20 erotic swinging and swapping stories

by Miranda Forbes

  ‘Oh, God, don’t stop,’ the woman cried.

  ‘I won’t stop, Danielle,’ Amelia spoke her name as she felt her climax flow over her fingers. ‘Not unless you want me to.’

  As Danielle’s orgasm abated. Amelia let go of the scarf. She pressed her hand against Danielle’s throat to stop the bleeding. She would be weak, but that was nothing a little linguine with clam sauce and Benedictine could not improve.

  ‘I’ve never had an orgasm like that before,’ Danielle said. ‘Why on earth did I hate you so much?’

  ‘You didn’t hate me. You had no idea what to think of me. You’re going to be a bit woozy for a few hours. Let’s get you home and get some good food and liquor into you. Now dry your tears. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You may still have guests outside.’

  ‘Why …? I don’t understand. You wanted me the whole time?’ Danielle asked.

  ‘Yes. I like you angry. I like the energy. You thought I was taking Peter away from you. Not at all. As a matter of fact, I have some fun for us tonight.’ Amelia grinned as she spoke.

  Danielle dressed and tidied herself up while Amelia straightened out her dress. Danielle turned the gallery lights back on. Once the two women were ready, they emerged from the storage room. Two dozen people were left in the gallery. Peter stood near the door, and he gave them a quizzical look. Jeremy stood next to the refreshment table, sipping a glass of champagne. When he saw Amelia, he tipped his glass towards her in greeting. She smiled at him. At her smile, he approached.

  ‘Everything’s OK. Danielle was just nervous over her first time,’ Amelia smiled. She knew Jeremy and Peter thought she meant Danielle’s first gallery opening, but both she and Danielle knew she meant something very different.

  Danielle ran her fingers along Amelia’s spine. Amelia felt her entire body melt.

  ‘I have a bottle of wine chilling at our home, Peter. Roger is still here. He can keep the gallery open until closing. How about we invite Amelia and Jeremy over to our home?’ Danielle said. She licked her new teeth. They had not grown in yet. She felt their electrical charge as they formed. She liked her new body and her new urges.

  Amelia watched the two men, who had no idea what to make of these two women who had draped over one another after hating each other for so long. Amelia wanted to make Peter and Jeremy her own tonight, the same way she had made Danielle her own.

  ‘I promise all of you we will have a delightful time,’ Amelia said with a grin.

  ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Peter said, not taking his eyes from Amelia. Jeremy smiled, and brushed his hand against Amelia’s face.

  ‘So am I,’ Amelia said. ‘Oh, so am I.’

  Kicks

  by Landon Dixon

  She was standing on the sidewalk, in the rain. I slowed the car, pulled up to the curb. She was soaking wet, her white blouse and black skirt plastered to her body, like her black hair to her head. Her full breasts were on display through her now nearly see-through top, her rounded hips and flared thighs accentuated by the sodden skirt, long, stockinged legs pouring out the bottom and into a pair of shiny black high heels.

  She was making no attempt to shield herself from the rain, like she’d given up trying, just standing next to the office building with a look of supreme frustration on her pretty face. Mascara streaked her cheeks, and her glossy lips were pressed tightly together.

  It was well past office hours, but still fairly light out, despite the rain. I licked my lips, staring at the drenched and obviously abandoned woman, liking what I saw. I shifted the car into park and got out and ran over to her.

  ‘You waiting for someone?’

  She glared at me, her clear blue eyes flashing. ‘Yeah, my fucking prick of a husband! You seen him?’

  I grinned and shook my head, the rain splattering down on me. She was stunning up-close, dripping delicious, clothes clinging to her outrageous curves. ‘He stood you up, huh?’

  She snorted. ‘He was supposed to pick me up an hour ago. But it’s just like him to forget. He doesn’t give a damn!’ She held up her hands, her breasts rising in her soaked blouse. ‘And now look at me!’

  I was, enthralled. ‘That’s no way to treat a lady. Can I give you a lift somewhere?’

  She stared at me, water running down her face and off the point of her chin. ‘You want to give me a ride?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. My car’s right over there. Anywhere you want to go.’ I smiled my most charming. I’m a stud by no means, but most women think I’m “cute”, with my curly brown hair and dimpled chin and tight, compact body. I’ve been known to rescue a damsel in distress on occasions, as well.

  ‘You really want to give me a ride? In place of my fuckingly thoughtless husband?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  She grabbed my arm, dragged me down the sidewalk and into an alley. She threw herself up against a slickened wall and pulled me in close. ‘Well, ride me, Sir Galahad!’ she hissed in my startled face. ‘Fuck me, Prince Charming! Give it to me fast and furious in place of my fucking husband!’

  I stared into her gleaming eyes. ‘You want …’

  She unzipped my jacket, pushed it back over my shoulders. ‘I’m Megan. Fuck me!’

  ‘Tony!’ I blurted. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  She tore my shirt open and thrust her hands inside, running her warm, damp palms over my bare stomach and up on to my chest. Clutching my pecs, she mashed her mouth against my gaping mouth, hungrily kissing me.

  I surged with heat, gripping her buff shoulders and kissing her right back, her lips soft and wet, and demanding. The whole thing was so unexpected and spontaneous, uncontrollable. She wrapped her arms around my body inside my shirt and sucked on my mouth, chewed on my lips, her tits pressing hotly into my heaving chest.

  The street was deserted and the alley empty, the warm rain washing down on us as we made out, inflaming our passions still more. She slid her hands down into the back of my pants and clawed at my butt cheeks with her sharp nails, as I pulled her blouse open at the shoulders, our mouths moving together.

  ‘Yes!’ she gasped, leaning back. Her blouse hung open to the cleavage, raindrops shimmering on her smooth, curved, white skin.

  I gripped her blouse lower down and ripped it all the way open, sending ivory buttons rattling off the brick wall and clattering on to the pavement. Her tits were overflowing a satiny white bra, and I cupped them, squeezed them, revelling in their heft and heat. She squirmed up against the wall.

  I wasn’t responsible for my actions any more. I was on fire. She’d tempted me and I’d taken the bait; no man could hold it against me – not based on what she was offering. She popped her bulging bra open at the front and her tits sprung out into my clutching hands, bare and huge and soft.

  ‘Suck them,’ she rasped.

  Her nipples were jutting pink exclamation points on the tremendous globes of her tits, and I dove my head down and took one into my mouth, sucked on it. She dug her fingers into my hair and pulled me in tighter to her chest, her breast-meat filling my mouth.

  Someone ran by on the sidewalk. A shadow passed over the alley wall. But I paid no heed. I had my hands and mouth full, kneading Megan’s tits, sucking on her nipples, my cock a pulsing length of steel in my pants.

  ‘Oh, God, yes!’ she moaned, writhing against the wall.

  Then she jerked my head up and glared down into my eyes. ‘I need you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me like my husband won’t ever fuck me. Now!’

  We scrambled my belt and fly open. She yanked my pants and shorts down, and my cock sprang up and out into the open. I gulped when the rain splashed against my throbbing shaft, groaned when Megan laced her long, slender fingers around it. She had me firmly in the palm of her hand.

  She unhooked her skirt with her other hand and flung it aside, pulled her shiny white panties to one side. I stared down at the slick pink petals of her pussy, her hot, moist hand swirling up and down the pulsating length of my cock. ‘Fuck me,’ she breathed, sticking the bloate
d tip of my prick into her inner wetness.

  I groaned, plunging into the woman’s pussy. She clutched my bare ass and I moved my hips like she wanted, gliding my cock back and forth inside of her. We flailed our tongues together. She bit into my tongue, nails into my cheeks, driving me to fuck her harder, faster.

  ‘Yes. Yes!’ she screamed.

  I pounded into her with reckless abandon, gripping her tits and bouncing her against the wall, churning her hot, wet, tight pussy. She was a complete stranger – a married woman – and we were out there fucking almost in the open in the pouring rain; and that made everything all the more exciting. Her tits jumped in my hands, body rocking against me. My balls tightened and tingled, cock flying.

  ‘What the fuck?’

  I jumped, twisted my head around.

  A man was standing in the mouth of the alley, staring at us; a huge, angry-looking man. I tried to focus, still pistoning Megan’s pussy in rhythm to her grasping hands.

  ‘He got here first, asshole!’ she snarled. ‘You didn’t show up, so I took what came along.’

  My eyes and head began to clear. The hulking guy was Megan’s husband. I was fucking his wife, right in front of him, my pumping cock gone come-hard in the woman’s sucking twat.

  ‘You’re dead,’ he growled at me, advancing on us.

  Megan pulled one of my hands off her tits and thrust something cold into it – a gun. ‘Shoot him! Kill the bastard,’ she shrieked, undulating on the end of my prick.

  I looked at the gun, at the man. He was almost right on top of us now, fury etched all over his face. Megan’s pussy walls tightened on my cock, and I surged to the edge of coming, despite or because of the situation. I pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.

  It clicked empty.

  The man swatted it out of my hand, laughing.

  ‘You’d kill for me. You’d actually kill for me,’ Megan cooed.

  Then she shoved me back so hard I popped out of her pussy and stumbled across the alley and slammed into the wall opposite. My cock bobbed obscenely stiff and pink, dripping.

  ‘Am I a fucking temptress, or what, honey?’ Megan said to her husband, holding up her arms and gyrating her wet, white body against the wall.

  ‘You’re some smoking hot bitch, all right,’ he agreed, taking my place in between her legs and jamming his sledge of a cock into her slit. ‘Thanks for the show, pal,’ he sneered at me. ‘And for warming my wife up.’ He roughly gripped Megan’s breasts and hammered her pussy.

  She moaned, wrapping her arms around him.

  I staggered over to the mouth of the alley, fumbling my cock back into my pants.

  ‘Don’t feel too bad, Tony,’ she called after me, her voice jumping with the man’s violent thrusts. ‘We just do it for kicks!’

  She hungrily kissed her husband, clutching his pumping ass.

  It took a solid month of searching, but I finally found her again: standing by the side of a little-used road leading out of town.

  The hot, glaring sun was beating down on her out there in the middle of nowhere, sweat glistening on her bare arms and legs and chest, loose black hair shining. She was wearing a blue top tied together under her breasts, a pair of tiny, torn jean shorts. Her tits swelled almost right out of the top, shorts hugging her hips and pussy tight.

  I pulled the rented car off the shimmering asphalt and on to the dirt shoulder of the road, just beyond her. Then I adjusted my ball cap and sunglasses, the fake moustache pasted onto my upper lip, and backed the vehicle up so that I was directly across from Megan. ‘Need a lift?’ I asked through the open window, in a deeper voice than normal.

  She slowly walked over and bent down and looked in the window, her breasts just about falling out of her top. ‘My fucking husband was supposed to pick me up!’ She glanced up and down the empty road, letting me get a good look at her luscious tits, her flat stomach and long, lithe legs. ‘The fucking asshole!’

  ‘Hot day to be standing out by the side of the road,’ I said, flashing a grin.

  She smiled back at me, her blue eyes sparkling. ‘You’re right there. Mind giving me a ride? Since my husband obviously isn’t going to show up.’

  ‘Love to.’

  She opened the door and jumped inside the car, breasts jiggling, arms and legs flashing. ‘I’m Megan,’ she said, looking me over, paying particular attention to my bulging crotch.

  ‘Anthony,’ I responded, shifting into gear.

  I barely had the car back on the pavement, when she reached over and grabbed on to the hard outline of my cock in my jeans. ‘Why don’t we teach that inconsiderate prick of a husband of mine a lesson, Anthony?’ Megan suggested, rubbing my erection. ‘That fucking asshole takes too much for granted.’

  I grinned my agreement, warming in the heated palm of her hand.

  She wet her plush, red lips. Then said, ‘Turn off into those bushes up ahead.’ She squeezed my pulsing cock, and I did exactly as she asked.

  It was little more than a clump of trees, a picnic table, and a fire pit by the side of the road, but there was no one around, that I could see. I parked the car and we got out. And the black-haired beauty wasted no time, meeting me halfway around the vehicle and pushing me up against the trunk, pressing her burning-hot, perspiration-damp body into mine.

  ‘I want you to fuck me!’ she hissed in my face.

  She kissed me, hard, her tongue invading my mouth and entwining around mine. I grabbed her tight, and she knocked my cap off, ran her fingers through my hair, undulating her tits and pussy against me. There was no resisting the woman.

  We frenched furiously under the hot sun, along that deserted stretch of highway, feeling one another up. Until I spun Megan around and pushed her up against the trunk of the car, so she was facing away from me, gripping the hot metal. ‘I’m going to fuck you like that prick of a husband won’t ever fuck you,’ I hissed in her ear, grinding my cock into her ass. Then sticking my tongue inside her ear, swirling it around.

  She gasped and nodded, moving her taut, round bottom against my hard-on.

  I unfastened her shorts and glided the skimpy garment over the glowing mounds of her buttocks and down her legs. There was no gun hidden in the back of her panties, because she wasn’t wearing any panties. I smacked her lush cheeks, making the flesh ripple, as she pulled her top apart and flung it away.

  I grabbed up her overripe bare tits from behind and squeezed them, pinched the stiffened pink nipples between my fingers, making her moan. Then I reached down and unzipped my jeans and pulled my swollen cock out, stuck it into the heated tunnel formed by her buttocks.

  ‘You’re sure your husband won’t find you – come for you?’ I whispered, kissing her neck, clutching her tits, frotting her ass.

  ‘No,’ she murmured, melting against me. ‘He can go screw himself, for all I care.’

  I kicked her legs apart and thrust my cock up into her pussy. We both groaned, rutting around out there in the open. I gripped her narrow waist and pumped my hips, sawing cock in and out of her dripping cunt.

  Her fingernails scraped on the metal, as I rocked her back and forth with my prick. My thighs smacked against her bum, the wet sexual sound loud and clear in the still air.

  As was the infuriated growl of, ‘Hey, asshole, that’s my wife you’re screwing!’

  I turned my head and stared at the huge, angry-looking man emerging out of the bushes and striding towards us.

  Megan bounced against me, fucking herself on my prong. ‘He was here first, asshole!’ she yelled at her husband.

  I grinned at the guy, fast-fucking his wife.

  He charged.

  I drew my gun out of the back of my jeans and fired.

  The first bullet whizzed past his ear and thunked into a tree, spitting bark. He stopped, stunned, Megan frozen in position on the end of my pole. The second bullet I sent shooting past his other ear, and he turned tail and ran, crashing through the underbrush.

  ‘I guess he won’t be bothering us any more,
’ I said, reholstering my smoking pistol, cock still embedded in Megan’s pussy. I stripped off the shades and moustache, grasped the breathless woman under her armpits and pulled her up tight against me, revelling in the cool feel of her sweat, the trembling of her naked body.

  Maybe they’d expected me to take a beating, while she watched, then had sex together. Or maybe they’d just hoped I’d make a humiliating run for it, cock tucked between my legs.

  But now I groped Megan’s tits and pumped her slit, fucking the other man’s wife good and hard. She didn’t say a word, her pussy gone even tighter, gripping my surging dong in a heated vice.

  ‘What a kick, huh?’ I grunted, pounding away at her. Then jerking, blasting my white-hot semen into the stunned woman over and over, thoroughly enjoying myself.

  Forgotten Desires

  by Tony Haynes

  Sara fluttered her eyelashes at Marcus in what she hoped was a coquettish manner. ‘Please?’

  Marcus shook his head. He was adamant he wasn’t going to give in to his wife.

  Not to be deterred, Sara tried again. ‘Pretty please?’

  Marcus laughed. ‘No!’

  Sara crossed her arms and pretended to sulk.

  ‘Aw don’t be like that. We’re nearly there. I just don’t want to spoil the surprise, that’s all.’

  Sara’s frown faded. She was only kidding. She leant across the hand brake and pecked her husband on the left cheek. ‘If I didn’t know any better I’d say we were going back to Uni.’