Chapter 14

Tessa & Danny

"Danny, I ran into Margie at the supermarket today and she all but ignored me after I told her we wouldn't be going to anymore parties."

"That's odd; you had mentioned what happened at the last one, didn't you?"

"Of course, and if you recall, that's the very same reason she grabbed Vince and made him leave the previous time. I was under the impression she'd found it intensely gross."

"Not so, huh?"

"Worse! She and Vince appear to be bound at the hip with the Lambert's."

"The Lambert's? They were all but asked to leave that party and now ... now Vince and Margie are partying with them?"

"That's what she told me. And what's more she told me that as far as we're concerned, unless we change our minds and ask to come to one of the Lambert's parties, she won't have anything to do with us."

"Does that include Vince?"

"I don't know. You work together, maybe you should ask him."

"Yeah, I will."

The following evening over dinner, Danny confirmed that Margie and Vince had decided to cut off their friendship unless they were willing to attend the Lambert's parties.

"That's blackmail!" Tessa said, unable to accept that they'd been cut off by their long time friends, and lovers.

Tessa began to cry. Danny, trying to comfort his wife, suggested that they reconsider and attend one of the Lambert's parties.

"No way! He's a son-of-a-bitch and a deviate. If that's the way she wants it between us, so be it. We'll find another couple to be friends with."

Danny suddenly had the image of Stan Gronski's wife flash before his eyes. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you how you felt about Stan and his wife ... I can't recall her name. We met them coming out of the movies about a month ago. You seemed to think they were all right. I mean, I know we only chatted for five minutes or so, but..."

"You're right. They did seem nice. Not that I'm physically attracted to him. Are you ... to her, I mean?"

"Not especially. She looked nice enough ... but I didn't want to jump her bones on the spot," he said sheepishly.

Tessa laughed. "I know you, Danny. If you think she attractive, you would jump her bones. But you have given me something to think about. You can talk with Stan about anything, maybe find out when they're going out and we might 'happen' to run into them."

"Okay, I'll get on it."

"You do that, and Danny, lover?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Fuck Margie and Vince."

"Literally or figuratively?"

"No, I mean just fuck 'em as friends."

Marge & Vince

For Margie, the night at the Lambert's had been like a vivid dream, but she knew all too well that it was real ... it had certainly happened. She had relished the smells ... Milford's sweaty scent that remained in her mind, and the more tangible odor produced by the dried remnants of semen on the panties she'd worn that night and had been unable to throw in the washer, preferring to inhale his pungent odor several times a day.

She couldn't get his cock out of her mind, and this concerned her, for she was certain she still loved Vince, and Vince possessed a formidable penis that never failed to please her.

Vince was also bothered by his perceived need to possess Carol again. He hadn't felt this way about Tessa, although it had been Tessa that he coveted so much that he'd formed the alliance with Danny in order to have her. He told himself that Carol was different, but he was unable to differentiate just how she was different than his wife, or even Tessa.

Sunday morning Vince went off to play golf with Danny, leaving Margie alone with their daughter, Tabby. Margie was content to be by herself for a while, but was pleasantly surprised when Carol Lambert dropped by.

She was sprawled on one of Margie's kitchen chairs by the time Margie had closed the door and walked back up the hallway. Her eyebrows were raised at Carol's manner.

Margie handed Carol a cup of freshly made coffee, and asked bluntly, "To what do I owe the honor of your visit, Carol?"

"I wanted to discuss this Friday night's gathering."

"Oh, will it be more than Milford and you?'

"Oh yes, in fact, Milford has gone out of his way to make it a bigger party."

"I'm not sure I like that idea," Margie said sitting down next to Carol.

Carol nodded and took a sip of coffee. "Are you mad at us for expanding the number of people?"

"Honestly I'm not sure yet."

"You're thinking, 'I'm not a slut like Carol, how dare they treat me like one?' Am I right?"

Maggie laughed, and felt her body flush as she recalled all the things she'd done so willingly with Carol's husband that fateful night.

"Not exactly; I don't mind doing nearly everything with Milford. I wonder how I'll feel doing those things with other men. Men I have no knowledge of, and may never see again, or worse, who I might run into at an inopportune moment."

"All our guests are known to be respectful of others, especially under circumstances such as you just described."

"Really and how is it enforced?"

"Are you familiar with the basic rules of BDSM?"

"I'd say no. I have an idea, but it's just that."

"Respect, permission, and choice; should you want to end a session, you simply say so, using the safe word. For the sake of this discussion let's just use Stop as our safe word."

"Stop," Margie said, enjoying the feel of the word rolling off her tongue.

"Precisely, Margie, say the word and everything stops. We don't throw anything goes parties; they're more like anything may go parties. Look, I've been shackled on hands and knees and sucking every cock in the room while being spanked and told what a nasty whore I am. It makes me feel good to let go occasionally."

"Should I be worried that that image didn't make me cringe?" Margie asked the concern evident on her face.

"I think you should know your limits. But how do you know what they are without some experimentation?"

"I thought your husband and I did quite a bit of ... experimenting the other night."

"Perhaps you did, but you actually only skimmed the cream off the top."

"I've fooled around with other couples, you know."

"Yes, Don and Tessa, that's fine, but still somewhat limited. The more people you have intercourse with, the more knowledge acquired. It's that simple."

Carol finished her coffee while Margie's mind was trying to work out where her metaphors had been going, and took refuge in the fairly automatic process of refilling it.

She sat down again, and leaned forward with a calculated air of being about to speak. Carol let her.

"Look, Carol," she said. "You know I like and respect you and Milford. But what I want to know is where the hell are you going with this?"

Carol ignored her coffee and gave her a hard look. "Margie, you need to do this. Believe me; you really need to do it."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Look," Carol responded, revealing a touch of exasperation, "we only intend on having three couples over."

"Do I know the others?"

"I think not. Do you know the Radford's, Ginger and Bobbie?"

"No."

"How about the Wheaton's, Mavis and Tex?"

"No, not them either," Margie admitted.

"And there may be another man invited. One can never have too many of them, don't you agree?"

"I guess, if one wants to be well fucked," Margie conceded. "Who would that be?"

"I don't know. Milford's got someone in mind, but he hasn't told me."

Margie sat back and stared at her, properly speechless, until Carol raised an eyebrow at her and said "Well?" in a meaningful tone of voice.

Margie finally found her voice. "Can I get back to you?" she asked in a squeaky voice.

Carol shrugged, and picked up her mug. "Sure. Just let me know by Thursday. Give me time to plan a few things."

Carol stayed to chat about everything but sex for another half hour, and Margie was feeling the need to be with Milford more than ever by the time Carol left. Then she called Vince.

On Friday, they went to the Lambert's party with great expectations. Vince at the thought of not only screwing the voluptuous Carol again, but two other women who promised to be as attractive, or nearly so, as Carol herself.

And Margie, who could not get Milford's magnificent cock out of her mind. To her way of thinking, after Carol's comments, to enjoy Lambert's skilled lovemaking again, she would lay down with almost anyone. And Carol had all but assured her she would find the other men to her liking as well.

"Oh, that should be worth some points! The ash blonde in the red dress was saying as several others laughed, while Lambert showed Margie and Vince into his living room.

Most heads were looking at the skinny redhead who was reading the questions.

"Her name is Mavis, honey," Carol whispered to Vince on seeing his sudden interest in the redhead when she leaned forward and revealed an excessive amount of cleavage to her audience.

"Oh, really? Thanks, Carol," Vince replied, already busily devouring the redhead's breasts with his eyes.

"She's from Texas. Her man is in the oil business, or so I'm told."

"Think they're real, hon?" Vince inquired of his less interested spouse.

"She's had work done. I'm almost positive, Vince baby. Now tell me what you know about her husband. He's that tall gentleman in the black suit."

"Oh, Tex ... all I know is he's supposed to be very good with the ladies. But isn't, or should I say, aren't all the men here in that category?"

Margie laughed, "You wish!" she said still laughing. But her eyes glittered lewdly at the thought.

"Aw," Carol said to Bobbie Radford, "I was looking forward to hearing you talk dirty. It sounds so much better coming from a man with a Texas drawl." Her voice was brittle and too bright: Vince realized that she was drunk, and Milford was no longer in the room.

Bobbie touched her arm. "You okay, Missy?"

"I'm fine," Carol replied. He shrugged. He could hardly force her to talk about her problems. Probably it was just the booze; he knew it had been a rough week financially for the Lambert's. Ostensibly, that was the reason he and his wife, Ginger were at the party.

He gave Carol a quick hug, and whispered in her ear, "It will be all right. I'm going to help Milford through this, don't worry about it."

She whispered back, "Bobbie darling, I appreciate that."She glanced around the room. "Bobbie, any woman you want. Just point her out to me."

He pulled her close, crushing her generous breasts against his chest, and let his hand rove over her rear until he found the cleft of her ass and then he goosed her.

With a small shriek, Carol pulled away. "That's not nice!" she said to cover her embarrassment as almost everyone else laughed at her expense.

A few minutes later everyone was seated for dinner. Vince grinned at Margie from one end of the table. To his left sat Ginger Radford, and to his right was Mavis Wheaton. Their husband's Bobbie and Tex sat on either side of Carol and Margie.

Milford played the role of butler, serving each person in turn and then sitting in an arm chair to eat by himself.

Vince learned that Milford had been close friends with the others for several years; both in business ventures and on a personal basis.

Carol joined the others in laughing appreciatively at one of her husband's jokes. Of course the jokes followed a planned progression in that they got dirtier as the dinner wore on. But then that was the way it always was at these get togethers. That and the outrageous flirting that all the women appeared to relish.

Margie was pleased to see that both Tex and Bobbie were in good physical shape. In fact, had she not been so enamored with Milford, she might have been delighted to spend some time alone with either of the others.

Margie was promptly reminded of those feelings shortly after dessert when Tex said, "Margie, that dress you are wearing is so tempting."

"I'll second that!" Bobbie laughed.

"Well you know what they say don't you?" Vince chuckled.

"What do they say?" Margie asked with a giggle.

"That you should always give in to temptation," Milford laughed intercepting Vince's punch line.

Margie glanced over at her husband, who grinned then winked at her.

A moment later, Carol whispered in Margie's ear as she passed out another round of drinks. "Getting turned on by all the testosterone in the room?"

Margie nodded, but said nothing. Carol laughed and moved on to Ginger, whispering in her ear as well. Margie wondered if she had asked the same question of her, or had she posed a different one, and if so, what had it been?

A while later, Margie was helping Milford Lambert clear away the empty dinner plates and glasses.

"Wherever did Carol go?" she inquired, already thinking that she hadn't seen Tex for a while either.

Lambert's left hand came to rest on her rear-end and gave it a light squeeze.

"Milford!" she protested for appearances sake, and then remembered why she and the others were there.

"Are you turned on, my little Margie?" he grinned as they finished with the chore. "Been thinking about 'temptation?'"

"As a matter of fact..." she smiled and glanced down at the bulge in his trousers.

"Yes," he replied, "I can see that you have. You're a little minx, aren't you?"

"Sometimes I really am, Mr. Lambert."

He laughed then raised an eyebrow.

"Would tonight be one of those times?" he asked quietly, and added, "If the opportunity arose?"

"I would say yes to both questions, Mr. Lambert," and let her hand lightly brush against his now prominent bulge; and then giggling to herself, left him to take a seat on the couch where Mavis sat next to Vince, expecting him to join her.

A slow song came on from the CD player, and Bobbie took Carol's hand and led her onto the dance floor, stopping short of bumping into his wife and Tex Wheaton, who were swallowing each other's tongue. They broke apart as he shouted, "Excuse me," and Tex nodded at Bobbie who smiled back and resumed kissing Ginger Radford.

"You Texas guys are something special," Carol whispered into Bobbie's ear.

"Well, we ain't all hung like horses, ' he said with a smile.

"But you and Tex are," Carol said, smiling back at him.

"True dat," he said, adding, and we's white boys at that."

Laughing, she hit him on the chest, saying, "Behave yourself, that's not nice."

"I know I just wanted to try my Ebonics out on you."

"Well you did, now please don't do it again."

The party's started; Margie thought as Milford finally joined her on the couch and let his hand discreetly drop onto her lap. A moment later she felt his middle finger, tickling her cuntal slit through her dress.

A moment later, Carol and Tex sauntered back into the living room. Margie noted that Carol's lipstick was almost worn off and her bra had disappeared while she was with Tex in another room.

Carol sank down into the couch and settled back against Tex. Her breasts seemed to come alive under her sheer white blouse, jiggling and swaying; her nipples a pair of dancing smudges, clearly visible in the dim light through the thin material.

Mavis laughed loudly then looked at Margie with a broad grin when Milford started telling them how he had touched her up at their previous meeting.

"Poor Marge here nearly jumped out of her chair when I put my hand under the table and slid my hand up her leg." Milford was saying. "Mind you, once she realized what I was up to, she just opened up and enjoyed it. Didn't you, darling?"

Seeing no alternative, Margie shot back, "You're damn right, it was one hell of a turn on."

As Milford continued with his tale of that exciting evening, Margie felt a light touch on her shoulder and glanced back to see Bobbie and Mavis standing behind the couch. It had been Bobbie who had tapped her shoulder.

"Yes?" Margie said, wondering why he'd touched her shoulder.

"Pardon us," Mavis said, but you have such beautiful breasts, we were wondering if you'd display them for us? I'll be only too happy to show you mine."

"And," Bobbie laughed, "I'd be delighted to show you mine as well. Oops, I didn't mean my breasts though..."

"Never mind," Margie laughed. "But I don't think I'll put my babies on display."

"Just yet," Milford added and got a big laugh from everyone listening.

Margie felt a glow of excitement heating up between her legs and gave Bobbie her best smile, "But when I do put them on display, Bobbie, sweetie, you'll be the first to see 'em," she purred.

"What!" Milford blurted, feigning anger over being passed by as the first to see her breasts.

"That's right, honey," Carol called over, "Pigs before swine, but it's a really close call."

Everyone, including Milford and Bobbie roared their approval at her apt remark. Moments later, Bobbie and Mavis joined them on the couch, with Bobbie bookending Margie between himself and Lambert.

As the laughter died down, Lambert's hand began roving the length of Margie's leg, and since she made no objection, he went even further, slipping through the slit and coming to rest on Margie's leg at the point her thigh high stocking ended.

Margie drew in her breath a moment later when a second hand found its way under her dress. Before venturing a look at what had to be Bobbie, she glanced over at her husband and made eye contact with Carol, who raised her eyebrows in reply.

"Having fun?" Milford whispered, leaning a little closer to Margie.

"So far." she replied with a smile.

"You'd have even more fun," Bobbie said softly on the other side of her "if you let yourself open up."

"Perhaps you should pay more attention to the lady sitting next to you," she said coolly, hoping he would. Still, she took his suggestion to heart and widened her legs a few inches and immediately felt Milford's hand approach her pussy.

"You three are awfully quiet." Mavis commented off-handedly. Then seeing where their hands were, "Why not yank her dress up around her hips, guys?"

Guiltily, Margie tried to close her legs, but neither Milford nor Bobbie were about to let her do it; in fact, they pried her legs further apart, with Lambert actually sending a finger into her sopping wet pussy.

"Ohhhh!" Margie exclaimed.

"Milford's a master at work," Bobbie chirped and Mavis started to giggle.

"She is worked up," Mavis said. "I can smell her arousal!"

Milford laughed and stood up. "Back in a minute," he said and left the room.

Margie was about as embarrassed as she'd ever been in her life, but couldn't bring herself to remove the hand that was fingering her openly. Her dress was now over the tops of her thigh-highs. Anyone interested in looking up her dress could do so with relative ease.

Mavis laughed lewdly and said, "Bobbie, why not lower her top? You said earlier you wanted to see her boobs, babies, I recall Margie calling them,"

Ignoring her comment, Margie turned to her husband and said, "Ask her to dance, Vince, I'm waiting for Milford to get back. He'll only be another minute or so."

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not. Just don't jump her bones too fast; she's so thin she might fall apart."

"Think she's anorexic?"

"It's possible, but I'd like to know if I'm right about her boobs."

"What about her boob's?" Vince asked as he stared at Mavis Wheaton's chest.

"Duh, didn't I just finish telling you I thought they'd had some work?"

"Oh ... right, you did. Um, I'm going to ask her," he said, obviously mesmerized by Mavis' breasts.

Vince left his wife sitting on the couch and approached Mavis Wheaton.

"Care to dance?"

"All right, the skinny redhead replied, "but it's almost over."

"I'm sure another tune will follow," Vince replied as he took her in his arms and began to sway to the music.

The thin red strap of her dress slid down her left shoulder, in stark contrast to her pale skin. Mavis shrugged up that shoulder and the strap found its way back to its proper place. Vince thought he saw her breasts sway just a bit more-- Mavis leaned her head back and looked at Vince, the movement accentuated her breasts even more and she followed up by smoothing her dress so that his attention was slowly drawn downward to her pussy.

A drop of sweat ran from his hairline, down his forehead. Mavis threw her arms around Vince and sensuously licked the drop of perspiration from his brow with her pink tongue.

Milford returned carrying a small package, and made his way past his wife, Carol, who was sitting next to Tex Wheaton with her hand on his thigh. He leaned in and gave her a perfunctory peck on the cheek and whispered something into Wheaton's right ear.

As he turned toward Margie, Wheaton sent his left hand into Carol's bodice and brought her breast out into view.

Milford sat next to Margie and, placing the package on the table in front of them, pulled her to him and sent his tongue so far into her mouth that Margie thought he might be performing a tonsillectomy on her.

In the center of the living room Vince placed his palms against the reed thin, Mavis' hips and enjoyed the feel of her hipbones sway under his hands.

"Move them higher, I think you'll enjoy it more," she whispered huskily into his ear.

He brushed his fingertips across the silky fabric of her dress, felt what had to be the underside of a pair of fantastic tits and explored further, his fingers tingling as Mavis' nipples stiffened under his touch.

Beneath the sounds of the music and his breathing, he was aware of people murmuring. He registered the fact then ignored it as Mavis dropped her hands to his ass and pulled his hips in tight. His right thigh fit nicely between her legs; he slid one hand down her back, scraping his thumbnail along the cloth, until his thumb was hooked comfortably into the cleft of her jutting ass through the dress. Mavis moaned into his mouth as he tasted the sweetness of her lips. He smelled her, musky and warm, and when he pulled back to look at her he saw her eyes were half-closed, and he decided to lick her lower earlobe.