alyce gasped, reddening and turned her head away from the lewd spectacle.

"Is that my husband?" she asked, weakly sagging in his arms, "with your wife?"

Marsdale held her tight. "Let's wait and see."

Now the man's voice was heard. "Nina, baby... I fit so well in you... your cunt is so juicy... I love my cock inside you..."

Marsdale reached behind her and snapped the lights back on in his study. Instantly, the scene in the adjoining bedroom was blotted out, and she realized that one of the properties of a one-way mirror was that the viewer be in semi-darkness.

Reaching up behind her, Clay gripped the zipper of her dress and pulled, down smoothly. Then, grasping the hem of her dress he began to pull the garment over her head

"Not here..." she gasped.

"Why not. It's just as good a place as any," he said.

He flung her dress to the back of a chair, reached for her and clamped wet lips to a puckering, pink nipple, taking the whole aureola into his mouth and sucking on it, using his teeth to nip at the rapidly hardening flesh. Then, he paid tribute to its mate, as he kneaded her soft, mounding femaleness in his rough hands.

Now, he slid his hands behind her, slipping one hand inside her panties to fondle and knead her smooth, round buttocks; then, with a deft movement he stripped the thin, nylon garment down over her tapering thighs to her trim ankles.

Alyce stepped out of her shoes and he stooped down to remove the sheer underclothing from her feet, sailing it across the room to join her dress. She was now completely nude before him, stripped of all her barriers.

Instantly, his finger began taunting her sensitive clitoris, and Alyce gasped with the ecstasy of it, in spite of herself. Her body was beginning to feel, blazingly, on fire, a fire that could not be extinguished, a fire that threatened to consume her and she could do nothing.

Stepping back from her, Marsdale began to remove his own clothing, deliberately, methodically. Soon, he too was naked, his enormous cock standing out thick and long before him, blood-engorged and throbbing with the passion of his need for her.

Alyce stared. She was horror stricken. The size of him was mammoth. She couldn't believe her eyes, yet she knew that he had rammed that giant hunk of meat into her little cunt this very afternoon. She had taken all of it into her and had loved every minute of it!

"Here, dear, I'll put a blanket on my desk," he said when suddenly a familiar sing-song voice came into the room over the amplifier.

"Shove your fingers in my asshole! Make me cum, Eddie!"

Alyce turned to Nina's husband, pleadingly. "Turn it off. I can't bear listening to that."

"But my dear it's wonderfully erotic. Nina is a fabulous woman in the sack. She just loves to get fucked in the ass," he said nonchalantly as though he was talking about her love of French cuisine or foreign films.

"Lie down on my desk top!" he ordered.

Alyce complied sick at heart a complete feeling of hopelessness in her.

Eddie's boss clambered to the desk top, placing himself over her, in reverse, with his thick, hardened prick over her face, his legs spread on either side of her head.