Zak didn't come from a broken home so much as from a slowly disintegrating one. He always knew his Dad was a heavy drinker, but it wasn't until the boy was old enough to understand the term that he realised his Dad was what was called a functioning alcoholic. This meant that he could stay sober enough during the day to earn a very good living, but after he finished work he hit the booze with a vengeance.
Zak could never fathom why his parents had ever married, because they were as alike as chalk and cheese. Like many drunks, Walter Turner was withdrawn and morose, but fortunately for his wife Edna, too timid for violence. On the other hand she was friendly and sociable, but with little social life, thanks to her husband's heavy drinking.
To compensate, Edna immersed herself in various but frequently changing charitable and community ventures, often attending meetings lasting until late evenings, so from his early teens her son was well accustomed to fending for himself at mealtimes.
When Zak was sixteen his father finally succeeded in destroying his liver and himself. Fortunately his life insurance took care of the house mortgage, but there were still living expenses, so Edna was forced to forgo most of her charitable activities and find paid employment. She was careful to point out to her son, though, that she felt she still had a role to play in the community, so it was possible that she would be out late perhaps two or three evenings a week.
A few weeks after the death of his father, Zak dropped out of school and found work as a junior counter salesman for a plumbing supplier, and by age twenty-one his natural ability and charm saw him appointed the youngest assistant branch manager in the company. He didn't let it go to his head, because in reality it was no more than a title, and his work duties didn't change appreciably. Besides, he knew it would take at least ten years to work his way up to branch manager – if it ever happened.
Not long after his promotion, he stopped at his usual coffee shop for his morning eye opener, and his eyes really did open when he saw a new girl working the espresso machine. She was a petite brunette with brown eyes and a dazzling smile, but what really drew his attention was the most superb set of jugs he had ever seen outside a porn magazine. They weren't huge, and they were well covered by a blouse fastened at the neck, but the way they pushed against the fabric made his mouth go dry. In his work his persuasiveness was his greatest asset, but this had always deserted him where girls were concerned. He found it relatively easy to communicate with women over thirty, although he would never dare to try anything, but girls nearer his own age terrified him. It took him several awkward days to find the nerve to introduce himself to the new girl in the coffee shop, and learn her name was Chastity Reynolds, and she was three years his senior. It took him a further two weeks to persuade her to catch a movie with him.
Two nights later she groped for his hand in the darkness of the theatre, and held it loosely in her lap as she leaned towards him inviting a kiss. He was acutely aware of the position of his hand, and he cursed himself for lacking the guts to take up what he was sure was a thinly veiled invitation. Then the movie finished and he took her home, thanking her for the evening and bidding her goodnight with a modestly chaste kiss.
Each time they dated she seemed to be sending out signals, but it wasn't until towards the end of their fifth date that he worked up the courage to act. They were saying goodnight outside her door, and as they kissed he casually brushed a hand across her breast and when she didn't protest he became a little bolder. This time she pressed forward against his palm, and taking encouragement he tried to unfasten her blouse.
She backed away abruptly. "Not here, someone might come along." Fumbling for her keys, she unlocked the door and led him into her small apartment. The instant they were inside her whole demeanour changed, and she pressed up tightly against him with an appreciative murmur as she felt his cock stiffen. From then on she took the lead, and with actions that belied her name, she began to undress. He put out a hand to help, but she stepped back a pace with a shake of her dark curls. "No, you made me wait so now I'll make you wait."
He watched entranced as she unclipped her bra, expecting her breasts to sag a little without the support, but they remained firm with the hard brown nipples seemingly aimed directly at him. The rest of her clothes followed quickly, then she reached for his belt, smiling with pleasure as she freed his cock. When she had undressed him, she grasped his tool and led him quickly to her bedroom. He had no more than a few seconds to stare with awe at her shaven slit as she stretched out on the bed, then she was pulling him over her, pushing a hard pointed nipple against his lips as she guided his cock into her eager pussy.
Her mood was mercurial as they fucked, one moment gentle sensitive lovemaking, and the next an almost frenzied striving to please him as much as he was pleasing her. In the more frantic moments her inner muscles clenched around his shaft, as though she was trying to suck his very soul out through his cock. Then just as suddenly she relaxed, allowing him to recover before clamping tight again. Time seemed to stand still, and everything blurred, leaving them conscious of only his thrusting cock and her clutching pussy, until he finally erupted, pumping jet after jet of thick hot cum into the depths of her cunt.
Over the next several months she never failed to amaze him with her inventiveness and patience as she gradually coaxed him out of his shell, but one day she gave him a surprise that was to turn his whole life upside down. It was a Monday night, and they were lying in bed recovering after another energetic frolic, when Chastity asked him casually if he would be interested in going to a swingers club on the coming Friday evening. He didn't exactly relish the idea of his girlfriend being fucked by other men, but it was something he had always wanted to try, so after thinking about it he agreed.
Chastity drove them to the club, which turned out to be a huge old house on the southern fringe of town. From the outside it looked like a run down old dump, but inside, whilst not luxurious, it was neat and well kept, and as he was to discover, some of the larger bedrooms were partitioned off to form smaller rooms, each with a bed. The main room off the entrance hall was dimly lit and crowded, and the kitchen had been converted into a bar-cloakroom. It seemed to Zak that Chastity had been here before, because she made a beeline for the bar and returned with a couple of soft drinks, and minus her coat. He gawked as she approached, because she was wearing a short skirt slit up the front almost to the waist, and a see through blouse that did nothing to hide her braless boobs.
The strains of an old song – 'Welcome to my world' - came softly from speakers mounted high on the walls, and he found himself singing along under his breath. He couldn't name the singer, but given the nature of the club the words seemed to fit the occasion. As his eyes adjusted he realised that Chastity was one of the more modestly dressed, because many of those present were already naked or close to it. He was surprised to see that all shapes sizes and ages were represented, and some of them were openly groping each other. One thing that struck him was that the majority of the women had one thing in common, their pubic areas were either shaven or trimmed to a 'landing strip' above uniformly smooth vaginas.
They stood sipping their drinks for not more than five minutes, before they were approached by a rather attractive couple in their forties. The man was tall and well built, and wearing only a polo shirt and shorts. By contrast his companion was almost as petite as Charity, with her blonde hair in a bun, and a knee length dress that showed plenty of cleavage, and a generous amount of extremely shapely leg.
