Chapter 3

Shelley Ordwell had slipped into a thin, short smock after her shower, wanting only to wear something to keep her butt from sticking to the leather of the bar stool. When Rhoda and Ross left the cottage, she met Jack Cartwright's gaze of frankly lustful admiration with a hot, feral glance of her own.

"Aren't you miserably warm in those Bermudas, Jack?" she asked. Her fingers stole to the belt, unfastened it, then unzipped the fly for him. He grinned as he slid off the stool and let the shorts fall around his ankles. He stepped out of them and peeled off his athletic briefs. Shelley wet her lips as the huge, hard cock sprang out to point at her, throbbing and pulsing with eagerness.

"Here... or at the beach?" Jack queried.

"Rhoda may have forgotten why we girls call it Sandy Slit Lake amongst ourselves," Shelley replied. "I haven't. And I'm too hot to waste time running for a beach towel." She dropped to her knees and embraced his hairy thighs. Her lips found the swollen, purplish head of his prick and slid over it wetly, warmly, to slide all the way down the shaft. The tip was buried in her throat.

"Shel, baby!" Jack groaned. "Don't warm it up too much! I want to blast that first load into your cunt!"

Shelley fucked him with her mouth briefly, then withdrew her lips. The erect shaft bobbed wetly in the air as it was released. Shelley's tits jiggled and bounced just as vibrantly as she sank backward to sit on her heels with a jerk.

Jack knelt to face her, then forced her on back until she lay on the carpeting. His mouth found her tits, sucked at first one nipple, then the other, until they were swollen and dark with the engorgement of her rapidly circulating blood.

He mouthed an entire boob, kneading it with his lips, and Shelley squealed delightedly. For several minutes he toyed with her tits, then abruptly ducked downward and licked into the wet furrow of her blonde-feathered cunt. She gasped and drew her legs tightly up against her tits as he mouthed her hot snatch suckingly.

"Oohhh! Bring me off, Jack!" she cried. "I'm almost there!"

He nibbled her clit and vacuumed its succulence powerfully with his lips. Shelley let out a wild shriek and jerked convulsively under him. Her violent movement pulled her cunt from his mouth and he leaned back, her juices tasty on his lips and tongue.

The widened slit of her cunt was open in complete vulnerability; the inner lips surrounding her hole darkened with the sex flush of ultimate excitement. The cunt mouth seemed to open and close slightly, and bubbling moisture oozed from the gap.

Jack gave an animal grunt and thrust the tip of his cock into the quivering hole. He eased it slowly up her swat, feeling the hot, wet folds of her sheath part and expand as the nose of his prick plowed them aside. They surrounded the shaft, enfolded it, and then he was in to the hairy sac of his balls.

"Fuck me fast, Jack!" she begged. "I'm still coming!"

He drove at her with hard, swift thrusts, living in actuality the enjoyment he had anticipated for a long time. Shelley Ordwell was one of the greatest fucks he had ever encountered; she genuinely loved to be screwed, and her entire being entered into it! He and Rhoda had been swapping with the Ordwells for quite some time, but he had not had nearly enough of her over the long haul. It was unfortunate that he had other commitments, but when he got to slip his cock into the wet, bitchy cunt of this blonde minx, he made up for lost time!

He could feel her outer pussy lips kissing his balls at every inward stroke. And the upper contours of her innermost depths seemed to change rapidly. He sensed that her uterus was lowered around the sheath of her cunt, its donut-like mouth reaching into the tunnel for a taste of his jism.

He gave it to her. In potent, hot spurts, he exploded his cum into her snatch, feeling the contact of the womb opening as it dipped into the viscous offering of his gushes.

"Jack!" Shelley screamed. Her body jerked and writhed under him; her hands closed into fists and beat forcefully at the carpeted floor. Her head rolled from side to side with the extreme intensity of her rolling orgasmic sensations.

His final spurt oozed into her cunt slowly, and he took a deep breath as he leaned back, letting his cock slip out of her hole to drip its superfluous cum onto the carpeting.

Trickles and blobs ran from the gaping slit of her crotch to pool whitely on the dark, colorful nap below her. Her strenuous activity slowed until she lay quietly, panting and gasping.

Her body, like Jack's, was covered with a heavy dew of perspiration. After a moment, her ass lifted in a series of upward thrustings and she gurgled happily from the depths of her throat.

"Urghhhh!" she growled contentedly. "I've been fucked!" Her ass continued to toss, and its movements -- aided by the inner spasms that still contracted her cunt -- squirted out more blobs and trickles of his cum, thinned with the copious dilution of her own juices.

Jack cupped his smeary cock in his hands and went to the bathroom. When he returned, he built them each another drink. Shelley took her turn at cleaning up before studying the squares of adhesive-back carpet. Then she calmly peeled up three of them and took them to the back porch of the cottage.

She brought in three replacements squares and pressed them into the vacant spots. Her face was slightly flushed when she joined Jack at the bar.

"Now I could go for a swim and enjoy it," she told him.

"We might as well wait," Jack advised. "The beachniks will show up shortly, dried out from the sun and needing another dank. Then maybe we all can do with a dip."

Rhoda and Ross came inside, dripping from their quick swim, only seconds after Jack's prediction. He had drinks ready for them by the time they were seated at the bar, Ross' terry robe draped over their two stools; Rhoda tossed her sandy bikini on the floor and took several swallows of her drink before speaking.

"The water's great, you two! We're going back in for a real swim as soon as we have this drink. Still no cars on the other side of the lake, though."

"There's one in front of the McNally place," Shelley corrected her from the front window. Tom's, and he has Sandy with him. "Oh-oh! From the way our little girl's walking, I'd say she's just been laid."

Everyone rushed to look, but Cassandra had disappeared into the cottage with Tom. They went back to their drinks and discussed the teenage members of their tight little community. Opinion was divided, as was usual when they got into the subject, concerning the advisability of sexual permissiveness for the younger set.

"I'm not too fond of the idea, myself, as I've said before," Rhoda commented. "We've gone to a lot of trouble and expense to have complete privacy here. Letting those kids in on everything is risky, even if their parents condone it."

"You mean that they might feel more... loyalty or something... to their own generation?" Shelley asked. "That they might blab about what their 'decadent' parents do for recreation?"

"Something like that," Rhoda admitted. "It just makes me a little uneasy. Maybe I'm getting old or something."

"Balls!" her husband said. "You've always been edgy about anything that might disturb your plans. But I disagree with you. From what I've seen of those kids, they've been brought up with a better sense of values than the type you're worried about. They have too much pride in their parents and themselves to shit in their own nests."

"I'm afraid I have to disagree with you, too, Rhoda," Ross told her. "On both points. After that tumble we had on the beach, I'm inclined to think you're getting younger, if anything! And as far as the kids are concerned, it's been my observation that sex is best handled like smoking, drinking, and all the other things parents do admittedly.

"Expose them to it at home, teach them moderation and whatever else is indicated, and they're less likely to get into problems on their own."

"I haven't been too enthusiastic about having them here," Shelley admitted. "But I'll have to agree with Ross. We've seen both kinds of parents in swap groups, and the ones who supervise their kids in learning how to drink and how to approach sex seem to have the best kids in the long run... and the least problems with them."

"Well, I'm not going to be the 'wet-blanket' type of holdout," Rhoda promised. "But you'll pardon me if I don't lead any cheers over their presence here. I know I wasn't ready at sixteen to play funsies with adults. Of course, I'll admit I was brought up quite differently..."

"That's the point," Jack told her. "They were brought up differently."

As they began to talk once more about swimming, they heard a car roaring along the beach road on the other side of the lake. The four hurried into their bathing suits and rushed outside, but the McNallys and Lafayettes had disappeared into their cottages.

"Andy!" Denise Lafayette's voice was incapable of sharpness, but its urgent tone contrasted the downbeat pitch he was used to, so Andy rushed to the front window to stand beside his wife.

"Aren't they darling?" she asked him, holding the curtain aside just enough for peeking out. Andy saw his daughter and Tom McNally walking along the beach toward them, both as naked as the day they were born.

"Being prejudiced," he said, grinning, "I approve of that description for our girl, but I just can't agree to use the same adjective for a young man with a hunk of meat like that dangling from his crotch!"

"You know what this means, Andy. Dur and Coral sent them to us like this so we'd know that it's finally happened. As if I'd not be able to tell from Sandy's face. Did I have that radiant look, Andy... after you took my cherry?"

"Now that you mention it, there is something familiar about the look on her face. Part glow and part... embarrassment, was it?"

"Yes, damn you! And for that reason, be careful. Choose your words. They're both bound to be nervous. How would you have felt if your folks had sent you with me to see my parents in the nude?"

"You kooky broad! We weren't brought up the way Tom and Sandy were, and after all, he's not coming to ask for her hand in marriage. He's just escorting her home after deflowering her; the nude bit is pure parental whimsy. He's indulging it because they've convinced him it's the kind of symbolic honesty that will meet with our approval. Sandy, too. You'll have to admit that both of them have grit to go along with it!"