Roger Grayson
A Neighborhood Party

1

"For God's Sakes, Harry, get away from that window. Haven't you ogled that little bitch next door enough for one day?" Marsha Burns scolded at her husband from across the room where she had the Sunday paper laid out on the floor. "Her husband's going to catch you eyeing her and be over here with a baseball bat in a few minutes."

"Man," he replied, turning toward his wife and smiling. "I'd give a whole month's pay to get a little of that stuff. I haven't seen anything that young and tender since we had that trip to Europe three years ago. I could really go for that little doll."

He turned slowly from the den window where he had been looking out over his new neighbors' back yard, paused for a moment and then stole another quick glance at the young, lithe blonde in the tight shorts pushing the lawn mower next door. He sighed heavily and walked across the room to where his wife was lying in her robe on the thick, soft mohair rug.

"I like 'em with experience too, baby, don't get me wrong," he grinned, dropping to his knees to sit beside her on the floor. "I spent too many years training you the right way not to appreciate it, but you gotta admit a little strange stuff never hurt anyone."

"Well, I'm glad it doesn't." Marsha Burns looked up at him from the floor. "If it did, you'd have been dead and gone a long time ago."

"Baby, that's where I get the experience to keep a nympho like you happy. I couldn't have held on to you for three minutes if I weren't the best. Now could I? Besides, you get your share from the club."

Harry reached down the length of her long, well-shaped legs to the back of her knees and playfully brought his hand up under her robe, pushing the hem abruptly up the backs of her thighs before she could resist.

"Ohhh, you beast," she jumped forward trying to escape the playful fingers coursing their way up along the sensitive parts of her legs. "Stop, stop it, Harry, please, please," she giggled out of control, knocking the cup of coffee she had been drinking into the air and spilling it across the rug, "Look what you done now. Ohhhh, Ohhhh, God stop, Harry, please stop."

Harry grinned above her, placing one hand in the small of her back and pinning her to the floor, continued his rummaging up between his wife's flailing legs and laughing aloud at the same time at her helpless squeals for mercy.

"No pants this morning, eh," he chided loudly as her robe flew up, exposing the lush, white, rounded cheeks of her buttocks. "Don't tell me I don't have a nympho here. Didn't I give you enough last night. Didn't I, didn't I?"

"Ohhhh, yes, Harryeee! Yes, yes, anything you say, just stop it! Stop it, you're driving me crazy!" his wife bucked and twisted beneath the hand holding her tightly to the floor, laughing uncontrollably from the playful tickling he was subjecting her to.

"Anything I say, anything," he demanded playfully, continuing the twisting of her flesh between her legs.

"Yes! Ohhhh, yes, anything, anything!"

"Help me get in those short pants next door?"

"Yes, damn you, yes, just stop, stop!"

He laughed aloud again and released his hold on her squirming body, withdrawing his hand from up under her robe. "That's my baby, knew you wouldn't deny me anything."

"You bastard," his wife grinned up at him as she rolled over and smoothed the wrinkled material back into place. "I might have known you had something in mind when you started playing that little game of hanky panky with me."

"Nonsense, love, you know I would have done that anyway. Besides, after we discuss this little matter and decide how we're going to approach it I just might give you a little reward: You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Mmmmm," she smiled up at him, coquettishly. "I might just accept your offer if you think you're up to it."

"Baby, I'm always up to it." He said rising from the floor. "What about a pick-me-up to stir up the blood a little? After all, it's Sunday and that's as good an excuse as any."

"Since when did you need an excuse to swill that stuff down? If I don't kill you first then one of these days it will."

"I can handle it, Sweetie, you know that," he winked at her. "What'll you have?"

"If you're really serious about that offer," she smiled, "I'd better have a little vitamin with it. Make it a good strong screwdriver and easy on the orange juice."

Harry walked behind the well stocked bar and mixed the drinks quickly and skillfully while he hummed happily to himself. He knew now that as soon as he had Marsha's agreement on the seduction of their young, luscious new neighbor that it wouldn't be long before he was in. She had never failed him yet when she had put her heart in a thing and he knew that she had an interest also in the young punk of a husband the girl had. He and Marsha made a good pair, he mused as he poured two generous shots of vodka into each glass on the bar in front of him. They both liked the innocent, virginal type that took some real work and planning to get at. The triumph was so much greater when it became a real act of seduction and not just one of the swapping things that they had become so involved in. Of course, he enjoyed those too, but the recruiting of new members was the fun part. Taking two young innocents this way and leading them on into a social life that they thought was modern and liberal until all of a sudden, without warning, they were watching each other get screwed silly by someone they hardly knew.

Aside from the fact that his new neighbor was a cute little wench that he'd really like to give it to, he'd enjoy seeing the expression on the face of that punk kid the first time he saw his young wife getting a fuck thrown to her by someone else. This would be half the satisfaction and would be good to take him down a peg or two. Harry smiled in satisfactory anticipation. He had seen a thousand like that kid, fresh in the business world and knowing it all. All dressed alike in their permanent press button-down shirts and Ivy League suits, and all ready to conquer the world. His old man had probably put him through school, too, and maybe even landed him the job. He hadn't had to scrounge the best he could to get ahead like he himself had had to do, starting as a used car salesman during the depression when people could afford a car like they could fly to the moon. Well, he had learned a few things about living and life that he could teach that young punk and all his kind. They thought they knew it all with their constant demonstrations against this and that cause that they hadn't really enough experience to fully understand. Well, maybe he didn't understand those things either as much as he should but he did know about people and enough to understand that there was nothing they wouldn't do if subjected to the right circumstances. By God, he would make certain his new neighbors got their chance to be subjected to those circumstances.

"What's taking so long with those pick-me-ups?" His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the lazy drawling voice of Marsha floating across the room. "You must be stalling. Aren't planning to renege on your promise, I hope. I might change my mind about helping with the little hussy next door."

"Not on your life, baby. You're going to get a working over like you haven't had since last night. I'm gonna practice up a little for the little bitch next door."

"Well, I don't know about that. I'd kinda like to be taken for me, and not some young chick you don't even know will put out."

"Oh, she'll put out all right," Harry grinned, nodding his head positively. "With the plan I've got worked out, we'll have 'em both in the rack within a week."

"You don't even know if you can talk to them, my dear boy. Didn't he kind of cut you off yesterday when you invited them over for a drink?"

"Yeah, he did," Harry winced in remembrance, handing the orange-colored drink down to Marsha and taking a seat beside her. "Gave me the impression he felt he was just a little too smart to mix with the likes of a used car salesman. He's been to college and all that. Even works in a bank as an investment executive, but it still don't cut no mustard with me."

"My dear, you're a very modest used car salesman. After all, you do own five agencies here in the County. That should make you just about the richest used car salesman in the country."

"Just a figure of speech," Harry smiled turning his glass up and draining a large swallow from it. "It doesn't seem to matter how far you go in this business, though, everyone still thinks you're just a salesman and there doesn't seem to be anyone any lower on the social ladder than one who sells cars no matter how rich they might be."

"I think it's just that put-on home-spun attitude of yours. You know, `I'm just a country boy type.' But you can't kid me, Harry. I've lived with you long enough to know that you push that image to the hilt."

"Never had a complaint in the business," Harry said. "Nobody likes to admit they've been had by a yokel even if you've taken the shirt off their back. They even brag to their friends about the good deals they get and then they come down to get their shirts taken off too. It's all one big merry-go-round. But we can't complain, can we? We're doin' pretty well."

"Mmmmm, Why do you think I left the chorus line in Vegas, my dear? Certainly not your good looks."

"Is it all money, baby? Is that why you've stuck around for eight years?" Harry grinned his broad grin again and placed his hand on the back of her thigh, massaging the soft, sensitive flesh gently.

"Harry," she crooned softly, "Be careful, we've got business to plan out remember." She looked up at him coyly as he continued the teasing ministrations.

Marsha gritted her teeth slightly as she felt the old feeling drifting slowly through the tips of her nerves. She was lucky to have Harry for a husband and she knew it well. He was one of the wealthiest and most successful car dealers in the country and took very good care of her in spite of the flamboyant crudeness and periodic streaks of cruelty in his sometimes overzealous sexual demands. Not that she minded the latter, she mused, she was almost as bad as he was and perhaps that was what held them together. He didn't mind at all what she did as long as she didn't hide it from him and was there when he needed her. But, by the same token, he did whatever he liked also in the way of outside sexual activity but would never hide it from her. In fact, it had made their marriage more exciting than anything else and had brought them closer together. Then, there was the swap club too.

Yes, both by common consent had had their own little affairs but had never let them get beyond the physical stage. It was kind of like having your cake and eating it too and had added so much interest to their lives together that she could never want it any other way. She liked the arrangement they had with either being able to do as they pleased because she had seen so many of her friends lapse into a bored and almost unbearable existence without any variety in their lives at all. It wasn't pleasant watching people you had known as young, gay individuals suddenly wilting away into sad mechanical-like suburban night dwellers whose every action fitted into a slot or pattern that varied not one iota from one year to the next. She was grateful to Harry for salvaging her from this fate and really, in the beginning anyway, almost forcing her to accept the fact that life could be lived in a different manner than that accepted without question by the majority of society. She had to admit, it had taken some doing on his part to get her to participate that first time in the swapping thing that was so popular now but after the first time she hadn't complained about going to the meetings again. In fact, she rather looked forward to these little twice-monthly affairs now and planned her whole schedule around them. She absolutely made certain she had an easy day before the meetings so that she wouldn't be too tired to give her best. She even made Harry come home early from the office to rest up and take a nap so he, too, would be prepared for the long exacting evening.

"Oooohhh," she moaned suddenly as her mind returned to reality. Harry's hand had reached her buttocks again and he had run the tips of his fingers feather-like down the full length of the soft-white crevice sending chills of sensation rippling across her skin. "Are you crazy, man? You want to be eaten alive?"

"Eaten, yes baby, but not alive," he joked, twitching his fingers again into the slightly squirming crevice. "But don't get impatient, we'll come to that."

"Well, you just stop it and get me another drink. We've got some planning to do. You've gotten me all excited over our new victims and I want to hear your bright little plan to bridge this social gap you think exists."

"Just don't you worry, my little pet, I've got it all figured. Been thinking about it since that punk gave me the old brush-off yesterday. I think we might even be able to work it so they'll be our little donation to the club. You know we're due to cough up another couple next month and we haven't even started on it yet."

"That's right," Marsha frowned. "It is our turn. Has it been three months since we brought in Sue and Charley?"

"It sure has and you know the rules, bring in a couple every three months or you're out for good. We haven't been working on it. Here, give me your glass and let me fill it while I lay out the plan for you."

"Harry Burns," Marsha chided, "I think you're out of your mind. Even if you do con her into bed with you, which I doubt, unless you rape her, I don't think you'd ever get a couple like that to go along with a group swap. They're just too young and naive. Why, I bet they haven't even been married a year."

"Right you are, baby," Harry said as he rose to mix more drinks. "But that's the kind that when they fall, they fall hard. It'll be fun trying anyway even if we don't succeed and we will. Have you ever seen old Harry fail yet, baby?"

"No, I guess not," Marsha had to admit. He just seemed to have a way with him that brought him anything he wanted. Women were always repulsed by him at first just as she had been in the beginning, but sooner or later, he worked a way to get to them. And God help them once he did, she mused.

"Make mine a double this time, lover, I think I'm going to need it to keep from crying over the fate you've got planned for this poor little girl next door."

"Poor little girl, my tail." Harry responded sarcastically from behind the bar. "Have you seen that set of boobs she carries around in front of her? Man I can't wait to get my teeth into those."

"Well, don't get overly excited and bite them off." Marsha retorted, a bored tone in her voice. "That's known as the crime of mayhem."

"Mayhem, scayhem," laughed Harry. "It just might be worth ninety days in the hoosegow to get a nibble at those. I'd be willing to risk it anyway."

"Oh, shut up and bring my drink. I hate to see you get worked up this way over some other little slut and then take it out on me all afternoon. Come on and tell me this plan of yours so I can get worked up, too. You know, I just might enjoy teaching that poor innocent young boy a thing or two. I feel most motherly every time I see him."

"You're not that old, chicken," he laughed, walking to the window again with the full glasses in his hands. "Man-o-man, look at that tight little ass almost hanging out of those shorts. There oughta be a law against that."

"Harry! Get away from that window," Marsha scolded again. "You've got all you can handle at home right now. As soon as you deliver him to me then you can have all of that you can get, but not until then. I'm a very jealous wife, remember."

"OK, OK, if you want to be a kill-joy and take away the few pleasures a man my age has left in this life, then be a bitch. I'll just have to settle for you this afternoon."

"Harry," Marsha smiled at him demurely. "Let's take these drinks to the bedroom, shall we?"

"Why, you little whore!" Harry smiled, following behind her down the hallway. "You're about the most selfish thing alive. You always come first. You drug me away from that window for your own selfish designs, I might have known."

"I don't see you lagging far behind, my love." Marsha cooed, turning just inside the door and peeling her robe from her body seductively and dropping it to her feet. "Of course, if you'd rather not…"

"Let's not be too hasty now," Harry replied quickly, his face flushing slightly as his eyes locked on his wife's full well-tanned body. "I think we can work something out between us without too much fuss and bother."

Marsha smiled at him coyly and did a small pirouette in the center of the room before she walked softly to the huge double king sized bed and lay down full in the center of it, spreading her limbs in a wide crucifixion position. She smiled lazily up at him without a word, just a seductive smile playing across her lips. Harry's breath sucked in slightly from the sudden excitement of the pose she had taken.

Damn, he thought, There's just no one else like her. His eyes, for the millionth time in their eight years of marriage, played over full well-rounded curves and sent tiny ripples of desire running swiftly over the sensitive nerve-ends of his skin. His eyes roamed over the naked contours stretched out in anticipation before him. They stopped for a moment on the high-set round breasts that were set closely together, leaving room for the narrowest of valleys running between their magnificent firmness. He never failed to marvel at how they kept their shape at all times, in spite of their size. This possibly was the reason for her lead position in the chorus line at Vegas where he had first seen her and decided that he had to have her. Well, he had, and it had lasted a long time. He had shed his second wife with a quickie Nevada divorce and they were married a few months later. Nothing had changed since then and he still marveled at her each and every time he saw her in the nude. She was holding up pretty well for a thirty-one-year-old and if he weren't such a lecherous bastard, he mused silently to himself, he would never have had to step out of the house. She was enough for any one man. His eyes flicked lower to the enticingly rounded, ivory-sheened lips that led to the delicious sweep of long, gradually rounded thighs. Between her slightly spread legs he could see clearly through the soft pubic hair covering her loins the fleshy pinkness of her vaginal slit glistening wetly in the dim light seeping through the curtains.

"Well, lover, are you going to stand there all day? Hand me my drink and get naked, Marsha teased at him, fully aware of the effect the licentious position of her body was having on him. She squirmed her buttocks down into the mattress, enjoying the power she was exerting over him by the lewd exhibition of her body and watching with secret satisfaction the changing expressions flickering across his lips.

"You little prick-tease," Harry half growled, "You've gotten yourself a pile of trouble now and you just might not get out of it until tomorrow morning, if then."

He handed her the double gin and set his own on the table by the bed, pulling at the same time at his clothes. It took only a moment for them to fall quickly to the floor where he left them lying in a disorganized heap. He stood for a moment at the edge of the bed looking down at her naked form, spread waiting on the bed. His long, thick penis stood out rigid beneath the slight paunch he was developing. Marsha had risen to one elbow to take a long sip from the tall drink and was looking directly at his hardness.

"Mmmmm," she said softly for effect, as she brought the glass down from her lips. "That didn't take long."

"No Ma'am. Old Daddy is ready, right now. Open 'em wide, honey, I'm coming in fast." He grinned down at her taking the glass from her hand.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Marsha mockingly screamed as she rolled out of the way of his leap onto the bed. "You were going to fire me up a little bit by telling me what you were going to do to that little blonde thing next door!"

"Oh, baby, come on," Harry good-naturedly pleaded. He knew it was a game and they played it often. He was ready now but knew she liked to be coaxed a little before the action began.

"Nope, no story, no nookie." She said, squirming seductively just out of arm's reach across the bed.

"OK, OK, if that's the way you want it. I'll tell you how you're going to get your share too. Is that a deal?"

"Is it a deal!" She smiled, moving over close to him and stretching the full length of her body tightly against him. "That's the best part of the deal."

"Well, it just might take you awhile to recover from what you're going to get in a second so I'll wait a few days to put it into effect."

"Don't you worry about me," His wife nuzzled against his ear. "You can bring him on this afternoon after I've taken you on if you like. You never could stay long enough to make me beg for mercy."

"We'll see about that later." he grinned over at her, taking her hand and pushing it down around the thickness of his upstanding penis. She began to stroke and then to massage it, rubbing the skin back and forth and then slipping her hand to his balls, cradling their softness in her palm. Harry groaned and gritted his teeth at her gentle ministrations of his testicles and penis.

"Do you want to hear that story or not?" he sputtered as she gave a gentle squeeze that sent shivers down his spine.

"Mmmmm," she answered softly, "just amusing myself in the meantime."

"Well," Harry ground his teeth again and began. "I figure the way to get her is through him. If we can get him in a position where he has to go along with it then we've got it made."

"And just how do you propose to do that?" his wife asked softly, continuing the gentle stroking of the loose foreskin up and down the full length of his rod.

"That's going to be your job. I did manage to get out of him that his wife is going to her mother's for a few days starting tomorrow and I thought we might get him out for dinner and a few drinks and let you go to work on him. I can work out an excuse to get lost so he won't suspect anything and you can take it from there. Show him the "Playpen" downstairs, that always works."

"Mmmm, I like. Gives me a chance to show my talents-and satisfy my maternal instincts all at the same time," she crooned gently. "Darling, for this you get a reward while you tell me how you think you can get him out with us if he's got the superiority bit about him."

His wife moved down the bed, trailing the soft moistness of her lips down across the soft flabbiness of his stomach. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his cock that reached yearningly up toward the ceiling. Suddenly, she was hovering on all fours with her face poised just above it until he could feel the hot air from her breath blowing close against it.

"Go on with the story, Darling," she cooed softly, "I'm waiting."

"And," Harry swallowed deeply as his wife haunched on all fours over his loins, stroked his hardness first with one hand and then between both of them at the same time, "You'll get him in the sack with you ooooh."

He groaned and thrust his loins forward involuntarily as the warm moistness of her open lips closed over the throbbing, sensitive head of his cock.

"And, ooh, he'll be throwing it to you, oooh," he moaned again, reaching down and tangling his hands tightly in her hair to guide the rhythm of her bobbing head below. He lifted his head slightly from the pillow to watch her contorted face. It made the sensation that much more exciting when he could see the thickness of his rod buried between her sucking lips.

"Go-wa on-a," she mumbled around his plunging instrument, struggling to get the words out and at the same time increase the twirling of her tongue around the moist stickiness of the blood-inflated head.

"Fuck it, you can wait to hear the goddamn story," Harry growled as she began to suck a little harder. "You just suck it baby, and Daddy'll tell you all about it later."

He looked at the mirror on the wall facing the bed so he could get a good profile look at his wife's face as his hardening shaft began to saw rhythmically in and out of her ovaled mouth. The very sight of it caused his loins to tense and jerk into her face until in the mirror it looked as though he were sinking the full length of it all the way down her throat. Almost all of it seemed to disappear with each hard thrust he made until only a little stretch of it showed white and glistening protruding from between her lips.

Her tongue, with a nerve-tingling lick on the outstroke was making the head throb and jerk as though his heart itself were beating inside. He watched, hypnotized in the mirror, watching the flesh of her lips being pulled out grotesquely, clinging to the flesh of his prick as she sucked hungrily, her mind caught up in the task with all her concentration. Her breasts jerked and danced below her pumping torso, adding to the lust-inciting picture presented to him in the glass.

"Suck it, baby, suck it," he hissed, dropping his head back heavily on the pillow and pretending for the moment it were the blonde in the tight shorts next door. Goddamn, he'd like to have her like this, ramming it deep in her throat. By God, he'd shove it all the way down to her tonsils when he did get her. He'd pump his hot sperm all the way down- her throat and into that white little belly of hers until she burst.

"Come on, baby, come on," he grunted as his wife slaved below, her body beginning to glisten from the tiny droplets of sweat forming over her skin. He felt like pissing as he felt the pressure growing in his balls. He knew it wouldn't be long now. His cock felt like it was filled with lead and ready to explode like the popping of a giant balloon that when it went would spew its insides for miles in all directions. He shoved his loins hard up against her face, hearing her protesting mumble that went unheeded in his quest for the final end of this torture that was building – building – building until all at once he felt the white hot stream begin deep in his balls and race steam-like the length of his plunging cock. He gasped and his lips bared back over his teeth as though being tortured by fire.

His cock began a sudden wild staccato jerking that flooded without warning his wife's wildly sucking mouth with gust after gust of the white-hot sperm, bloating her cheeks outward with each bullet-like spurt until she swallowed to keep from choking, mewling and crooning at his thrusting loins.

"Don't stop, baby, keep sucking, keep sucking!" he gasped as his hands tangled tighter in her hair, convulsively ramming his cork farther and farther down her throat. She went on sucking wildly as he continued shooting his load deep, deep into her mouth.

With one last earth-shattering groan, he emptied the last of his sperm into her lips but she went on nibbling gently, sucking every last drop from the spurting gland.

Gradually, the satiated penis deflated in her mouth. Harry threw his arms out to the side in exhaustion, a great sigh of relief escaping from his lips. She lay for awhile with her head on his thigh, still nibbling gently at the limp, useless penis in front of her and then she crawled up over his belly and kissed him hard on the lips.

"What happened to my story, lover?" she teased softly, smiling down at him with a slight sparkle of triumph in her eyes.

"Why you little bitch! You had that planned all along, didn't you?" Harry half growled, half groaned. "Imagine picking on a guy ten years older than you."

"You'll have your chance to get even, dear, I'll see to that in a few minutes. Now tell me the happy ending about how you'll talk Mr. Big next door into coming out for dinner."

"Simple, love, I'll do a little shifting of my funds. We have so much money invested in stocks his boss old man Jordan'll do anything I say to get it. He can't very well turn down a dinner invitation with a client, can he?"

"My you are clever," his wife teased as she reached her hand down and felt him hardening again. "And, an insatiable old bastard too," she grinned, feeling the moisture rising between her thighs. She knew it was going to be a long, delicious night and she smiled silently to herself in anticipation.