Chapter 7

Tom was sitting on the front porch, waiting for Sandy on the beach for their morning walk. He studied the sky and decided that it would be sunny the rest of the day; the brief shower that had passed over in the early morning had wet things good, but everything appeared to have dried out.

He heard his mother come onto the porch, and he turned to look at her. Coral was holding out a raincoat toward him. He felt a momentary irritation; he thought he had outgrown the "don't-forget-your-raincoat-and-rubbers" routine. But he relaxed when he saw that the garment was not his.

"Would you drop this off for Dur?" she said. "And thank Shelley for me. If she hadn't insisted on his wearing it home this morning, he might have caught pneumonia. That was cold rain while it lasted."

"Sure thing, Green Eyes," he said, taking the raincoat from her and giving her a kiss. "You won't forget peanut butter while you're at the market?"

"No. And don't you forget your snakebite kit if you do any more exploring today!"

Tom would have mentioned the lack of pockets in his birthday suit, but he saw Sandy appear on her porch, so he merely grunted an affirmative, waved, and jumped from his porch railing to the beach. He ran to meet her, raincoat trailing behind him and long cock swinging and slapping his thighs as he coursed over the sand.

They met halfway between the two cottages. Tom explained the raincoat, and they started walking around the south end of the lake to deliver it. The Cartwrights were swimming near the west dock as they approached the Ordwell cottage. After the raincoat and menage of thanks were delivered, Tom rushed to get away; Shelley's pink slit shone wetly through her blonde bush, and he was about to get a hard-on. He hurried Sandy back the way they had come.

Jack and Rhoda, back Mom their swim, were hanging their wet suits on their porch railing to dry. Tom would have passed on after waving, but Jack motioned for them to stop by, so they detoured.

"Come in for a bit," Rhoda invited. "We need you to help drink lemonade. I made too much. You can have it plain or spiked."

They followed her inside and accepted lemonade. Both of them took it straight, as did Rhoda. Jack spiked his with vodka. They sat in the casual chairs around the living room as they drank.

Sandy kept her legs demurely crossed. She was sport enough to go along with the idea of turning Harp Lake into a private nudist camp, but she was still self-conscious about exposing her crotch any more than was necessary.

In contrast, Rhoda was anything but modest about the casual exposure of her pussy, shifting position carelessly all the time. Tom, having acquired the taste during his "peeping" days, found it impossible not to feast his eyes at every opportunity, and Rhoda was well aware of the reason for his frequent lip-licking and the seeming discomfort that made him keep his hands in his lap.

"Sandy," Rhoda said, "Denise tells me you have great taste in decorating. Would you see if you can think up something to do to the wall in my bedroom? Show her the clock, Jack. Maybe she can give us some ideas."

Jack took Sandy into the master bedroom, and Rhoda hoped he could stall the girl for several minutes. She held out her glass toward Tom and smiled petulantly.

"Would you pour for me this time?" she asked. Tom had to get to his feet and use both hands to take their glasses to the bar. As she had suspected, he had the beginnings of a hard-on. When he came back with her lemonade, she managed to have her cunt split widely and smiling at him from her crotch.

His cock jerked slightly as he saw the juicy flesh of her uniquely flared swat. When she took her lemonade from him, her other hand slid up his thigh and she patted his ass warmly.

"Thanks, Tom," she said. "There's nothing like having something tall and wet to suck on." At the word "suck" his prick made another jump; she had emphasized the one word with a Mae West sultriness that he could not misunderstand.

"Christ, Rhoda," he protested. "I wish you wouldn't tease me like that. It's tough enough just looking at you... with all of us naked as jay birds."

"Tough?" she asked. "Am I that unattractive?" She shifted her position again, tits jiggling excitingly, and her cunt seemed to blossom outward still more. He had an unholy desire to fix his mouth wetly on those flared cuntlips and suck the cream out of her snatch until she screamed her surrender.

"Of course not," he replied. "But I'll look pretty foolish, running around the area with a perpetual boner, just because you women excite me and I can't help showing it."

"Let me tell you something," she said. "Any woman at Harp Lake that says she thinks there's anything foolish about a perpetual hard-on, is either lying or delirious. And if I've made you uncomfortable, I'm more than willing to soothe away the discomfort."

She held her arms open to him, and Tom felt the beginnings of anger stirring inside him at what he thought was a belated maternal concern on Rhoda's part. Then he saw that her legs were opening to him, also, and he swallowed hard as he saw her hang her knees over the low arms of the chair. It stretched her twat into a ripe melon of compelling beauty.

His cock was suddenly erect and throbbing, and Rhoda was ready for him to charge her like a young bull and stuff the rigid prick into her pulsing cunt. But Tom dropped to his knees and buried his mouth in the luscious offering, licking into her moist cunt flesh with the impetuous hunger of youth.

Her scent drove him completely cunt-crazy. The mature woman smell of her juice was a heady appetizer that made him want to eat her box endlessly. He nibbled at the thick lips, sucked up the juice that covered her entire swat, and found her clit stiff and ready for his lips.

He milked the perky little bud with his lips, then twitted it with his tongue. Rhoda's whimpers rippled into the air above him, and her ass began a gentle, rhythmic movement on the seat of her chair.

"Tom!" she whispered. "Oh, suck it, lover!"

He seized her clit in his lips again, then sucked it hard. Rhoda gasped, moaned, and increased the rhythm of her ass movement. Tom gave the little fleshling a nibble, then several fast sucks that made her cry out in joy.

She was creaming steadily, and Tom wanted to capture the exciting dew before it trickled away and became lost. But he stayed with her clit, nibbling and twitting it, milking it with his lips, and grabbing frequent sucks that rapidly drove Rhoda to the top of her mountain of happiness.

"Suck it hard, Tom!" she moaned suddenly. He felt her thigh muscles tense as he clamped his lips around the base of her clit and vacuumed it fiercely. She squealed as her body convulsed, and Tom shoved his tongue into her hole and fucked her rapidly as she moaned her finale.

He gave her no rest, but pressed the head of his cock into her dripping cunt and felt it slide into her hot snatch. He drove it up her hole and felt his balls press into the wet flesh of her ass.

"Oh, yes!" she moaned. "Fuck me fast... while I'm still coming!"

"God but it feels good in there!" Tom told her. "Squishly and jumping around!"

He stroked into her twat with all his might, feeling the heated, wet gutsiness of her sheath convulsing around his dick as he screwed. He varied his strokes, just to be sure he could feel with his cock every nook and cranny of her cunt. He would give swift lime fucks near the entrance, then plunge in all the way and give her two or three long strokes.

Rhoda was having a series of minor orgasmic spasms, gasping and moaning regularly. Then she was seized in the powerful grasp of her absolute climax. She shrieked and shook beneath Tom as he fucked into her for the final thrust.

He squirted hotly into her cunt as she convulsed, and the tight milkings of her sheath drew out his last shots. He stayed in her until she became relatively calm; then he pulled out and hurried into the bathroom.

As he passed the door of the master bedroom, he noticed that it was closed. As he pissed loudly into the toilet bowl, then rinsed off his prick and balls and thighs and toweled them dry with a guest towel, he wondered if Sandy might not be giving Jack something more than decorating ideas!

When Sandy heard Rhoda's request for suggestions, she thought it sounded a little insincere, if not entirely patronizing. When the brunette asked her husband to show Sandy the room, instead of conducting the tour herself, the thing became downright phony.

But Sandy went along with the game for two reasons. She was instinctively a good sport about most things, even when it bugged her to do so. But today she had another reason for allowing herself to be made sport of.

For the first sixteen years of her life, Sandy had lived in a social environment where both the human body and its attempts at sexual gratification were kept under wraps. She had been provided with the best texts and illustrated works on sex, but not until now had she met up with male anatomy at close range.

And her first taste of real man-and-woman juice-swapping had whetted her appetite for more and varied experience. She was grateful to Tom for breaking her in, and she preferred his company to that of the older group. But with the three other males eyeing her nudity and obviously desiring her, she had known that it was only a matter of time before one of the horny swappers made a pitch. And she thought she might just take the first proposition that appealed to her, if only to satisfy her curiosity.

As Jack ushered her into the bedroom, Sandy had a premonition that she was about to receive another initiation. He closed the door, then faced the wall into which it was installed. Sandy saw a grotesquely over-ornamented clock, a hand-carved monstrosity she knew belonged to either the baroque or rococo period. It was the only item on the wall, and understandably so.

She walked closer to it, which placed her near the head of the huge bed, and stared for a moment, not really believing that anyone would want such a thing in their house, especially in a room intended for rest. She was at a loss for words, so she just sat on the edge of the bed.

"Well?" Jack's voice was questioning, but it had an amused tone.

"Does she want to replace it... or just hide it?" Sandy finally said in a burst of honesty.

Jack laughed heartily and she found herself laughing with him. He moved to the bed and sat beside her, and for a few seconds the bed trembled with their mirth.

"She'd like to get rid of it," he said. "But it's a wedding present from a sensitive aunt of hers. She has to use it either here or at home, and she'd rather die than hang it down there!

"What the hell," Jack said, grinning at her charmingly. "You were honest with me, Sandy." He took a deep breath, looked her in the eye, and let his grin grow a bit sheepish. She noticed that his gaze also wandered from her eye to travel all over her body.