Because of that, and because Julie was panting and grunting in joy, I glowed with energy, confidence, and pride.
I loved watching these gods and goddesses of sex. They were enjoying the many pleasures of life, while taking away society’s rules of having to wear clothes and not having sex in public.
I inhaled more of their world. Swimmers splashing in the pool. Laughter. Clinks of silverware on plates. Cheers at the volleyball court. Moans from others members having sex. Cries from orgasms. Puffy clouds in a brilliant blue sky. The warmth and smoothness of Julie’s hips.
Julie had no tan lines, I noticed. There were no diagonal lines separating a tanned back from bright white ass cheeks that a bikini bottom would create. No white horizontal line stretched across her back that a bikini top would make. She was simply the same tan all over.
Sweat dripped down my back and my face. My cock quickly appeared and disappeared as it buried deep inside this hottie before me. My cock hauling into her. Julie let out short bursts of groans each time I heaved forward.
I was filling my end of the bargain again. Pounding the fuck out of her.
I leaned forward, with one hand reaching up, so I could grab a breast. My other hand snaked around to her crotch and rubbed her clit.
Soon, Julie burst into another orgasm. As if her clitoris was an erect nub buzzing in excitement over our frenzied fucking, and all it took was a mere touch from my finger to tip it over the cliff’s edge, so that it hung in the clear blue sky for a moment, before its afterburners lit up, sending it rocketing to the heavens. Julie’s cries, too, burst toward the heavens as her body quaked with her climax.
As I continued rubbing Julie’s clit and pumping her cunt, I gazed up at that cute woman who had smiled at me. She was still watching us. Her smile was bigger now. I realized that she was touching herself. Her hands mimicked my hands: one held her breast, the other busy at her groin. It felt insanely fantastic to turn on this chick, to inspire her to masturbate.
Julie raised up, twisting her torso. She looked back at me. Her hand reached back and held onto my bicep. We kissed hard, lustfully, as I kept pounding her hot pussy and squeezing her breast.
She raised up more, her back pressed against my chest, her ass sitting more on my lap. Like we were spooning in an embrace—but I was kneeling instead of laying down. Her long brunette hair, now close to my face, smelled nice. Her tits were in easy reach. Easy handholds. I let go of her pussy, so both my hands could squeeze those luscious globes. I clutched those beauties while I kept drilling her cunt.
A memory flashed. This spooning reminded of the very first time my eager hands had held Julie’s melons. Back at the Christmas party. While Julie rode cowgirl on one guy and blew another dude, I had crouched behind her and reached around and cupped her boobs. My first time touching them was glorious.
Glorious, yeah, but now was a thousand—no, a million—times better. That time at the holiday party had the fire of being the first time. But now, I was actually fucking Julie while gripping the tremendous objects of my obsession.
That was the accurate word for it. Obsession. How else would you describe me collecting mental snapshots of her tits in all those parties over the years? How my hungry eyes had traced her cleavage? How I had memorized the outlines of her nipples as they strained against tight clothes?
I was truly obsessed, and it was obvious. Tara had probably seen it the first time I’d taken her to a party where Julie was in attendance.
Now, being lucky to be deep in her pussy, I pounded like mad. A mad man filled with adrenaline and savage lust. Call it chi energy in my veins, mixed with lust for her cunt and obsessive hands squeezing her spectacular tits. I pounded again and again. Massive, majestic thrusts where fantasy and reality collided. Slaps of my skin against hers. Her ass thudding back against me. Feeling that wet, silky cunt. Feeling her spongy tits. Her firm nipples against my palms, pinched between my fingertips. Her moans and cries flying out.
Finally, the final stage appeared. My come was coming. Like a freight train, as it had done when I fucked Julie’s jugs.
I had picked up that coming inside a woman was against swinger etiquette, so I pulled out quickly. I had time to jerk my cock for a few seconds, and then I was going to come on her lower back. That was my plan.
Julie had other plans. She uttered, “Huh?” when I pulled out, and then she must’ve immediately deduced my reason. In a flash, she slipped to the side and stood up. Swift as a cat.
“Sit on the edge,” she whispered. “Quick, quick.”
I did it without thinking. My hand was wrapped around my cock, ready to fire on her lower back. But I let go of my dick to follow Julie’s instructions.
Then Julie was on my lap. She sat right down on my throbbing erection. Heaved her tits in my face. Held onto my shoulders. Bounced on my lap. Her head leaning down, so it was next to mine.
“Come in me, Steve,” she whispered, her warm breath on my ear. “I want you to come in me.”
Without thinking, I latched my lips onto her nipple. I grabbed hold of my obsessions again. It was all reaction. No planning, no thinking. I was simply following her lead.
“Give it to me,” Julie whispered. “I want it, Steve. I want it all. Give it to me.”
She rode me. Her ass cheeks slapping on my lap. Her succulent pussy sliding on my cock. Her nipples a feast for me.
“Gimme your come, Steve. Just like when you fucked my tits. When you splattered my tits and my face with your come. Oh God, so much come on me. I want it again, Steve. Gimme all your come, baby.”
When my come started spurting, the orgasmic wave of pleasure was massive. Like getting tumbled by an ocean wave. Plunging under the water. Spinning, whirling, with no sense of the world.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Julie’s whispers were hot, moist with spit, on my ear. “That’s it, fill me up. Give it to me. All of it. You fucking stud, I want all of your come in me.”
My come gushed. Orgasmic waves heaved. My body was rocked in their onslaught.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Julie’s husky whispers panted directly into my ear.
After what seemed like forever, my orgasm finally dissipated. Like after the tit-fuck, I was left exhausted, drained, and glowing from my gigantic climax. My mouth released her nipple.
Her lips found mine. We kissed deeply, softly, and I felt waves of love emanate from me and blend with waves of love from Julie.
Is it possible to love two women at once?
Yes, I loved my girlfriend. Tara was an immense joy in my life.
But I also loved Julie. She was more than big tits. Much more. I knew that Julie and I would never be a couple.
I loved Tara so much more than Julie. I knew that I wanted to marry Tara. I had realized that after Kiefer and I had a conversation about marriage back at the bungalow.
Emotions are strange. There I was, coming inside Julie and feeling love for her. But also feeling a gush of love for Tara. Deep, deep love. And knowing that I wanted to marry her.
Truly, emotions aren’t exactly logical. Our swinger adventures had spawned lots of various—and conflicting—emotions in me. So much swirled in me as I had fucked other women and seen Tara fuck other men.
But now, with lovely Julie on my lap, love washed through me. I didn’t try to push it away as Julie lifted off me with a wet squelch, and then I saw Tara on the other stage getting drilled. She and the skinny guy were fucking in missionary position.
Yes, I still loved her as I watched that. Love and other emotions mixing around. Even when the guy pulled out and shot his come on her stomach and tits. Seeing that, I was glad that Julie had whispered her desire for my come rather than shouting it out. It felt respectful of Tara.
I kept thinking about my various emotions as the four of us left the stages.
Tara, Julie, and I hit the showers to clean up. There was a row of outside showers in the pool area. The three of us hugged and kissed as the water sprayed
us. Tara giggled as she lathered soap all over Julie’s boobs. Julie returned the favor, scrubbing off the come that was on Tara’s back, stomach, and tits.
The action took a back seat to my meditation over to my feelings. These feelings of love toward Julie were new. Before was enormous lust—but now love was added to that. I had always enjoyed her company, since we had lots of fun conversations and good times. But love? Not that. Not until we were up on that stage.
The three of us found empty lounge chairs and hung out together. It felt incredibly natural. Tara’s mission for coming to Strathmore had been completed. With that done, we relaxed together. We felt like a team.
But there wasn’t just three. Kiefer and Tiffany joined us. Then Derek, Tara’s new muscular friend. We talked and laughed and sipped wine and watched the healthy, sexy bodies around us. The gods and goddesses of sex enjoying their pleasure. I stopped wondering about my emotions and simply had a great time with these fun people.
As the afternoon flowed smoothly into the early evening, I marveled how easy it felt being with this group of friends, and all of us were naked. It was like we were in a cocoon of acceptance. Go ahead and be naked. Make love in front of other people. The members were cool with all that. They encouraged others to be healthy. Be sexy. Moan and yell out your bliss. Everyone here will be delighted with your pleasure.
This cocoon felt warm and caring. A world apart from the rest of the world out there, beyond the tall bushes and privacy fence that surrounded the Strathmore Club. The world full of strangers who didn’t give a shit for you. So very different than the people here in Strathmore, who toasted to your bliss.
It was a decadent, calming feeling that I realized I could get very used to.
Finally, Tara and I wrapped it up. We hugged and kissed good-byes to the others in our small group. We held hands and walked to the entrance building, where our clothes awaited in lockers.
“Was it what you hoped for?” Tara asked when we were in our car, driving back to our apartment.
We were clothed, and the clothes didn’t feel right.
“Yeah,” I said. “It was amazing.”
Tara gave me a beautiful smile. “Good. That woman has wonderful tits.”
“More than that, though,” I said. “She’s a wonderful person.”
Still smiling, Tara nodded. She looked thoughtful, and I wondered what was going through her head. She said, “Yeah, she is. I like her a lot.”
I figured it was better not to divulge the feelings of love I had felt for Julie. Instead, I said, “How about you? Did you have a good time?”
“Yeah, I did,” Tara said. “I really did. The place was mind-blowing. Never in my wildest dreams did I think a place like that existed.”
“Seriously. How could you?”
“It’s not my style to dream something like that up. It’s more your style. Your pervy style with those porn movies you like.”
Worried she might be upset, I checked on her—but she didn’t look upset at all. I said, “Hey, you enjoy those movies, too.”
She squeezed my thigh for reassurance. “Guilty. We’ve had awesome times watching those. But nothing like today. Today was awesome beyond all that.”
“Like being in a porno,” I said.
“Yeah. And I know you’ve dreamt about that.”
“You haven’t? Sure you have. I bet there were some movies we’ve watched, where you wished you were in there with them.”
Tara nodded. “Guilty again. That’s a big draw of the club, isn’t it? The place lets you act out those desires you keep bottled up.”
“You’re right about that,” I said.
It was time for the big question. The one I had been wondering about, off and on, through the day. I asked, “So, should we join the club?”
We were at a stoplight, and I looked over at her. Her eyes held delight. Maybe she was thinking about the things she had done at the club.
Then something shifted in her eyes, and she said, “Remember the talk we had at that bungalow? After having sex with Kiefer?”
“Of course.”
“What about all that? Our worries over being able to fuck other people and still being a couple?”
Our conversation came back to me. That, and the emotions from the weekend. Of being hurt, jealous, conflicted, thrilled. Especially the hurt over hearing Tara yell out her love of Kiefer’s thick cock slamming into her.
Thankfully, that hadn’t been repeated at Strathmore. Tara didn’t scream in pleasure over Kiefer or her masseur or Derek or that last guy she was with. And I didn’t feel as hurt that day. Maybe because the action didn’t feel as intimate or intense as it did in the bungalow, since it was just the three of us. Maybe having all those people in the club dissipated the hurt.
I had certainly felt jealousy. Over Kiefer’s dick. Over Derek fucking my girlfriend while standing up.
But then, Tara surely had to feel some jealousy over my fixation on Julie’s tits. Even though that was the mission of going to the club, Tara had to have felt pangs of jealousy as I furiously fucked Julie’s boobs.
“You’ve got the green light, honey.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said, and kept driving toward home.
Tara rested her hand on my shoulder. “So? What about what I asked you? About being swingers but staying a couple?”
I took a deep breath and said, “We’re still a couple now. And look at what we’ve done. We’ve been in an orgy and fucked a couple of other people. We’ve been in two threesomes. We survived the pleasure palace back there. And we’re driving home together.”
“You sure you didn’t want to go home with Julie? Go to sleep with your head laying on those big tits, like pillows?”
Frowning, I looked at her, showing that I was serious. “No way. I’m going home with you. You’re my girlfriend.”
She squeezed my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “Good to hear I still am, after all that.”
“And I can say the same thing. After you swooned over Derek.”
“Okay, okay. Let’s not have that conversation right now.”
“But,” I said, “we agreed to keep talking, right? Communicating openly is going to help us. It sure did at the bungalow.”
With a sigh, she said, “Yeah, I know. It is going to help us. We’ve got to keep talking, no matter how painful it is. That’s how we’re going to stay together.”
“So, you’re saying we can handle it. We can handle the club.”
Tara said, “Yeah, I am. I think we should join Strathmore. Try it out for a year. I think we’d have a lot of fun there.”
As images of that day spun through my mind, I said, “You got that right.”
I grinned at her, looking forward to the fun that we would have at the club. All those hot women. All those opportunities.
But more than that, I looked forward to sliding into bed with my girlfriend. And being naked once more. Being rid of these irritating clothes. We’d hug and talk more about this epic day. We’d sleep together, with nobody else crowding our bed.
Tomorrow, on Sunday morning, we’d make love. We’d slowly, deeply, make love. Our warm skin pressing together. Our arms embracing—and her sweet pussy embracing my cock. We’d make love again after eating a huge breakfast that I’d cook. It would be one of our luxurious Sundays that we frequently indulged in. Today, we shared with others. But on Sunday, we’d celebrate each other. We’d celebrate our love.
Chapter 5. Strengthening the Bonds
“Am I enough for you, anymore?”
The question stunned me, and I spun around to face Tara. She stood there, her arms hanging limply down, and she looked vulnerable.
“Why would you ask that?” I stepped cautiously, feeling that was necessary.
Tara said, “Because you’re much more excited when we’re at Strathmore. You’re thrilled to be there, with all those women, and I get the feeling that you’re more excited there than you are with just me.�
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This came from out of no-where. At least, that I could see. Did I miss something leading up to this?
I said, “Honey, that’s not true at all. I’m very excited being with you. Just last week, we had some amazing sex. That was what, Thursday night?”
“Wednesday night,” she corrected. “Can you put the knife down while we talk?”
I followed her gaze to the knife in my hand, and I realized that I hadn’t put it down. When Tara had asked me her stunning question, I had been chopping vegetables for a salad that was to be our Sunday dinner. A big salad with the works: tons of vegetables, some hard-boiled eggs, and garbanzo beans.
Call it Strathmore’s influence. We’d eaten pretty healthy before going to the club—well, Tara was much better at it than me. But, since being members for awhile, we’ve become more focused on eating well and exercising regularly.
The consequences have been wonderful, and I’ve never been in better shape. My muscles aren’t huge, but they’re more visible. And Tara? She looks amazing. She glows with hotness and good health.
But I digress—back to our apartment. I apologized and set the knife on the cutting board, next to the tomatoes waiting to be sliced.
I went back to my argument: “Okay. As I was saying. The last time when it was just us, that was really hot. You said so yourself—at least something to that effect. I certainly remember us laying together afterward and saying how good it was.”
“It was good,” Tara said. “Don’t get me wrong about that. But we used to lay together for much longer. On Wednesday night, we cuddled for a little bit, and then you got up and got a snack and watched TV.”
“I was hungry. And weren’t you on the couch right next to me, also watching TV?”
Tara hugged herself, her arms crossing her belly. “Because I wanted to be next to you, and not alone in bed. But we used to cuddle more after sex. We used to talk about all sorts of things, like what we did that day, and our dreams. Stuff like that.”
“But we talk about our day over dinner. Like the one I’m making.” I jabbed a thumb toward the kitchen counter behind me, at the various ingredients for the salad.
Tara & Steve: A Tale of Swingers Page 24