Then, with the advent of the Internet, the promise of a more exciting life was there, hiding in the monitor before her and waiting for her to take a step forward and grab hold of it. Suddenly, there before her eyes, were real people and not actors. Further, she could actually write to these men and they’d respond. Many of them wanted the same things she yearned to have: romance, sex, and love. The life that lived on the Internet wasn’t like the life that existed only in the soap operas; this was more of a three-dimensional, interactive life. This was something tangible that she could actually participate in and make her own. This was real and this was her opportunity for happiness and fulfillment.
She emerged like a tulip in the spring. Much like Michael J. Fox’s character Jamie Conway, in Jay McInerney’s Bright Lights, Big City, who discovers that there is life without his supermodel wife, Amanda, when the smell of freshly baked bread awakened him, Gwen discovered that there was life without her husband. Tulips and bread are the best analogies to describe an image of her, something new and something familiar combined in the makeup of her renewed persona. Suddenly, she was alive again after being forsaken, dead, buried, and forgotten in a failed marriage.
G started writing to men online. They were innocent conversations at first that passed the time and made her life not only tolerable but also interesting. A dozen or so men were scattered throughout the United States, and she wrote to them. Some sent photos of themselves; some were nice, and others obscene. Like her, all were lonely. G sent them a photo of herself as a pretty girl in a plain dress. “Gee, you are pretty,” they all wrote back. Weeks turned into months, and G became more risqué. She started responding to the new men who answered her with seminude and nude photos of herself. An adventure with a webcam followed. G was hooked.
Her life with her husband was now a postscript. G told everyone that she was divorced. Her husband was already gone from her mind, replaced with Tom from Connecticut, Gary from Rhode Island, Steve from New Hampshire, Jim from Maine, and Freddie.
She didn’t know where Freddie was from. Although she asked, he didn’t tell her. He didn’t tell her much of anything that was personal to him, but oh, how she loved receiving his hot e-mails. He wrote her such passionate messages filled with humor that she wondered if he was real. She wondered if she’d ever meet him. She wondered how different and how much better her life would be with Freddie instead of with her husband, who no longer loved her.
Then she saw it, his latest e-mail, hidden among all the others but standing out like a beacon. It was the only one she opened. It was an invitation to the annual Swingers’ Halloween Masquerade Ball. He’s a swinger. She didn’t know how she felt about that. He’s been with other women. How many other women? Does he think of me as just another one of those women?
She responded to his e-mail, asking him questions. What do they do? Who attends? What should I wear? I’m so nervous. Really, no means no. If I do not want to do anything, I just have to say no.
He sent her his photo, and he was a dreamboat, tall and handsome. Now she understood why he hadn’t revealed his identity to her: He lived in the next city over. All this time he was living practically next door to where she lived in misery with her husband. Oh, how cruel life is sometimes.
They met for lunch at a Chinese restaurant and hit it off so well that she accompanied him to his house, where they had hot sex, the kind of sex she hadn’t had in years. If there was love at first sight, she was in love with this man. Yet he was intent on having her escort him to the Swingers’ Halloween Masquerade Ball, and she questioned how he could love her and share her sexually with another. Yet he did love her.
She was a married woman, after all, and already she was cheating on her husband with this man she’d just met on the Internet. Now he wanted to introduce her to the swinging lifestyle. Suddenly, her life as a bored and unsatisfied housewife had come full circle with a dozen men who wanted to experience the sexual pleasure of her.
She dressed as a wood nymph fairy with green glitter wings, and he dressed as the boxer he once had been. They made a handsome couple and were both in demand by the other attendees at the dance. Couples appeared at their table and introduced themselves. Men asked G to dance, and women asked Freddie to dance. They had a wonderful time at the ball.
But Freddie and G were not to be. Freddie, however, was her conduit to freedom. He was her escape. He made it possible for her to consider the possibilities and to believe that she was no longer stuck.
Better to love someone than not to love and be loved. She had gone so long feeling lonely and restless, knowing there was something missing, knowing there was something better somewhere out there for her to discover. This Swingers’ Halloween Masquerade Ball had opened her up and made her live her life again. Her green glitter wings were symbolic after all. She was free.
POLAR OPPOSITES
Wolf Feather
I panned the camera across the room, showing more than a dozen naked guys, plus my best friend draped across a table. I zoomed in on the naked Reiko just as Matt withdrew from her, gooey whiteness from him and others spilling out from between her legs. Slowly, I moved the camera up the Asian beauty’s white-spattered body, showing Reiko in the aftermath of over two full hours of nonstop sex. She definitely looked like she had been thoroughly fucked for a long time. Reiko whimpered softly, the rise and fall of her chest drawing my attention as I zoomed in just as Derek stepped up to her, stroking himself. A few moments later, with a groan, he emptied himself, adding to the thick, drying coat of male seed on her heaving chest.
I so desperately wanted to step out from behind the camera, to go to my former college roommate and clean her with my own tongue and then suck all that tasty fluid from deep inside her small exotic body. Or, even better, I wished that it was me on the table after more than two full hours of sex.
It took all the willpower I could muster to keep my hands on the camera, moving back down Reiko’s body to show her dripping onto the tabletop. I was so incredibly wet myself just from watching that my thong was really uncomfortable, yet I tried my best to ignore it as the final guy—the party’s host, my boyfriend—stepped into the view of the camera.
Seeing the very familiar erection in Randy’s hand made my mouth water and caused another surge of wetness to further dampen my thong. I so wanted to drop to my knees before him and allow him to force his way into my throat as his fists tightened in my hair, holding me completely still against him as I swallowed again and again until he volleyed his love into me.
But somehow I remained behind the camera, avidly following the familiar tip as it slowly approached the well-used Asian beauty. We all knew what was coming, except for Reiko. For over an hour, her eyes had essentially been “glued” shut with a master’s blindfold applied by Dave and Sean so that she could not see that her host and longtime friend was about to give her the final powerful thrills of the night.
Reiko cooed softly as she felt Randy’s hand on her and then moaned loudly as he fully entered her with a single swift thrust.
“Showtime, Randy!”
“Ream ’er, Randy!”
“Make the bitch plead for mercy!”
Only Danny and Brad were newcomers to our cozy group. The rest of the guys knew all too well about Randy’s extreme prowess.
As did I, which made me feel both jealous and thankful that I wasn’t the “bitch” on the table, for I knew Randy’s polar extremes unlike anyone else at this party.
When we are alone, Randy is almost always gentle with me. We take our time undressing each other and then sometimes spend several hours in slow, respectful foreplay. Once he finally enters me, we make love, touching, kissing, hugging, always romantic and respectful, treating each other like delicate crystalline figures on display in a museum. With his unparalleled ability to hold back his orgasm, we could be joined for several hours at a time, stopping only to shift positions on occasion.
But I also know his “evil twin” side. On these occasions, any clothing
I wear is practically torn from my body. His hands maul me and his teeth devour me as if I were the captive prey of a wild beast. That is the extent of our foreplay on those occasions. Then I am forced into his desired position—spread across the bed, bent over the edge of a table, or whatever he wants from me at the moment—and he plows into me. He then royally fucks me so hard that I often sport bruises days afterward, and only a double dose of Tylenol can even begin to take the harshness away from the resultant headache, for with his incredible staying power, he can pummel my body seemingly forever before he finally explodes inside me.
The guys cheer as Reiko screams, occasionally babbling something in her native Japanese. Even a rag doll deserves better treatment. But as I know from repeated firsthand experience, the physical torment blesses the exotic beauty with sexual bliss as she surfs the orgasmic tidal waves. And I record it all.
Since I had been behind the camera all evening, I felt quite jealous that I was not the one on the table despite the brutal violence Randy was showing my former roommate.
Randy growled loudly with each violent, possessive thrust, sweat coating his skin from his furious efforts. Reiko’s legs held him like a vise, threatening to never release him, while the rest of her small, delicious body was tossed around from the brutal fucking. With all the male cheers and the incessant intensity of her obviously foreign screams, anyone passing by the house probably would have assumed someone was being gang raped.
I was suddenly startled by a hand on my hip and very thankful the camera was mounted on a tripod. “You’ve been left out of all the fun,” Reiko’s fiancé, Michael, whispered in my ear as he pressed himself against my backside. His hands quickly found their way to my chest, gently massaging my hard-tipped breasts as I tried to focus on the action before me, not the action upon me.
“Let Matt take over,” Michael whispered, a hand leaving me long enough to motion one of his fraternity brothers toward us. Reluctantly, I agreed and allowed Michael to lead me by the hand and take me outside.
I wore a blouse, bra, miniskirt, thong, and sandals. Michael wore nothing. As my boyfriend continued to violently force climax upon climax upon my best friend, her fiancé undressed me in the moonlight, ultimately laying me in the dewy grass.
From inside the house, the cheers and growls and screams seemed to intensify, yet my body felt like it would melt into the earth as Michael gently licked between my thighs, probing me with his fingers like an explorer entering a gold-filled cave for the first time. Michael was slow, respectful, gentle, and caring with me, the exact opposite of how Randy was treating my best friend. And while nearly a dozen voices yelled encouragement at Randy, only my soft whimpers were available to encourage Michael to continue.
But as my passion spiraled skyward, I could tell that Michael held all the encouragement he needed deep within himself. He simply wanted me to participate in the action of the evening, to take a more active role in the festivities.
Suddenly, I could no longer hear the raucous noise from inside the house. I was oblivious to the stars winking at me from the heavens. I was no longer part of the world beneath me. All I could hear were my own cries of pleasure. A billion stars formed on the inside of my eyelids. My world consisted only of two people: me and my best friend’s fiancé.
After that, my memory is fuzzy. I seem to recall a tongue snaking so deeply into my mouth that I very nearly panicked. I seem to recall hearing a strained groan near my ear. I seem to recall feeling a splattering on my stomach.
All that I remember for certain is Reiko lying on me, gently kissing me as my memory became unclouded. A few of the guys knelt around me, touching us both, their congealed seed trapped between my best friend and me.
Reiko and I represented the polar opposites of the evening: many versus one, violence versus gentleness, object versus person, East versus West, Japanese versus Caucasian. I suppose the gooey white mess sandwiched between us was our equalizer. And through it all, Reiko and I had each other for comfort and support.
Such polar opposites.
ROCKING THE BOAT
Anne Alexander
Nothing but water as far as the eye could see, and it was breathtaking. Daria took a deep breath of sea air, then a big gulp of her daiquiri. She was sure she’d need about six more of them if they were really going to do this.
She was taking another long drink from her glass when she felt David come up behind her. “Easy, baby,” he said. “You don’t want to pass out before the fun starts.”
She turned her head to look at her husband over her shoulder. “I don’t?” she asked, winking at him playfully. “I’m not so sure.”
He put his hands on her waist and kissed her neck, nuzzling in and sending a shiver up her spine. “Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, serious all of a sudden.
Daria turned again and kissed David’s cheek. “No, babe. Not really. Just a little apprehensive. Liquid courage, you know.” She laughed, nodding at her daiquiri.
“Right,” he said, turning her around and claiming her lips with his. He kissed her softly but urgently, and his lips opened hers as his tongue made its way past her teeth and caressed her mouth. She set her glass down behind her and wrapped her arms around his strong, hard back, kneading the muscles there and moaning into his kiss.
His hands found her bottom and began to massage it gently through the light material of her skirt. He pulled back a moment and looked into her eyes. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” she said, grinding ever so slightly against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Hey, where are Rita and Sean?” it suddenly occurred to her to ask.
“Downstairs, getting things ready,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “They sent me up to get you. Are you ready?”
Daria exhaled audibly. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
David caught her hands in his and held her gaze. “D, listen, you’re allowed to change your mind about this. It’s not like we signed a contract or you’ll get fired if you don’t. Honestly, if you want to back out, I will understand. Just tell me,” he implored, looking at her intently.
He was so earnest, she giggled for a moment, but she stopped when he looked taken aback. “Honey, no, I want to. I do. Just jittery, I guess. But I’m ready,” she assured him. She drained her daiquiri, and he took her hand and led her across the fly bridge to the stairs that would take them below the deck and into a fantasy. “Can we stop for a refill on the daiquiri, though?” Fresh daiquiris in hand, David and Daria walked into the master stateroom suite downstairs. It was a beautiful yacht Rita and Sean had—Daria couldn’t believe people really owned boats like this. Besides the enormous master suite, there was a big guest room, a beautiful kitchen, two heads, as she’d been told the bathrooms were called, and a massive salon. She hoped they’d get to go out on the yacht with Sean and Rita again sometime, but she supposed they ought to get through this first time and see how it went before making future plans.
“There they are!” Sean said, stretching out on the king-size bed. “Why don’t you get comfortable with us down here?” He took a drink from his highball glass. Daria noticed that Rita had a glass of wine—they all needed liquid courage!
Since she didn’t want to sit right down on the bed with Sean, she sank down into one of the settees along the wall, next to Rita, as David wandered around the room, looking at the framed prints of old nautical maps on the walls.
Rita looked over at Daria and saw her clutching her daiquiri glass. She reached over and pried the glass from Daria’s hand and set it down. Then Rita took the other woman’s hand in her own and just held it for a moment, squeezing slightly. Daria looked at Rita’s face as Rita smiled at her warmly, reassuringly. She was beautiful.
That was all Daria needed, that smile, because then, suddenly, she was ready. And what she did next shocked even her. She reached up and put her hand through Rita’s ginger curls and then pulled Rita to her and kissed her softly on the mouth. Rita seemed a bit surprised at fi
rst but became receptive to the kiss almost instantly, sensing Daria’s need.
“Now what year is this—” David stopped as he saw his lovely wife kissing Sean’s lovely wife and decided he didn’t really care what year the map was from.
Sean was watching, too, transfixed as his wife moved her hand up under Daria’s tank top until she found a nipple, her small breasts unfettered by a bra. Rita pinched, eliciting a gasp from Daria, who untied the cord of Rita’s kimono-style blouse and watched, enraptured, as Rita’s perfect breasts came into view.
Now it was David’s turn to gasp as Rita’s mouthwateringly large nipples taunted him from across the room. He thought he might stop breathing forever if he didn’t have a taste of them immediately, so he made his way to her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, dropping to his knees in front of the two women, who’d gone back to hungrily ravishing each other’s mouths. “Mmmm,” he murmured appreciatively as he bent his head and took one of Rita’s nipples into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it until he heard her softly moan in appreciation.
Sean, who’d been enjoying the spectacle but was beginning to feel the tiniest bit left out, went to the threesome and knelt on the settee behind Daria. He reached down and pulled her tank top off, then buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking and biting the exquisitely soft flesh he found there. His hands reached for her nipples and softly squeezed the delicate flesh.
Meanwhile, the women had gotten a bit more adventurous with each other. Rita was now rubbing the space Daria had made between her parted legs as Daria had reached down into her shorts and found her silky folds wet with desire. It was intoxicating, feeling another woman like that, knowing it was her kisses that were making Rita slippery.
“You’ve got me so hot,” Rita breathed into Daria’s ear. “Your husband, too.”
Daria looked down at David, completely enthralled with Rita’s breasts, which were much bigger than her own. His erection was no longer concealed within his shorts; he’d unzipped and was stroking himself openly now. As she noticed her husband’s cock, she felt Sean’s pressing into her back as he tickled her earlobe with his tongue and massaged her breasts expertly.
Big Bad Ass Book of Sex Page 19