Anne unbuttoned her blouse slowly, afraid to look at me. It reminded me more of a doctor's office visit than a wife swap.
"Do you want me to help you?" I asked.
She smiled nervously. "I guess so."
She dropped her hands to her sides and watched while I undid the last couple of buttons. Her blouse fell open, revealing a cream colored bra with a small lace border across the top. Her skin was porcelain-white, which made it seem even more forbidden when I lifted the blouse carefully off her delicate shoulders.
We were sitting on the bed at a Clarion Inn out on the interstate. My wife Becky and Anne's husband Biff were in the room next door, presumably doing the same thing. It was my wife's idea -- well, hers and Biff's. I wasn't exactly thrilled at the thought of handing Becky over to some ham-fisted muscle-bound redneck, but his wife Anne is so alluring, in that innocent girl-next-door sort of way, I couldn't resist the offer.
"Your turn,' she said shyly, looking like a Sears catalog model in her generic white bra. I pulled my T-shirt over my head. "Nice," she said, running her hand across my chest. My chest isn't really all that nice, at least compared to Biff's muscle-man physique, but the fact that I'm not covered with bear hair may have been a welcome change of pace for Anne.
We heard the thump of music next door, and it helped to break the tension. "At least it's not country music," Anne chuckled, touching on one of the many little sore spots in her and Biff's marriage. But don't all marriages have sore spots? Little areas where, no matter who compromises, someone ends up getting the shaft? It made me realize that my wife and I really had it pretty good; no big arguments, no conflicting goals or lifestyle hang ups. No wonder Biff and Anne wanted to try the swap. They needed a break from the unbearable reality of being married to each other.
"Do you want me to put on the music video channel?" I asked, feeling a little awkward.
"No, I'm good," she said, sitting there in her white bra and khaki shorts, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She turned her back so I could unclip her bra. I slid the straps off her shoulders. Facing me again, she stared wide-eyed as her bra fluttered into her lap. I took in the beauty of her small white breasts, like those of a teenager who hasn't yet made it to womanhood.
"They're not as nice as your wife's," she said, staring down at her chest.
"They're lovely," I said, reaching out my hand to touch her. She flinched when my fingers found the soft innocence of her flesh. Touching her reminded me of my first girlfriend, all those years ago, in my bedroom when my folks were out. "Do you want me suck your nipples?"
"Sure," she said, "I'd like that."
She lay back on the bed and I settled down next to her, resting my arm on her waist. I took a small pink nipple in my mouth and felt it stiffen between my teeth.
"Oh my," she gasped, "that's nice."
I scooted a little lower and let my knee nestle up between her legs. Then I moved to the other tit, keeping the first one occupied with my fingers. Slowly, her legs opened, till my thigh was gently nudging her mound. "Do you think we should get a little more undressed?" I asked, letting her slimy nipple pop from my mouth.
"I guess so," she said, pulling away from me so she could sit up.
"Let me do it," I said, sliding my hand down her tummy to the waistband of her bermuda shorts. She watched me while I undid the zipper, and then she raised her butt so I could slide the shorts down her white legs. Her shorts snagged the edge of her white panties, but she grabbed them, preferring to keep them on for the time being, even though I could see outline of her dark bush under the white cotton panel.
"I guess I'll take off my pants now," I said, hoping she'd volunteer to help. She just lay there, her arms crossed over her breasts, looking a little scared, so I eased my jeans down. I was already hard.
"Do you want to cum on my tits?" she asked.
"Sure," I said, climbing up on the bed and straddling her. She just lay there looking at me, so I gently took her hands and guided them to the waistband of my shorts. She edged them down carefully, since the head of my cock was snagged at the top. Finally, it popped out, and she let out a little gasp.
"Cool," she said, as she fished my cock free. She squeezed it a couple of times, and I realized I really should be naked for this.
"Give me a second" I said as I hopped off the bed and stepped out of my jeans and shorts. Then I straddled her again, my dick pointing at the wall above her head. She slid her hands up and wrapped her fingers around the base. Her touch was tentative, delicate, which only added to the tension. She cupped my balls. My dick twitched, seeming to get even bigger.
"Do you want me to spit on it?" she asked.
"Sure," I said, wishing she'd offered to put it in her mouth instead, but she was setting the rules. That was one of the things we had agreed upon before the swap. Whatever the lady says, goes. We'd also agreed that we wouldn't need to use condoms, since we were both monogamous couples using birth control, and there would be no need to worry about STD's or kids.
I watched as she spit a big glob of saliva into her palm and then slathered it onto the tip of my dick. "Oh God Anne, that's perfect," I moaned, as she went to work swirling her hand up and down my slimy cock. With her eyebrows scrunched in concentration, she looked so earnest, do dedicated to her task, it made me want her even more. Suddenly, I didn't want to cum on her tits, I wanted to cum inside her.
"Anne?"
"Am I doing it wrong," she asked, looking up at me in alarm.
"No Anne. That's perfect. It's just that..."
"Do you want me to do this?" she asked, sliding a finger up towards my asshole.
It was too late to stop now. "Yeah," I whimpered, bucking my hips. I could feel them semen building. "I'm getting close," I gasped as the unmistakable urge kept building. "Now!" I grunted. She jerked my dick down so the jizz wouldn't hit her in the face, and my cum started shooting out, all over her white freckled tits.
"You like that?" she asked, pumping me furiously.
"Yeah," I moaned, shuddering with the spams of my orgasm. She kept going, her fingers just barely hitting the ridge of my dick. Obviously, Biff had taught her well.
"You're really good at that," I said, trying to catch my breath.
