Summer Swap 5-12

Scarlet said, “It doesn’t mean anything, Chey. What do you think it means?”

Chey, in angry disbelief, said, “That she had a suit made for my husband?”

Chey had a point, but she was attributing too much to it. Scarlet said, “I mean, for him, but, at the same time—”

“It means,” Chey said, adamant, “she wanted Byron before we even came on the boat . It means this was all pre-planned, it means—”

“We already thought that, Chey, we talked about that.”

Chey blinked at the ceiling, eyes wide and staring. Scarlet stroked her arm. On Chey’s other side, Sully watched Scarlet, and she showed him a supportive smile, glad he was here with her. She’d spent time before with Cheyenne when she flew off the handle and treated big things way bigger than they even were. But Sully stared back with his own measure of wide-eyed panic. She mouthed to him: “What?”

Sully’s eyebrows darted high, looking caught. He shook his head rapidly and mouthed back: “Nothing.” A sure thing something was up. But for now, she put it out of her head.

A little calmer, which was a good sign, Chey spoke again. “Carla wanted my husband before we got here.”

“It’s alarming, but I don’t think you should worry, baby.”

Chey faced her, rolling her head on the pillow. “Am I a second place trophy?”

“What does that mean?”

“Did Cody just want me because Carla wanted my Byron?”

“Oh.” She saw it now. “We’d thought that before, but about Byron. Like Byron was second place. Byron had trouble with it, too, baby. Let’s talk it out.”

Sully spoke up, his deep male voice surprising in this otherwise supportive and feminine space. “I wouldn’t doubt for a second, Chey, that it wasn’t one over the other. It wasn’t you, it wasn’t Byron. It was both of you. Look how Philippe and Paloma came after us. I thought it was only Scarlet at first—”

“Oh my gosh,” Scarlet said, “you just can’t stop talking about Paloma wanting you.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Chey. You and Byron are a package deal. They want you as a couple.”

Chey rolled her head back and looked at the ceiling again. The panic wasn’t gone, but she couldn’t argue her point with them anymore. The way her eyes darted, even looking at nothing, she knew Chey was still in the throes.

Chey whispered, “She wanted him to come on her, like, like...”

“What are you talking about, baby?”

“Carla. Carla wanted him, wanted Byron to, to...”

“To do what?”

“Like prematurely.”

“Ejaculate?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Who wants that?”

“C-Carla wanted it. Wanted him to do that to her, wanted Byron to not last, b-because...”

Sully said, “Who would want that?”

Chey said, “She knows Byron’s a r-rabbit.”

Scarlet said, “What does that mean?”

“He just keeps going and going. He’s really horny. I told her that. I was the one who told her that.”

Sully rubbed his brow. “I don’t think I needed to know that.”

“He does, he does. And she wanted him to come on her and I let him go do it and I shaved him and dressed him up.”

“Chey we talked about that. Not all of that, but I mean, we talked how it was important for you to rise above, to show loving generosity. Remember I said—”

“I know, I know, I am, I’m happy, but, but she, but he...”

“It’s okay, Chey. Byron’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Just lie with us here, he’ll be back soon and everything will be fine. You wanted this. You wanted it for him and you wanted it for you. You’re strong. Remember that: you’re strong.”

Chey continued. “Byron’s going to want more. He won’t want acrobatic sex or to motorboat her, her, huh, t-titties, he’s going to want a connection.” She grimaced and grabbed her shirt over her heart. “It hurts so much. She’s going to connect with him.”

It could be true. It wasn’t impossible. And she could see how that would upset her. Even Scarlet was squeezing the bridge of her nose now, as challenged by this problem as Sully seemed. She looked over at him now, seeing his expression the same, only... It seemed more like guilt.

Sully saw her looking at him. He mouthed, “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

It occurred to her now what was happening. Her horny husband was lying in bed, post coitus interrupts, and he still had an erection. And, instead of connecting with emotion to Cheyenne’s plight, all this talk of ejaculating on Carla, and probably laying in bed with a woman whose mouth his wife had shoved his cock into, had made matters worse. He was hard and aroused and he was going down the hall to the bathroom to masturbate.

Aloud, she said, “No, you’re not.”

He mouthed, “I have to go.”

She said, “I know what you’re going to do.”

He stared at her. Then, busted, he mouthed, “So?”

“So?”

He said, “Yeah, so?”

She lifted her head, said over Cheyenne, “So, I can’t. I can’t so you can’t. How’s that?”

Sully went up on an elbow. “How’s that? That’s really unfucking fair, that’s how that is.”

“Look it up, Sully, it’s the definition of fair.”

They glowered at each other over their suffering friend long enough they couldn’t help smiling. Then she had a great idea. One that would help Cheyenne. She smiled at Sully, then nodded her head to the side. She said to Chey, “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Both she and Sully got off the bed and met near the foot of the bed, far enough they probably wouldn’t be overheard. Right away, Sully said, “So, what, you want to masturbate, too?”

“Knock it off,” she said, getting close to whisper in his ear. She told him he was going on a mission and he asked what’s the mission and she said, “Mission Find Cody And Bring Him Here.”

He darted his face back and looked at her, confused. “First,” he said, “you need to think of better call signs. Second: why?”

She cupped a hand near his ear and whispered again. “Please, go find him. We can solve this in a good way and neither of us have to masturbate—we can get our bed back and finish what we had going.”

Sully stood upright, nodding, mobilized for his own benefit.

She smacked his bottom, urging him to, “Go, get going!”

* * *

The headboard rattled with his steady rhythm. Carla was on her knees, her elbows on the mattress, her head tucked down, making her shoulder blades stick out. It was a sexy sight. Her skin was smooth and tanned, her waist tiny, her bottom-swell large and womanly. She panted and made soft squeaky gasps as he fucked her.

They’d been going non-stop for forty-five minutes. Missionary, doggy, rump-up, sidecar. She’d trembled her way through at least three more minor orgasms, and right now she was on her way to another one. He was getting used to her body, her responses, her breathing. He liked learning what made her tick. The first time he’d been with her, he’d been intimidated as all get out. All it took was confirmation of the fact that she actually really wanted him in her bed—desired it—to change everything. Yeah, Carla was hot as shit and who wouldn’t want to get her in bed, but this swinging thing may not be for him if it was just wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. He needed more. And now Carla provided more. He hadn’t felt this sexually confident in a long time. Carla brought something good and masculine and creative from deep inside him.

She kicked her feet and lolled her hanging head side to side as another orgasm shivered through her. He slowed, still thrusting with purpose, but giving it to her the way that made her body melt, made her make the best sounds. She collapsed on the bed, laying flat, and he scooted to her side, wanting to roll her away, hug her back, lift a leg, and get his dick inside her heavenly pussy again.

The way Carla lay, allowed her to access her own equipment, and as he stroked the head of his cock along her soaking seam, teasing her, Carla rolled two finger pads on her clit. He kissed her neck and bit her collar; she played with his hair.

Then she had an idea so sudden, she raked her nails on his neck, twisting her face toward his. “Take me outside,” she said.

He eased his cock inside her, watching the way her eyes went unfocused when he did. “You want some fresh air?”

“I want to be in the breeze.”

“Naked.”

She nodded and kissed him. “Fully naked.”

They got off the bed, trying to be quick since their sex drive had high demand, but both of them wobbly on their legs from the furious fucking. Carla stumbled to a tall seven-drawer dresser and clung to it, and he staggered behind her, dipping his knees and going all the way inside her from behind. Her cry of passion basted fog on the dresser’s polish. Her breasts squashed out on either side of her thin back, and he fucked her slow and deep, biting her shoulder. She came again.

He withdrew and stepped back and Carla—sex-demon Carla—stuck to the dresser like a bug on a windshield, her arms hooked onto the top to support her weight, her feet awkward and pigeon-toed. He helped her to stand and she turned to hug him, whispering in his ear, “Take me to the prow.”

“You want to do it on the prow?”

She nodded. Then whispered into his collar, “Titanic style.”

He said, “Like I’m the king of the world.”

* * *

Sully returned with Cody, both of them coming in quietly and not saying anything. Scarlet had her arms around Cheyenne, looking over her shoulder at the two guys stumbling around in the dark after having been out in the bright of the hall, Cody with his hands out in front of him trying to find some unseen something he didn’t want to walk face first into. Sully took Cody’s thick forearm and guided him to the bedside, right behind her. She shifted closer to Chey, hugging her tighter, and Cody got onto the bed behind her, his body big and warm. Sully crossed back to the bed’s other side and got in next to Chey, all of them on top of the covers of the bed that not long ago she and Sully had been fucking on.

“Hey, Scar,” Cody whispered behind her, a hint of mint and whisky on his breath. It gave her the goosebumps. Why didn’t Sully come in behind her?

She said, “Hold on a sec,” getting up on all fours to climb over Cheyenne and join her husband. Her bedsheet toga slipped open and her breasts jostled, hanging straight down where Cody could see them—if his eyes had adjusted to the dark yet. She snapped the sheet taut and covered up but felt a breeze below like she’d been uncovered there, her undercarriage revealed. She stopped, holding an awkward pose on all fours over her good buddy Cheyenne, totally naked with her sheet covering sliding off her. “Cody, Cody,” she said, a little panicked herself, “you’re on my sheet.”

“Huh?”

“Lift your leg, you’re on my sheet, it’s coming off.”

Chey said, “What are you doing?”

Scarlet said, “I’m trying to get over to Sully, but this damned sheet’s slipping off me.”

Sully wolf-whistled and she swatted his knee.

Cody shifted and freed her, and she gathered up the bedding as best she could and fell between Sully and Chey, her back to her husband. At least Chey was laughing now.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.”

Chey stared up, saying to the ceiling in a heavy but amused sigh, “I’m a pain in the ass, aren’t I?”

“Not at all, baby,” Scarlet said, rolling to face her.

Cody said, “We’re here to cheer you up. That sounds like a good time to me.”

Chey’s wide eyes widened further. “Not like that,” she said.

“No, not like that, Chey, that’s not what I meant,” Cody said then chuckled.

Sully rolled behind Scarlet and put an arm around her. She stiffened and quarter-faced him. The shorts-shrouded hump of his hard cock had snuck between her butt cheeks.