FOUR'S A CROWD




We were making love maybe twice a month. "The problem," Joanne had once
said to me, "is that you're just too damn unimaginative. Has it ever
occurred to you that there might be more to lovemaking than just kissing
my breasts and climbing on top?"

After living together for a year, the relationship was spiraling down
into the doldrums. Jo wasn't even my type physically -- I like 'em big,
blonde, and curvy and she's a petite brunette. We didn't have much else
in common either. We weren't even talking much. In short, we were just
plain bored with each other.

One evening she brought home one of those weirdo magazines that they
sell under the counter. I had never heard of "Swinging Couples" before,
but we ended up poring over it for hours.

We placed an an ad there.

   MF twosome in their mid 30's seek same or older to explore
   the swinging lifestyle. Adventuresome, willing to travel,
   willing to try new ways of expressing affection. We are
   both bi-curious.

An even dozen replies came in the mail, about half of which we classified
as possibles.

After a few exchanges of letters and numerous phone conversations,
we narrowed it down to two couples, then one.


Marv and Winnie Burton were intelligent people in their mid 50's.
They lived in western Texas. He was a retired civil engineer and she
a registered nurse. They were RV people, spending at least a couple of
months of each year on the road. We agreed to meet.

On an evening several weeks later, the phone rang, and it was Winnie,
telling me to expect them at our door momentarily. A half hour later,
there was a throaty rumble outside as a huge vehicle painstakingly
maneuvered into three adjacent vacant spaces of our apartment building's
parking lot. At first I thought it was a bus, but Jo, laughing and
nudging me, asked if I had never seen a mobile home before.

Winnie was a very tall, plump woman, with graying blonde hair. Her
husband was couple of inches shorter, maybe 5'9", and a well-muscled
flannel-shirt-and-hiking-boots outdoorsy type. We sat around talking
while Jo whipped together some light snacks and got out the fondue cooker.

It was getting on toward midnight, and by then all four of us knew we
could stand each other's company without discomfort. We were socially
compatible, but now what? The conversation wound down, then stopped.

Jo broke the silence. "I'd like to spend the night with Marv, if he's
willing." She smiled shyly at me. "Cal, could you possibly work something
out with Winnie, if she's agreeable?"

She was.

Marv stayed in the apartment with Jo while I accompanied Winnie down to
to their parked RV.

"This is a 26-footer, Cal. It's fairly small, as such things go, but it
has most of the amenities of home. I'd be happy to show you. Step right
on up."

Such a luminous smile she had, there under the stars and the orange
sodium-arc lights. I followed her bouncy round ass up the metal steps.

She switched on the interior lights. "It's battery power when the engine's
not running," she explained. With a distinct click, she bolted the door
behind us. Down the aisle, in the very back, was a fancy-looking
queen-size bed.

Her cool hand on my forehead momentarily startled me. "You're very
tense," she said. "I know just what you need to relax. As a nurse,
I'm professionally knowledgeable about such things. While I freshen up,
you can take your clothes off and make yourself comfortable on the bed."

I was nervous, all right, but I undressed down to T-shirt and Jockey
shorts. My feet ached from a long day at work, and that bed sure did
look inviting. I slipped under the covers and closed my eyes.

"Wake up, sleepy head."

She was standing at the foot of the bed, smiling and holding something
aloft. I recognized it, all right. It was an old-fashioned red rubber
enema bottle.

"This is just what you need to unwind," she said, and winked. "I don't
know if you've ever had an enema, but it can be a very soothing and
enjoyable experience. And, after that, we can proceed to other matters,
if you're up to it." That endearing smile again. Marv was a lucky man,
all right. Maybe it was my turn to get lucky tonight. I smiled back.

She pulled back the covers and I tensed up involuntarily. "Oho, you're
a little shy. No need for that. I'm a nurse, remember? Roll over on your
tummy and put yourself in my professional care."

Lying face-down, I felt her gently slide my underwear down past my knees,
then all the way off. She was caressing, then massaging my buttocks.

"A very nicely shaped little butt you've got on you, sir. We'll
be cleansing the interior of that particular part of your anatomy
momentarily. You're a beginner at this, so we'll start off nice and
easy. You'll only get a quart this time. Just relax."

My buttocks were feeling nice and warm and loose by now. I loved the
feel of her strong capable hands on them. Now she was lightly stroking
between the cheeks, and I felt something cold and moist at the entrance
to my anus.

"Just a little lubricant to let the nozzle slip in more easily. Ready
now?" Her voice had gotten a little hoarse. Or was that an undertone
of excitement?

"Carry on, nurse."

I felt a slight pressure, then something slid into me. A gush of liquid
warmth spread through my insides, then there was a gradually building
feeling of fullness. Somehow, in the midst of all this, I had gotten
a solid hardon. Funny thing, that. I wasn't sure whether to be proud
or embarrassed.

"Let me know if I should stop. If it gets unpleasant or painful, I can cut
off the flow." Her soft reassuring voice came from above and behind me.

I was starting to feel unpleasantly full, as if something were blowing
up my lower guts like a balloon. Manfully, I tried to hold out.

"Almost there. Just a little more cleansing water into you. You're a
brave little boy. Momma approves." I felt a gentle slap on my butt.

She held up the deflated rubber bladder in front of my face with a gleam
in her eye. "You done good. Not everyone can take a full quart their
first time. Now, just hold it in for as long as you can. Five minutes
would be fine, ten even better."

Damn, but I had to get to the toilet. The pressure inside me was screaming
to be set free. I was ready to burst. To explode. To spew that stuff out of
me. Anything to relieve the cramps.

"Hold it in just a bit longer. It works better that way. Make momma proud."

I tried. I really tried. Then I vaulted off the bed and dived into the
small bathroom cubicle. Raised the lid on the commode and sat down just
in time. Then came the explosion. An enormous, watery, gushing, smelly
explosion. I heard applause on the other side of the partition.

About ten minutes later, with my guts thoroughly washed and emptied,
I staggered back to the bed and collapsed. Exhausted and more than a
little sleepy. Limp as a noodle. I didn't know if I were capable of much
of anything. She was lying there waiting for me. Naked.

She gathered me into her arms and pulled my head down to her breast.
I sucked on a nipple for a few minutes then drifted off, pillowed in
her reassuring talcum powdery warmth. The last thing I remembered that
night was the sound of her voice lullabying me to sleep.

I awoke to the crackle of hot grease and the smell of sausages
grilling. My clothes were neatly folded on the nightstand. Stacks
of pancakes with butter and real maple syrup and the sausages on the
side. Grapefruit juice. She sent me off with a lingering kiss.

I walked back up to the apartment to check in with Jo before I took off
for work. She greeted me at the door with an open-mouthed kiss and pulled
me into the living room. Without warning, there she was, bent forward
over the end of the sofa with her skirt flipped up. No underwear. (How
long had it been since she had exposed her gleaming, naked bare ass for
me?) Seconds later I was inside her, and she was slick with moisture,
and I was holding on to her skinny hips and pumping. She screamed as
she came. I was half an hour late for work.



Joanne had always been the dominant partner in the relationship. When
it came to sex she called the shots. I was the shy one.

I remember the first time we made love. We had only known each other
a couple of weeks. She was driving me home from a poetry reading and I
noticed we were on an unfamiliar road. She pulled off into a dark side
street, unbuckled, then opened her door.

"It's a beautiful night out and I feel like a walk. Look at how brilliant
the stars are. I see them reflected in your eyes."

We walked and she pulled me close and we cuddled while we walked. Her
cheek was cold. She took my hand and pulled it inside her blouse. Her
breast was hot.

We kissed in that secluded place on a nameless street. "I love- "

"Hush," she said. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you. You
were so needy, and it touched something deep inside me. I can't resist
wounded creatures. Come here."

We were behind a small grove of trees, and without any warning she had
pulled down her skirt and was bending over. She presented her bare behind
to me.

"Come here," she said. "Come to me. You know what to do now. I need you.
I need you inside me. I'm so empty. Fill me."

Then and there I filled her, and it was the beginning for us. Things
were never quite that good again.



That evening, Marv and Winnie were already there when I came home. Jo
had fixed one of her Cal-Mex black bean taco specials (shredded cheese
and hot sauce optional). The four of us were all smiles, and there was
no shyness or hesitancy.

After dinner, Winnie insisted on putting on a "show" for the rest of
us. I dimmed the lights, and she took center stage. She sang a couple
of 1950s Broadway hits (quite a decent voice she had), then, with a
few showbiz-type flourishes, removed her blouse. Another song. Her
bra joined the blouse on the floor. Two more songs and she was wearing
nothing at all.

She walked over to Marv and took him by the hand. Slowly she undressed
him, then pulled his erect penis into her mouth. He huffed and puffed
a couple of times, mimed steam coming out of his ears, then withdrew
from her lips. He tongued her breasts, traced a line of kisses downward,
then got on his knees and sucked her clit. She groaned, then laughed.

"We'll take requests," she announced.

Jo raised her hand and asked for the doggie position. Winnie bent over on
hands and knees and wiggled her ass provocatively. Marv positioned himself
behind her and got ready to insert. Winnie suddenly giggled, then farted
loudly. Marv waved a hand in front of his face and laughed in turn. "Quite
a sense of timing the gal has. And they call *me* an old gasbag."

He grabbed on to her hips and put himself into her, reached around to
hold her breasts, then pumped. The sight of him bouncing off her plump
round ass excited me, despite the rank fart smell filling the room. His
own ass wasn't all that bad, either.

I pulled Jo onto my lap, reached down and began stroking her pussy. She
stood up, shrugged out of her panties, and, facing away from me, eased
down onto my hard dick with a practiced wiggle of her torso. With both
hands around her, I tweaked her nipples while she milked me. All four
of us were making love within sight of each other. It was the nearest
thing to an orgy I had ever taken part in.

A bit later, we traded partners. Winnie lay on her back on the carpeted
floor, raised her knees to her chest, and took me into her for the first
time. She turned out to have a trained pussy. A nutcracker. The sensations
were so intense that I couldn't spare any attention for Marv and Jo.

That just about wrapped up the evening. After a late snack, our guests
left and I fell asleep in my own bed in Jo's arms.



The following evening, we took a break from sex. The four of us went to
an outdoor concert in a nearby park. Sousa's military marches and Handel's
"Music for the Royal Fireworks".

"There's a quaint little family-run Italian restaurant not too far
out of our way," Jo said as we were walking back to the car. "Chewy,
garlicky pasta, and the atmosphere's warm and home-like."

Garlicky indeed. Afterwards, enjoying wedges of key lime pie and fighting
off heartburn, we got to talking about, of all things, finances.

"Yeah, we do like it out here in Simonton, but the problem is the high
cost of living," I was saying between suppressed belches. "Rent for
our two bedroom apartment runs $900 a month, and when you factor in
electricity and the heating surcharge . . . forget it."

"Well, what's keeping you here then?" Marv asked. "Your jobs? Family
attachments? Friends?"

I had to admit that it was mostly inertia. Pulling up stakes and moving
was such a hassle, after all.

"You might consider settling out in our neck of the woods, out west of the
Pecos . . . Van Horn, Texas," Marv said. He suppressed a belch. "Beautiful
country -- mountains nearby, cheap living, and I could probably fix up
the both of you with decent jobs.

"You're a what? Systems programmer, you said? There's a new software
outfit starting up a few miles down the road from us and I'm know
they're desperate for skilled people. Jo can get a job teaching in a
county school. Lord knows, there's a shortage of experienced teachers.

"As for living accommodations, you might consider an RV. You could get
a used one for only a few thou, and space rental in a trailer park is
pretty cheap. For that matter, you could buy a couple of acres of land
to park the RV. Even paying a mortgage, you'd be considerably better
off financially than you are now."

I had a mouthful of questions. We sat and talked. And snacked. And talked.

It was past midnight when yawns began to overpower the discussion, and we
drove home to warm beds. To sleep. And think.



Now it was Friday night. "This will be something special," Marv had
promised. I couldn't imagine how it could get any more special than it
had already been, but he told me to wait, just wait.

"Winnie likes it in the ass," he said.

She laughed out loud at this. "I don't like it in the ass half as much
as he likes giving it to me there. And as for taking it up the ass,
ah-huh, well, that's it's a tossup as to who likes it there more."

I had often fantasized about fucking a woman in the ass, but had never
actually done it. Jo had been willing to consider it early in our
relationship, but had we had never gotten beyond talking about it. She
was afraid it might be too painful, and I had some issues with hygiene.

"Show us," I told them.

Marv lovingly undressed Winnie. He kissed her long and hard, then moved
down to her nipples. Five minutes later, she was arching her back
and scratching long, red welts on his forearms. He traced a line of
kisses down, down toward her pussy, then spent a good while tonguing,
then sucking her clit. She was gasping as he raised her legs over his
shoulders and inserted himself into her, then held still without stroking.

"Ready, honey?" he asked.

"Give it to me. Put the eight ball into the side pocket. Or rather,
put your cue stick there."

He pulled out of her, and she positioned herself on hands and knees. I
handed him the tube of lubricant he reached out for. Now he was gently
massaging the valley between her ripe, round buttocks. He inserted a
finger, then two, finally three into her rosebud. Her sphincter stretched
and opened up as he rotated his hand, then slowly withdrew it.

"Ready, mate?" he asked.

"Check, mate," she answered.

He gradually pressed the head of his cock into her ass, rocked back,
then pressed in again. Her opening dimpled, then yielded. "Here we go,
baby. Sliding past the ring. Shooting the rapids now."

He was all the way in, pumping in and out, seemingly in slow-motion. The
sight of his hard dick slowly disappearing into her backside then
reemerging coated with gleaming lubricant was almost more than I could
bear. Jo had moved in for a close-up look.

"I'm going into lecture mode," he said. "I expect you all to take notes.
Look at how gently I press in. The friction, and much of the sensation
comes from the out stroke, just the opposite from cunt fucking. The
ass is considerably more fragile a vessel than the pussy, and it needs
special care."

There was a faint pop as he pulled out of Winnie's ass. He pointed at
me. "All right, demo's over. Cal, your turn now. Final exam time."

I was hard as a rock and Winnie's round, stretched asshole was beckoning,
pulling at me like an electromagnet. There was a glistening drop of
something (lube? come?) quivering at the crimson-rimmed entrance. I
stood behind her and rubbed my hands over her lush cheeks. Holding on
to her hips, I placed the tip of my dick against her innermost gate and
gingerly pressed forward.

It was surprisingly easy to slide in. The sensation was almost like
being inside a pussy, but tighter, and yes, somehow smoother, with
a gently rippling texture. Like slipping into a silky, ribbed velvet
tunnel. Fucking a silk-lined tube . . . a tube whose function was passing
foul-smelling feces and noxious gas . . . yes. Yes! Then Winnie clamped
down hard on my dick and I almost passed out as I came.

While I had been otherwise occupied, Marv had been instructing Jo in the
theory and practice of ass fucking. "The side-by-side spoon position
is the easiest and most gentle for beginners to receive in," he was
saying. Winnie had her arm around me and was nuzzling my neck as I
watched Marv inserting into Jo's ass, then comforting her as she winced.

"There, that's better now. Once I'm past the ring, all you feel is a
gentle stretching, and possibly a mild burning sensation. I'll finger
your clit while I'm in you." Jo's face relaxed, then she closed her eyes
and her lips settled into a faint smile.

I must have drifted off with my head on Winnie's breasts (they made plush,
comfortable pillows). Marv's voice wakened me.

"I saw you staring at my ass while I was doing Jo, Cal old fellow.
Interested in getting inside me? Simon says, fuck him in the ass."

I was instantly hard again. I hadn't really been thinking of doing that,
not consciously, but what had happened tonight must have stirred up
old fantasies from the dusty recesses of my mind.

He took me by the hand and led me over to an exercise mat spread out in
the corner. He handed me a tube of lube and positioned himself on hands
and knees.

"Now, the trick is to slather the lube on. Squeeze some on your index
finger and press it into my ass. Not so hard. Easy does it. Do it again,
and repeat until the stuff is oozing out of me. Now, put two fingers
in and stretch me a little. Side to side, and up and down. Spread the
fingers and swivel them around. That's it. Now, more lube. Try three
fingers. I do believe I'm ready for you. The door's wide open. Lube up
your dick and come right on in."

By feel, it wasn't really all that much different than the inside of
Winnie's ass. Well, maybe just a little tighter. I hesitantly told Marv
that after I had fully inserted.

"No shit, fella. An ass is an ass is an ass. An ass by any other name."
That's all I need, I thought, a literature-spouting smartass. I commenced
fucking that smart ass.

Oh, that was good. I had come inside him, but was still partly hard when
I pulled out. Still horny.  Still wanting something or other. He noticed.

"You want to find out what it feels like? Inside *you*, I mean." Marv
was smiling at me as he used a damp towel to mop up the semen seeping
out of him.

I was curious. Very curious. His detailed explanation of the art of
bottoming must have tripped a relay in my head. I was totally hard
again and both my penis and anal sphincter were throbbing in rhythm with
my heartbeat.

"Lay down on your left side. You'll find it easier to relax that way.
Now I'm going to prepare you the same way you did me. Don't worry, I'll
be gentle."

He lay down behind me and began massaging my neck. I closed my eyes and
let my breathing slow. Then I pulled my top knee part way up toward my
chest, as instructed.

"Good boy," he said. "Now, I'll lubricate and stretch your opening a bit.
That'll soothe and relax it."

He stroked, then kneaded my buttocks. For a split-second I flashed back
to the feel of Winnie's hands doing the exact same thing. The technique
was identical. I jumped involuntarily as his fingertip stroked between
the cheeks. It was like a jolt of electricity. But it felt (ah!) so
good as he rubbed something slippery into the groove down there, and
fingered my opening with a feather-light touch. Now I felt something
gently inserting into me.

"Relax. It's just a single finger. Push out. Press out as if you were
having a bowel movement. Gently."

I felt the finger slip in further, then slowly withdraw.

"Two fingers now. Feel the slight stretch. I'm going to spread them
slightly and rotate. That will stretch and relax you even more."

Still doing fine. Dick hard as a rock.

"The final test. Three fingers. If you can take that, you're ready for
the big time. How does that feel?"

I felt open and vulnerable . . . and eager to get on with it.

"Go ahead, Marv. Fuck me."

I could feel the stretch, the steadily increasing pressure as he gradually
pressed against, then into my hole.

"I'm just past the entrance and holding steady. Ready to pop past the
ring. Pop your cherry, so to speak. Are you okay with that?"

"Do it. Fuck my ass."

My sphincter stretched apart with a painless shock and he was inside.
Inside me. He was sliding up into me with no resistance and there was
a slippery column of flesh moving up into me and filling my intestine.
I was filling up with him, then I was full and his thighs pressed against
my ass cheeks. He was totally inside me. It felt a little strange, but
there was no discomfort. It excited me in a way I had never experienced.

Again, he checked with me. "I'm going to rock and roll now, but stop me
if you feel any discomfort."

(He was fucking me. Fucking me in the ass. Did that change me somehow?
Make me queer?)

I felt him sliding in and out, and it was exciting me more and more. Was
it my imagination, or was friction heating up the inside of my ass? I was
burning with fever. Then, his hand reached around me and grabbed my dick.

"I'm almost ready to pop off, Cal, and I want you to come at the same
time. You'll know why in a minute." His lubricated hand sang up and down
my throbbing dick. I howled and spurted, and my asshole clenched and
released, clenched and released against the hard shaft corking me up,
which was now squirting bursts of hot liquid up into my bowels. Into
the place where my shit came from. Into the dark, deep mystery. Into my
guts. Into the very heart of me.

I heard cheers and felt blood rush to my face. The women had been watching
our performance, watching me being ass-fucked, watching me being opened up
and hollowed out. I was blushing like a teenage girl. What was happening
to me?

That night I dreamed . . . I couldn't remember what I dreamed. I awoke
short of breath and soaked in sweat. Jo made me some herb tea and told
me to stay home from work. I took two aspirin and went anyway.



Saturday night. Over cheese lasagna, we discussed going on an RV
trip together. A weekend outing seemed to be a good way to introduce
Jo and myself to that way of life. We planned it for the very next
week. Meanwhile, we had other matters to attend to.

"Do you know what 'double bubble' means?" Marv asked me.

"Yeah, it has something to do with chewing gum, doesn't it?" I wisecracked.

"El wrongo! It's a woman taking it in both openings at once. Winnie goes
wild when she does it. It's an unusually intense sensation for the men
involved, too."

"Hmm. Sounds interesting. I assume you brought it up because you want
us to do it. I'm game if everyone else is."

Marv pointed at Winnie. "You on, honey?"

She had closed her eyes and was smiling dreamily. "Mmm. If my two strong
men are up to it . . . "

I turned to Jo. "Baby, would it gross you out seeing that?"

She laughed.

Presently, I was on my back and Winnie was on top, facing me, and
squatting as I put myself into her. She bent over forward and supported
herself on hands and knees straddling me. Marv approached and grasped
her hips. Meanwhile Jo was watching the proceedings with what looked
like clinical interest.

I could feel when Marv inserted into her rear aperture. Her pussy seemed
to tighten up, and there was a firm pressure against the one side of
my dick. I could actually feel him through the back wall of Winnie's
cunt. It was tight in there, like being wedged in.

"Just stay fully inside without trying to move," Marv said. "I'll do the
thrusting. Wait'll you feel how tight she grips when she comes like this.
It'll blow your brains out."

It did, too. She howled like a demon, bore down and spasmed, and that
set Marv and me off at the same time. Holy shit!

"Some other time, we'll switch positions. Not now . . . Winnie needs
about a week to recuperate from this."

An hour later, as we were sitting at the table sipping wine, I mentioned
a long-time fantasy of mine.

"Have you ever heard of a 'San Francisco sandwich'?"

"Yep," Marv answered. "That's when the guy in the middle fucks the woman,
while the other guy gets behind him and fucks him in the ass. Now that's
something I haven't tried in a good while, but I used to be considered
somewhat of an expert on it. Are you game?"

"Who gets the middle spot?"

"How 'bout you, tonight? I'm still sore from when you ass-fucked me a
couple of nights back."

"Sounds like a winner. Let's see if Jo's up for it. Winnie looks a bit
used up after what we did to her."

Jo was not only ready; she was eager. "Let's do it in front of the wall
mirror, so I can see the action behind me. Just give me a couple of
minutes to freshen up."

Actually, I also needed a few minutes to freshen up. I thought it might
be a good idea to evacuate my bowels before Marv explored them with his
dick (he might not appreciate encountering any digestive byproducts). A
quick enema would leave me squeaky clean inside.

As I closed the bathroom door behind me, I could hear him in his
lecture mode.

"There are three basic techniques for 'making a sandwich':

"The simplest has the woman bend forward over bed, the middle guy enters
her from behind and rests his weight on her back, while the end guy fucks
middle.

"Method number two is similar, but the end guy stays embedded in the
middle without movement, holding onto him by his hips as he fucks the
woman and comes, then finishes in him if necessary.

"Method number three, the most difficult, involves synchronized movement
by middle and end (either both thrusting forward at the same time,
or alternating in tempo). That takes a lot of practice to get right."

We agreed on the first method.

Marv piled sofa pillows in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Jo bent
forward and rested her chest on them. She had already stripped for action
-- totally naked. I was hard and throbbing.

 From behind, I slid all the way into that familiar velvet-lined pouch
and stretched out over her back. I reached underneath and cupped her
breasts. Marv asked if I was ready. I braced myself against the bend of
Jo's posterior and told him to let fly.

His finger was rubbing lube between my cheeks, then massaging it into my
hole. That almost brought me off right there, but I just did manage to
hold back. Barely. Seconds later there was the feel of something large
and hard slowly pressing into me. I relaxed my buttocks and pushed out
gently to unlock the sphincter ring muscles. The mild stretching and
the pulse of fullness rippling upward in my lower gut sent a wave of
dizziness washing over me and my ears began ringing.

I was trying to figure out whether it felt better in front or in back
. . . and decided it was more intense in back, but more soothing in front,
and the combination was like eating a double-scoop ice cream cone with
two wildly different flavors.

I was teetering on the edge, then I toppled. The rhythmically pumping
piston in my ass seemed to be forcing stored up vital essence out of
me and into Jo's cunt. Each time Marv bottomed out in me, it propelled
a high-pressure spurt of my come into her. (I seemed to have been
transformed into a hydraulic syphon!) I kept coming and coming and dimly
heard Jo cry out, and her clutching pussy gripped me tighter and a thin
scream escaped me.

I held on to Jo's swaying hips and stayed inside her moments more,
as my hardness faded away.  Finally, my deflating dick slipped out
of her moist crevice and I collapsed face down, drained and depleted,
while Marv continued pounding in and out of me. Intense! Too intense!

Limp and totally depleted of come and desire, I became a passive
receptacle for the dick embedded in my stretched and distended asshole,
thrusting in and out of the cavernous depths of my rectum. It must have
been another ten minutes before I mercifully felt him twitching and
spurting inside me. Now I knew what the filling in a cheese sandwich
felt like. A grilled cheese sandwich.

We lay hooked up and inert a while longer before disengaging in a sweaty
tangle of limbs and pungent smells and residual stickiness. Winnie had
been watching and capturing the action on a hand-held videocam all the
while. We were movie stars. Porn stars.



During the week, we saw Winnie and Marv only once. I spent a night alone
with Marv in the rig, both fucking and being fucked, but when I woke
up, I was in Winnie's arms. My ass ached, but my dick was hard and she
comforted me and took me into her.

Packing for our trip took most of our free time. Mostly I was feeling
totally depleted and needed a rest from sex for a while.



Jo shook me awake early Saturday. Early? It was 3:00 a.m. Time to leave
and I was too groggy to do much more than throw on the clothes laying
at the foot of the bed and grab a donut. Twenty minutes later, I was
sitting in a padded captain's chair looking over Winnie's shoulder as
she piloted the behemoth toward the entrance to the expressway.

Suddenly I jerked awake. There was a heavy weight on my lap. The false
dawn glowed on the horizon and the console speedometer was steady at
70. I couldn't see who was driving.

Winnie was sitting on me, astride my thighs, facing forward. She fumbled
with one hand beneath herself, trying to insert me into her. My fly was
open and she didn't have anything on under her skirt. I popped in and
she eased down on me. I slid all the way up inside her moist warmth.

An hour or so later we pulled into a rest stop. The women visited the
facilities while Marv and I chatted.

"Winnie's at her peak early in the wee hours of the morning. Not like me
-- I need my beauty sleep. Looks like you left her satisfied, though. She
was lit up like a 100 watt bulb just now."

"Thanks, but I think she just drained my battery. I'm depleted. How's
about some breakfast?"

Fried eggs, hash browns, and juice did the trick. Those truck stop diners
sure know how to rev a sleepy person up. An hour later, we were on the
road again.



Late in the afternoon, I was catching a snooze in that soft bed in the
back. We were highballing toward the state line and the clickety-clack
road sounds had lulled me into a deep slumber. I jolted awake to the
feel of a hand on my dick. Man's hand or woman's? I didn't much care
at that particular moment. I was horny as hell, and either inserting or
being inserted into was fine with me.

It turned out to be Marv's hand, and it was my ass he was after. He helped
me onto my hands and knees, and lo and behold, there was Jo at the foot
of the bed with a strange smile. She reached for my dick, still drooping,
and pulled it into her mouth. The dick expanded rapidly to fill available
space, and meanwhile Marv was parting my ass cheeks. He entered me and
began a slow pumping rhythm as Jo sucked at my shaft. The sensations
were similar to being sandwiched, to fucking and simultaneously being
fucked. It was like being pulled apart like a strand of taffy, like
dissolving in a glass of water, like being melted in a furnace. The wash
of physical sensations blurred the boundaries between Self and Other,
and for a moment I forgot who I was and I ceased to care. Awareness
seeped back into me as I felt Marv's throbbing and wetness inside my
gut as I simultaneously unloaded down Jo's throat.

There was laughter from up front, and I realized that the sliding privacy
door had been open the whole time. Winnie had been viewing the entire
spectacle in the rear-view mirror. Luckily, she hadn't rear-ended anyone
while she was watching me being rear-ended.



We pulled into an RV park to stay overnight. Just sleep was on my agenda
that night, but the next morning was a different matter. I had awakened
with an inspiration.

The scenery on the mountain road was inspiring. I had my mind on other
matters, though. We had stopped for a picnic lunch at a rest stop
overlooking the winding descent down into a lush valley. There were a
couple of cars and a tractor-trailer parked there. That would provide
just enough of an element of risk for what I had in mind.

A rather bizarre fantasy had surfaced in my imagination. Just how much
fucking could my ass take before it got too sore to continue? Add to that
the titillating possibility of being caught in the act by strangers. . . .

I explained it to the others. Everyone would take turns fucking me. Marv
could use his natural equipment, while the two women would wear strapons.
The challenge was for me to hold out for an hour or more.

Jo was dubious. "You seem to have gone overboard on this ass fucking
thing. And it's starting do do weird things to my mind. Sure, it excites
me seeing you on the receiving end, but I think maybe there's a limit."

The rest of us were eager to try it, and Jo didn't want to be a
spoilsport.

Uphill from the paved area, the mountainside looked to be densely
overgrown with scrub pine, high weeds, and various species of brush.
Perfect concealment for small game . . . and small games of the kind I
had in mind.

Off we went, with picnic baskets, blankets, and knapsacks. There was
a small clearing amidst clumps of waist-high undergrowth and thickets.
Perfect for our purposes.

Food first -- sandwiches, jerky, and trail mix, washed down with lots
of lemonade. Then, quickly scoping the area and setting Marv and Jo as
lookouts, we were ready to begin. I dropped my pants and bent over.

Winnie took the first turn with me, and she began fucking me with an
nine-inch dildo. Our two "lookouts" kept glancing over their shoulders
at us, and I could hear an occasional snicker. After about ten minutes
of this, my ass was beginning to get sore, and I still hadn't come.

Marv traded places with Winnie. I was tired of standing bent over, so we
got down on our hands and knees on a doubled-over blanket. He stuck his
dick into me and began pumping enthusiastically. A cloud drifted over the
sun and a sudden chilly wind gust blew a scattering of dried leaves over
us. I was was breaking out in goosebumps. Not long after that, I felt
the familiar twitching in my gut and the wetness. Marv motioned to Jo.
She took her time walking over and there was a strange look on her face.

Jo was moving in and out of me, but her rhythm began dragging. I could
tell she wasn't too keen about the whole idea. She stopped, paused
a moment, then abruptly pulled out of me with a "splut" of leaking
lubricant and second-hand sperm.

"I've had my fill of this," she announced, then turned around and began
walking downhill. And that was the end of that.



On the road that evening, riding back toward our apartment, I had some
painful issues to deal with. What, exactly, had I been trying to prove
with that last escapade? What I had gotten from it was very little in the
way of pleasure, a sore and abraded asshole, and an upset and alienated
partner. Jo hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to any of us for
the last few hours.

Maybe, just maybe, wall-to-wall sex wasn't what I was looking for in
life.  Since meeting Marv and Winnie, I had gotten no closer to personal
fulfillment, or to fathoming the deeper meaning of life (if there even
was such a thing). I was certainly no happier, and my relationship with
Jo had not, on balance, improved. Something was very wrong here.

Sexual variety wasn't the cure for what ailed me, or what ailed Jo and
me as a couple. There was something much more fundamental missing. We
had been drifting apart for some time now, and swinging had widened the
gap into a chasm.



I remember the first time I met Joanne. I was sitting in the waiting
room at the dentist's office. Waiting. Reading a magazine and waiting
to have my teeth drilled. Not a pleasant way to pass an afternoon. Nope.

There was only one other person waiting there in the waiting room. She
was a cute little brunette with a nice smile and a pert little butt. I
had noted that smile when we nodded and said hello in the elevator on the
way up. I had noted that butt when she preceded me into the waiting room.

"You're interested in literature, are you?" Her voice had torn through my
reverie. I was leafing through a copy of the "New Yorker," not because
I particularly wanted to read it, but it had just happened to be in the
most accessible part of the magazine rack. Anything to occupy my mind. I
dreaded anything to do with dental work.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Literature. Greatest invention since sliced bread. Keeps
the human race out of mischief. Sure."

She had chuckled, and there was that warm smile again. She was amused. She
enjoyed my company! I was never much good at repartee, and my unrehearsed
effort came out sounding somewhat near to spontaneous. It occurred to
me in that moment that I could get to like this little lady.

We talked about many thing there and then in that bleak waiting room.
Work, life, the state of the economy, and fear of flossing. Then the
receptionist called her in. Only scant moments later, she emerged,
and smiled at me again. "It wasn't so bad. You'll probably survive it."

I must have winced, because she came over and hugged me. The hug turned
into an embrace. A warm embrace. She gave me a quick pat on the butt as
I left to take my turn at being drilled. As the dentist probed my mouth
with shiny sharp instruments I noticed a folded note protruding from my
shirt pocket.

"Imagine finding a kindred soul in this cold, sterile place. I don't
want to lose you. My phone number is . . . "



Marv and Winnie sensed that they had worn out their welcome. They chugged
back to Van Horn, Texas in their rig. They wrote occasionally, but their
letters made it clear that they had no plans to come out our way again
any time soon.

Jo moved out a couple of months later. The last I heard, she was married
to a radio evangelist, and had handily won reelection to the county school
board on the strength of a promise to remove all "obscene and suggestive"
material from classrooms and libraries.

It happened that some enterprising soul with a telephoto lens had captured
our extracurricular activities on that fateful mountainside. The pictures
have since graced quite a few Internet porn sites. Fortunately, none
of the faces are recognizable. Imagine, an ultra-respectable school
board member caught in sodomistic pursuits in the midst of pristine
wilderness. . . . Not exactly a career-enhancing move.

I've been living in splendid solitude for the past year. Celibacy,
I've found, focuses the mind wonderfully. I glory in the freedom to
do what I want, do it when I want to, and without being accountable
to anyone else. And, you know, I enjoy my newly quiet and predictable
life, free of the complications and roller coaster peaks and plunges
of a relationship. I'm totally my own man finally, and loneliness is a
small price to pay for that.