"Swap Talk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thirdwall Robert)

Chapter 7

When I saw Helen the next day it was clear that the show was over. Whatever compulsion had been driving her from our first naive, hesitant experiences to orgiastic heights such as that night at the Black Cat Club had finally burnt itself out. She and the others have told me in detail about the other three stops their road show made, and nothing unpleasant happened at any of them. The one at Memphis, in fact, had been a wild success. Helen and Marie had dressed up as little girls with Judy as their mother, and the audience had gone wild watching the girls getting their skirts thrown up and screwed by Frank and Dave dressed as little boys, whom the mother then punished in a predictable fashion. But, still, the overall effect of the trip had been exhausting, mentally and physically.

I don't mean to say, of course, that I had not been acting under a compulsion, too. But as I've mentioned before, as Helen's drive became more demonstrative and exhibitionistic, my own drifted more toward voyeurism. I've seen about all there is to see along sexual lines, and felt about all there is to feel, and I don't regret it. I can't say I've gotten it out of my system, because you can't get sex out of your system. It is your system. But now that we both know the full physical dimension of it, the mystery is gone and with it the urge to explore. I think well be like native New Yorkers who live in the city for years and never go to the top of the Empire State Building. We know what we'll see when we go to the top, so why should we go.

Only time, of course, can endorse all of this reflection I've been indulging in. Actually, Helen and I have done better than that. For two whole weeks now we've confined our sex to the normal quota for an average married couple, and we've been enjoying it. I had forgotten how nice it could be to fuck your own wife just once, conventionally and unenergetically, and then fall quietly asleep in each other's arms. There's no doubt about it: Helen is a damn good lay.

And there are fringe benefits to calling a halt to our frantic career, as well. I'm able to concentrate on my work better, which is certainly a welcome improvement in my boss' eyes, and Helen and I have more time for each other. In two weeks we've already turned down three dates that would have really turned us on a month ago, one of them a monster party by the Ungers. We haven't quite gotten down to the pipe and slippers before the fire routine, but the idea of it looks more attractive now than it ever has before.

I also think Helen has gotten prettier since we stopped. It's been a long time since I've seen her in blue jeans and an old shirt instead of a transparent dress with net panties. She's regaining a natural look I haven't seen on her since we used to go sailing with our first swapping friends. She looks better without makeup.

I will miss our friends, though. I may someday forget the precise feel of fucking Marie and Judy and Sue Ann, but I'll always remember them as friendsССand their husbands, too, of course. And the other people we've met swinging have been great, too. Back when I used to smuggle sex books into the house and read them on the sly, I got the impression that swingers were all tough, neurotic, callous people who went in for whips and boots and came to a bad end. But I don't think that's the case at all. Swingers I've known are people like anyone else; they simply like sex and don't mind sharing it with others. Some have had some pretty bad hang-ups about it, but on the whole not as bad as other people I've known who bottle their feelings up inside. Inevitably I think we will have to drop our swinging friends. It would be discouraging for them to have us around when they went to have some fun.

Hold everything! A new chapter may have begun. I just went out to get a bottle of booze for drinks with a new couple from next door that Helen had invited over for coffee, and what do I see in the living room when I get back? Helen sucking away at an absolutely gorgeous blonde cunt while this guy from next door is cramming it into her from behind. As soon as I finish this sentence, I'm going to get my pants off and go in there and find out just how hot and tight that girl's slippery little crack is.