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He turned about slowly and, even as he did so, her arms continued to hug him fiercely. Once he glanced quickly at Cindy's place and was mildly surprised to note there were no lights on in the house. His attention, however, was strictly limited to Rose's manner of standing close to him. Her body was quivering like a frightened colt's, she was half sobbing and perhaps even slightly hysterical. One thing, the most important thing, he now discovered even though it was pitch-dark outside, was that her upper body was unclothed. She must have stripped off her blouse and bra the moment he had stepped through the doorway and followed him with the definite purpose of pressing her tits against his body.

"Rose," he said very softly. "Do you want me to make love to you?"

"Y-Yes. Everything you did to… Cindy."

"We must go back inside," he told her gently.

"Y-Yes… of course. Come."

He walked up onto the porch and pushed open the door, which stood ajar. She kept both arms wrapped about him as though fearful he might leave her. Her body was still quivering. Obviously, the woman was scared and shaken up by what she was doing, but her passion was overriding all her other feelings.

Pete closed the door and kissed her almost in the same motion. She clung to him more fiercely than before, and it crossed his mind that he had told Mary he would be back home immediately after laying Cindy as per agreement between the two couples, but here he was in another woman's house, a sex-starved woman at that. Pete was not worried about this, but he was concerned that Mary might think an accident had befallen him if he didn't return within a reasonable period of time. Probably she would call Cindy, who would tell her he'd left at an earlier hour and…

"Talk dirty to me, Pete… Please make me feel… you know…"

Pete knew. She wanted him to make her feel like a wanton and then when the morning came, she could excuse away the whole business by kidding herself he had unduly excited her and driven her to do… whatever it was she had in mind to do. However, he inwardly shrugged and whispered in her ear.

"You're a hot bitch, aren't you, baby? You want me to stick my tool up your cunt and give you a spray job. You want to be fucked, baby, and you don't care who does it so long as he's got a big, stiff cock. Right?"

She didn't answer him and he hadn't expected her to. She simply pressed her body up to his all the more fiercely and spoke two words. "Say more."

"More dirty words, baby? All right. After I've fucked your cunt, would you like me to eat your box and run my tongue up and down and in and out of it the way you saw me do to Cindy?"

This time she answered him. "Y-Yes, Pete. Do all of those things and I… I'll… do something to you… maybe."

"What do you mean 'maybe'?"

"I don't know. Take me to the bedroom. That door right there."

There was a dim light burning in the front room, but still he had to look about him before he saw the door she meant. Then he picked her up, her great boobs pressed against his face maddeningly, and carried her into the bedroom. There was another dim light burning in this room which gave off just about enough illumination to allow him to see her. Her body was unbelievably beautiful, and he wondered why such a lovely woman would have to resort to window-peeping for her kicks. Perhaps she liked that sort of thing. If she did, and could get away with it, he was all for it. Take your kicks where you find them, was one of his staunchest beliefs.

He turned his back to her and took off his shirt and pants, following the removal of his jacket. He tossed these over a chair and yanked his T-shirt over his head and did the same with it. He stood now in front of her wearing only his shorts. His cock was hard and standing erect despite the cloth of his shorts. Rose stared at his crotch and wet her lips, her great bosom heaving passionately.

"Will you take it out of your briefs and let me… see it?" she asked her voice sounding scared and hollow.

There was something odd about her that was turning Pete on. He slipped his shorts down a few inches, exposing his hard-on to her. She gasped and blinked her eyes.

"Do you like to look at it?" he asked, his own voice sounding strange now.

"I'd like to take it in… my… mouth. May I please?"

Pete felt the hair on the nape of his neck standing, or thought he did. "You… may," he said, his voice almost cracking.

"And do you… will it send out… juice… if I do?" she asked in a monotone.

"If you keep it up long enough, a lot of juice will come out of it," he told her tensely.

"Wonderful," she murmured. "How wonderful. And what do I do with the juice? Swallow… it?"

Pete himself swallowed now out of sheer nervousness. "Of course," he said. "Of course you should swallow the results of… love." He knew this sounded thick, but it was the only thing his mind presented to him. "If you want to, that is," he added.

"Pull your briefs down farther. I want to see all of you."

Pete had a tough time to keep from grinning at the way she was talking. It sounded so… old-fashioned, out of touch, something. He complied with her request and went her one better by removing his shorts altogether. Moving closer to the bed, he took his hard-on between thumb and second finger and lowered the head of it so that it was, in effect, pointing straight at her face, only inches away.

"Want to suck it, Rose?" he asked softly. "Want to suck off a man's prick?"

"Oh… yes…" she breathed. "Let me remove my lower garments." She did so and he watched her, noting that she kept her panties on.

He motioned towards her crotch. "Why keep 'em on? I might want to stick you there between the legs, you know. That's what your cunt is for, Rose, to receive the offerings of a male cock." He knew he was deliberately attempting to put words in such a manner that they would drive her nearly crazy with desire, and wondered if he were being successful. She seemed no hotter now than she had been, but possibly she had already reached the zenith of her passion when she had run after him to the street and it was impossible for her to get any hotter.

"If I remove my panties," she asked hesitantly, "will you promise to… suck me there?"

"I'll do it to you all ways, baby. Just take 'em off. I hate superfluous clothing. Yes, I'll suck your slit. Of course I will. After I…"

"After you what?" she asked when he did not go on.

"Nothing, really," he told her. "I don't know what I was about to say. Nothing important, I suppose."

"But you were going to say something."

"I have something to say. You can bet on that, Rose."

She looked up at him lustfully, her parted lips only inches from his stiffened prick. "Yes? What is it, Pete?"

"Suck!" he cried, and tried to shove his cock into her mouth. "Suck me off, you hot bitch."

She sprang out of the bed, grabbed up the sheet and held it in front of her shaking body. "What's the matter with you, Pete?" she asked. "You've suddenly turned into a… a… I don't know what."

Pete sighed, picked up his briefs and pulled them on. She watched him as he slowly, carefully dressed himself, and he was aware she was doing this, but he paid no attention to her. When he was fully clad, he stepped to a mirror, looking at his reflection – what he could see of it in the dim light – and left the room, crossing the front room and opening the door. As he did so, he felt her arms shaking about his middle again.

"Please, don't leave me, Pete! I'm so sorry for what I said. You scared me by your… by what you tried to do. I wasn't ready."

He grabbed her wrists and easily pulled her arms free from his body. Turning about quickly, he looked down coldly into her frightened eyes.

"When you figure you've grown up sufficiently, let me know. I'll see you, little girl."

He stepped out of the house this time and, turning left on the walk, proceeded towards home. His heart hammered savagely all the way to the house, but by the time he had reached the front door, he was relaxed. Entering the house, he saw that their bedroom door was closed, something that seldom if ever happened unless he and Mary were inside and fucking. This must mean that Mark was still here. Pete felt slightly foolish. What should he do? Should he clear out and wait to see if Mark would then leave or should he tap on the door and make his presence known? He shook his head, at a momentary loss to know what to do. This was the first swapping of mates between the two couples and no precedent had been established. Finally, Pete turned and walked quietly out of the house, closing the door after him with great care, not wanting to make any sound that would indicate he was home. They, the four of them, would have to work out some system for this sort of thing, this exchange business, this thing about getting up and going home, but this definitely was not the time to attempt it.