Country Swing
Somewhere out a ways; I forget
Becca, the gregarious one, had always been more curious than I. But Sher and Gary knew enough to take it slow with me. Nevertheless, the four new people in the strange new house distracted me. Not quite obscured, down the hall, Becca was getting fucked by two guys we'd only met a few hours earlier. The one named Joe, the ponytailed one in his thirties, was loudly extolling the delights of Becca's avidity. Bran, the tall one, was just laughing a Texas redneck laugh. Who were these guys?
Sher and Gary had dressed and left together to get more stuff for next day's breakfast. They had left me in this strange country house, half-drunk, sitting flaccid on the livingroom couch between Judy and the birthday girl. Mary had turned thirty today. Sher had explained that Mary'd been depressed for weeks about her upcoming birthday. The surprise party at Judy and Joe's was meant to get her mind off the date, make her know that it was okay. Me, I was having a hard time getting my mind off of Judy and Joe. Who were these people?
The party started off like any typical suburban soiree, though everyone present was aware that it wouldn't break up until the next morning. Gary and Sher knew the other couples well, so the icebreaking after the Mary-surprise was focussed on us. How long had we known the Sieberts? Were we new to "swinging?" (I cringed at the word.) Did we want to sleep over? Hey, great!
"It's easy," said bluff Joe. "You just have to stay loose, go with the flow."
Sure, Joe. I'd go with the Maker's Mark, this afternoon. And I knew enough to avoid the weed. Becca was smoking enough for the two of us, anyway.
We'd fed on the typical suburban buffet, then the women repaired to the basement and returned giggling in -- Gawd! -- a lot of Judy's lingerie. Bran was really turned on by this. Up to that point, I'd thought the big, sandy-haired hick was sort of okay. Joe turned the stereo up a notch.
Rock'n'roll had really gone to hell by the early seventies.
The "dancing" started. The men's clothes had come off, the women's nondescript lingerie had stayed on, and Becca had me perform with her, more or less standing up in the living room. Bran and Joe shouted encouragement, along with proud Sherrie. I guessed they were all alright. For a couple of minutes, I got into the scene.
Then, so did everyone else. Like I said before, it was distracting.
I came, then went straight to the couch. Becca. She really amazed me. Then Sher and Gary left. Why were they abandoning me?
Things broke up when Becca scrambled down the hall with Joe and Bran. The record-changer had run through its rancid disks, and nobody bothered to pile them up again. Mary and Judy had finally noticed me, and I was feeling bad enough to let them take me up on the couch. I liked them better than their husbands.
Mary seemed especially nice. She was a typical midsized Southern Illinois blonde, skin barely tanned, tangled hair a natural "peroxide" silverwhite. Her face reminded me of Sondra Locke, or any of several bony reporters on the St Louis television news shows. There was a lively dumbness in her pale blue eyes, as if she was actively choosing to remain a "girl." During the women's dance routines, she'd mimed moves from her career as a high school "far [fire] twirler." She'd picked up the Texas accent after moving south with Bran for a couple of years. She hadn't lost it since they'd come back to run her Dad's John Deere dealership.
Mary opened her arms to me after I made room for her in the corner of the couch. I curled up to her like a baby. We were both dry, sweet-smelling, despite the lingering stickiness around our genitals. Judy's cheap nightie was too short on Mary's body, though it was far from tight.
Judy returned from the bathroom and smiled at us. Four-seven? Four-eight? But proportioned nicely, with sturdy but shapely legs and a trim round butt. The broad, strong face of an Anglo elf, with a touch of the natural mouthbreather. Really sharp hazelgreen eyes, brown hair cut short but full. Flesh like mine, but not quite so freckled.
"Mind if I sit here?" Judy asked.
She settled in right next to us, taking advantage of my infantine curl to pull thigh onto thigh with Mary. It was obvious that Mary and Judy were "close," in that not quite outed manner that Becca herself had displayed with other girls. I was beginning to understand that it was the same sort of unqueer sympathy we males share when sharing women. But women seemed less afraid of getting nearer one another, able to encourage with kisses as well as words.
Judy's round white thigh was pushing me closer into Mary's lean belly. She shuffled off her "teddy," or whatever it was called. Judy looked better, naked. Her breasts were fine, robust, though not outsized. Her strong shoulders and back were not made to wear lingerie. Judy curled a well-formed arm around both Mary and me, and cuddled still closer against both of us. It was comfortable, not overtly sexy at all. Still, I was trying to lose myself in Mary's hair, nuzzling into her neck and jawbone. Mary's skin was a little older, dryer than I'd nuzzled before. But it was oddly babylike, too, powdery white.
"Your girlfriend is beautiful," proffered Mary.
"Mumph," I agreed.
"How much have you guys swung?"
"Three or four times. Other couples, I mean. Sort of long-term engagements, mostly. Affairs. We call it coupling."
Judy cuddled still closer, laying a head on my shoulder laying against Mary. Judy's other hand came around my front to play fingers lightly along Mary's waist.
Mary twisted her head around to give me a peck. I suppose I was beginning to tickle.
