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From: "Andrew O'Nath" <agjonath@ozemail.com.au>
Subject: {ASSM} Swoon {F+M+, FM rom cons}
Date: Fri, 25 Feb 2000 12:10:06 -0500
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Swoon {F+M+, FM rom cons}
=====
Copyright (c) 1999, 2000 by A.G.J. O'Nath <agjonath@ozemail.com.au>
This story is a work of fiction and is intended for adults (over 18) only.
Comments welcome.

Suzanne and I have been married for almost six years and live in a pleasant
seaside suburb of Sydney. We've talked on and off for a while about the
possibility of having children but, having never reached the level of
commitment needed to stop using contraception, we are still what some
people refer to as 'DINKs' (Double Income, No Kids). I work as a Community
Arts Officer with the local council and Suzanne is a Marketing Manager for
a big theatre company.

I am quite tall, thin and apparently not bad looking. Suzanne
is also fairly tall, for a woman, but her most striking feature is her
long, wavy, red hair, which contrasts dramatically with her pale, flawless
skin. She is very elegant, with fine--almost sharp--facial features. Many
people, both male and female, admire her.

In many ways we have a good relationship--most of the time. We certainly
enjoy the sex. Sometimes however, I wonder if we really are compatible.
Suzanne can be almost cut-throat in her dealings with people. Recently,
things have become rather strained between us. I have sensed that Suzanne
is bored with life, even bored with me. Our love-making has started to
become a little routine--and less frequent.

One day, I suggested relationship counselling. Although at first Suzanne
wasn't particularly interested--which surprised and saddened me--she did
eventually come around to the idea. So, I found someone near Suzanne's
work, a woman in her early thirties named Cameron. We started seeing her on
a weekly basis and, although she seemed quite good, for many weeks there
was no noticeable improvement in our relationship, certainly no
'breakthrough'. On the one hand, I felt that Suzanne was always blocking
and denying her own feelings; on the other hand, Suzanne felt that I always
tried to control everything, putting too many expectations on her and on us.

At one session however, Suzanne surprised us both--and possibly herself--by
admitting something for the first time: "I just feel Andrew I and have
gotten into a rut ... and ..." Her voice trailed off.

"And ...?" Cameron asked.

"And ... maybe ... maybe we need some sort of change."

I was about to say something like "Aha! I knew it!" when Cameron spoke again.

"A change?" she asked.

Suzanne started to open her mouth, but closed it again, playing nervously
with her hair instead.

Cameron tried to stop Suzanne retreating from her feelings again. "Do you
mean like a temporary separation?" Cameron continued.

"No ..." Suzanne paused. Then, about five seconds later: "I don't know ...
maybe."

I was taken aback. I waited for Cameron to dismiss this as an attempt to
run away from the real issues, but instead Cameron turned to me and asked,
"What do YOU think?"

I had to consider my response carefully. After all, I didn't want Suzanne
to think I was trying to hold onto her desperately or limit her options.
But I didn't want a separation either.

After a long, awkward silence, Cameron spoke again, "OK, I can see this is
a problem for you Andrew."

"No, it's just that ..."

"Well look," she continued, without waiting for me to finish, "let's try a
different tack. How would each of you feel about the idea of playful, open
sex in a group setting ... with different partners?"

"You mean ... swinging?" asked Suzanne, noticeably startled.

Cameron smiled. "Yes, that's a common name for it. At least that's a better
word than 'wife-swapping' I suppose!"

Suzanne laughed, nervously.

Cameron continued, "I've actually known a few couples whose relationships
have improved as a result of it." She asked us both again, "So what do you
think?"

"Are you serious?" I asked incredulously. Cameron just nodded.

I tried to work out how Suzanne might have been feeling. She had looked
quite shocked at first, but now her expression seemed ambiguous. (What I
didn't realise at the time was that she was even more shocked than I was.)
But I was tired of waiting to see which way the wind was going to blow; I
decided instead to act decisively, to take a risk. "Yeah, all right," I
said at last.

Suzanne's eyes widened and then seemed to glaze over. Cameron and I began
to make arrangements, while Suzanne's mind drifted off somewhere.

Eventually Suzanne's concentration returned to the consulting room and she
seemed to be paying attention to what we were saying again.

"Here's the address," Cameron said. "Now you'll need to arrive between
seven-thirty and eight. That's very important."

This is when Suzanne realised that a "swingers' party" was being organised
for us, even though she had not actually said OK. She told me later that
she felt annoyed at first but for some reason said nothing. It was as
though her anger and the motivation to speak out were locked somewhere
inside her. (Maybe in a strange way, she even enjoyed being powerless.
Was this part of the problem between us?) Suzanne's mind started
drifting again and before she knew it, the session was over and the two of
us were being seen out the door, with me holding a business card with the
details of the party written on the back.

By this stage, Suzanne had resigned herself to the plan, as strange as it was.

***

It was 7:50 pm on the appointed date. Suzanne and I arrived at the door of
a large terrace house. I knocked.

I could scarcely believe this was actually happening. Surely something like
this was just a fantasy--exotic, forbidden, debauched--yet it was about to
come true. I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Suzanne's feelings
were so mixed up however that they almost cancelled each other out, leaving
her feeling numb.

We could hear voices inside the house. Finally, the door opened and a man
with short, spiky, blonde hair appeared. He looked about 35.

"Hi. You here for the party?" he said.

We nodded.

"Password?" the man asked.

"Kubrick," I replied. Suzanne smiled slightly, presumably at the
not-too-subtle reference to that famous director's final movie.

"Come in," the man said, gesturing with a smile. We followed him and
immediately noticed how warm it was inside.

"I'm Peter."

"Hi, I'm Andrew."

"Suzanne."

Peter led us to the entrance to a large room filled with people. He
gestured to a small table just outside the doorway, with a large, open
appointment book on it. After registering and paying, we entered the room
and noticed a small bar at one end. We ordered our drinks--a gin and tonic
for Suzanne and a light beer for me. From the din of conversation it appeared
that many of the other guests must have already known each other. We just
sipped our drinks quietly.

Shortly after 8 o'clock, Peter--the man who had answered the door--clinked
on a glass to get everyone's attention and, when the noise had stopped,
began to address us. "Welcome, everyone. I can see a number of familiar
faces here tonight but for the benefit of newcomers, I'll run through the
few simple rules.

"Firstly, in a few minutes, each person who is staying will be issued with
a freshly washed, white cotton wrap--a small one for the men and a larger
one for the women. For the rest of the night you will all be wearing this
.... or nothing at all. You can get undressed in here or in one of the
bathrooms that come off the hallway. We have secure lockers for your
clothes and other belongings at no extra charge.

"Secondly, if you decide now that you don't want to go through with
tonight's activities after all, you can get a refund--minus ten dollars to
cover drinks--with no questions asked. We don't want to force anybody into
anything.

"Thirdly, what you do with each other tonight, as long as no-one is
physically hurt and there is total consent from both--or all--sides, is
totally up to you. In each room there's a large, red 'panic' button. Press
this if you feel your rights are being infringed in any way. Jacquie, my
wife, and I will also be cruising around throughout the night making sure
everything's OK.

"Fourthly, with the exception of the kitchen and one other room clearly
marked 'private', you are free to go anywhere in the house, courtyard and
pool area.

"And finally, please leave your guilt behind and have a great time!"

Jacquie and Peter distributed the wraps and a number of people started
getting undressed right there, but Suzanne and I headed for the bathrooms.
I emerged first with my wrap around my waist, clutching my clothes
nervously in front of me, and waited for Suzanne. As I waited, the
butterflies in my stomach seemed to multiply. All around me, naked or
nearly naked men and women were walking and talking excitedly. Some were
already flirting or even touching each other intimately. I couldn't help
noticing the many differently shaped and sized penises, in various stages
of erection.

Eventually, Suzanne emerged, with her wrap around her torso, also clutching
her clothes. She smiled at me and we headed for the lockers. After securing
our clothes, I said, stupidly, "Well, here we are."

"Yes, here we are," she said, echoing the obvious.

"So, where do you want to go first?" I asked.

She shrugged.

Just then, a very good looking man, NOT wearing a wrap, came up to Suzanne
and introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Phillip," he said.

"Hi Phillip. I'm Suzanne ... and this is Andrew."

"Hi," he responded automatically, but it was obvious he was not at all
interested in me. His penis, which was already starting to thicken, hung
about 45 degrees out from his body. "Would you like to come with me to the
pool?" he asked, looking directly at Suzanne.

"OK," she said, and immediately left with him.

I just stood there, stunned. I had expected at least some hesitation from
her, some acknowledgement of my feelings or of what was happening, but
instead she had just walked off without even saying goodbye. This was not
at all how I had imagined a swingers' party to be. I had pictured the two
of us having our new sexual adventures TOGETHER. But instead here I was,
standing by myself, surrounded by complete strangers.

After a minute or so of feeling sorry for myself, I started aimlessly
walking in the opposite direction. After all, I didn't want it to look as
though I was spying on her. I went down a hallway, around a corner and
up to an open door. Inside were about ten naked people, already in the
middle of--there was no other word for it--an orgy. They certainly hadn't
wasted any time! Amongst all the bare flesh, I could make out five penises,
all bright red and hard, being thrust repeatedly into open mouths, vaginas
and anuses. I felt strangely detached. I probably could have joined in
somehow, if I wanted to. But instead, I walked on.

Over and over again, the same thing happened, upstairs and downstairs. I
would come across people in groups of two, three or more, fucking
furiously, watch for a minute or so and then move on. I had no idea the
house was so large.

I saw a doorway ahead of me, which lead out to a courtyard. I could feel
the fresh air and realised how stuffy it had become inside. On the floor
just inside the doorway, a middle-aged man was kneeling, thrusting his cock
slowly and rhythmically into a much younger woman, also kneeling. I stepped
carefully around them. The man seemed to be totally oblivious to my
presence but the woman glanced up as I walked past and looked me straight
in the eye. The expression on her face, of total unashamed abandonment, had
a strong and sudden effect on me; for the first time since Suzanne had left
with the other man, I could feel my penis start to harden and rise under
the cloth. I paused momentarily, wondering if I should listen to my
desires, when the woman on the floor closed her eyes and began to moan
loudly. At the same time the man behind her started to jerk uncontrollably,
obviously spurting his cum into her. Curiously, the hungry feeling in my
loins began to recede and I moved past them, out into the night air.

I breathed in deeply and noticed the unmistakable smell of chlorine.
Looking around I could see, through a gap between some palm trees, the
blue, flickering light of a swimming pool. I hadn't meant to end up here
but here I was anyway. As if in a trance, I walked slowly towards the glow.
The 'trance' was so deep that I almost tripped over a couple spread out on
a large beach towel in front of me: a woman lying on her back with her legs
wide apart and a man, prostrate between her legs, licking and sucking her.

Then he saw them--Suzanne and Phillip. Suzanne was sitting back on the edge
of a large outdoor sofa with legs apart, receiving Phillip's thick cock as
it thrust repeatedly in and out of her. I wasn't sure if either of them had
seen me; I just stood there, staring. Immediately a flood of conflicting
emotions washed over me: desire, jealousy, excitement, anger, passion,
hurt. My attention focused more and more tightly on the area where
Phillip's penis kept disappearing into Suzanne's vagina, her fleshy outer
lips widening and bulging with every in-thrust and her dark red inner lips
clutching the veiny shaft with every withdrawal. I looked at her outer lips
again. Something was different and it wasn't just my new vantage-point.
Suddenly it hit me--Suzanne had shaved herself. (Her pubic hair is normally
bushy and red.) Suzanne knew quite well that I like shaved pussy but had
never done it to herself until now ('too itchy when it grows back,' she'd
always say). Now she had finally done it--at home before we came, I
assumed--but the first man to enjoy it wasn't me! My emotions may have been
confused but my cock certainly wasn't; it was pushing hard at the cloth
around my waist again.

Slowly, I moved away from the two of them. I was heading back for the open
door when I noticed a woman sitting by herself on a low, stone wall to my
right. Even though part of me wanted to retreat from everyone and
everything at that point, I found myself going over to her. She was still
wearing her wrap. I glanced down at mine, relieved to see that my
erection had mostly subsided.

"Hi," I began. "My name's Andrew."

"Hi, I'm Mandy."

"Hi. So ... what do you think?" I asked, looking around.

"Of this party?" she asked.

"Mmm," I replied, perching on the wall next to her.

"To tell you the truth, I was seriously thinking of leaving."

"Yeah? How come?"

"Well, it wasn't my idea to come here in the first place. My ... partner
kind of talked me into it."

"So where is he now?"

"Oh, shagging some woman--or women--somewhere, I assume. This isn't his
first time."

"Is it yours?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Me too."

Mandy asked, "So where's your ...?"

"Wife?"

Mandy nodded. I just pointed to Suzanne and Phillip, who by now were in a
sixty-nine position, sucking and licking each other like there was no
tomorrow.

"Hmmm ..." Mandy said softly.

Again, seeing my wife and a stranger nearby having sex had an effect on me
that I was unable to control--my heart raced and my cock stiffened. I
looked quickly back at Mandy as if that was going to stop my desire, but
instead noticed how attractive she was. (I don't know why it hadn't
registered with me earlier.) I quickly changed positions to hide my
erection (which wasn't easy with just a thin piece of cotton around my
waist). Mandy's hair was short, straight and a very dark, warm brown. It
framed her face beautifully, revealing her high cheekbones and finely
sculpted jaw and neck. Her eyes were a deep blue, surrounded by long, dark
lashes. Apart from a very natural-looking shade of lipstick, she seemed to
be wearing no make-up. In short, she was breathtaking!

"So what kinds of things do you like?" she asked.

This took me by surprise. I expected that keeping the conversation going
would be up to me. I was also surprised that she didn't ask what my job
was. "Oh, let's see ... art, theatre, computers..."

"Modern art?" she interrupted.

"Yes, definitely."

"Like what, for example?"

"Oh ... Kandinsky. Especially the stuff from the 'twenties and 'thirties."

A smile flashed across her face. "Me too!" she said. Her smile was
exquisite, appearing to light up the whole area where we were sitting.

"And Matisse," I continued. "When I see a great, original painting by Matisse,
I just swoon."

"What a lovely word--'swoon'," Mandy laughed.

As we talked and laughed, about art, life, music, friendship and writing
(in fact Mandy was a writer of children's books), her face and body
seeme to be moving closer and closer to mine. Even though I had given up
the idea of making any sexual advances on her, I was feeling deliciously
light-headed, like a teenager in love. I wanted more than anything else
just to lean over and kiss her, but stopped myself. I had to remind myself
that she never really wanted to come here in the first place.

There was a long pause in the conversation; instead of talking, we just
looked at each other.

A sharp cry or gasp caught Mandy's attention; she looked to her left and my
eyes followed. We saw three men and a woman around a chair near the pool.
The woman, who was facing us, was Suzanne and it was she who had been
making the noises. She was sitting on one man's lap, impaled on his large,
upright cock, while another man stood beside her with his cock in her mouth.
Still another was kneeling on the other side, licking her breasts. I noted
that none of the men was Phillip.

Mandy glanced back at me and smiled weakly, then looked down at the ground.
There was another lengthy pause.

I was wondering what Mandy was thinking; maybe she was considering leaving
again; maybe this was all getting a bit too much for her. Suddenly, after a
minute or so, she spoke again, still looking down. "Do you want to fuck me?"

I was startled to say the least. "Do you want me to?" was all I could come
up with as a reply. I was still not sure that this was what she REALLY
wanted. Maybe she felt it was kind of expected of her.

Instead of answering, Mandy smiled directly at me again, reached up inside
my wrap and gently held my penis. There was no hesitation or ambivalence
for me now; in less than a second, my organ went from semi-limp to rock
hard.

With her other hand, Mandy reached for the top of her wrap, just above her
breasts. With a slow, rolling motion, she pulled it apart and let it fall
away from her body. I was delighted. Her breasts were small but beautifully
shaped, topped with dark, hard nipples. Her gently rounded tummy led down
to her pubic hair, which had been neatly trimmed into the shape of a heart.
Her legs were athletic yet shapely, like a dancer's.

I stood up and removed the wrap from my waist; my penis slapped up against
my body, shiny, red and hard. I pointed to her heart-shaped pubic hair then
asked with a smile as I kissed her on the neck, "So who's your hairdresser?"

Mandy laughed. "I know this man with a special talent in that area."

"I love it."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Would you ... like a closer look?"

I knew what she meant--especially as she was now spreading her legs apart
and parting her pussy with the tips of her fingers.

I knelt on the path in front of her and moved my face close to her crotch.
I could smell and feel the warm, sweet, steamy aroma of her sex. With my
tongue extended, I made contact. I felt the wet, fleshy folds of her labia,
parting, the engorged nub of her clitoris, swelling, and the deep cave of
her vagina, opening. I formed my tongue to a point and drove it in. Each
time I withdrew, I swept upwards towards her clitoris and down again. Then
I started using my fingers--pulling her cunt wide open and gaping. Mandy
pushed her hips forward and moaned. "How would you like to use your cock
now?" she whispered.

I moved my tongue up over her clitoris one more time, across her tummy to
her breasts, then up her neck to her mouth. We kissed long and
passionately. Meanwhile, Mandy's hands were caressing my chest and tummy.
They soon zeroed in on my penis and, with one hand pushing my buttocks
forward and the other holding the tip of my cock, she guided me into her. I
could feel the cool night air that had been surrounding my shaft replaced
with the warmth of her cunt.

Mandy immediately began to push herself onto my erect penis. She wrapped
her hips around me, grinding her pussy around on my cock. Her juices began
to stream down my shaft and onto my balls. Her inner cunt-muscles
contracted, moulding themselves to the contours of my penis. I slowly
withdrew then thrust back up, hard. I repeated this again and again,
falling into rhythm with Mandy's slow grinding.

I loved the way the way we were fucking: slow, sensuous, smouldering. As
intense as it was, there was no need to hurry; we just enjoyed touching
each other and being touched, fucking and being fucked. Mandy stroked my
buttocks with her fingertips, then reached between them and gently cradled
my balls. I caressed her belly in overlapping, circular motions, from
her vulva up to her breasts, then playfully tweaked her nipples.

Loud slurping sounds were coming from Mandy's cunt. With every thrust,
her clitoris squashed against my upthrust pubic bone, pushing her closer
and closer to orgasm. And then ... and then it was upon her.

"Oh! Oh!! Don't hold back!" she pleaded, softly but desperately. As she
rode out her orgasm, her inner cunt-rings tightened, pulling and sucking as
if trying to milk the cum out of my balls by contractions alone. Her body
jerked up and down, breasts jiggling, buttocks squirming, thighs gripping
my haunches. Then, with a cry, I shuddered and a torrent of semen shot
deep into her vagina.

Again, I pulled out and then thrust back into her all the way. Thick,
creamy goo spilled from her hole, dribbling back over my balls. Mandy
hunched her cunt at me like crazy, milking my twitching cock to the last
drop. Finally, my cock popped out, still semi-hard, and rested against her
deep red cunt-flower, a final drop of cum oozing from its tip. She
shuddered, then clung to me adoringly, resting her head on his shoulder.

As we kissed and stroked each other, Mandy whispered in my ear, "What are
you doing this weekend?"

I looked at her and smiled. "Why?" I asked.

"I'm staying in a cabin up the coast this weekend, supposedly to work
on my next book; but I think I could be talked into some other kinds of
activities," she said with a wicked grin.

I remembered that Suzanne and I were supposed to be going to a barbecue at
Suzanne's sister's place that next Sunday; but the idea of spending a whole
weekend with Mandy was so appealing I knew he would just have to make it
happen somehow. "There's something planned, but nothing that can't be
unplanned," I said, truthfully.

I knew my life was about to get very complicated. The sense of control over
my world that was normally so important, now seemed strangely trivial. I was
being offered a gift so precious I dared not refuse.

I was really swooning now.

THE END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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