Location Swap

CHAPTER ONE There was hunger in the gray eyes that looked back from the mirror. At thirty-three, there were few chances left to him. He rubbed the slight bulge around his middle, then scratched the brown thatch below. "That's not the limp flab that needs hardening," he grunted as the flaccid tube of his p***s swelled under the mild stimulation. But he felt the pleasured tingle as the organ became filled with hot blood. "Speak for yourself, lover," cooed a soft voice. from the doorway. Morton whirled, his rampant c**k-freed from his grasp-slapping solidly against his thigh. It sprang out like a vibrating arrow, pointing at the lovely blonde. "Now why would you want that thing hard?" he teased. "Didn't you tell me we'd have to curtail our fun a little until we got adjusted to this six-thousand-foot altitude?" "A little, Morty," she replied, her moist, full lips pouting enticingly. "But not altogether." She moved into the motel bedroom from the bathroom where she had been readying herself for a much-needed night's sleep. She knelt quickly on the carpet and slipped her hands behind his hairy buttocks, making them tense and harden under her gentle fingers. Her lips touched his belly. "June, baby!" he gasped as her kiss moistened the hard length of c**k from base to purple head. Then her tongue flicked at the tight opening and she sucked the fat head into her mouth. Morton groaned appreciatively and his hands caressed her soft blonde tresses. His fingers traced the delicate outlines of her ears and her soft warm throat. June sucked voraciously, swirling her hot tongue around the quivering shank, nibbling the swollen crown, and rolling and squeezing the tightly drawn scrotum. Mort's breathing was much too labored for the early stages of arousal, he realized. He pulled her head firmly but gently away from his groin. "I'm puffing... already, baby," he panted. "We'd better lie down and... approach this slowly if you... want it to last." "Oh, yes, let's make it last," she agreed, pulling herself to her feet by tugging on his legs, buttocks and hips. They moved the few steps to the queen-size bed and Morton sank down on it. "No, not on the spread, Morty," she cried. "What's wrong with the spread?" "We don't know when it was washed last," she told him. "The sheets will be clean, hopefully. Come on, get up, Morty." He gave a reluctant grunt and struggled to his feet, massaging his erection to maintain its rigidity while she peeled back the covers and exposed the white sheets. Then he plopped across the expanse of percale and waved his c**k at her. June shrieked playfully and launched herself in an arc over him. Morton grinned and rolled toward the headboard, and she landed beside him with a" giggly bounce. He was up and on his knees before she recovered. He grasped her legs and forced them apart. His hand slithered to her crotch and fingered through the blonde bush into the wet slit. "No fair!" she squealed. "It's not your turn yet!" She shook her quivering buttocks at him and tried to turn over, but he held her tightly to the bed. When he had two fingers deep in her slippery v****a, he vibrated them teasingly, working them in little circles until she moaned and gasped with pleasure. He rolled her on her back and buried his face in her glistening golden bush, nibbling and tonguing the puffy labia. He licked upward until he found the rigid little fingerling of her c******s. She gasped as he pressed his hps around it and milked it tenderly. "Morty! Oh, Morty!" June's arms flailed the bed as he feasted on the pungent juices that flowed generously from her. His hands stroked her buttocks and he fingered the warm cleft that separated them, titillating the sensitive nerves and starting a shivering tremor that rippled her alabaster skin. "Oh, it's so good!" she cried. "Don't stop, Morty!" He tried to note the exact pressure and rhythm at the moment she spoke so he could keep her climbing the exciting path at the same rate of ascent. He felt the tension build in her thigh muscles and buttocks and knew she was almost over the top. When her back arched, lifting her off the bed, he squeezed her ass and glued his mouth to the flowing goodness of her cunt. She began to writhe and rotate her hips as the full impact of orgasm burst upon her. Morton rode out the storm and, when her buttocks again touched the bed, he was still licking and sucking the tender flesh. "Enough!" she cried out, bunching up the bedclothes in her desperate grasp until both her hands were full of wrinkled fabric. Morton gave the swollen bud of her fully exposed c******s another quick, gentle lick, then blew on it. He sat crosslegged on the bed beside her and watched the joyful sight of her contentment and the always amazing phenomenon of the afterglow that suffused her flesh after she had reached her goal. Her skin seemed to have an inner illumination as the thousands of tiny capillaries filled with the warmth of swiftly circulating blood. Her thighs were still squeezing together as if they yet held his head trapped between them. He wanted to see her cunt as it pulsed to a gradual rest, so he parted her legs and spread the swollen lips with his thumbs. The dark orange-pink hole quivered at him, winking as it spasmed in slowly clutching action as if seeking to grasp his missing c**k. The pulsations became ever slower and further apart in time as he watched. When it seemed that no more action would occur, he made a wild cry and crawled between her thighs. "Morty, you come back here," she said querulously. "You took my lollipop away before I finished it!" But he was hypnotized by the weird beauty of her clutching vulva. Few men enjoyed having their c***s mouthed to the final point of ejaculation like Morton. But now he could not be deterred from his goal, even by the thought of June's lovingly expert technique as an artist of fellatio. He grabbed one of the pillows and stuffed it under her ass while holding her buttocks off the bed by lifting her knees. When her pelvis was tilted upward, he pulled her legs apart once more and pressed toward her. With her thighs so widely spread and her pubic mound canted enticingly toward him, the blonde bush glistened even more wetly in the light of the bedside lamp. It was moistened with her womanly juices and Morton's saliva in a slow-drying varnish that made bright diamond highlights in the woven-gold hairs. Morton's erection pulsed achingly as it poised over the gleaming golden forest and the glistening gash. He grabbed the shaft and guided it to aim the purpling head at the purple-orange flesh of her cave, then pressed it between the soft, oiled petals and shoved forward. "Ooohh!" June breathed happily. "Bury it in me, Morty!" He slowed his initial thrust and began a spiral movement that made the head of his c**k nose against as much of her soft vaginal walls as possible. He loved to "taste" the tender depths of her cunt when they were flooded with love oils, imagining the delicious female flavor of the areas his tongue could not reach. "Wh-what are you... doing, Morty?" she asked, knowing full well his voluptuous technique, loving it because it felt exciting. But she also enjoyed hearing him tell her about it. "I'm tasting the... sweetness of your... wonderful cunny, doll," he panted. "God! it's so... so unbelievably delicious!" He continued to corkscrew into her with the winding, wiping head of his prick, smearing the swollen tip over every millimeter of the slippery tissue that lined her passage. "Oh, Morty, I'm... so glad I taste good to you... 'cause your c**k feels so... sweet when it... kisses me all over... inside like that!" Her cunt muscles clasped him tightly as she uttered her last phrase. The clutching action added to the already mounting stimulus of the joyful contact and the goading excitement of her words. "Junie! Oh, God!" He fought to control himself, panic rising as he realized he had not yet even struck bottom. He thrust home desperately and felt the tip of his c**k press against the fleshy little donut of her cervix. The suddenness of his final shove and the stimulation of that deep touch started June up the crazy escalator toward her peak. The little port of her womb gave a convulsive tightening and loosening that created a sucking kiss on the end of his c**k. It was more than he could withstand. "Quick, Junie!" he cried in his desperation. "Come with me!" She was well on her way up the spiraling ramp of climax, but she knew she could not climb fast enough to catch him. It caused her to feel a momentary disappointment in the midst of her mounting joy, but as Morton screwed swiftly and desperately in and out of her now spasming v****a, he set off other triggering mechanisms that speeded her flight. "Yes! I'm... coming, darling!... com-m-m-MING!" Her hips had taken up a counter-movement that met his thrusts hungrily; now she drove shudderingly, erratically upward and stayed there, arching her back as she was torn by the first throes of her orgasm. Her position tilted her cunt to receive his outpouring as he spewed his hot fluid seed into her depths. Each pulsing spurt brought a clamping reaction from the juicy glove of her passage and its folds closed and opened around his c**k, milking him voraciously as he achingly spit his final drops against the soaked velvet surrounding his gratified prick. They cried out their victory in a duet of glory, then sighed as total exhaustion claimed them. Morton rolled off and fell away from her, his syrupy c**k trailing a sticky smear over her thigh and hip, then splatting limply against his own thighs and leaking its ooze on his skin and the sheets below. "Mmm-m-m," June hummed her contentment as she stretched and yawned healthily as she relaxed every muscle of her body. A faint pulsing still showed around her neck and temples, and the swelling of passion had not yet completely disappeared from around her eyes and mouth. But she was at that pinnacle of well-being which makes j a woman complete. Their breathing was still heavy and panting, though June's had returned nearer to normal than Morton's. He felt the greatest exhaustion he had ever experienced, and wanted only to sleep. The intensity of the sensation frightened him and he wondered if a man could get a heart attack having this much s****l exercise at an altitude so much higher than he was used to. "That was beautiful, Morty," June sighed. "I'll have another order of the same in the morning, if you don't mind." She lay with her eyes closed and a beatific smile on her face. Morton watched the rise and fall of her creamy breasts, appreciating the slight quivers that shook the orange-pink buttons of her n*****s. There was a silence as he contemplated these lovelies, regretting the haste that had caused him to omit them from the foreplay. He knew it would be fun to start with them in the morning and work into things more slowly. But again he thought about the altitude and his extreme fatigue. "Do you think too much s*x could cause a heart attack?" he asked. "As you've often said: 'What a way to go!' " June replied without opening her eyes. Her peaceful smile had become an elfin grin. "No, I'm serious," he protested. "I'm damn near tired enough to pass out!" June's eyes opened and her head turned to give her a better look at his face. He wore a worried expression. "Let's not tempt fate, then," she told him. "We just had a lovely helping; we'll make it last for a while. After all, we're going to be on location here for quite a long time, and we're bound to get acclimated after a bit." "I hope so. By the way, has Burt mentioned the pirate script lately?" Morton had held his eagerness in check for a long time, but now he could not contain his anxiety. If Burton Chadwick still intended to give him the lead in that colorful sea-dog epic, there was hope for his career yet, despite his lengthy series of second leads these past two years. And if a guy couldn't ask his own wife for information she picked up as secretary-aide to a top director-especially when it could mean her husband's career-well... "No, darling. Not since that thing last week. But that in itself shows he intends to shoot. The producer wouldn't have sent a memo advising Burt of the availability of those ships if there were any doubts." "Sure. But what bothers me is that he hasn't said anything to me about it for so long. And he acted rather funny when he told me he wanted me for that north woods thing, too. I got the impression he really didn't need me all that bad to play a lumberjack. It was as if he might be tossing me a bone here and there because he's already decided against me for the lead in the sea story." "Oh, no, Morty. He's not like that. I wish you could take my word for it when I keep telling you that you can count on the part. He's never gone back on a promise in the three years I've worked with him." "You're probably right, Junie. But I can't help being edgy about something so important to my career when I've been waiting this long for some official news direct from him." "He does have a lot on his mind, Morton," June defended, as if she had heard enough of her husband's petulant impatience and wanted to cool him off. He thought about it for a few minutes, and it reminded him of two other things. "I do remember his one bit of official news lately. He suggested I peel off a few pounds and inches for the lumberjack role coming up next. And it wouldn't hurt to let him see me pretty trim and wiry around here while we're on location. It might make him think more positively about me as a pirate leader." "I'll help you with that, Morty. It's partly my fault you put on those two inches you lost earlier in the year. I'll stop giving you such big servings when we eat at home, and I'll cut down on the starches and stuff." "I'd appreciate it, doll," he said. "But that's not why I brought up the subject. I really had in mind something that relates more to your temptations than mine." "What do you mean?" June had a truly puzzled expression in her eyes and her moist lips opened as if in surprise. "Well... you remember what we were discussing night before last?" "Night before last? We talked about a lot of things while we were getting ready to head up here. Which do you mean?" "About our s*x life. I mean the part about variety making it better for some couples. We talked about how seldom we both made it really great at the same time because one of us was too tired or something. And how maybe we ought to go along with Nature... like if the urge and the opportunity coincide, but we're with other people, well... " "The swapping thing, you mean. I don't know, Morty. Like I told you that night, I won't deny that on rare occasions I've had a wet p***y watching some other man do something or dancing with a particularly virile type. Just as you get a hard on because of some other female. But I don't know about deliberately having s*x in cases like that. And anyway, what's it got to do with your diet?" "I was thinking about using all the time and energy I have up here to get in shape, because that's pretty important. And after the way this one session has knocked me out, I don't think I'd better plan on many more while I'm trying to shrink my waistline. But I know you'll have plenty of opportunities, and I hate to see you tense and unsatisfied just because I'm not up to it." "Oh, Morty. I'm not all that horny, am I? Really?" "You're not abnormal, if that's what you're asking me. But you are a healthy gal with healthy female appetites. And I'm only saying that I don't expect to have a lot of excess energy up here. By the time I work out to lose weight, do what's required of me for the day's shooting, and study my lines for the next day, I won't be worth a hoot in bed." "I don't want a hoot in bed," June kidded, rolling over to put her arms around him. She kissed him tenderly. "I want you, and you're no owl, Morton Benedict." "Maybe not," he admitted, and kissed her on the eyes, neck and ears. "But I'm wise enough to know that a little s*x play in someone else's sack won't damage our love, and it might keep you in a much better frame of mind until I'm up to taking care of you the way I should. So promise me that if the situation arises, you won't be the long-suffering martyr. If you need it, take it." "All right, darling. If I need it, I'll take it. Now will you shut up about it and snuggle me a little closer? It gets cool all of a sudden up here in the mountains." "Had you thought of getting under the covers?" Morton asked laughingly. June giggled and the two of them tried to maneuver their legs under the partially turned-down bedclothes without getting up. By the time they made it, Morton was huffing and puffing again in an effort to suck in oxygen. They cuddled up and lay still, but each was occupied with too many thoughts to sleep immediately. Morton was thinking about the altitude as he puffed his way back to normal breathing. He had always lived by the seaside, both in his boyhood in New England and his last twelve years in California. And he knew that he should have taken all or part of the many opportunities he had passed up to weekend or vacation in the mountains. He had read someplace that the older you get the harder it is to adjust to changes in atmospheric pressure. The astronauts had to be exceptionally flexible in this respect. So did the Olympic athletes, particularly those who competed in high places like the 1968 contenders. Mexico City was almost as high as Running Springs, where Morton now tried to breathe normally after one piece of ass. What would he do if he were a few pounds heavier, a few years older, under these conditions? He decided that he would begin training first thing in the morning. Once the decision was made and he knew he was serious about it, he felt relaxed. Suddenly he realized the effort he had been expending just to breathe had become unnecessary. He wondered, as sleep claimed him, if part of his problem was psychological. It seemed to him that he had read somewhere that... June felt cozy, nestled against her husband's body and inhaling the freshness of the cool mountain air that streamed in the window and across the bed. She always felt cozy when she was freshly completed sexually. But tonight she felt a strange confidence in her situation that made her feel cozier than ever. Was it the knowledge that her husband loved her so much he was more concerned with her well being than with his own legal rights of possession as her spouse? Or was it the unfettered freedom she now felt subconsciously? Morton had removed any fetters she may have worn to restrain her s****l impulses around others. She began to think about the members of the company that were to share the coming weeks with them in the San Bernardino Mountains. There was Gurney Adams, first of all. And for most women that would be enough. Unlike Morton, who had several years of stage experience before he had hit the Hollywood trail, Gurney had done a few bits on television, then hit it lucky in two series of his own. The lanky, likable star made two pictures a year and commanded a salary higher than many capable, hardworking actors who had come up the tough way. But June could not begrudge Gurney Adams anything. Gurney was the type of. guy few women could deny. She was not sure but what she would... She forced herself to stop thinking about him when she felt the dampness between her thighs increase. It would be better if she turned her mind to less exciting men. Like Burton Chadwick, the British director she had worked for and with these last three years. Of course Burt had made a pass at her once. And when she had parried his initial thrust, he had closed the door on that part of their relationship. Closed it but not locked it. "June," he had said to her from behind his desk where he had retreated after her rebuff, "I won't ever make another pass at you. I want you on the staff, need you. I refuse to endanger your efficiency or your value to me as a staff member by being a nuisance as a lecherous old man. But one thing you should know about me; If I make a pass, it's because a woman means something to me, and the passage of time never alters that. So if you ever feel differently, try to let me know. But you'll have to be the one who opens the door after this. Now, what were we talking about? Oh, yes, the accommodations for the Lisbon trip. Sorry you won't be sharing them with me. Guess I'll have to be the tourist over there; I can't stand any of the females in my cast." June turned slightly in the bed and felt Morton's arm slip off to flop beside them. She rearranged her pillow and inhaled a last deep breath of the clean air that filled the room. Why was it that up here where there were no impurities like the smog-filled atmosphere of the Los Angeles area, it was more difficult to breathe than where the lungs were asked to filter all of that junk? She was still puzzling over this paradox when she thought she heard herself start to snore...