Sybil Sainte-Claire

Sex Swappers

Prologue

… Dawn was nineteen-that's what she told us-and as hungry a bitch as any Terry and I had seen for a long time. I felt her straddling my sprawled legs and sensuously grinding her hot pussy on it, so I raised it just a bit as my arms curled around Lance's neck and raised me up.

I felt Dawn lifting my ass just a bit and scooting a pillow under there. "It'll make it even better; baby," she'd hoarsely whispered. "Aaaaahh, just right!"

I thought I could feel the tip of Lance's cock tickling the deepest part of my belly as it rested inside me for a minute before sliding back and almost out of my sucking bush.

I remembered just hours ago when we'd all met-they came in response to our searching ad-and Lance had told us that he was twenty-two but game for anything. The bulge in his pants after five minutes of jabber convinced me and Terry that they'd be good. And they were! … I was in no mood to take this nice 'n' easy. My ass was jiggling like a crazed blender and it must have been me that was causing the whole bed to shake like a vibrator. I found myself actually trying to push my knee up Dawn's warm and yielding crotch and then I felt one of her tits-beautifully shaped, like a large, ripe grapefruit-brushing against my arm as she uncoiled it from Lance's shoulder.

I fell back on the bed, both arms stretched out, and felt Dawn creeping up my leg and bringing one of her juicy-looking tits right up close to my face.

Instinctively, I guess, my mouth opened wide and I gasped as she aimed one of her almost copper-colored nipples right in there. … I felt Terry pat my belly as if he were patting a little kid on the head and then he moved away again. Smoothly, Dawn eased her tit away from between my teeth and I felt her shifting position again.

Strands of her long damp hair brushed against my face and then I felt her hand. cupping my chin-I guess she did that so she could hold my head steady. I looked up through the blinding fog and saw her smooth baby-doll face coming closer… and closer…

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth just a bit. I tried to wet my lips-they felt like they were covered with a sandpaper wrap-but her sleek tapered tongue did it for me…

We'd directed Hans and Sara to The Traders, a small and exclusively private club a group of us had started at first as a neighbors' gathering ground. We hadn't planned for much action and when our membership started growing all out of proportion to the small space we'd originally planned on, several of us got together and decided to lease this huge old two-storied house and set up the club there…

Even after Drew's expert fuck and final tongue job, I felt my cunt hairs hotly sticking together in the electrified air. We greeted old friends, exchanging doubly meant in-house jokes on our way to the table, and made careful mental notes of appealing newcomers we'd like to get to know…

Coolly I flicked the silky auburn strands away from my eyes and totally focused on Hans. His lips were full and rather childlike at the same time they were teasing and inviting intimate interest. As I stared at them, he returned the hunger and I felt his fingers calmly groping my lap as his eyes riveted on the tip of tongue I'd let travel my waiting lips. … Comfortably I spread my legs and wiggled closer as Hans's eager fingers crept through the slit of the fake pocket and rested expectantly on my thigh.

If he was waiting for verbal encouragement, I mused silently, he'd wait for one hell of a long time. I sincerely hoped he was braver than all that. My eyes, in the meantime, were still glued on Hans's mouth but occasionally flicked over to check Drew, suave and handsome, and the elflike Sara on the crowded and vibrating dance floor. … I decided on the closed Sessions to start off with. That way we'd' get to know and feel comfortable with one another more readily. By the time we all got together, there would be no holds barred. … Always dressing for the occasion-whatever it might be-and making sure to provide for the most dramatic home-entertainment films, I at first teased Hans with the zipper of my dress. I snaked my hand up and down the front of my body along the zipper tracks and licked around my slightly ovaled lips. Finally, when his eyes threatened to bulge too far and pop right out of his head, I slowly slid the zipper down and let the dress fall around my booted ankles. It was a tease and has always been a very effective one, if I must say so myself.

My lightly bronzed and faintly freckled body revealed itself in a black mesh version of a hot-pants jumpsuit. My bullet-like erect nipples, now that they were finally freed, proudly poked through the large mesh to greet Hans's admiring and greedy blue eyes. I moved toward him slowly, gracefully stepping out of the puddle and all the while caressing myself and sliding the side of my hand up from my damp cunt and under my firm and jutting breasts. … The beautiful drops of excited perspiration popped out all along his forehead in larger and larger dots as my cunt lips blew kisses to him. I came down easily on my knees and hushed him as I added to his discomfort by holding myself back and slowly unbuttoning the two buttons of his shirt before I tugged if off completely.

"I hunched over him. soixante-neuf position, as I reached to caress his still clothed thighs and proudly bulging red, white, and blue erogenous zone which I would soon free. The cool moistness of his chest chilled my belly and I gritted my teeth for self-control.

The convenient tab of his zipper gently pulled the restraining teeth apart and I burrowed into the inviting slit of his shorts with my nose… prodding him and sucking in his essence…

After our struggling with his belt, the pants unceremoniously fell in a crumbled heap along with the cotton shorts. My mouth automatically ovaled as I stretched out my arms and craned my neck toward the rigid and inviting telescope he directed at me. … Without preparing for my reaction, Hans bent forward and unwittingly, I think, straddled my eagerly waiting head and hot open mouth.

I sucked the juicy mushroom-like cock-head in before he even knew what was happening. The only choice he had open to him-if you'd even call it a choice-was to eat my pussy. That's a privilege, not a choice-unless, of course, he chose to pull his burning cock out of my already slowly sucking mouth.

"He didn't… "

Sugar never tasted sweeter than the night we got to know Beverly. She was going to stay with us indefinitely-no departure time had been set-or at least until Aggie and I had our baby. She was, as she looked, totally natural and almost completely uninhibited. Nudity, we all agreed, was beautiful, and for the first time since Aggie and I had started living together, we all walked around the house nude and singing bawdy-type songs at the top of our lungs.

I knew that Aggie had been more gay than straight before she met me but I never would have dreamed that watching her eye another woman would turn me on as much as it did. At first I was rather blind to the sheepish grins and sly pats on the ass they gave each other, but they were kind and quickly filled me in on what they called 'the scene.'

That first night let me know that this was going to be something I'd never even dreamed of experiencing. Bev strummed her guitar and sang to us while we slowly sipped our drinks… The songs were plaintive yet stimulating and quite erotic and it wasn't long before Aggie and I for got all about our drinks and began to masturbate. … Sitting yoga-style, Beverly spread her thighs… wider apart so as to afford both of us a good teasing view of what lay within. I felt my body craning forward to get closer to her, but it's strange that I didn't feel the jerky motions of my own hand furiously whipping my erect prick back and forth.

Aggie was working her slit more slowly, I noticed, but she kept her eyes wide open and riveted right between our song stress's thighs. … Beverly directed Aggie to the head of the bed, also on her back. Then she crawled in between us, on all fours.

When I looked up and saw her carefully manicured but unpolished fingernails holding the pussy lips wide open, I realized how wisely she'd set this up. I also had an idea of Aggie's role in this trio and I got so excited that I almost creamed before I'd even touched her for the first time.

I squinted my eyes and tried to examine Bev's pussy in every detail, as if storing it in my memory bank for posterity. The lips were distended and a purplish red while the clit itself was a shiny hardness that demanded my utmost attention. I flexed my by now clammy fingers and feebly attempted to dry my sweaty palms before I touched her. Her skin was milk white, glistened even in the shadows, and was cool as a soothing summer breeze. Her pussy smelled like a clean pussy would, but, I also picked up a delicate blended fragrance of flowers and freshly mowed grass or hay of some kind-my favorite scents.

Tenderly, oh so tenderly, I laid my eager hands on this delectable and fragile-looking delight and held her still and poised over my face until I could stop the trembling of my own body. It wasn't until I heard Aggie's whimpering moans and sighs that I actually brought Bev's temple of natural womanhood down to meet my thirsting lips.

My lust rapidly gained uncontrollable dimensions and I felt every nerve ending in my five-foot-nine, one hundred sixty-pound frame go into convulsions as if I'd been plugged into a live socket without having been grounded first. Rather than slamming her pussy onto my face, I guided it gently and applied my tongue with feathery touches until I felt the muscles in her sculptured thighs rippling in their sheer animal excitement. I became more forceful, applying increasing amounts of pressure and taking long laps at the hair-fuzzed vagina.

Both girls were moaning loudly now and I was only sorry that my choice-the girl with the big knockers-couldn't be with us to take care of my lonely prick.

Without disturbing the girls scene, I managed to crawl out from under Beverly's straddling and clamping thighs and approach her from the rear, on all fours, of course. I gripped the fleshy sides of her small hips like handles and held her flagging ass steady before I began.

At first I burrowed my nose just inside the opening of her asshole, I had to clamp my thighs tightly together and concentrate just on the ass to keep from coming again. I had to save that come for more important things, I remembered, and then I calmly took a deep breath and renewed my attention on Beverly's anus.

I ran the tip of my tongue along the familiar path from slit to asshole and back again about five or six times before I was assured by Beverly's response that I was pleasing her as well as myself. To keep her completely happy with my treatment, I slid first two then three fingers up into her pussy and slowly pumped them in and out. Her reaction to this was magnificent! The globes of her smooth buttocks dimpled and relaxed spastically as she flagged her appealing asshole at my mouth. I drove my tongue in deeper and covered the whole of the opening with my lips, sucking it in all the time.

The preceding excerpts are samplers of edited transcriptions contained in this volume. As the title indicates, we are here dealing with the controversial subject of swapping. Who are the swappers? What do they do? etc.

Swapping as defined by Gilbert D. Bartell, Ph.D., in his volume Group Sex: "… is the popular term that has been used by the press and by those who do not participate. The swappers themselves call it 'swinging.' It has also been called what we believe to be more appropriate: group sex. Group sex is a more flexible term and it is more descriptive because it does not restrict itself to married couples…

This book, then, should be titled, Descriptive Group Sex.

Bartell also cites Dr. Ner Littner, medical director of the child-therapy program at the Chicago Institute for Psychoanalysis, for an additional definition of group sex. Dr. Littner, according to Bartell, concluded that the wife swapper is one who, unable to maintain an intimate relationship with his partner, "… builds into his marriage a distancing device. Wife-swapping is a safety valve that keeps intimacy between the two at a level each can tolerate."

Dissenting viewpoints see the wife-swapper as pathetic and ridiculous, a Don Quixote who is trying to have his cake and eat it too-i.e. keep a house, family, and job while searching, sometimes fruitlessly, for pleasures and all the things associated with youth and good looks.

Dr. Bartell's interview subjects defined "swinging" as having sexual relations as a couple with at least one other individual. In this definition, two swapping couples who meet and privately pair off with the member of the opposite sex are still swinging even though they are not having it "orgy style." He also notes, some-what strangely, that swingers are constantly looking for new partners because "the typical couple swings with another couple just once." We find this latter view credulous when allowing for the consideration that the swinging couple would not want a relationship to get "sticky" a la personal involvement.

Group Sex points out taboos in swinging as well. The main banned items mentioned include long hair and beards, hippie types, blacks, and, for the most part, poor people who somehow have not developed the palate for such unconventional behavior.

The subjects interviewed for this book range in age from nineteen to the late forties. These people are not, by any means, the norm of swingers. Rather they are those individuals who will not only swap partners, but will also talk about it to someone who is writing a book.

Contrary to our research, Dr. Bartell has found (mainly in the Chicago area) that "… swinging is essentially for couples, and, although there are, single male swingers and single female swingers, the fact that they are single puts them at a definite disadvantage." Two singles, on the other hand, can circumvent that minor difficulty by appearing at a swingers gathering and announcing themselves as man and wife.

William and Jerry Breedlove, in their book titled Swap Clubs, have estimated that there are approximately eight million swinging couples in America and that "nearly seventy thousand couples reply to or place ads as swinging couples in swingers' magazines annually. Los Angeles and San Francisco are said to have the largest concentration of swingers, with the New York area ranking second, the Chicago area third.

Also according to Dr. Bartell's extensive study of mate swappers, the majority of swingers were white. He did, of course, conduct a rather small-scale survey and this last point is contestable. And it is noted that age plays a very important role in the swinger's life. The same holds true for homosexuality.

According to the Bartell survey, the swinger has a leeway of ten years, one way or another, that is considered a "safe bet." "…Swingers tend to reject couples who are more than ten years older than themselves… "