first time in her married life, and she was really going to enjoy herself.
She said, 'I don't know about tonight, Marc. If we do come over, what will happen?'
'What do you want to happen, Diane?'
'Why, nothing especially.'
'Are you sure?'
'I don't know what you mean, Marc,' she said, knowing full well what he meant. She could feel her vagina begin to secrete droplets of fluid down between her legs as lewd thoughts traveled through her brain. In her mind's eye she saw Cord's huge prick again, saw it up close as she had seen Roger's last night, with its unseeing eye staring at her, drooling…
Cord's breathing came a little faster over the wire. 'Diane,' he whispered, 'Diane, I'd like to… to fuck you again. Like I did yesterday.'
She was silent for a long, dramatic moment. And then she said softly, 'Would you, Marc?'
'Yes, damn it!'
'Well, I'll have to think about it,' she breathed.
'Diane…'
'Good-bye, Marc,' she said, and hung up.
She stood there with her eyes closed, the juices of her desire soaking the thin, filmy material of her panties. God, talking to Marc had made her hot! She wanted him again, all right, and unless she was very much mistaken Roger wanted Cindy again, too. She knew what her husband would say when he came home from work and they discussed the Cords again; he would want to go back over to Peacock Gap tonight as much as she did.
Diane's cunt ached with a throbbing intensity now, as she once more thought about Marc Cord's fleshy pile- driving rod and muscled, bronzed body. She let her hands stray down the sides of her body, all the way to her thighs, and then pushed up the short hem of her housedress. She held it bunched at her waist with one hand, while the other moved with tantalizing slowness to explore the wet, sticky surface of her silk-encased vagina. She allowed one finger to slide inside the elastic leg band of her panties to touch the wet, palpitating folds of her petal-like cunt lips and then to slip inside the soft, warm slit with maddening slowness. Paroxysms of utter joy flooded her body as she stood there, manipulating her pussy and thinking about Marc Cord.
Damn, she could scarcely wait until tonight!
CHAPTER SIX
The evening breeze was cool and crisp, blowing through the car's open window to refresh Diane. She sat close to Roger, looking lovingly at him, and he smiled warmly back at her. She turned to peer into the night's darkness ahead, taking a hand to brush the silken strands of her blonde hair from her eyes. She felt nervous, but yet tantalizingly exited, for tonight was an important one to her. Yes, and to Roger as well.
Last night, with Marc and then her husband later, had been the beginning, the turning point in her otherwise fruitless existence. At last she felt the emergence of the real woman who had been so long buried beneath the layers of false modesty and Victorian prudery. She was no longer her mother's daughter — she was full, rich, red- blooded, alive.
But tonight was still another major step for her, and as Roger neared the Peacock Gap house of Marc and Cindy Cord, she realized that by accepting the dinner invitation, she was going to lose the last vestiges of her inhibitions and become devoured in the enveloping warmth of lust for the sake of lust alone. Tonight she was going to actively, openly participate in group sex; there was no denying it. She was going to exchange mates, to be yet another convert to the cult of wife-swapping. Wife-swapping: a horrid, indecent, disgusting word which brought lip curls of contempt from the lips of decent people. Wife-swapping. She mouthed the word, letting it roll around on her tongue like a bittersweet candy. It was exciting, and brought a delicious tingle to Diane as she mulled over what this evening was to bring. Yes, yes, tonight would bring Marc Cord and his overwhelming, lovely cock and his masterful ways of love-making. Yes, she wanted Marc, she wanted to be swapped for him, she wanted him to fuck her… lubricating fluids began to seep from her soft, warm vagina and she pressed her legs together, not wanting to make her excitement obvious to Roger.
'Diane,' Roger suddenly said, 'Diane… I love you.'
She turned away from the window and stared at her husband. 'I know you do, darling,' she replied softly, 'And I love you, too.'
'I–I want you to know that before… well, before we get involved tonight.' He seemed to swallow a lump in his throat. 'I don't want you to misunderstand if… if… well, you know.'
Diane smiled understandingly. 'I know,' she said. 'And you won't make me have a double standard, I know that, too.'
Roger was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. 'If that's how it's got to be for you to become a woman, to respond sexually to me, then so be it.' He smiled at her and winked. 'After last night I can say that my wife possesses more hidden talent in bed than any other woman I've ever known.'
'Or will know?' Diane, suddenly flooded with desire and affection, nestled her hand on his inner thigh.
'Or… will know.'
Diane began to stroke his thigh in light, caressing motions. A moan of pleasure escaped from deep within Roger's chest and he stared down at her polished fingernails and the path they traced on his trousers. Diane edged farther along his inner thigh, and he spread his legs slightly to allow her access to his crotch. She smiled, a sudden rush of prurient sensation rippling through her.
'Oh God, baby, you drive me wild!' Roger groaned, involuntarily jerking forward so that she touched the already rigid outline of his penis. 'Oh, Jesus, I wish you'd always been like this.'
'Don't worry, darling. From now on I will be.' Diane stroked his swelling cock through the pants, feeling the long, turgid shank expand and press against the binding cloth. She rubbed harder, as though she were trying to polish it, and Roger panted excitedly. 'I'm going to crash the car, for Christ's sake, if you don't stop!'
'You want me to stop?'
'No, no, don't stop!'
Diane fumbled with his zipper and slowly lowered it, then reached in and tugged the band of his shorts, insinuating her fingers inside. His flesh was hot, his pubic hair like coarse sandpaper, his rod eagerly awaiting the touch of her fingertips. It jumped convulsively when she scratched the bulbous head with one long nail. Diane almost couldn't believe such a wanton action… it was so unlike her previous self. To be feeling Roger's cock in a car! Why… last week, she hated the very sight of it in the bedroom, much besides reveling at its touch.
'You'd better zip me up, Diane,' Roger advised, 'We're almost at the Cords'.'
But she played with him teasingly until they were on the macadam driveway, and she laughed as he made a bumbling attempt to zip himself closed before opening the car door.
Marc and Cindy were waiting at the open front door. There were the usual greetings, but as the door closed Marc suddenly took hold of Diane and pressed her close to him. In full view of his wife and her husband, he kissed Diane passionately, the way a lover kisses his mistress. There was no question in anybody's mind after that what the evening's entertainment would consist of — if indeed there had been any to begin with.
The dinner, served after two rounds of drinks, was delectable. Cindy was a marvelous cook, and had worked hard to be the gracious hostess, serving hors d'oeuvres, with the drinks, and then shrimp cocktails, Caesar salad, and the main course of rock Cornish game hen, roasted plain in the fashionable way, wild rice, brussels sprouts and cauliflower rosettes.
The dessert of cheese and fruit was served buffet style in the living room. Marc excused himself only to return a few moments later with four glasses of a chilled magnum of Mumm's champagne.
'What's that for?' Diane asked.
'A celebration,' Cord said jovially, unwrapping the foil crown and pressing the cork with his thumb. 'A celebration of your husband's promotion to General Office Manager of my section of Waller, Waller, Crist, and Maxwell — as of Monday.'
'Oh, that's wonderful!' Diane squealed — just as the cork popped and shot across the room.
