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Wife Swappers




It had been a slightly more than casual observation from afar. I was no more attracted to her, than any other random attractive girl. I would see her occasionally from afar, think, "Boy do I wanna stick my dick in that," and that'd be about it. I talked to her a few times, but only momentarily, enough to be asked for a dollar, or to bitch about some moron who was being irritatingly stupid, cheer her on when she skate-boarded down the hall of a building, or to be kicked in the head on one occasion. But I had never considered her as anything but an object for my lustful desires.

With her, lustful desires came quite easily. She had a very distinct look to her, one of indiscernible origin, but it had a particularly animalistic quality to it, something that encompassed all of the sly and seductive aspects of the animal world. She was though, inarguably very attractive of face. Her face was framed by brown hair that was naturally highlighted lighter in parts; well, except when it was purple. Her breasts were rather large, and seemed very well shaped, not altering a bit when she didn't wear a bra. She usually wore a navel ring, which sort of distracted from her otherwise very attractive abdomen. She normally wore rather boyish clothing, occasionally allowing herself to wear a skirt, but never anything very revealing, enough that for a while I questioned her orientation. Her skin was either very well tanned, or naturally a coppery hue, but there didn't seem to be much variation in her skin tone, so my guess has always been the latter. Overall, she was what anyone, whether male or jealously female, would classify as a babe.

One fine Wednesday when I was feeling particularly lazy and a friend of mine was feeling particularly moody over a troublesome boyfriend, I was sitting in the sun, avoiding the weight-training room because the stench of however many years of stale sweat didn't appeal to me on such a fine day. I was doing my best to comfort my friend, but, as female teenagers can notoriously be, she wasn't acting very logical, and not much I could say was particularly persuasive in convincing her that she shouldn't be as upset as she was, and her laughs were rather bitter at my attempted humor, so I soon ceased trying to comfort her verbally.

"C'mon... over here," I said motioning for her to sit in front of me, "I'm gonna give you a massage." With an "Oh goody!" she sat in front of me, with her back to me and I began trying to calm her through a bit of tactile stimulus. I placed my hands around the back of her neck and began gently kneading the soft tissue. The reaction was quite immediate, and quite noticeable; she visibly relaxed in my hands. "You're only succeeding in making both him, and yourself miserable," I said, putting on my most soothing monotone, "and you really have no basis for being upset, only the worries in your head, that you've created for yourself, with no evidence to support them." I added a bit more pressure, manipulating the tension out of her neck and shoulders.

A few groans of approval later, she responded, "But... sometimes I just can't understand what he's thinking, or why he says some of the things he says."

I became conscious of the girl that I was sexually attracted to watching me, and I could almost see her thought-process as she judged me with her light brown eyes, wondering whether there was anything between me, and my friend, who at times, most certainly must have appeared rather coupleish, meanwhile trying to give the impression that she was listening to her friends who she was only half-mindedly paying attention to. Probably just out of not wanting to be perceived as something that I wasn't, but even likelier, a un-based hope that doing so would lead to something, I deliberately spoke a little bit louder, just enough so what I was saying would be audible to someone who was a few meters away, and paying attention to me: "I know he's quite capable of being an ass, but you know as well as I do that it's just a fašade, and has no real substance. There is no alternate meaning behind what he says, he's just trying to be funny, and it just happens to be at your expense occasionally. But your boyfriend does care about you, and he doesn't actually mean anything of what he says."

I watched, out of the corner of my eye, for the girl's reaction to this, and I saw a decision made in her eyes, then saw her look down at the skateboard she was slowly rolling back and forth under her feet, and then absent-mindedly laugh at some joke her awkward-looking male friend made in a attempt I could immediately discern as one to impress someone he was attracted to. Well, I'd found a regular femme fatale to be attracted to, something that actually lessoned her attractiveness in my opinion, even though it was through no fault of her own.

"I don't know... I guess you're right..." she said.

"Of coarse I'm right, It's me remember. When am I ever wrong?" I joked.

Another, less bitter laugh, I think due to my attentions, and "As full of yourself as that sounds, there is some truth to what you say."

I let her poor grammar pass un-corrected, "Not really, I'm just damn good at bullshitting my way into making people believe what I say actually makes sense."
Another laugh. I was confident now in my progress of cheering her up. By now I was methodically digging my fingers into the relaxing muscle of her mid-back, and I could tell that it wasn't going to be long until my massage became pointless. "But seriously, if he ever does anything really that bad, I'll let you borrow my boots and hold him down so you can step on his face."

Her laugh this time was a bit more on the bitter side, but this time, it was justified. "Sounds good to me."

I was satisfied with the lack of tension in her back, so I crawled my fingers up her back a few times to enhance circulation, then reached my arms around her and gave her a reassuring hug.

"It'll be fine dear," I whispered in here ear, "you don't have anything to worry about."

She reached up a hand and squeezed my arm, then said, "Alright, I believe you."

"Good." With that, I released her and she scooted forward and turned around to face me. My attention peaked up when I felt that the girl was walking towards me. I spent a few seconds imagining my possible good fortune, then spent the remaining time quieting my excitement as she approached. Then the deciding moment came when she was at my side. Would she continue walking, and I had gotten my hopes up over nothing, or was I damn lucky today? Luck was most definitely on my side for once.

"Can I get onea those too?" she asked with a quality to her voice that implied she had actually had to work up some courage to talk to me, thus betraying the "life-by-the-balls, it-don't-matter" image she usually tried to convey.

My friend and I both looked up at her, squinting against the bright sun. I hadn't quite worked out all the butterflies, so my response came about a half-second later than I expected it to, but still in time, "Yes," I said quite disappointingly unceremoniously.

It was probably against my better judgment in trying to make my friend feel better, getting attention taken away from her by someone more attractive than her, and when I looked back at her, there was a hint of reluctance and envy in her expression, but she acquiesced to my obvious desire to grope a hot chick.

With a little bit or rearranging, and a pause long enough for her to remove her skater's misconception of cool Webelos cub-scout shirt, she was soon sitting between my spread legs, with her back towards me. She began seducing me almost immediately. She scooted all the way back so her firm ass was pressed against my groin. My first impulse was to resist getting a hard-on. I kept with that impulse as I placed my hands under the thick hair, and began gently kneading through the thing fabric of the cotton white t-shirt she was still wearing. Her shoulders were tensed and I knew that this meant something to her, and that I was going to have little chance in directly accomplishing any physical relief with my massage. I abandoned trying to purposefully ease stress out of any of her muscles and just basically started giving her a rubdown. I moved my hands methodically down her back, barely putting any pressure with my fingers.

Any doubts that were still left about whether she had sexual intentions towards me quickly left when, as I was massaging up her flanks, she quickly turned without reason so the ends of my fingers would collide with one of her breasts. Even if she wasn't as confident as she would have liked to appear, she certainly had knowledge of what her body could do, and the subtle things that she could do to make me aroused. Any inhibitions I might have had earlier about not letting her feel an erection went away, and I stopped trying to keep my already swelling dick suppressed. I gave the appearance of being ignorant of her action, and continued moving my hands up her back. When I reached her shoulders again, I immediately noticed that they had relaxed, my guess confidence coming from the obvious hardness now slightly digging into her back.

I dug my fingers in a bit more, and began seriously manipulating the tight muscles in her shoulders and back. This produced obvious results. She snuggled up even closer to me, pressing my almost fully erect penis harder into her backside, and making it almost impossible for me to massage her with any real quality. The silence had long become awkward enough that my friend had pulled out a book, and was quite contentedly reading, oblivious to what was going on. I massaged the sides of her shoulders, down her arms, which were now resting comfortably on my knees, then again placed my hands on her sides. This time, I quite blatantly slid my hand over her stomach, then upwards, the top of my hand touched the bottom of one breast, my thumb running up the side I gently lifted, just to eliminate the small sliver of doubt left in my mind. In response she ground slight against my erection; hardly something that could be interpreted as a negative reaction. My friend remained just as oblivious. I, however, did not want to take the risk of getting caught by anyone else, so I moved my hand back to her shoulders and returned to gently massaging her again.

My timing, I guess, was rather perfect. The bell signaling the end of the period rang, producing that familiar irritating tone. Today, for once, I wouldn't be a lab mouse though. I removed my hands from her shoulders and she started standing up, just as my friend closed her book, and looked up.

Picking myself off the ground, I asked "I guess we'll have to finish this tomorrow?"

"Oh, I don't know... Got a 6th?" she responded.

"Actually I don't."

"Well, I happen to, but I've got no problems ditching it."

Imagine my excitement. I could see this turn of events was somewhat off-putting to my friend, but... well... I could patch things up with her later, right then I wanted me some sex.

We grabbed our stuff and started walking towards my friend's class. My friend suddenly turned towards the girl and posed a question that for some reason, it hadn't even occurred to me to ask: "I never caught your name?"

"It's Jade."

I met up with another friend of mine, greeted her, introduced her to Jade, then the four of us continued walking. As we neared the exit to school, I indicated it to Jade with a nod of my head, then said goodbye to my friends. As we were walking away, I heard one friend lean to the other and whisper in a girlish gossip voice, "Who was he with?"

We waited, looking occupied with something education-related for the guard at the gate to go do some administrative task, which probably meant running to the nearest faculty bathroom and jacking off about the attractive teenagers who had just flashed him their ID's, then left campus. On the long walk home, I talked with her of frivolous things, like how much we hated school, my trench coat, the skateboard now tucked under her arm, anything I could to mask the "I'm gonna get laid! I'm gonna get laid!" chanting through my head. Luck was on my side again, I realized: neither of my parents would be home for a good three hours.

Once we were inside the safety of my house, all pretenses were off. "Shall we continue where we left off, or skip straight to the sex?" I asked.

She spun around, bent forward and kissed me. At first, I was a little surprised by her forwardness, but soon I got over it and shoved my tongue down her throat. I brought my hands up to her face as I kissed her, somewhat more savagely than I hand originally thought it would. Some quality of her though, seemed to demand it. Then she abruptly cut off. I had enough control over myself to only hang for half a second.

"Well, as good as that was, I've got to keep up with appearances don't I? Besides, it seems you have some skill with your hands, and I'm not gonna let a chance like this get by; Why don't we start where we left off, but not spend too long there." Whatever hesitancy I had detected earlier was gone, and only boldness remained.

"Sounds good to me."

We put out stuff down, and then I escorted her to my room. Once we were inside, she didn't make any effort to hesitate or tease. The cub-scout shirt quickly dropped to the floor, followed by the white t-shirt that she shed immediately afterwards. I busied myself with removing my boots and socks, and placing my coat on a chair as I watched her discard her white sports bra, kick off her shoes, and step out of her baggy shorts. She stood with her back towards me, wearing nothing but a pair of white and surprisingly pink panties. I found my erection straining against my pants as I studied her smooth, tan back. The sides of her large breasts were visible from behind, and I was forced not to put up a considerable fight against groaning at the sight. She climbed onto my bed, showing me her profile long enough to afford me a glance at a darker brown nipple, which eliminated any question in my mind as to whether her skin tone was natural or not, and then lay down on her stomach. She suddenly looked even softer than before as she lifted an arm up and moved her thick hair away from her back, and turned her face towards me, her eyes closed. She then put her arms down, stretched above her head, and looked quite relaxed.

I paused long enough to admire the beauty on my bed, then climbed on as well, the bed creaking in protest of my added weight, and straddled her hips. I set to my task without delay, placed my hands at opposite sides of her head, placing my thumbs behind the lobes of her ears, my palms at the base of her skull and my fingers at the top of her neck, and turned her head so her face was down, her forehead imbedded in my pillow, giving her enough room to breath. I moved my hands and fingers in concurrent circles, simultaneously massaging her upper neck, jaw, and lower skull.

"Oooh... That feels good. I was right, you are good with your hands," came a muffled compliment.

"Give it some time, I'm just warming up."

As my hands gradually moved down her neck, I looked down at her bare back, and felt that every inch of her skin was begging to be worshiped. I certainly had no problem declaring it my god for a while. My hands reached her shoulders and I increased pressure, working the tight cords of muscle at the base of her neck. They quickly, in fact faster than I had expected, relented under my attention, allowing me to caress my hands down her shoulders, then up her arms to her hands. I interlaced my fingers with hers and tugged lightly, enough to work the small muscles, but not enough to indicate that I wanted her to raise them. I moved back down her arms, and then slid my hands to momentarily rest on her upper back.

She turned her head so her face was to the side again, and I could feel her steady, deep, breaths under my palms. I began moving again, working the abused muscles around her shoulder blades, then spreading my hands across her back, and dug deeply with my thumbs below her shoulder blades while brushing my hands against the sides of her breasts, thus eliminating the squinting that normally would have followed such vigorous manipulation of stubborn muscles. I kept my hands splayed as I moved downward, lightly massaging her sides while I worked along her spine with my thumbs. My hands were forced to come closer together when they were unable to wrap around her hips, and I curled my fingers under my hands, and dug my knuckles in at the tough lower back.

I then tucked my thumbs under just the top of her panty line, and added slight pressure, stimulating the nerves in what had been stupidly dubbed the "Bermuda triangle of love" by "experts," was known as the sacrum in scientific circles, and commonly seen on plumbers everywhere; but regardless of all that, it was none-the-less exceedingly effective, judging by the shiver that bordered on a convulsion that soon rippled up her body, and the moan of approval that escaped her lips. I grinned at that.

After some quick shifting, I was facing the other direction, looking down at her long, and for some reason, thought quite nicely, surprisingly feminine legs. I placed one hand on each leg, just below her underwear, and began massaging her sensitive inner thighs. More moans of approval told me that I'd have lots of fun, almost as much as she, if I ever gave her head. I continued massaging my way down her legs, finding little physically therapeutic reason to do so, but enjoying myself anyway, curled my hands again long enough to rub my knuckles against the always-neglected backs of her knees, before continuing down her calves. When I reached her ankles, I lifted one of her legs up and massaged what I could tell was a tired foot.

I moved my hands over the small foot, methodically pushing pressure points that would trigger the release of muscle-relaxing endorphins throughout her system, that would send nerve pulses directly to her crotch, causing her arousal to heighten, and most importantly, that would make more delightful pleasure-filled moans. I repeated with the other foot, eliciting more moans, and then quickly got off to stand at the side of the bed. I placed my hands just above her rear, and lightly stroked them up and down her back, hyper-sensitizing her skin. As soon as I lifted my hands from her back, she turned over.

I could do nothing but stand over her in barely controlled awe, staring at her big beautiful breasts. "Do they get your approval?" she jovially asked.

"I should say so."

With that it wasn't hard to convince myself to set to her. I ignored more groans of protest from my bedsprings and almost leaped onto my bed. I half-lay on top of her, one knee planted firmly at the base of her crotch, the other on the outside of her thigh. I brought my face down to one breast and let my hand rest on the other. My only regret was that I didn't have two mouths as I placed my only one over a brown nipple. I swirled my tongue around, tracing the very edge of the areola, then moved inward to run it over the hard nipple. A sharp intake of breath later, I sucked gently on it for a few seconds, before moving over to give similar treatment to her other breast. I kissed the top of that breast, and then moved to her mouth.

I kissed her with something of an urgent enthusiasm, and I guess she was pleased by this enough that when I paused for a second and lifted my head, she gave something between a small cheer and a giggle and pulled my mouth back to hers. I had been forced to remove my hand from her breast in order to pull myself to her mouth, but my other hand had remained on her stomach, just below her navel. Deciding it had been inactive long enough, I pushed my way underneath her panty-line, and discovered, much to my enjoyment, that she was pleasantly bare; further proof that sucking her cunt would be fun. I slowly stroked the silken skin, treasuring the soft feel of it, then wasted no more time in curling two fingers inside her.

Her head involuntarily tilted back, breaking the kiss, and giving me the invitation to start sucking her neck. I accepted and clamped my mouth at the top of her neck, her head tilting away to allow me better access. I could feel her pulse in my lips as I began gently, then more heartily, sucking and licking the smooth skin. I felt another moan buzz up her throat, and my dick throbbed at the delicious sound now so close to my ear. I started my fingers on small, barely detectable movements inside her, then gradually increased the distance they traveled along the roof of her vagina. With the intent to tease, I pulled my fingers out when I thought she was getting close to orgasm, moved my hand down, wedging it between my knee and her crotch, and shoved my thumb in as far as I could, then slid my middle finger up her firm ass to rest its tip at the sensitive entrance to her asshole. I made tiny circles with the tip of my finger, and barely moved my thumb, producing an extra-long moan. I then moved my hand back up; briefly dipped my ring finger inside her, causing another slight moan, then completely removed my hand from her underwear.

My moved my lips back to hers, bringing a slight pause to the attention below, then lifted my face away from her and looked down. I grabbed the top of her panties and pulled them away from her, revealing her glistening pussy. I took the opportunity to brush my hand against her inner thighs as I pulled her soaked underwear down as far as I could reach. She lifted one foot up and pinned them between her knees, then slid her luxurious legs out of them. After that, she decided to assert her dominance.

It was a bit of a trick as she moved from underneath me, causing me to balance precariously on the edge of my twin bed. A little bit more twisting, sliding, and shifting later, her supple naked form was on her knees above me. She smirked slyly at me, her light brown eyes gleaming with seduction, then reached forward and grabbed the back of my shirt, taking folds of it her hands, and pulled it over my head. She haphazardly tossed it aside, then moved her hands to my fly and made a major scene of undoing each button. My cock pushed forward, almost released of its imprisonment. She lightly rubbed one thumb up its length, causing it to involuntarily twitch and then wrapped her fingers around the top of my pants and underwear, and pulled down, setting my erection free.

She wrapped one slender hand around the base of it, and looked down at it, appraising it, before she once again leaned forward, her breasts slightly swaying, the ends of her hard nipples rubbing against my chest, and whispered in my ear: "Tell me when you're about to cum, okay?"

I nodded my consent to the person who had everything important to me at the moment literally in the palm of her hand, and then watched as she erected herself again, then, straightening my hard-on so it pointed up at her, she slowly lowered herself, first dragging the tip of my penis from the top of her wet slit, to the bottom, and then, taking her time, she impaled herself on me.

A groan rolled forth from deep within my throat at the glorious tightness of her pussy. When the look of ecstasy cleared from her face, she seductively smiled down at me with satisfaction. She leaned forward again, and lay on top of me, her massive chest smashing against mine, and started kissing me again, placing one arm around my head, and grabbing the shelf at the head of my bed for support with the other. She lifted her pelvis up, pushing her chest harder into mine, so pretty much only the head of my dick was inside of her, and then lowered her crotch again, moving down about half of my erection before going upward again. She kept up the same slow, systematic, movements, working wonders on me with her tight hole, causing my kissing to become almost completely absent-minded.

I caressed her smooth back, stroking my hands up the soft skin, finding delight in each sensual inch; every part of my body that didn't touch her, aching to relish in the distinct pleasure doing so offered. The picture began to come together, each individual part of the experience becoming part of a whole, feeling more and more natural with each passing second. My mouth returned to its previous vitality, perhaps even more passionate than earlier, and I began to feel that nothing in the world could possibly measure up to the rightness of this sexual embrace.

Then my conscious mind interfered. Thoughts of pleasing her suddenly became important again, and logic began leading those thoughts to conclusions. I knew that in most cases, girls as dominant as her, actually wanted to be dominated themselves, and decided to find out if it was so with her. I moved both my hands down to her firm ass, and pushed down with enough force to make her continue all the way down when she began doing so. I wrapped one arm around her back and lifted one knee between her thighs, and feeling that I had adequate leverage, holding her close, in one quick motion I was on top of her. I lifted my head away from hers and studied her face, which expressed pleasant surprise.

Interpreting that as all the encouragement I needed, I pulled out of her, and then removed my hand from underneath her rear to support me, and used my other arm to roll her on her side, then again to turn her over once more, and lift her torso up and back. She cried her approval of my slight manhandling of her, and brought her knees closer together, allowing mine to rest outside of them, and stretched her arms out in front of her to hold herself up. No longer having to hold her, my arms slid back to her waste, and I pulled her towards me, lifted my pelvis to meet her, and buried myself in her. Another cry of pleasure, differently, but no less satisfying than her moans, burst from her lips.

I moved my hand to the top of her cunt and quickly found her clit and began manipulating it with agile fingers as I began deep, strong, thrusts inside her. The first few hard thrusts caused various gasps, cries, and moans to resonate out, and then when the motion became smoother, a soft, short cry of joy.

The problem arose when the deep thrusts within her tight pussy affected me more than I had previously thought they would, and I could feel my orgasm coming sooner than I had predicted. Heat boiled inside me, and as climax became imminent, I notified her as she had asked: "I'm gonna..."

Without hesitation she pulled herself off of me and turned around, grabbed my throbbing erection with one hand and swallowed the head. She apparently had no qualms, even seemed to be taking some satisfaction from sucking her own juices off of me as she quickly took more of me into her mouth. I tried to hold on as long as I could, but when she began to ferociously suck on my dick, I couldn't resist any longer, and with warm snap in my spine, cum poured down her throat.

She spent a few minutes afterwards licking me clean, spending extra time swirling her tongue around the now painfully sensitive head of my penis, and then licked my fingers clean as well. Then, upon mutual silent consent, we began getting dressed. Guilt wracked me as I watched her put her clothes back on, her needs unattended. She never voiced any complaints however, and as I walked her to my door I informed her, "My parents are out of town for the weekend. Why don't you come over and I can make it up to you?"

She didn't respond, heightening my guilt even more, but then as I opened the door, she turned around and kissed me like she had when she had first entered my house, getting the same reaction from me as she had when she had first kissed me. She broke the kiss, and then with an ominous "See yah later..." she turned, jumped down my front porch, dropped her skateboard and rolled off down the street.

The following day there was no sight of her. When my friend asked what had happened after the girl and I had parted, I told her only that I had finished the massage, and would say no more on the subject. On Friday, the same: not one glimpse of her. My anxiety was now screaming in my head, cheering on my guilt. It all, however, proved to be for naught, when Jade showed up at my door at 8 pm that evening.

I certainly made it up to her, many times over in fact. Giving her head proved to be even more gratifying than I had anticipated earlier. We spent the whole evening together, naked and experimenting with the greatest of carnal pleasures. She fell asleep in my arms, close to dawn, and I woke up around noon, the only trace of her left in my house, her wonderful scent.

After that night I never touched her again, and only spoke to her once again when we both tried to comfort my friend after her troublesome boyfriend dumped her. Something seemed to require this silence between us, but I have never given up hope that she'll decide to indulge in me again.

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