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Swinging apartment
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
GETTING INTO THE SWING
I had recently moved to a new apartment as a result of my separation from my
wife of five years. The single couple next door had become very good friends
of mine in the short month that I had been living there. They were both 19 and
I was 28. Though the age difference was fairly large, we were all extremely
compatible. We would get together each evening for drinks at the pool. I
hadn't had sex in nearly two months and the sight of Stacy's five-feet-seven,
hard, slender frame had been eating at me from the first day.
Stacy and Stan seemed devoted to each other, so I accepted the only sexual
pleasure to be found here -- stealing glances at Stacy's small firm tits with
their protruding nipples, or her round ass. The satisfaction in this died rath-
er quickly, so I invented ways to copping small feels of her as opportunities
arose.
I always suggested a variety of contact games to play in the pool. I volun-
teered to smooth the suntan lotion on her creamy skin. Each passing day drew
us closer. She took me up on the offer to use my washer and dryer, showing up
in the tiniest bikini. She would wash my dishes to repay the favor. She
looked great bent over, loading the washing machine. I watched as she washed
my dishes, arms buried in a mountain of suds. I knew that she was aware I was
watching. She had to know that I was fantasizing about her while she strutted
about my kitchen, unconsciously seductive.
By the time she finished the laundry my cock would be swollen and aching
for her steamy hot sex. I was obsessed with my fantasy about her. I managed
to turn our nightly conversation over drinks to my unwanted situation of celiba-
cy.
One evening, much to my disbelief, my dream was realized. I heard their
hushed whispers when I left the room and returned to find Stan smiling rather
nervously. I sensed the uneasiness in the room and attempted to excuse myself,
figuring that they wanted to be alone. As I got up from the couch Stan blurted
out, "How about a threesome?"
I tried not to show my surprise and, assuming that he was kidding, I joking-
ly replied, "Sure. Why not?"
The two of them stood up and started for the bedroom. Somewhat shaken, I
followed them. Suddenly Stan stopped and turned to me, saying, "Hey, why don't
we start by watching an X-rated movie?" I was more that receptive to the idea
as it would give me time to recover from my stunned disbelief
We sat quietly watching some very heated fucking. My mind was racing. I
still wondered if they weren't playing some kind of joke. The credits were on
the screen before I knew it and Stan suggested that we go to their place.
We were all quiet on the way over, but once behind the door, they started
undressing. They were both naked and on the bed in a flash.
I felt sort of numb as I watched them embrace. Stan went down on her wet
box, licking as she moved her hips. I thought that I must be dreaming. Stacy
turned to me and smiled in an innocent invitation. She held out a hand, draw-
ing me to her. I watched her take over, releasing my cock from my tight
jeans. She caressed my huge rod in the hands.
Scanning her gorgeous body, I saw that Stan was giving her pink cunt a real
going-over. His tongue was racing up and down, deep in the slit. He darted it
from side to side and flickered it up her clit while plunging three fingers in
and out of her pussy lips.
My attention was diverted when I felt Stacy's lips on my dick. She tugged
lightly at my balls, then I felt her slender finger probe my anus.
Stan mounted her, pulling her legs up on his shoulders to slam his meat
deep inside her. I slipped my hand beneath her an massaged her tight little
butthole, slippery wet from the drippings of her love-box. First one, then two
of my fingers were drawn into her anus. She same almost immediately, shivering
from head to toe. Her mouth, asshole and vagina clamped sown, having an immedi-
ate affect on Stan and me. My orgasm was overwhelming, like a surge of
electricity traveling from her mouth through my body.
After a breather Stacy rolled over on her stomach. She asked me if I en-
joyed probing her ass and, without waiting for an answer, asked me to fuck her
in the ass while she sucked Stan's cock.
I had only dreamed of the pleasure of packing a little fudge. I felt
flushed all over. Her little hole was still wet with her pussy juices and I
couldn't resist the opportunity to rim her beautiful pursed brown hole with my
tongue, adding a little lubrication of my own. The heady aroma added to the
thrill of performing such oral stimulation and brought life to my softened
love-muscle.
She rose to her knees and brought her breasts to the bed, making access to
her vagina easy, I gave her pussy a good eating out before I mounted her. Her
buns were firm, pressing around my dick as I paused on entering her ass.
"Yes, yes!" she cried and pushed back against me. Her hole opened slowly,
accepting my probing cock. I managed to hold back as her sphincter muscles ac-
commodated me. The feel of those muscles tightening around my cock was unlike
anything I had ever felt before. I erupted like a volcano, spewing my jism
deep into her bowel.
My tool shrank and slipped out of her as she was finishing Stan off. He
pulled out of her mouth and shot surge after surge of his come on the bed and
her tits. Stacy used her finger to gather up the come and bring it to her
mouth.
While they rested I gathered my clothes and dressed. I thanked them both,
then left for some much needed sleep. I had the feeling that they could go on
all night and I was frankly just not up to it. I also had no idea what to say
to them.
The following night Stan came to my door and invited me over for a drink.
"We can watch another movie," he suggested. This time, with more confidence, I
replied, "Sure. Why not?" I shouldn't have worried. Nothing had changed be-
tween us.
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