Tara & Steve: A Tale of Swingers

by August MacGregor

  And I wonder what she’s thinking, if she’s imagining doing naughty things to me.

  My right hand lays on her thigh. The skin is warm and smooth—and the electric charge tingles. Gwen doesn’t rip my hand away. Instead, she glances over her shoulder again.

  We ride on the curvy road, passing the beach and sea to our left. Houses, stores, and hotels blur by on our right.

  My fingers slide under her tan shorts, along her inner thigh. Her body tenses for a moment, then relaxes. I don’t press too far forward. I don’t want her to lose control of the scooter. Getting in a crash would ruin the momentum that we’re building.

  I notice that we’re moving much slower than we did this morning. Maybe it’s something Tara and Gwen planned. Or maybe the women simply want the ride to last longer, with us men behind them.

  Our foreplay ends when we reach the Lujuria resort. We return the scooters to the attendant, who asks if we had a nice ride.

  I snatch the bag of Tara’s new shoes out of her hand and hold it in front of me, to hide the pitched tent at the front of my navy blue shorts. Kevin does the same thing with Gwen’s bag.

  Gwen’s cheeks are flushed. So are Kevin and Tara’s cheeks. Surely, mine matches them. The attendant who takes our scooter keys must know that something is going on.

  I clear my throat and say, “How about we put these bags in our room?”

  A chorus of “Yeahs” and “Good ideas.”

  Our honeymoon suite surrounds us with a welcome embrace of privacy. I shove off my bathing suit. All four pairs of eyes stare at my hard cock. It’s the first private skin to appear among us—outside of the pool and beach.

  Without saying anything, Kevin follows my lead of disrobing, and all eyes turn toward his stiff member.

  Tara’s comment at breakfast repeats in my mind: How long is that tool between your legs? Yeah, his dick has me beat in length and girth. I used to burn with jealousy about being the smaller one in the room, but now I try to just compare and move on. Seems to be a better way to go.

  Tara, studying Kevin’s long rod, says, “Poor boys, you’ve been bundled up.”

  Gwen whisks over to Kevin and kisses him. “I want this,” she says softly. “I want this, honey. Do you want it, too?” Her voice trembles.

  Kevin had questioning moments at breakfast, the waterfall, and the bar as we drank beers. But his hard cock is a big clue for his decision.

  “Yeah,” he whispers. “I want it. Are you sure?”

  She nods, kisses him again, and steps aside. Then she turns to Tara, and they share a look. When their eyes meet, some kind of unspoken communication happens. I think it’s a very good chance that they discussed the details of this situation while they were shopping without us guys.

  Tara moves to Kevin. She reaches down, touches his cock. Kevin gasps. Stroking his rigid member, Tara kisses the guy on the lips as he wears an amazed expression.

  “Mmm,” she hums. “I enjoyed feeling this on the scooter. It feels even better now.”

  Tara kisses him again, leads him by his arm to the bed. She instructs him to lie back, and he complies. He’s completely in her power.

  My wife looks over at Gwen and says, “Any time you want me to stop, you say so. Okay?”

  Gwen nods, looking at Kevin’s tower of cock. “Yes.” The word comes out quickly. But she looks unsure. She’s still absorbing this very unusual situation.

  My wife sits next to Kevin on the bed and says down to him, “Same with you. If you get uncomfortable with something that Steve does to Gwen, you speak up. Okay?”

  Kevin also nods and gives an “Okay.” He looks impatient for her to do something with his dick.

  Which she does. Tara smiles down at him and caresses his tall erection, admiring it.

  Gwen is riveted to the action. Her boyfriend’s dick is in another woman’s hands. Are new and strange and conflicting emotions swirling in her? They did for me, way back at the holiday party, when I saw Kiefer’s dick ease into Tara’s pussy as she was bent over the dinner table. That feels like it happened a lifetime ago.

  “You’re a lucky woman,” Tara says to Gwen. “This is quite a cock.”

  “Yeah.” Gwen’s voice is soft. “It sure is.”

  All of us watch Tara’s gentle hands indulge Kevin’s dick with a slow, soothing touch. Then she bends down and kisses the plump dickhead. Gwen’s eyes grow huge. But she doesn’t say anything—she’s simply a rapt audience.

  Kevin’s head and shoulders lift as he starts to sit up. “Not this,” he says. “I want to have sex with you.”

  Tara smiles at him with his dickhead pressing against her lips. Then she lifts her head a little and says, “Next round, stud boy. You’re too keyed up from the scooter ride. You probably wouldn’t last long if we fucked. And that would bum me out. ’Cause I want to fuck you for a long time, not just for a minute. You wouldn’t want to bum me out, would you?”

  His head vigorously shakes. “No, uh-uh, no way.”

  “Good. Now lie back and relax.” Her fingertips slide up his shaft. “I want to get to know this beautiful cock better.” Her glossy red lips kiss his dick’s purple helmet again.

  Going out on a limb here: I’m guessing every single man on Earth would love to hear his cock called beautiful. Kevin looks so happy, he practically could dance around the hotel room. But he stays put. He lies back and stares at Tara kissing his cock, stroking it.

  Gwen’s hugging herself, maybe unconsciously. She simply stands there, mesmerized by Tara adoring her boyfriend’s hard meat. I step behind her. The tip of my erection touches her butt, which is still covered by her tan shorts. My hands rest on her shoulders. Her shoulders jump, then she gazes back at me for just a moment before swiftly returning to watch her boyfriend get a slow handjob from my wife.

  I kiss Gwen’s neck. My mouth is next to her ear as I say softly, “Weird, isn’t it? The first time I saw Tara with another guy, I was crazy with jealousy. I wanted to rip him off her and fuck her myself.”

  Gwen’s head doesn’t move, and she doesn’t say anything.

  I continue: “But I didn’t do that. As I kept watching, I was turned on. I was actually turned on by another guy’s dick inside her.”

  I step closer to her. My erection presses harder against her. Like back when we were on the scooter. My hands slide down her arms that are still hugging the front of her stomach. I take her hands in mine, and I gently pull on them, tenderly breaking her self-embrace.

  “On the scooter,” I say, my voice still low and my mouth next to her ear, “I loved feeling you against me. I loved feeling your stomach. So nice and warm.”

  I place my hands on her stomach. She flinches, but doesn’t push me away.

  I say, “When you let me touch your thigh, I figured this might happen. You didn’t get mad. You let my fingers slide under your shorts.”

  She sharply inhales as my fingers move down, to underneath the waistband of her shorts. I unbutton her shorts. Push them down. Push down her bikini bottoms. My cock settles between her firm butt cheeks. Gwen moans.

  “Do you like that?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she sighs.

  “Do you like my wife caressing your boyfriend’s cock?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to caress your pussy?”

  A pause, and then she whispers, “Yes.”

  She breathes in stronger when my fingers touch her pussy that’s incredibly wet. Soaking, glorious in its tender flesh, glorious in her pent-up desire, built up from our scooter ride, proof that she was also turned on. Lust spoken now in the wetness of her pussy.

  Gwen’s trembling. Her breathing comes and goes in the quick rising and falling of her breasts.

  I let go of her pussy and step back to quickly remove her bikini top. I press against her again, my cock between her ass cheeks, and I cup her breasts—those targets I didn’t get to touch on the scooter ride.

  “These are beautif
ul,” I say, echoing Tara’s description of Kevin’s dick. “I wanted to hold them the first time I saw them at the pool.”

  I gently squeeze her breasts as we watch my wife lick Kevin’s cock. Kevin looks at my wife, but he takes breaks to look at us. Seeing what I’m doing to his girlfriend. No anger flashes on his face. It’s hard to be angry when someone’s giving your dick the popsicle treatment.

  I leave one hand at Gwen’s tits, while my other hand slides down, to between her legs. She lets out a long moan as I fulfill her unspoken want and caress her pussy.

  Since I’ve started caressing Gwen, she hasn’t looked over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are still glued to Tara and Kevin. His cock, standing dark purple and tall, is glistening wet from Tara’s saliva.

  “She’s making him last a long time,” I say, my lips against Gwen’s ear. “She can go all day if she wants to. Or she could make him come in seconds.”

  Gwen sighs, maybe thinking of the times she’s made Kevin come with her mouth.

  “How about you?” I ask. “Are you gonna come in seconds?”

  Gwen nods. “Soon,” she whispers.

  “But I’m not going quickly.” Which is the truth. My fingers sliding on her pussy lips and my fingers gently pinching her nipple are far from moving quickly.

  “Because I’m so turned on,” Gwen says.

  One of her hands covers my hand that’s between her legs, as I’m feeling her pussy lips and rubbing her clitoris. Softly. Slowly. Her other hand cups her breast that I’m not loving on.

  “It feels so fucking good,” she groans, much louder than her soft words since I first stood behind her.

  Tara holds Kevin’s cock as both of them look toward us, at Gwen’s rising moans.

  Her moans break into a flood of gasps as she lets out a flurry of “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Her trembling turns into shakes. Both of her hands press against my hand on her pussy. Her ass pushes against my cock. She’s not loud. Not like Savannah. Her sounds of rapture rush out with an intensity and emotion that’s actually lower in volume than her normal voice.

  As her shakes dissolve into quivers, Gwen turns around. Finally. From the scooter to now, I had been behind her. But no longer. Her eyes burn with fire. Like a camp fire on the beach.

  Gwen’s eyes burn with an intensity that I have rarely seen before. I’ve witnessed it with Tara and Julie and Claire. And I witnessed it with my girlfriend of long ago: Heather. Quiet and shy Heather, who turned into a savage in bed. Gwen reminds me of Heather. Both had a quiet way about them that belied a surprising adventurousness and a wild passion.

  That wild passion comes out as Gwen and I kiss. Our first kiss. She passes her flames of lust to me through her tongue and lips.

  “Fuck me.” Her heavy whisper jumps from her lips to mine.

  The words are like gasoline on our fire of ache for each other.

  I lift up one of her thighs. I dip down, target my dickhead at the middle of her pussy lips. In a fluid motion, I hoist her up, pushing my cock inside her as she raises off the floor.

  She gasps.

  I love that I surprised her. I love that I can pull off a standing position. I love her ass cheeks in my hands. Such a great ass that I haven’t seen since Betty.

  But more than all those loves, I love how my cock feels inside her pussy. Such velvety sweetness.

  “Holy fuck, Steve,” Gwen says. “Color me impressed.”

  Color me proud. I want to impress the hell out of her.

  “Great job, honey,” Tara adds.

  I’m so fucking proud, I must be glowing brighter than the sun.

  Gwen wraps her legs around my waist. She hugs me around the neck. I bounce her on my cock as best as I can. This position isn’t very comfortable, and it doesn’t allow for vigorous thrusting. But it’s a lot of fun.

  One other thing: I can’t hold the position forever. Soon, I walk us to the bed and gently lie Gwen down, with my dick still inside her. Her legs release my waist. I’m still standing up. At this angle, I can sink deeper into her pussy. Plus, I can see Gwen’s cute face better. I can see her expression of knitted eyebrows, fierce eyes, and soft pink lips open to let her moans out. Her light brunette hair is splayed out on the bed.

  She turns to check on her boyfriend, who’s lying right next to her. Kevin is still on his back, and now my wife is sitting on his face. They’ve shifted to 69, with Tara on top. She adores 69. The ultimate Evie Stevie, she calls it. She swirls her tongue around Kevin’s purple rod.

  Gwen looks up me, and she says, “Fuck me hard.”

  I do. I stare into those burning pools of her blue eyes. Dusky blue, a bit of gray flecks. There are worlds in there, intense worlds of her passion for fucking, for life, for doing daring things. I get lost in those worlds as I pound her pussy.

  Seemingly a long time later, my spellbound staring is broken by Tara’s moaning. She’s sitting straight up, still straddling Kevin’s face, grinding her hips. Gwen and I watch as Tara quivers in an orgasm.

  Then my wife swiftly lowers and goes right for Kevin’s dick. Her head bobs on it, her fist yanks on the shaft. The powerful dual attack of mouth and hand. I can’t last long with that, and neither can Kevin. His hips and ass jerk and jolt around. Tara stays put, lets him come into her mouth.

  Which is something she didn’t do with Luke last night. A clue she’s taken a liking to dear Kevin.

  Gwen and I turn back to each other. I resume my measured pounding. Strong fucking for my cute, tight babe. We kiss, continuing the fire.

  When our kiss ends, my lips latch onto her nipples, sucking them while my hips keep up their vigorous pistoning. It’s a glorious fuck, a fitting cap to a morning of Gwen’s bikini temptation at the waterfall and the afternoon’s foreplay on the scooter.

  When my orgasmic tingling begins, I pull out and turn to the side. Coming on her—like I typically do in swinging—feels too forward. Tara let Kevin come in her mouth, so she obviously feels comfortable with him. But I don’t know about Gwen’s comfort level when it comes to my ejaculation.

  “No,” Gwen says softly. “Not like that. Do it inside me. I’m on the pill.”

  So there’s her comfort level. I accept her invitation, plunge my cock back inside her wetness, kiss her, and thrust a few times before pumping bursts of come into her. As the lady requested. The orgasm slams me, release pounds out of me. Release from the long build-up of the day.

  Afterward, I slip out. Step backward with unsteady legs.

  “You knocked him out,” Tara laughs.

  She and Kevin are sitting on the sofa across the room. Fondling each other and watching Gwen and me.

  “Damn, you came a long time,” Gwen says.

  I give her a tipsy grin. “That’s what happens after a day of waiting.”

  “More like days of waiting,” Tara corrects. “You’ve had eyes for her for awhile.”

  I blush. Gwen blushes, too.

  “And I’ve had eyes on this for awhile,” Tara adds, holding Kevin’s limp dick. “Next time, you better fuck me with this thing.”

  Now it’s Kevin who blushes.

  “So, what did you guys think of your first time swinging?” Tara asks.

  Kevin looks over at his girlfriend. Ladies first.

  Gwen bites her lower lip and looks a little bashful. “Would it be bad to say that I really liked it?”

  “Not at all,” Tara replies.

  Gwen opens up more: “Oh my God, when Steve was behind me and touching me—while I watched you touch and lick Kevin, that was … wow. I mean, I was jealous and upset and really twisted up inside, but it was hot, too. Really fucking hot.”

  I say, “You felt what probably every swinger feels. Those that care deeply about their partner. If you didn’t care as much about Kevin, you wouldn’t have felt all those negative things.”

  While Gwen nods, Kevin says, “I know what you mean. It was so fucking weird watching you hold her up and fuck her. But
… but then I looked down, and another woman was licking my cock. That was fucking weird, too.”

  Tara laughs. “It’s all really weird. And that feeling stays with you for a long time. You get used to the feeling, but it never fully goes away.”

  “Not at all,” I agree.

  My wife smiles at them. “So? You guys are still up for hanging out with us? You’re not going to fuck us and throw us to the side, are you?”

  “No fucking way,” Kevin says and squeezes her tits.

  The mood strikes us to go swimming again, so we put our swimsuits back on and hit the pool. It’s not as dramatic as the pool at the waterfall, but the water feels great. We relish in the afterglow of sex and the secret of our foursome. Tara and Gwen have their bikini tops on, extending the secrecy of our little swinger group. Sorry dudes, these breasts are not on view—not today.

  Savannah and Luke aren’t among the crowd at the pool. Are they nursing a huge hangover? Or are they doing something else, like enjoying sights of the island outside the resort? Just like I thought this morning, I hope they’re okay and having fun, wherever they are.

  Swimming hits the spot after our hot and heavy sex. And we’ve built up big appetites. We decide to eat at the bar next to the pool. The bar provides quicker meals than the nice restaurant where Tara and I have usually eaten dinner on our honeymoon—and where we ate with the Georgia couple last night. Tonight, we’re not in the mood for a long meal.

  We tear into our food as if we haven’t eaten for weeks. We’re famished after fucking and swimming, and the broiled fish sandwiches are welcome sustenance.

  As with our previous meals of the day, conversation comes easily with our new buddies. We talk about the beauty of the island and the waterfall hike we did in the morning. We talk about our backgrounds, of our lives away from this vacation retreat.

  But all during the meal, it’s obvious that we want to get back to sex. At breakfast, Tara and I creaked opened the door to the possibility of swinging. Then, when we slammed the door open at our fucking, it seems that we want to get back to the room of sex as quickly as possible.