Swingers by Circumstance
This story is based on real events. Due to a number of circumstances, I was forced to make certain adjustments (changing the location and some minor details), so this work was not included in the series of stories "Real Stories," where the narrative is free of artistic fiction. The names of the characters have been changed. The events that took place are described in detail in the story without cuts, but with this cast of characters, they were only a one-time occurrence.
It happened in the hot summer of 1990, when we decided to go to the countryside for the weekend. We, that is me, Alex, and my wife, Katerina: we are forty years old between us, plus or minus four years.
Our friends of the same age, Yulia and Vlad, owned a small house on the shore of a lake, where we headed on a sunny July morning, to fool around and relax. Why Vlad called this poorly assembled box of modest dimensions by the grand name "fazenda" I don't know, but, as they say, beggars can't be choosers. We reached our refuge, threw down our things, and ran to swim.Our women were magnificent! As if competing with each other in the size of their charms, the girls, in their choice of swimsuits, achieved the ultimate minimalism: the "top" barely covered their nipples, and the "bottom," consisting of strings and small scraps, could only be called panties with a great stretch. Jumping "soldier-style" from the dock into the water, our wives completely lost the "tops" of their swimsuits and all shame: they then walked topless all day, and Vlad and I almost twisted our necks, carefully watching the protruding nipples of the bouncing, juicy breasts of our ladies with every step.
Vlad was a doctor—with a pumped-up body and a cynical mind—and immediately diagnosed our women: "I'd-fuck-them." You don't need to be a professional to come to such an obvious conclusion: I wouldn't have refused either, and from both. But, someone else's wife, especially a friend's—that's a taboo that must not be broken. That's how it seemed to us until this evening...
After swimming until we were dizzy, we returned to the fazenda, and I looked doubtfully at the only room of our refuge: Uncle Pumpkin's house from the fairy tale about Cipollino was much more spacious. We pushed two twin beds together, otherwise there simply wouldn't have been enough room at the table for all of us. We had to lay them across: that way the sheets at least covered the old mattresses. The stains on them resembled contour maps for the fifth grade, and one could only guess what the owners had done on these mattresses in the past. It was good that the bed linen turned out to be new and clean.
Our wives decided that modesty was inappropriate in this situation, and, refusing the champagne prepared for them, joined our choice of drinks. The four of us downed more than a liter of vodka, and I suddenly clearly realized that the time had come for a friendly Swedish family.
Our wives categorically refused to create the basic unit of society in the Scandinavian style, and Vlad, going out into the yard, reported with dismay that he could not set foot on the slippery path of sin and vice: he had never had sex in front of others, and had never cheated on his Yulka. I suggested he not worry about it and just lie down in bed and relax. He had no idea that I had a couple of aces up my sleeve that I hoped to present to the intoxicated company at the right time.
Vlad and I returned to our dollhouse and undressed as if nothing was wrong. Looking at us, Yulia and Katerina, giggling embarrassedly, began to pull off their clothes, trying not to make eye contact with each other. Left in their panties and tank tops, they ducked under the blanket and started some pointless "social" conversation with slurred tongues.
I inserted the "ace" cassette with the innocent label "Travelers' Club" into the VCR, and we assumed a horizontal position next to our better halves. No one suspected that we were now going to watch a German humorous series with the general title "Das ist Fantastish!"
I lay down with my wife by the wall, and Yulia, strictly observing the demarcation line, lay down in the middle. On the left edge of the bed lay Vlad, with one foot on the floor: either because he didn't have enough room on this improvised marital bed, or to have a point of support in this delicate moment.
Credits flashed on the screen, and I, not putting my body off for long, tried to reach my wife's breast under the blanket, which she had carefully covered herself with up to her chin, huddling in a fit of modesty and chastity. She clearly did not want to engage in public adultery, and I secretly hoped that the educational video, the action of which on the TV screen unfolded in the most obscene way, would help win my spouse over to visual propaganda: next to us lay tense Yulia and frightened Vlad.
I reached the remote control for the breasts and began to twist the knobs in different directions. But the path to the queen's secret passage remained closed: the obstacle was her panties, tightly hugging her firm ass, and her closed legs, like the bodies of Siamese twins, left no hope for their separation. The German mechanic was already working full swing with a "21" wrench, and I still couldn't get to my wife's holes to clean them out thoroughly. Katerina watched the perversions on the screen with such interest, as if she were watching porn for the first time in her life.
The specialist from Bavaria was already finishing diagnosing the mistress and her car when Katerina finally paid attention to my desperate attempts to penetrate the holy of holies. With great pleasure, I took out my tool (not inferior to the best German models) and began persistently poking into the softened Frau Katerina. I was lying on my side and trying to slip it between her body and her panties, pushing them aside. Finally, I succeeded, and I delightfully shoved my freed Django into her all the way. Katerina began mumbling approving words in my ear, when suddenly I saw that Yulia was watching closely my efforts to explore the mysterious depths of the unpredictable female soul through the hard-to-reach body in panties.
"Why aren't you watching the TV show about the uh... garage?" I whispered fearfully, freezing for a moment inside Katerina.
"It's more interesting here," Yulia replied, and cozied up next to us: all she lacked for complete enjoyment was a bucket of popcorn and a diet cola.
"Your husband is right next to you, suffering without anything to do!" my Katerina hissed, addressing her friend.
Yulia calmly continued to stare at us, propping her head up with her fist, and watched carefully the movement of our blanket. I felt my wife's reciprocal movements and began to pull off the last barrier from her with my hands. My every move was monitored by the uninvited contemplator, and I felt like a lab rabbit clumsily taking a proficiency exam. The panties were wet from secretions and stuck to her body, rolled into a tube and got stuck on Katka's impatient legs. From the side, it looked like I was trying to pull the limbs off my own wife, not rid her of a piece of women's underwear.
"You're not much of a vivisectionist," a disturbing thought flashed, and I finally pulled off Katka's hated panties, which stood in the way of my knowledge and enlightenment. My wife sighed with relief and began actively helping me achieve close contact with her internal organs. Moving successfully in the right direction, I looked at Yulia: our eyes met, and I began to feel like I was fucking her. I looked at her during this race for survival, sliding my bald freedom fighter along the wet forest belt: shaved pussies in those "hairy years" were not yet in fashion.
Finally, I fired a victorious salvo, which was reflected in the eyes of my grateful wife as a festive fireworks display. Leaning back on the pillow, I suddenly remembered Vlad: he had fallen out of my field of vision while I was waging an irreconcilable struggle with my lawful wife's panties for the right to visit the wet cave, since I had a privileged ticket. Wrapping myself in a sheet like a mantle, I left Katerina alone with the sperm, and with the stride of the great Nero, dragged the doctor out into the wild, into the pampas. Yulia impatiently followed us with her eyes: she wanted to quickly subject the sexual experiment, of which she had been a witness, to a detailed analysis with Katerina.
"Well, how are your successes?" I asked quite contentedly, standing in the middle of the forest, stretching and scratching.
"I tried," Vlad answered honestly, looking away, "but it didn't work out... She's probably shy about fucking in front of everyone."
"What if you suddenly lie down in the '69' position? A master class on 'cunni,' and she won't care if someone is nearby or not," I had no doubt about the truth of the proposed method.
"That might work," Vlad agreed uncertainly.
"Or run into the house now screaming: 'a snake bit me!' and demand that the poison be sucked out urgently," I was inspired by his support.
"Won't work," Vlad said doubtfully.
"Won't work," I agreed, "maybe you have some chloroform with you?" I clarified, not very hopeful for a positive answer.
My friend looked at me in such a way that I decided not to develop this controversial thought: he was a good fellow and a bright soul.
"I need to be alone with her, then everything will work out," he said, "just give us half an hour!"
"Easy!" I agreed, and we returned to the abode of sin and vice.
I wrapped the surprised Katerina in a sheet, slung her over my shoulder, and carried her out to the lawn in front of the house. The bright moon shone in the sky, illuminating the path to nowhere, and I ran screaming into the forest to warm up, risking spraining my ankles on the twigs and roots sticking out from under the ground. Katerina stopped dawdling near the fence and followed me, swatting away mosquitoes with a branch. I ran among the gloomy trees and looked like a ghost in a billowing white sheet: Caesar and Drusilla themselves would have envied me, watching my bare-assed gallops under the moon.
So that Katerina wouldn't get bored, I hoisted her onto some branch and did to her what Vlad hadn't guessed. A half-asleep squirrel sitting on a branch in the night almost fell from the tree, watching my virtuoso command of my tongue: in that half-forgotten time, osteochondrosis had not yet made itself known, and I delightfully performed the lunar dance of love with my lips.
Satisfied Katka, in a semi-conscious state, decided to gratefully trumpet to the whole Sherwood Forest about her beloved Robin Hood, and pulled the hunting horn from under my sheet. My wife diligently played a pleasant melody on the leather pipe, and I helped her as best I could. Mosquitoes besieged my rear with enviable persistence, and I, in a fit of masochism, slapped myself on the ass, with each new victim in the insect squad driving my musical instrument into my wife to the full depth of her oratory.
Her solo on the horn ended with her drinking her fill to the very throat and swallowing everything: no point in wasting good stuff on the ground. Playfully slapping her face with my cock backhand, I hurried back to my native hearth: the mosquitoes were already feasting on our bodies full swing. Covered in numerous sores and bites, wrapped in white sheets, we suspiciously resembled two lepers who had secretly escaped from a leper colony under the cover of night.
Katerina and I cautiously peeked through the crack in the front door: the love games of the young couple were in full swing. Yulia stood in front of the bed completely naked, tightly embracing her husband.
"Kiss me," Yulia said and reached for him with her lips.
Vlad kissed his wife somewhat timidly and hugged her around the waist. Yulia groped with her hands over his underwear, trying to find confirmation of her attractiveness. It was somehow awkward to watch other people's amusements, and I embarrassedly looked away. Katerina, however, watched closely what was happening, and I noticed that her hand had disappeared between her legs.
When I looked through the door again, Yulia was already sitting on the bed and sucking Vlad. He clearly wasn't ready for this spermogram analysis: his eyes wandered fearfully around the room, as if he expected a trick from an unexpected direction. Whether Yulia was trying to snatch the laurels from Linda Lovelace—the heroine of the film "Deep Throat"—or whether Vlad had "small but precious," the doctor's dignity just wouldn't show itself. No matter how hard my Katerina tried to get a look at someone else's cock (pretending to examine the wallpaper pattern on the walls), she couldn't manage it: the medical instrument did not leave the patient's oral cavity.
Despite some awkwardness of what was happening, this sight began to arouse me. Erotic stories. Yulia, sucking off her husband right before my eyes, turned me on incredibly. I glanced at my wife: she was clearly masturbating under the sheet, watching her friend.
"Hey!" I said, addressing the couple of lovers, "we'd like to come back in now! The bloodsuckers from the night forest have already gnawed off part of our organism, and we'd prefer to preserve what's left."
"Of course, of course, come into the house!" Yulia exclaimed, turning to us, and not letting go of Vlad's cock from her hands, "we're already warmed up!" she giggled.
Katka and I ducked under the blanket and froze, trying not to attract attention to ourselves. And Yulia seemed to have been replaced: she languidly stretched and lay down across the bed. Then slowly spread her legs, and I clearly saw the wet slit of someone else's wife. Vlad cast aside his last doubts and his clothes onto the worn floor, approached Yulia, and inserted his catheter intramuscularly. They thrashed about at our feet, no longer embarrassed by the presence of outsiders.
My Katerina emerged from under the sheet and got on all fours in front of Vlad, sucking in my club as far as her capabilities and strength allowed. A few centimeters from my privates, Yulia's head moved rhythmically, watching closely my wife's blowjob. Katka's ass was turned towards Vlad, who was moving lustily inside his spouse, throwing eloquent glances at the intimate folds of my lawful wife.
Yulia moaned with each strong thrust and kept licking her lips: in my opinion, she was already mentally helping my wife rid me of another portion of fresh protein. Katerina released the cock from her mouth for a moment and caught her breath. A transparent drop immediately formed on the head and slowly flowed down. Yulia followed it with her eyes and licked her lips again. I knew what influence 21 centimeters above sea level had on girls, and confidently wiggled the head in front of Yulia's nose, tensing my abdominal and surrounding muscles.
Yulia, as if mesmerized, shook her head in response, not taking her eyes off it for a second. Then she began slowly approaching with her lips to Big Brother and stopped a centimeter away from it. I felt her breath on the head, and blood rushed to my cock with renewed force. My Katka looked triumphantly at her friend, squeezing the mighty axis of the universe in her hands. Yulia licked her lips but didn't dare: it was still unknown how my wife would react to this.
Katerina quickly looked at me: insatiable lust was rising in her eyes. I nodded briefly, and my spouse shoved my cock under Yulia's nose. Vlad's wife hastily sucked in the head and quickly began working her tongue, as if someone was about to come and take this sweet toy away from her. Katerina proudly admired what was happening and joined Yulia, who was sucking greedily on my dick. They licked and sucked the cock from the pulsating head to the tense balls, snatching it from each other's hands and kissing passionately.
Vlad stared dumbfoundedly now at his wife, who was sucking me off with abandon, now at the ass of my Katka, which she was wiggling in close proximity to him, as if hinting at something. I indicated her to Vlad with a glance and closed my eyes in pleasure: the girls, pressing against the shaft in a kiss from both sides, gently jerked it with their lips along its entire length.
Suddenly I felt that Katerina began rhythmically sucking my cock, and I looked at Vlad: he was already fucking my wife, pulling her rear onto his hips. I immediately crawled out from under Katerina and made an inviting gesture to Yulia:
"Have a seat, madam