Best Laid Plans Pt. 02

Both wives attacked their own husbands and with a tease here, a suck there, and a kiss here and there, it got the wanted results and the women were completely sated. "What time is it?" asked Jan.

"Sleep time, but let me check the clock." When Sandy returned, she said, "It's a little past two. Time to unwrap?"

"Yeah, and we'll tell them they can fuck us now without the restraints or blindfolds."

"No way. My little love puddle is too sore."

"Don't worry. They've had it. Just wait."

With the scarves and ropes removed, the guys rubbed their wrists and ankles to ease the discomfort caused from chaffing. "I hope we've done our penance," said Stan. "It was, uh, interesting, but I like it the regular way better."

"Speak for yourself," said Bob, "I loved it."

"You would," said Sandy. They all laughed.

"It's only a little after two o'clock," said Jan. "We'll let you do us now so you can see and hear everything." Bob and Stan looked at each other, then down at their limp dicks and both shook their heads.

"No way, girls," said Stan.

"Oh? Last Sunday, actually last Monday morning, you confessed to fucking Sandy three times. Do we have to be drugged for you to accomplish that?"

"Hee-hee," said Stan, "that wasn't exactly the way it was."

"Then exactly how was it?"

Bob, seeing Stan's discomfort, said, "It wasn't that many. Just a little macho exaggeration."

"How many times?" demanded Sandy.

"Er, well, you see...."

"Once," said Stan sheepishly.

"Looks like our studs have turned into pussycats," said Sandy.

"Maybe it's time to trade 'em in on new models. Get a couple of divorces and pick us out some young trophy dudes to show off."

"But, but...," started Bob.

"Relax, honey," said Sandy, "we were just jerking your chains. You guys have served your sentences. You have a 'get out of jail free' card."

"I knew they were kidding," said Stan.

Jan lifted an eyebrow and said, "Don't be too sure."

"I'm bushed," said Bob. "I'm going to sleep. You and Jan can stay over if you want."

Jan walked over to Bob and rubbed her nipples back and forth across his arm. "You sure about that? We may jump you guy's bones in an hour or so."

"Time to go home," said Stan. "We'll make breakfast for you two in the morning."

"Wait a sec," said Sandy, "I'll grab some things and be right with you." Stan's and Bob's mouths dropped open in unison.

"Gotcha!" said Sandy. They all laughed and said good night.

======================================

Chapter Eight

The following morning Sandy blinked open her eyes shortly after nine-thirty. Beside her, Bob slept on. She noticed his upper eyelids doing tiny shimmy-shakes and wondered if he dreamed about the wild times of the night before. How drastically would their lives change? Were they starting a journey that led to future problems or future fulfillment? As the intimacy with Stan and Jan became stronger, would it bind them closer together or drive a wedge through the heart of their relationship?

Her upbringing, and Jan's too, provided no cubby hole of leniency to house the activities of the past week, but it had added such excitement to their lives. They had crossed the Rubicon, like Julius Caesar, and ventured into uncharted lands. Not to fight and conquer, she hoped, but to only taste forbidden pleasures. Pleasures made that much sweeter because they reeked of sin. Fun sin. Sin that meant no harm nor sought any special gain.

Who said that sex wasn't dirty unless you did it right? They were wrong. Last night everything went perfectly with the guys and she didn't feel one bit dirty. The harmless showing of herself to the fellows at the restaurant made her juices flow. Probably because their reactions reaffirmed she was sexually attractive. Does that confirm a basic insecurity? Screw it. Like Scarlett, she would worry about all those things tomorrow. No, day after tomorrow or maybe next week. Right now she craved a big mug of coffee and her hair must be a mess.

After showering, arranging her hair and adding minimal make-up, she slipped into a sheer nightie, but covered herself with a terry cloth robe. Panties? Nah. She wasn't horny at the moment but who knew what the morning would bring? She was prepared for action but the conservative robe would keep all options available. Maybe the day would be a quiet one. Relaxation following last night's orgy. Yeah, it qualified for orgy status Surely it did. What would be everyone's reaction? It should be interesting.

Jan bounced over a little after 10:30. "My goodness you look radiant this morning," said Sandy.

"You're pretty bushy-tailed, yourself. But why the old maid's costume?"

Sandy opened her robe and Jan said, "Wow! The packaging's not too swift but the contents are dynamite."

"I didn't know what the morning after might bring, so I dressed to cover all the bases."

"You make me feel downright slutty in my red satin hostess gown."

"It's super flattering and subtly sexy like the guys asked for. What's underneath?"

"Just me. The material is thick enough to hide my goodies but with each button I undo the climate changes."

"Want coffee?"

"Yeah, I'm due for my second cup."

"Is Stan up yet?"

"He was singing in the shower when I left."

"Whew, I'm happy to hear that. Morning after second-thoughts bugged me."

"I thought about it too. But not to worry. Stan's so thrilled to be let out of the kennel and back in master status, that he gave me a whack on the fanny while I dressed and told me to get steaks for tonight."

"Bob's still in dreamland. Poor baby. He had himself quite a night. He kept telling me how great life is before we went to sleep. I don't expect any recriminations from his corner. But where do we go from here?"

"More sex. It's a fresh honeymoon."

"Can we really handle it?"

"If we're careful to keep it to ourselves. Never a word to anybody."

"Yeah, I would be so embarrassed if it got out."

"Heavens yes! But look who's come to life."

"Heavens what?" asked Bob, as he stepped into the kitchen with mussed hair, a shadowy beard and wearing a pair of blue pajama bottoms.

"Heaven help us if news of last night's shindig is ever found out."

"Oh, that, I thought I might print up some fliers and deliver them around the neighborhood. The bulletin board at the club should have one too. Make the whole world jealous as hell."

"Don't forget your mom and dad and the pastor might announce it in the church newsletter," said Sandy.

Bob yawned. "Boy that coffee smells great. Of course we'll keep it under wraps. We swingers must swing alone. Keep it strictly in the dark. Sound like a good song title?"

"Don't even joke about it," said Jan.

"Don't worry. No one will ever find out. Where's the cream?"

"In front of your nose."

"Yeah, so it is. You girls look mighty fetching. Especially Jan."

Sandy opened her robe and took it off.

"Damnation, you've made me spill my coffee. Where did you find that? It's hotter than the coffee."

"It's one of a few things we bought," said Sandy.

"Worth every nickel."

"Wait till you see how many nickels," said Jan. She undid the top two buttons of her gown.

"I don't care how many. This is what money's for."

"Hold that thought until after you pay this month's American Express bill."

Stan entered the kitchen door and stopped. He held on to the doorknob with one foot still in the air. "Thank god last night wasn't a dream. If I'm still dreaming, don't dare wake me up. You can leave, Bob. You could be the beginning of a nightmare."

Bob rubbed his whiskers and said, "Shut up until I get this coffee down and put your robe back on, Sandy. My hands are starting to shake."

"Stay as you are, Sandy," said Stan, "you've sent out a wake up call to my libido."

Jan undid another button.

Bob and Stan sat at the table. Jan took Bob's cup and added more coffee. She leaned over to return it. "Lordy, lordy," said Bob, "I never knew we had such a spectacular view in the kitchen. My compliments to the decorator."

"Or the décolletage? Thank you kind sir," said Jan.

Everyone smiled and Sandy said, "You guys have created sexpots. We're offering you a little brain candy to get the day started off right."

"Keep this page bookmarked. I'm off for a shave and shower. Don't start anything without me," said Bob as he padded out the door.

Stan said, "Maybe Bob's right. The way you're dressed or the lack of it is pretty disconcerting. Especially before breakfast."

"Is little Stannie-pooh getting an erection with his coffee?" asked Jan, while looking at Sandy with that gleam in her eyes.

Sandy said, "Jan, you are so-o-o bad. But the sun is shining, the birds are singing and Stan's got a boner started. Lookie, lookie a bulge is bulging."

Stan glanced down at himself and flushed. He brought his hands to his lap, and said, "We ought to wait for Bob. Shouldn't we?"

"There's no conviction in your voice," said Jan as she undid another button, walked over to Stan, grabbed his curly hair and brought his face to her breasts.

Jan motioned to Sandy with a jerk of her head. Tacitly signaling her to come join in. Jan pulled Stan's head back. He grinned as Sandy lifted the hem of her nightie past her honey-colored pussy, wiggled her hips and came toward him with a slow, slutty glide.

When Sandy stood close to Stan, still sitting in his chair, Jan pushed his head between Sandy's thighs. "Give Sandy a good morning kiss."

Sandy held her nightie up in one hand and the back of Stan's chair with the other as she spread her legs far apart. Stan smelled her freshness as he nuzzled his tongue into her furry softness and wiggled the tip of his tongue through her pussy lips. As he lick, lick, licked, Sandy's eyes began to glass over. She locked glances with Jan who smiled encouragement. After a full minute, Sandy broke away, breathing hard and weak-kneed. "I can't take it anymore. I'm about to collapse." She struggled to the nearest chair.

Jan leaned down and kissed Stan's wet lips, tasting Sandy's sweet essence. With her free hand she unbuckled Stan's belt and got his zipper down. "Stand up and drop your pants, sweetie, Momma wants a big stuffed sausage for breakfast."

Stan stood. As Jan got to her knees, she pulled down Stan's shorts along with his pants and out popped his thickened dick. Jan captured it with her mouth while she tickled his balls. Sandy recovered enough to kneel and join Jan whose eyes were closed. Sandy pushed Jan's hair aside and kissed her neck. Jan opened her eyes and pulled her lips away from Stan. Sandy leaned in and took Stan into her own mouth. Jan found Sandy's nipples and tweaked one and then the other.

Bob walked in wearing a bathrobe, smelling of Irish Spring soap and an after shave lotion. "Whoa! You were supposed to wait."

Sandy halted her ministrations to Stan long enough to turn her head and say, "You should have learned by now that the early bird gets the worm. But join the party."

"Better late than never, I suppose."

Jan said, "Let's move into the den. This kitchen floor is hard on knees."

Jan and Sandy got naked as they all hurried into the den. Bob tossed his robe and Stan pulled his shirt off. Jan attacked Bob, leaving Sandy and Stan to finish what was started.

By noon, the girls had been completely ravished. The guys managed two satisfying comes each and the gals lost count of their spasms to paradise. The festivities ended with a quiet little daisy-chain of Jan's head between Bob's thighs, Bob's mouth lightly teasing Sandy's pussy, Sandy nibbling on Stan's spent penis, and Stan finger-stroking Jan. Stan said the muscle under his tongue was too sore to perform anymore.

They rested and napped for another half-hour. Stan finally said, "I'm starved. I can't wait until tonight to get my steak."

"Let's all go shower together," said Sandy. "I'm sticky everywhere."

The four of them had enough room in Sandy and Bob's large double-headed shower. And spirits soared with the giggles of dropping soap and attempted retrieval. Playful shoving to get under the water spray at each end of the glass stall.

The guys went to the store to get steaks and the girls put baked potatoes in the microwave, cut up lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, celery and green onions which they tossed together. Radishes were peeled to form little flowers to place around the edges of the large wooden salad bowl. "Um, we forgot the ripe olives, I'll open a can and sprinkle them over the top," said Sandy.

"What about dressing?" asked Jan.

"I'm keeping every stitch on," smiled Sandy.

"You have an evil mind."

"Yep, and to answer your question, there's Caesar and Ranch in the fridge, and extra virgin olive oil and Tarragon Sprig Wine Vinegar in the pantry."

"I'm not picking up on the 'extra virgin' remark as some person in the room might do."

"Of course not, Jan, you're too virtuous."

The guys grilled the bacon-wrapped filet mignons and they all ate like big pigs. "What's for dessert?" asked Stan.

"Not us," said Jan, "we're off limits for an hour or two."

The guys groaned. "Let's make that a month or two," said Bob, "even eating like this three times a day wouldn't be enough to sustain perpetual sex feasts."

"So you fellows admit to being pussy-whipped?" asked Jan.

"Guilty as charged," said Stan, "but, unlike Bob the wimp, I'll be ready for action again tonight. Uh, better make that tomorrow."

"We have a question," said Sandy, "last night did either of you know who was doing what to you at what times?"

"Easy," said Stan, "I recognized Jan's Opium perfume. She was the first to jump my bones. You two couldn't fool us."

"We have a problem here, Stan. Sandy wears Chanel and that came second."

"That's right," said Sandy, "we both wore the same perfumes for Act One and Act Two."

"Shit," said Stan, "you're sneakier than I thought."

"Not sneaky enough," said Jan; "we lost two mink coats."

"How's that?" asked Bob.

"We planned to make a little bet this morning. You'd owe us each a mink coat if you couldn't guess properly."

"And if we did guess right?"

"We were going to let you have your ways with us in broad daylight, but a funny thing happened on the way to the furrier."

"Yeah," said Sandy, "We blew it. Literally and figuratively. So we lost our bargaining chips."

"But you blew it so beautifully. So satisfyingly."

"We're not complaining. We got to act like minx and that's better than having minks," said Jan. "Speak for yourself, Jan. Bob, honey; I've seen a mink stole downtown that's to die for. Do you think..."

"C'mon, Stan, let's clear the table for our wonderful cooks. We can scrounge the freezer for ice cream or something."

"About the mink?"

"These dishes are making too much of a clatter to hear you, darling." Bob carried plates and saucers back to the kitchen in both hands, jiggling them together as he went.

===============================================

Chapter Nine

alma647

Over the next three months the swapping continued. During the week the couples remained monogamous, except for a few holidays and special occasions (when Sandy and Jan got feisty and announced to their tired husbands that it was going to be a "fun" night). This happened infrequently enough to perk the guys up no matter how stressing their days had been. A few weekend nights they flirted with the idea of Jan being alone with Bob at her house and Stan with Sandy in theirs. The rule was for each of them to be back in their own beds before sunrise. The following days the girls would tell all and critique their husbands' performances. What they discussed never reached the ears of the hubbies.

Everything remained hunky-dory until the third week in January. The men announced they were going on a four day hunting trip the following weekend. The wives jumped at the chance to have swinging sex under the stars in the great outdoors. Not to be! It was strictly a stag affair. Six guys. Jan got the gleam in her eye, but relented.

The girls handled it well until late Wednesday afternoon soon after the guys had left. Stan's secretary, a temp since his regular assistant was out with the flu, called with a message for Stan. The "Girl's for You Modeling Agency" had called to inform Stan that they would only be able to supply three girls rather than four, but assured him the three had extensive experience and should perform well. "Yeah, hunting. Hunting to get a strange piece of ass," stormed Jan.

"How could they?" asked Sandy. "No telling what strange diseases they might bring home."

"Men are never satisfied. Look at our president. He has a bimbo stashed in every closet in the White House."

"It hasn't been proved."

"Get a brain. He orders kneepads by the gross. He probably snaps his fingers and points to his crotch and down the ladies drop."

"The economy's blasting along."

"And so is the financial success of our husbands, but I'm no Hilary. Getting even is twice the satisfaction of getting mad. But Hilary's most likely making things plenty uncomfortable in the Clinton household."

"What revenge is appropriate for those jerks?"

"Let's mix a couple of martinis and decide."

As they sipped, Sandy said, "We could cut them off for awhile."

"That cut's us off too. Unless..."

"That gleam in your eye always makes me nervous."

"I say we have a night on the town. I enjoyed that Rathskeller Restaurant. Do you...?"

"How could I forget? Do you think they'll remember us?"

"I doubt it. But so what?"

"What would we wear?"

"As you always say, 'gotcha going, haven't I?'"

Sandy twisted her hands together as if trying to squeeze water from a rag. "I don't know. The thought excites me, but we could catch something."

"Who said anything about fucking?"

"Well, uh, I just... it crossed my mind, but...."

"Relax. It may happen. I was only joshing you."

"But only if the guys wear protection. That is, if anything happens."

"There's a problem with the Rathskeller. The guys are young, very young, and single. It's safer with someone older who's married. Young kids get crushes and have nothing to lose by blabbing. Let's hit some classy places. Mature men have more experience and aren't in such a rush to only please themselves."

"Good thinking. Sounds like you've done this before."

"Wishful thinking. It's five o'clock now. Let's bathe and spiffy up. The jackets we wore last time worked well, since we can button up or down to let guys know how much they diddle our fancy."

"That was in September. Not too swift for this weather. It's cold outside."

"Not too cold for those cheating husbands of ours."

"Bob said something about a cabin."

"A little whorehouse in the woods?"

Sandy set her jaw. "Sexy. We want to dress sexy but not freeze our tits off."

"I like my white lamb's wool mock turtleneck body suit, with the cut-away bare shoulder's. It has the skirt slit on one side to mid-thigh. It clings to my boobs and my nipples will stand out."

"Perfect. It covers everything but shows it too. How about me?"

"Your black sculptured tank dress with the triple straps on each side of that low scoop neckline is an attention getter. It's cut above your knees."

"My arms will be bare. Yours is long-sleeved."

"The white jeweled sweater!"

"Yeah. The dress is solid black. I won't be too-too. Conservative earrings and no necklace. You can wear your gold bracelet and the gold dangling earrings."

"Sophisticated ladies to attract distinguished gentleman. But where do we go?"

"The Beverly-Wilshire?"

"Maybe, but we might run into an acquaintance."

"So? We're having a drink before dinner. Our husbands are out of town."

"Let's eat before we go so we can hit several places and not take time for dinner."

"Okay. Be ready by 7:30."

They sat at a table for four in the bar at the Wilshire, basking in the elegant atmosphere. The pianist played show tunes and they sipped martinis. Several expensively dressed gentlemen made subtle inquires about joining them. The problem: old farts. "Those that can afford this place seem to be on the wrong side of sixty," said Jan.

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