Summer Swap 3.12

Scarlet’s flesh was feverish. An inner heat roasted, and Sully felt the temperature of his wife’s arousal against his lips as he kissed and suckled. Her nipples were full and swollen, with the plumpness of new fruit. He was naked, and she was topless. She loved male genitalia, and their partner for the evening had a gold medal winner between his legs.

Scarlet’s muscles quivered under her taut skin. Sully’s hands played over her ribs and stomach and lower back like he was exploring her for the first time. And in a way, he was. This was the Scarlet he knew and loved, but she’d exposed a hidden facet to her. He’d been blessed with it. A part of his wife she would have kept hidden, now exposed to him, where he could tweak it, play with it, squish it, use it to make her shriek with ecstasy. And that was what he wanted more than anything. To send his sexy redheaded kitten over the top. To smash her soft little pussy over and over until she babbled his name. Or Philippe’s name. He didn’t even care anymore. The jealousy was kind of fun. It provoked him, urged from him some turbo-charged masculinity; not wanting to be bested, not wanting to be diminished, but also wanting Philippe to be here, to help out, to take one end of Scarlet and help carry her up and over the cliff wall of orgasm.

And as if reading his mind, Philippe’s suckling of Scarlet’s plump left nipple stopped, and he pulled back saying, “Let me watch you with her, Sully. Show me Scarlet in ecstasy. I really want to see what makes her motor run.”

Sully panted with eagerness. Philippe had been sucking Scarlet’s nipple. Scarlet was Sully’s wife. But, yeah, he loved it when he got Scarlet’s motor running and he’d love to show off what she could do.

Sully looked up at his wife, whose eyes had taken an aroused and glassy shine. He said, “You hear that, baby? Let’s show him what we can do.”

“Not so fast,” Scarlet said, her voice breathy and slow. Both her hands cupped around the back of Sully’s head and Philippe’s, her fingernails scratching through their hair. “You’re taking us off course.”

Philippe tongued Scarlet’s nipple. “I think you want to go off course.”

Scarlet still caressed their heads. “Yes, I don’t mind going off course, but if we don’t hit our waypoints, we’re going to get lost out here.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Sully said, running his tongue up her stomach and along the ridge of her rib cage. Scarlet moaned with pleasure, swaying on her feet.

“The first waypoint,” she said, but couldn’t continue, eyelashes fluttering.

Philippe repeated, “The first waypoint…”

“Is confirming you have a fourteen-inch dick.”

Philippe chuckled. “I don’t. It’s—”

Scarlet pressed her finger to his lips. “Don’t wreck my fun.”

With his lips held together by the point of her finger, Philippe muttered, “We could just get to the point, though.”

Sully said, “She thinks the point was fourteen inches.”

Scarlet looked at him, mouth slimmed to an unimpressed line. “All right, hotshot,” she said, seeming to clear her thoughts. “Show me how you measure,” dipping, and swiping the tape measure out of his grip. Then she held the bulk of the rolled tape in one hand, smacked the point of his erection with the zero end.

He grunted and gripped his dick, holding it protectively. “Well, that’s not how you do it, whipping it like that.”

Philippe chuckled, then lowered back to his elbows, letting his huge cock lay up on his belly—the endpoint above his navel.

“So show me,” Scarlet said to Sully, getting his attention again. “Let’s do yours.”

Sully took the dangling zero-point of the tape measure, threading it outward, Scarlet feeding him more tape than he needed. “Okay,” he said, “you measure on the top side, not the bottom side.”

Scarlet repeated it as though she were taking notes. “Right, not the bottom side.”

“The bottom side has no endpoint, you see? I could start at my butt hole, my tailbone, see where I’m going?”

“Sure. We don’t like cheaters.”

“We don’t. So we measure from the top side. From the top side,” he said, snugging the zero and into the base of his cock, “then up to, you know—”

“The pee hole.”

“Right,” Sully said.

Philippe said, “Urethra.”

Scarlet said, “Ooh, somebody went to med school,” and they all laughed.

“So there,” Sully said, “now you do it,” leaning back with the tape draped over his upright penis.

She held the tape in place with one hand and tightened it across his dorsal side. “It’s seven… And a bit.”

“We can add a bit more, because you could push the zero further into my body.”

“I thought we didn’t like cheaters,” she said, narrowing her eyes on him.

He said, “It’s acceptable.”

“Sully’s in the penis measuring union, Scarlet, the Local 4712. I’d take his word for it.”

“You guys are hilarious,” she said, as though unimpressed by their banter. “And around the middle, what about measuring that?”

Philippe looked over at Sully’s erection with the tape draped over the end of it. “I’d say he’s six inches.”

Sully pointed a finger pistol at Philippe and winked.

Scarlet said, “What, did he get it right?”

Sully said, “Yeah, looks like we got a suite full of dick detectives here.”

Philippe said, “Maybe Scarlet could take her dick measuring major put it to use, you know, profiling dicks for the FBI or something.”

“She’d have her own ‘Ten Most Wanted’ list.”

Both he and Philippe broke up laughing, and the more Scarlet scowled and smirked at them, the harder they laughed. He’d had no idea that it might be like this. He’d wanted to hide in their suite upstairs and let Scarlet come down here all by herself. Look what he would’ve missed. “Okay,” he said when he got himself together again, shifting his hips to wag his dick back and forth like a metronome. “Scarlet, put the tape on our buddy here.”

She regained control of the tape measure and thrashed his chest with it a few times, making him try to bat it away. “Any guesses? Any guesses from my in-house dick counsel?”

Sully said, “Find out for yourself. Did you bring a notebook? You have to write all these numbers down and then do some math. Length, three girth measurements...”

Philippe agreed. “Calculate their volume. Displacement.”

Sully said, “I hope you remember your algebra.”

“You know the value of pi, right?”

Scarlet shook her head at them both in admonishment. “Why do you guys insist on taking all the fun out of this?”

“Sorry,” Sully said, putting up his hands in surrender, Philippe joining in. “We just want to get to the good stuff.”

Philippe said, “Yes, Scarlet. Your stuff.”

Sully watched as his wife’s cheeks blushed redder. It aroused her having both of their attention. It aroused her being in control, too. Being the one with the tape measure. Being the one in charge, telling everyone else what to do. But he couldn’t wait to find out how quickly that would crumble once they started in on her. Would it be quick? Would she fight back, try to stay on top? For how long? God, what if she kept her wits about her the whole time? What if it turned out Scarlet was even more dominant than Carla? His wife could be the alpha bitch on this yacht, and she didn’t even know it. Scarlet just let Carla take the wheel even though behind Carla’s back Scarlet and Chey talked shit about her, and he bet Scarlet was always saying how she would be a much better driver than Carla.

Scarlet scowled. “What are you smirking about?”

“Who, me?” he said, breaking into a chuckle.

“You look guilty.”

“Just thinking about all the things we’re going to do to you tonight.”

“That’s not what I’m down here for.”

“So she says,” Philippe said under his breath.

“It’s just her cover story.”

Scarlet said to Sully, “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on the side of having the most fun.”

“Are you having fun now?”

“I am,” he said, confident.

Scarlet said to Philippe, “You know he was going to stay up in our room while I was down here?”

“I figured.”

“Isn’t it more fun when he’s here?”

“I think so.”

Sully said, “Is that why you lured me down into your web?”

Scarlet drew an hourglass between her naked breasts. A black widow. He laughed, then sat up, going to her, hugging his arms around her warm, naked body and feeling the heat of her sex-fever against his cool cheek. “You’re so fucking hot.”

She said, “Aam I going to get to measure his Dick or what?

“I’ve never seen somebody take so long doing it, though.”

“She wants it done right,” Philippe said, taking Scarlet’s wrist and pulling her on top of him. She fell against Philippe’s body, his naked cock between them, Scarlet’s bare chest pressing his hot, engorged manhood. Sully watched the foreskin gulp closed over the enormous cock head, Scarlet’s weight pressed against it. His own cock surged with unexpected delight.

He said, “Get that tape on it, Scarlet, get your numbers. I can barely stand watching you without putting my hands all over you.”

“I want you to sit there and watch,” she said, chest to chest with Philippe, her eyes on his. Her skin was smooth pale porcelain against Philippe’s hard, furry muscle. The black hairs prickled and sprung against Scarlet’s naked skin. There was no way Sully would’ve anticipated how arousing he found the sight.

He spanked Scarlet’s ass, and she yelped. And he said it before he could even gauge whether it should be said: “Why don’t you kiss him?”

Both she and Philippe smiled, looking at each other, hearing his words and themselves gauging whether that was a good thing. Scarlet wondering if she would be able to kiss another man. Measuring his penis was one thing…

Philippe said, “Seven Minutes In Heaven.”

“We never did get to kiss...”

Sully said, “Carla yanked the door open too quick. You never got to see how compatible you two were.” What the fuck was he saying?

Scarlet bit her lip, then like an awkward teenager darted her lips to smack Philippe’s chin before scooting upright, scrambling to sit on his stomach, her legs straddling his hips. Philippe laughed, never getting a chance to kiss her back, instead now lacing his fingers together behind his head, showing off the muscle. Scarlet looked at the half of his big cock that was showing, putting the tape measure on it saying, “Five inches. I really thought it was going to be bigger.”

Philippe flexed his butt muscles, getting Scarlet to jostle and ride up and down on his hips. “You might want to scoot down a little.”

She did, saying, “Oh my gosh, you’re right, there’s a lot more here.”

Sully said, “Do it from the top side.”

Philippe grumbled, “Miss Fourteen Inches.”

“What, is that a crazy number?”

“Nobody has a fourteen-inch penis,” Sully said like he was mad at her.

“Sor-ry,” she said, “what do I know?”

Philippe said, “Not as much as your husband, apparently.”

“Har-dee har har,” Sully pronounced.

* * *

The way Philippe lay might have been about the most sexy thing she had ever seen. Philippe was kind and nice when you talked to him, when he was sociable at dinner or parties and fully clothed, and it seemed to de-fuse what turned out to be a potent masculinity. When you found out how hot his body was without his clothes and how long and thick his penis was, you saw him in a whole different way. He lay confident below her, between her straddling thighs, with his hands behind his head. His shoulders were huge, his beard thick and manly. And his gnarly horse cock lay up on his muscular stomach.

She held the tape measure in her hands, topless, her nipples aching and wet from both their mouths. She smiled, taking it all in, enjoying it, dragging the pleasure of anticipation on and on and on.

Then Sully rose from lounging at her side, threw a leg over Philippe and straddled him as well, snuggling up behind her, buck naked, his wet cock slipping along her back. His hands went under her arms and she allowed it, gasping as he cupped her breasts. The action of her husband surprised her, threw her sex drive into a high-torque gear she hadn’t anticipated. Something low in her belly slumped, heavy and laden with wet sexual need.

One of Sully’s warm hands abandoned her breast and slid down her stomach, flipping open the button of her shorts before sliding below, going under her panties and discovering with the pads of all four fingers that his wife was flooding right now. She could hear the tackiness of his stroke. They all could. Philippe’s amused face slackened to one of lust.

Sully whispered in her ear, “We’re going to measure his dick right now, okay?”

“Yeah,” she gasped.

“Then,” he whispered, “I want to see if it would fit in your mouth.”