Tara & Steve: A Tale of Swingers

by August MacGregor

  Her lips inches away, Tara said, “Thank you, baby. You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I wanted you to have something special, too.”

  “Claire was something special,” Tara said. “And so is this. Thank you, honey. You fucking rock.”

  I smiled back at her, loving her, enjoying her body pressed against me, with her arms around my neck.

  “So, how do you feel?” she asked. “Talk to me. You look … I don’t know.”

  “I feel weird,” I admitted. “Like at the orgy. Lots of stuff going on up here.” I touched my head with my forefinger.

  Tara looked compassionate, understanding, as she nodded. “I know. I get it. I felt weird when you were fucking Claire.”

  “Did it go away? My weird feelings didn’t go away at the orgy.”

  She bit her lip and thought for a few seconds. “No, not completely. They shifted. They became … less intense. Yeah, I think that’s it. Less intense. They were still there, but not as much.”

  I said, “I wonder if they ever go away. Like with Kiefer. Being a swinger for years and years.”

  “Him?” She chuckled. “You’d think that nothing bothers him.”

  “Yeah, but I’m sure some things bother him.”

  Tara looked deep in my eyes and said, “How about you? Does this bother you? Having him here?”

  “No.” It was the truth. “I wouldn’t have set this up if it was going to bother me. Don’t forget, I’ve already seen you with him. That’s why I chose him. I had seen your face when you were with him at the orgy.”

  Her lips smiled in a corner again. “That’s what I said about you and Claire.”

  “Sure was. I guess we’re paying attention, huh?”

  She laughed. “We sure are. And I love you for that. I fucking love you for lots of things.”

  “You’ll have to make me a list sometime.”

  This time, her laughter was louder, and her forehead rested against mine. I could feel her shoulders shake a little. Her laughter and her blissful moans were sounds I adored hearing. I’d never grow tired of those.

  With that, I knew our lust and love for each other was still mighty strong.

  When my girlfriend raised her head, I kissed her hard for a minute, and then I moved her toward the edge of the pool. Her body was easy to lift up and out, so that she sat right on the edge.

  Well, hello, pussy. Marvelous how fresh and snappy you tasted.

  A little voice in my head said that this pussy just had another guy’s dick in it.

  I told that little voice to fuck off. I was busy eating here.

  Didn’t take long for Tara to give those stifled groans that came out as grunts when she was trying to keep her voice under control. Our neighbors couldn’t see us, but they sure could’ve heard Tara if she let it all out. Quite possibly, others beyond our neighboring bungalows would’ve heard her if she fully howled in the way I had heard her before.

  My tongue kept lapping at the trembling bud of her clitoris while she shook and moaned in ecstasy. Oh yes, there was that beautiful sound I adored.

  After she was done, I leaned back against the opposite side of the pool, beaming with pride. I drew first orgasm. Kiefer didn’t do it. Competitive? I sure was.

  Kiefer had vanished. Probably out of respect to let us absorb the first round of sex and talk it over. I appreciated his thoughtful move to give us the opportunity to talk. Plus, it let me blow Tara’s top without him. Score one for the boyfriend!

  My hot girlfriend slipped back into pool and pressed herself against me and said, “That’s another one on the list of things I love about you.”

  Still beaming, I planted a big kiss on her lips.

  A pop from inside the bungalow made us spin around. Kiefer came out of the living room holding a bottle of champagne and three glasses.

  “You came prepared,” Tara said.

  “Well, I had to celebrate this occasion,” Kiefer said.

  Of course, she appreciated this touch. It fit right with her style—since she had bought several bottles of the bubbly for Valentine’s night. They were like-minded in their beverage choice.

  He poured champagne as Tara and I left the pool, dripping, and found a stack of towels on a small table.

  Kiefer handed us filled glasses, then raised his own glass and said, “To you guys. For having the confidence and generosity and openness to do this.” He grinned and added, “And the craziness.”

  We drank to that. To our boldness for having these sexual adventures.

  One had to wonder: How many times had Kiefer made that toast to various couples or individuals? He had made this scene as comfortable as he could. Leave it to a middle-aged, married swinger to ease you into a threesome that you were conflicted about. He knew the moves, and he made them respectfully. The guy was a pro, no doubt about it. I couldn’t imagine how many wives and girlfriends he had sunk his pole into.

  And then there was his wife, Tiffany. How much husband and boyfriend dick had she enjoyed?

  Those thoughts ran around my head as we basked in the pleasures of post-orgasm, bubbly wine, sun, and good company. This was far different than Valentine’s night. Drinking champagne fit just right back then. It was night-time, we had returned from dinner at a fancy restaurant, and we wore nice clothes. But now, we were sipping champagne in the middle of the day, and we were buck naked in the sunshine. It felt deliciously indulgent.

  “Be right back,” Kiefer said as he set his glass down on the patio table and went inside the bungalow.

  When he came back, he carried a loaf of French bread and a cooler—which turned out be full of goodies. Cut pineapple, cantaloupe, and honeydew melon. Havarti cheese. A tube of summer sausage.

  “Ooo,” Tara cooed as she helped take the goodies out of the cooler and place them on the shaded patio table. “You guys have thought of everything, haven’t you?” She popped a piece of pineapple into her mouth.

  “Ah, just pitching in,” Kiefer replied.

  “And thanks for doing that,” I said to Kiefer.

  Why didn’t I think of bringing food? Tara had been prepared with champagne on Valentine’s, and then a yummy breakfast the morning after. And now, Kiefer showed me up by bringing both the bubbly and food. I had figured we’d pick up lunch somewhere, and then I forgot during the drive. My focus was on other things.

  Tara held up the tube of summer sausage and French bread. “Hmm … now what do these remind me of?”

  I blushed. Kiefer broke into a toothy grin.

  The grin was infectious, because another spread across Tara’s face. Her eyebrows danced in a couple of hops. Her puckered lips kissed one curved end of the sausage. Then she opened wide and put part of the thing in her mouth. She held it there while checking out Kiefer’s gleeful reaction. Then she bit down, pulled away the remainder of the sausage, and chewed.

  Obviously, my girlfriend was pleased with my surprise of Kiefer for her.

  “Mmm,” she hummed as she chewed the sausage. “Big and meaty.”

  I blushed more and kept silent.

  Tara set the sausage down and slipped off the paper bag from the French bread with a flourish, like she was a magician unveiling an object that her audience had thought was lost.

  “Now this,” she said, giving the naked loaf of bread a little shake, “this is far too much. I mean, could you imagine?”

  One of her hands held the bread near the bottom of the loaf, and then her other hand slid up and down it. Giving the thing a handjob. The way she looked at the bread made you figure that she was imagining the thing to be an actual giant cock, and she was set upon pleasuring it.

  Of course, Kiefer and I were a rapt audience.

  Soon, she broke her reverie, and she giggled. She shot me that wide grin, saying, “Sorry, honey. I couldn’t help myself.”

  I tried to play it off with a shrug and a joke: “That would be a seriously big dick. Wouldn’t that hurt you, though?”


  “Sure would,” she said, and she took a seat at the table. “I’d have to resort to other means besides my pussy and my mouth. But, anyway, let’s eat this wonderful feast that Kiefer brought us. Thanks again, Kiefie.”

  “Kiefie?” I asked as I sat down.

  “Ah, just being fun.” Tara gave me a peck on the lips, and even with just a peck, I could taste the sausage on her lips.

  Kiefer had to grab another chair from the living room, since the patio table only had two chairs. As he joined us at the table, he looked up at the covering above us. “Good thing it’s shaded. You’ve got to be especially careful in the sun with no clothes on.”

  “Ouch,” I said. “I’d never want my dick sunburned.” I shivered at the thought.

  Tara made a pained face. “I hope that never happens. But if it does, I’d take of it, baby.”

  That made me smile, imagining Tara dressed as a sexy nurse and delicately rubbing lotion on my dick. Of course, I didn’t imagine my dick being sunburned, but nice and healthy instead. Just in need of some tender touching.

  We sat around the patio table talking, eating the tasty food, and drinking champagne. Just friends hanging out on a Saturday afternoon. Except we were all naked. And no one was ashamed of it. Tara didn’t seem to mind at all that her boobs were on display.

  It felt surreal. Yet another one of these surreal times in a string of them. If you had told me when Tara moved into my apartment that less than a year later, we were going to be sitting with Kiefer, all of us in our birthday suits, I would’ve thought you were nuts.

  But it was happening, and it was surreal as hell. It was also relaxing. Yeah, I wasn’t crazy about Tara’s remarks about the sausage and bread and her obvious comparison to Kiefer’s manhood. But my irritation soothed out as we simply relaxed into the afternoon.

  The sexiness of the situation spurred my second erection. I was erect before Kiefer. Told you I was competitive.

  “How ’bout we bring the party inside?” I asked and stood up, proudly presenting my hard-on.

  Tara’s face lit up as she saw it. “I’m rested up, so I’m all for it. But let’s not head inside just yet.” She grabbed my hips and turned me, so that my hard-on pointed at her. “I’m not quite finished eating yet.”

  She swallowed me. Nearly took all of my cock into her mouth, just like that. I gasped. As her lips hugged my shaft, she looked up at me, making eye contact for a few quick heartbeats. Then she looked over at Kiefer. Checking on her audience.

  Mr. Smooth Swinger grinned at her and raised his glass in a toast. He watched as Tara slowly pulled back, lips sliding along my cock, and she released me.

  “Oh!” she chirped. “Got an idea.”

  She grabbed the small bit of sausage still left. She rubbed it all over my shaft. Popped the bit of meat in her mouth. Smiled up at me as she chewed. After swallowing, she licked my cock up and down. Cleaned the sausage taste off my sausage.

  I was riveted. Same with Kiefer.

  “There,” Tara said. “That’ll do for now. Inside, did you say?”

  I nodded. “Figured we’d give the bed a test.”

  “Good idea.”

  She stood and stepped out of the shade, into the sunshine. She tilted her face to the sun and closed her eyes and stretched her arms out. The beautiful sun worshipper.

  “God, it feels so good,” she said softly.

  Her comment and the sight of her warmed my heart.

  When this reverie ended, she looked over at me and said, “Can’t stand too long in the sun—I didn’t put on sunscreen.” She grabbed my upper arm and added, “C’mon, boys, let’s fuck.”

  She was loving this, all right. The enthusiasm in her voice rang like a bell.

  Tara released my arm as we entered the bungalow together, and then she skipped to the bedroom. There, I found Tara on the king-sized bed, on her back, her legs spread open for me.

  Without a word, I climbed onto the bed and on top of her, and I entered her. She sighed. I loved how her sun-warmed skin felt. Her face glowed from the sun and from the sexual excitement. I wanted to keep that glow burning by making love to her. As I slid inside her, I kissed her and felt her warm arms embrace me. All of it felt heavenly.

  At some point, Tara tapped my shoulder, giving me the cue that she wanted to shift. We liked changing up positions, my lady and I. When I rolled off her, I saw Kiefer standing in the doorway and holding his champagne glass. His dick was still limp.

  “Come,” Tara said to him, patting the bed. “Lie down.”

  “Love to.”

  He was on his back in no time. Tara sat next to him and caressed his chest, stomach, thighs. Again, I noticed how the guy was in really good shape. Muscles could be seen over his body—like the six-pack of his abdominals. This dude worked out regularly. And he tanned regularly, too, with that bronze sheen of his.

  Then his lack of hair hit me. Hairless stomach, thighs, and crotch. A small thatch of pubic hair was above his dick. Just his firm-looking chest had a good amount of hair on it.

  Tara’s hand slid over all of it. Discovering his body beyond the cock she had already been introduced to. And then, she caressed his cock. Her eyes were a little dreamy, reminding me of how she looked when she had admired the summer sausage and loaf of French bread.

  She turned to me and said, “Lie down over here.”

  Kiefer and I now lay side by side, with my girlfriend between us. Partners on the bed. Like we had been on the chaise lounges out on the patio, but we were closer this time.

  “My studs,” Tara said and shifted, so that she faced the headboard rather than Kiefer.

  She reached out and held my dick in her free hand. She looked very pleased, gazing down at the two naked men under her and stroking their cocks at the same time.

  I noticed that mine was bigger now, since Kiefer’s dick was still soft. Or semi-soft, rather. He was growing. Tara leaned down and kissed his swelling cock. She put it in her mouth.

  Twisting emotions coiled in me. This act was not easy to watch. I told myself that it came with the territory. After all, redheaded Claire had sucked me in our Valentine’s threesome. And she had done it right in front of my girlfriend.

  Tara came up for air, then turned toward me. Her hand still gripped my hard-on, but she had forgotten to stroke me while she was blowing Kiefer.

  “Did it turn you on,” she said, “when Kiefer watched me sucking your cock at the patio table?”

  The blunt question made me pause. I recovered and said gently, “Yes.”

  She leaned down and kissed my dickhead. A tender kiss lasting a couple of thudding heartbeats.

  “Did it turn you on,” she said, “when Kiefie watched you fuck my mouth before that? He was watching, you know.”

  “Yes,” was my soft answer again.

  She kissed my dickhead again.

  Then she said, “And did it turn you on when he watched you come on my tits?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Because he’s watching right now.”

  Her lips parted, and she took more of my dick inside her mouth. Very slowly, her head moved up and down. It was achingly slow—but I fucking loved it.

  I got to enjoy her mouth for several gasping breaths, before she released me and went back to Kiefer.

  Her hands gripping both of our cocks, she took turns sucking us. My girlfriend, showing us again that she could handle giving pleasure to two men.

  That’s when I discovered a drawback to having a big dick. Tara couldn’t take in as much of Kiefer’s meaty sausage as she could mine. She couldn’t even go halfway down his shaft, due to the large girth of it stuffed in her mouth. With my cock, she could go down much further. She could deep throat me all the way down. I reveled in that discovery, that I could feel my girlfriend’s mouth with all of my cock—not just the head and some portion below it.

  Of course, the top is where a dick is most sensitive, so Kiefer was obviously
getting pleasure. That much was obvious, from his moans when Tara’s head was bobbing on him.

  Then Tara sat up straight and released our dicks from her stroking hands. She looked quite pleased as she admired her handiwork.

  “Mmm, nice and hard,” she said. “You boys sure know how to feed a girl.”

  “Glad to do it,” Kiefer replied.

  “But you boys kinda look hungry, too.”

  With that, she crawled forward a little, lifted a leg, and sat on Kiefer’s face.

  Why him? Maybe she figured it was his turn to eat pussy, since I had eaten it in the pool earlier.

  But whatever her reasoning, she looked gorgeous like that. The realization just hit me: Straddling him, her hands on her tits, she appeared strong and bold and scorching hot. She looked like a goddess of sex. Maybe she had similar feelings to what I had felt as a god of sex with her and Claire?

  And who could blame her? She had pleased both of us on the patio. And on the bed, she had pleased us both at the same time with her hands, even while her head bobbed on one of us.

  Now, it was her turn to be worshipped.

  It also hit me that I wasn’t doing any worshipping except staring. So, I scrambled up and gently moved her hands off her tits, and I set about showing her with my hands and mouth how much I loved her boobs.

  She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to let her moans out. “Oh God, that feels soo good. Soo good. Oh honey, lick that pussy. Oh yeah. Lick it, baby. Lick my fucking pussy.”

  Her hips gyrated on Kiefer’s face. Mr. Swinger was obviously doing an exceptional job. Which wasn’t surprising, given that the guy probably had eaten lots of pussy. Hundreds, maybe?

  “Oh baby,” she groaned, “suck my tits. Oh Stevie, I love how you suck my tits. You treat them so good, baby.”

  My lips let go of a nipple, so I could say, “I should close the glass doors.”

  Her moaning halted, like car tires screeching when the brakes were slammed.

  “Huh?” she asked.

  I said, “The glass doors to the patio. I should close them. I want you to be as loud as you want.”

  “Honestly, who the fuck cares?” Her expression was of irritation from being interrupted.