"You write dirty stories?" Melissa asked me, sounding slightly uneasy.
"Erotic," I corrected her.
"Whatever," she said.
The four of us sat around our patio table under the big umbrella, drinking Mojitos and munching on melon, salsa and chips. It was a Saturday afternoon in late June, warm but not uncomfortably hot. The weekend before, Melissa had manipulated her husband, Mike, into a swap session with my wife, Stacy. It had been Stacy's idea that I craft an erotic story about the events from our viewpoint. Mike was reading the draft on my laptop as Melissa engaged in her interrogation of me.
"Most of them are just our fantasies," Stacy volunteered.
"I didn't know you could write," Melissa observed to me.
"Well, there's some difference of opinion on that front," I chuckled. "I occasionally get feedback indicating that I can't write worth a damn."
"Hm," Melissa huffed briefly. "Why? Why do you do it?"
I shrugged. "It's fun to let my imagination run amok and come up with situations I find sexy and exciting."
"Lot's of them are very sexy and exciting," Stacy chipped in. "I get really turned on reading them."
"Oh, yeah!" Mike blurted out as he read.
I looked at Stacy and grinned.
"Tell us," Stacy demanded.
"Uhm," Mike mumbled, flicking up the page, trying to decide where to start. "Okay. Here it is.
'Stacy's eyes met mine, though it took her a second to recognize me through her passion. "Oh, Steven," she moaned. "Please, can I fuck him now? Please say I can fuck him now. I need him to fuck me."
"Of course, baby," I whispered back to her. "I'm here now. You can fuck him."
"Oh, geez, baby," Stacy moaned to Mike, her hands pulling his head away from her. "Come on up here and fuck me. I need to feel your cock inside me."'
"Holy crap, that is hot!" he finished.
"You wrote that?" Melissa asked me.
"I guess so," I told her.
"Isn't that excellent?" Stacy said, nearly bouncing in her chair.
"I still don't get it," Melissa said.
"Look," I told her, "this kind of stuff may not be for everyone. But, don't you sometimes have fantasies? Thoughts roll through your head about things you like to try or something you'd like to have happen to you. I just write them down so I can share them with Stacy. The whole idea is to stoke up the libido, that's all. Some people prefer to watch porno movies. I like reading and writing stories."
"Why don't you just do it?" Melissa asked.
I laughed aloud. "Because, honey, other people are involved. Maybe they don't want to actually do it. Maybe they just like imagining it. I mean, suppose every guy who'd like to screw you or Stacy just showed up at the door wanting a piece of tail. I bet that would make you pretty uncomfortable."
"Do you write about other people?" Melissa wanted to know.
"Sometime," I nodded. "Mostly, though, they're just imaginary."
"Just fucking incredible," Mike said, passing the laptop back to Stacy. "It gave me a woody. What do you say, Stacy. You want to give me some relief?"
"Later," Stacy grinned at him. "Let your wife read it, first."
Melissa took the laptop Stacy pushed toward her across the table. The dark-haired vixen picked it up and began reading.
"I liked that part at the end," Mike said, reaching over to stroke Stacy's bare shoulder. "You know..."
"Shush!" Stacy ordered. "Don't ruin it for her."
We sat quietly sipping and munching as Melissa read carefully through the story. It took her about five minutes. When she was finished, she looked at me over the top of the screen.
"Your wife thinks I'm a slut?" she said.
"Uh, no," I responded feeling defensive. "She said you behaved like one with me. You'll notice that I liked it, too."
"You didn't say a lot about you and me," she noted.
"That's because the general subject of all my stories is Stacy, what she does, says, and how she behaves. If you want me to write about you, then you're going to have to tell me how you feel, what you're thinking, and what your reactions are," I told her. I looked toward Stacy. "I'd love to do a series about you, though, if you'd like. But, you're going to have to share intimate details with me."
"Oh, that's a great idea!" Stacy exclaimed. "I'd love to read the chronicles of Melissa, wouldn't you, Mike?"
"That would be awesome," Mike said. "The intimate inside story of Melissa as related to her fuck-buddy, Steve."
Melissa flushed. I jumped in to try to relieve some of her embarrassment.
"You probably noticed that Stacy is very vocal," I began. "She generally blurts out whatever she's feeling. You, on the other hand, are more reserved. In order to know your reactions and impressions, you'll have to share them with me. Not with the whole world, like Stacy does, but just to me."
"So, I should tell you that your story made me hot and horny and I'd like to fuck you right now?" Melissa said contentiously.
"If that's what you're feeling," I chuckled. "You saw in the story where I included the part where you told me you wanted my cock inside you? That's the kind of information I need."
"So, you want to write stories about me and how I feel when I fuck you?" Melissa offered.
"Me, Mike, and anybody else you want to include," I joked.
"Let's just start with you," she grinned self-consciously. "How do we start?"
"Just tell me about this morning," I suggested. "What were you thinking when you decided we should get together."
Melissa looked at me strangely. She nodded her head at Mike and Stacy. "In front of them?"
"No, of course not, if you're not comfortable," I said. I turned toward Stacy. "You two want to go inside and fuck while Melissa and I have our chat?"
Stacy grinned broadly. She reached out her hand to Mike. "Come on," she said, standing up and pulling him with her. "Let's go take care of your hard on."
"Well, it's gone down now," Mike protested.
"Not to worry, darling," Stacy told him. "I think I can get it back for you."
Mike grinned at me as the two of them disappeared through the French doors leading to the house with much giggling and grabbing. I turned back to Melissa.
"Okay," I said. "Tell me your deepest thoughts and emotions."
"I've been thinking about last Saturday all week," she began. "Mike and I have been fucking every night and every morning since then. We always liked sex. But, somehow, there's been an added spark to it since Saturday. I've wanted a cock inside me constantly since then. I liked the way it felt when you fucked me. Each time since then it was almost a repeat of the times we were together. It's been great, but it wasn't the same. So, today, well Friday, actually, I thought we should try to get back together so we could do it again. I asked Mike, and he was enthusiastic. So, I called Stacy and suggested we get together today."
I nodded and smiled at her. "Just so you know, the same thing has been happening at our place. Stacy has just been a dynamo since Saturday. She's been quite open about how much she enjoyed being with Mike and couldn't wait for another opportunity."
"So, I'm not the only slut in the bunch," she grinned at me.
"You know, Melissa, just because you like the sex doesn't make you a slut. It just means you're vibrant and alive. I like it, and I'll bet Michael does, too."
"The way I grew up," she said, "the girls who liked to fuck were sluts."
"The way I grew up," I answered, "the girls who liked to fuck were angels."
Melissa laughed. "That is such a man-perspective," she said.
"So," I continued, "tell me about your feelings this morning. Did you and Michael have sex this morning?"
"Of course," she said, scoffing.
"Tell me about it," I probed.
"I reminded Michael he needed to get ice and the makings for the drinks while we were lying in bed. We've been sleeping in the nude since Saturday. I could see he had a woody. I told him he was ready to plow Stacy's furrow. He said he would be later but that he wanted to fuck me first. So, I just climbed over him and sat on his cock."
"And how did that feel?"
Melissa pondered for a few seconds. "I like the feeling of having him inside. It just fills me up. So, I sat there for a while just enjoying the feeling of him being there. Then he said he wanted to do it from behind."
"And you like that, him being behind you and plunging his cock into you?"
"That's one my favorites. You should know that. We did that last Saturday."
"I remember. I just wanted to know if you liked it."
"I do. So, I got off him and knelt on the bed. He stood up and put himself right at the entrance. Then, all of a sudden, he pushed it all the way in. It made me gasp, it felt so good."
"Did you come?"
"After a little bit. He held onto my hips and just pumped himself into me time after time. It felt great!"
"And, when you came, did you moan or cry out?"
"I...no, I don't think so."
"Did you want to?"
"I did, kind of. But, I never have. I always kept it inside, you know? Nice girls don't let on they're coming."
"There's another fallacy we're going to have to deal with. Nice girls do make noise when they come. Some moan, some cry. Stacy hollers. It's okay to do that."
"I never have," Melissa said.
"That's too bad," I told her. "A man loves to hear the woman he's with have an orgasm. It tells him she's enjoying the fuck. So, I take it Michael came inside you?" I continued.
"Yes. He pulled my hips to his and pumped all his goo inside me."
"And, tell me how you felt afterwards."
"Good," Melissa said. "I felt pretty good. But, it didn't last very long."
"Was that because you were looking forward to us coming over?"
"I guess it was. I had this thrill. My heart was pounding and I felt this knot in my belly all morning as we got ready. I kept thinking how nice you felt inside me. I kind of planned to do a little more exploring with you, too. I want to look at your cock. I want to kiss it, and feel it in my hands and even in my mouth."
I felt the stirrings in my loins. "That's nice to hear," I said.
"Every time I thought about that, I'd get this little rush of excitement running through me."
"Stacy told me about you sucking on Mike's cock and then rubbing it across her breasts. She said that was very exciting."
"I saw that in your story," Melissa said.
"The idea of you kissing and sucking my cock is making me hard," I informed her.
"Can I see?" she asked.
"Of course," I answered, standing up and dropping my shorts to my ankles. My semi-turgid cock bounced in front of me. "There you go," I said. "You can touch it or do whatever else. But, you have to tell me what you're thinking when you do it."
"Okay," Melissa said softly, reaching out to brush her fingers on my meat.
