Peter needed but little coaching on what to do, and was sliding his dick between Erika’s breasts with wild abandon.
“I’ve never actually seen that in real life,” gasped Sara, a note of jealousy in her voice. Not of her husband being with another woman, but jealousy of what Erika could offer that Sara could not. I just fucked Sara harder. I gasped to her that right then she was offering me all I could possibly handle.
We both kept our eyes locked on outside, both sensing that Peter was about to lose it. I slid in and out of Sara relentlessly, not even pausing when Peter’s back arched hard and he froze with his dick at its greatest advance. He practically roared with release. I could tell from the soft jerk of Erika’s head, followed by a licking of her lips, that he had come all over her.
I lost it. I moaned loudly enough to actually attract attention from outside, though they clearly couldn’t see us, and shot my own prodigious load inside Sara. I felt myself pumping and pumping shot after shot of jizz, groaning loudly.
But my own cries were drowned out by Sara’s sudden burst of ecstasy. She thrashed wildly beneath me as I manfully tried to keep my own pounding going through her entire ecstatic cluster of orgasms.
At last, I collapsed on Sara’s back. Outside, we saw Peter roll over onto the grass, one hand pressing down on the top of his head as if her were trying to stuff his brains back in.
“Well,” I whispered in Sara’s ear. “If your neighbors didn’t hear you earlier, they damn sure all heard that out there!” She laughed in agreement.
Outside, Peter wobbled to his feet and lifted my apparently cum-sodden wife to hers. Together, holding hands, they jumped into the pool.
When they came inside, mostly toweled dry but still quite naked like us, Sara and I were sitting opposite each other in the booth in the kitchen that they used as a breakfast nook. Erika slid in next to me and Peter fell in beside Sara, his arm sliding easily around her shoulder. We had already opened a bottle of Pinot Noir, and Sara poured the two of them glasses of it as they sat.
Wordlessly, we clinked our glasses together as one.
“You should know,” Peter said suddenly, “Sara and I have rules.”
“Rules?” I asked, challengingly.
“Oh, not for YOU,” Peter hasted to say, “for US. I just thought you might like to hear ours, since you probably would be wise to adopt your own, unless you plan to go on with your lives tomorrow as if tonight didn’t happen….”
Erika and I wordlessly looked at each other yet again. We smiled. “Do go on, Peter,” said Erika calmly, her hand resting contentedly on my thigh.
“One,” said Peter, holding up a finger, “we always start any interaction like this as a couple. Together. We always need to be aware of what is happening with the other…” said Peter, then quirked a smile, “in general terms, at least. A lot of couples we know who swing don’t follow this one, but it is very important to the two of us.”
“Two, it is always another couple,” Peter went on, holding up a second finger. “We decided early one to avoid threesomes. They feel too dangerous to us. This works really, REALLY well because we keep it equitable. Threesomes are always at least a little unbalanced, be it with another man or woman. Again, many if not most other swingers we know don’t have this as a rule or even a guideline. This is not a monoculture we’ve given you a look at tonight.”
“Three, we both have to want, really want, our opposite numbers in the other couple. Enthusiastically. No one ever ‘takes one for the team’ and hooks up with someone they aren’t attracted to, just because the other one of us really has the hots for the other half.”
“Aw, honey!” I said, in a stage whisper, “They both think we are hot.”
Sara leaned forward, shaking her head and smiling. “Shit, George. We’ve been plotting how to fuck you two since the minute after we left that soccer parents’ orientation meeting where we first met. It was some hot sex that night while we planned our moves, let me tell you!”
Erika’s hand slid up my thigh to rest on my cock, which seemed satisfied and happy, even though it could barely twitch in response. “I think I can speak for George when I say we appreciate your sticktoitive-ness,” Erika said firmly.
“It’s weird though,” I said, looking at Erika. “I can’t think of another couple we know who are both hot enough to try this with.” Erika shook her head back at me, but we both were clearly thinking.
Peter raised his glass to me.
“Fourth, there are no solo missions. We don’t hang with someone from another couple without the other halves being involved. Whether we ‘know’ them or not.”
“Makes sense,” observed Erika. “You may be hot, Peter, but I could never have handled having fun with you had I not known that George and Sara were in here having fun too!” Her fingers curled around my somnolent cock appreciatively.
“They all make sense to me,” I said.
“Fifth,” said Peter, holding up his hand, fingers spread out in a sort of final gesture, “In addition to making sure things remain equitable and transparent, our fun is always about frolic and friendship. Not about deeper relationships except the one between us. We never swing with the same couple twice in a row.”
Erika and I looked at each other at that. I could see the wheels turning in her head and she saw them turning in mine, considering the implications of that.
“Well, Sara,” drawled Erika, “You’d best warm up your rolodex, because I want to return the favor of your invitation and have you guys over to our place pretty soon.”
Peter and Sara laughed. “It’s not like we do this all THAT often. We aren’t your weekly swinger party types. So far this year, we’ve only even considered seven different couples. Four we knew–well–already. Of the other three, you are the only ones who rose to the bait.”
“Only us?” I laughed in turn. “I surprised. You guys have some pretty bodacious bait!” I added, waggling my eyebrows at Sara.
Sara just smiled serenely and made motions that let it be abundantly clear that she was massaging Peter below the table as well. “I admit to looking forward to a reciprocal visit with you guys. Our regular frequency be damned, I’ll have to ask Peter to bestir himself and make the sacrifice to ‘open up our calendar’ for you guys.”