It was dark when Barry and Lynn arrived at the Sutton’s Sunset District home in San Francisco. Barry pulled the Ford to the curb in front, right behind Jack Goren’s expensive and unmistakable Lincoln Continental. He sat there for a moment, staring through the windshield at the Lincoln, his body suddenly going cold and a viscid sweat starting up on his chest and under his arms.
Lynn said, “Round one goes to me,” and laughed throatily.
“You fucking slut!“ he exploded. “Just because… just because Jack’s car is here doesn’t mean he and Kim are… are doing anything they shouldn’t be doing.”
“Doesn’t it?” Lynn asked. “Well, suppose we just have a look.”
“Suppose we do just that?” Barry replied, opening the door and stepping out of the car. When Lynn had done likewise and they were standing on the sidewalk, he added, “There’s a window around the far side of the house. We’ll take a look through there. I can tell you what we’ll see: Jack and Kim sitting there, maybe having a drink, but that’s all.”
“We’ll see,” was all Lynn said.
As they followed the path silently around the side of the dwelling, Barry felt a little uncomfortable at the idea of spying on his wife this way. But, damn it, he thought, it was the only way to disprove Lynn’s ridiculous allegation of a tryst between Kim and her husband.
They reached the window, and Barry moved up next to the house, in the shadows and out of the elongation of warm light coming through the partially-draped glass. Lynn did the same, on the other side, sidestepping around the pool of light. And then, just as Barry began to edge his body into a position to see through the window, a loud, wailing voice penetrated the glass and reached his ears, a voiced that was recognizable even in its obviously impassioned state.
Kim’s voice, the voice of his wife, saying: “God, Jack fuck it harder, fuck it harder! I’m going to cum, darling, I’m going to cum, fuck meeeeee!”
In abject horror, Barry stepped directly into the illumination, staring with bulging eyes at what was transpiring inside the palely lighted living room of his own home. He saw it that single instant the nude jumble of arms and legs, white and glistening with sweat, that thrashed and writhed on the couch; he saw the wide, hirsute, wildly pumping buttocks of a man who could only be Jack Goren flailing between the upraised and widely spread things of a woman who could only be his wife. He couldn’t see either of their faces, but he knew fully and irrevocably-who they were.
Kim’s wailing voice reached his ears again. “Now, Jack… now, darling… oh God, ooooohhhhhhhh! Yessssssssssss! I’m… I’m cum… cummmiiinnnnnngggggg!“
Barry recoiled in utter loathing as he saw his wife’s legs kick out in the air and lewdly wrap themselves around Goren’s upper torso, presenting up her naked crotch in wanton sacrifice to his frenzied thrusts as she achieved her orgasm under his pistoning, thundering cock. Suddenly, then, a blind, consuming, unreasoning anger seized control of Barry’s brain. He emitted a low, animal like snarl of hate and disgust and hurt, whirled from the window, and ran toward the front door of the house. He wasn’t aware that Lynn was on his heels, but if he had been he would have been further incensed by her soft, mocking laughter.
Barry grabbed the doorknob, twisted it violently; the door was not locked. He flung it open, rushing inside, and stood there, his face a brilliant red, his legs spread, spittle flecking his lips. “You fucking goddamned whore-bitch!” he screamed at Kim. “You dirty goddamned slut! Fucking another man right in my own living room, oh you filthy harlot bitch!“
Kim had sat up convulsively at the sound of his entrance, her legs still splayed on the couch, the white, sticky fluid of Goren’s semen dripping from her pink, wet cuntal mouth to stain the material of the cushions. Her hand was up to her mouth, choking back a terrible, whimpering cry as she recognized her husband, Barry, standing there. Shame and guilt came to her then, came to her tenfold, and her face flamed. She leapt to her feet, her hands wildly seeking her clothing, pulling on her jersey blouse and her stretch pants, not bothering with her panties or bra.
“And you, you son of a bitch!” Barry yelled at Goren. “I ought to kill you, that’s what I ought to do, you son of a bitch!”
Goren rose slowly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Almost casually, he picked up his own clothes and began to dress, saying, “Take it easy, Barry. Try to calm down, will you?”
“Calm down? You bastard, who do you think you are to tell me to calm down when I just caught you fucking my own wife?” "Who do I think I am?” Gorйn asked quietly. “Why, I’m the guy who saw you licking my wife’s cunt while she was sucking your cock less than two hours ago at Salmon Creek.”
More hot words chocked in Barry’s throat at the calm revelation that he and Lynn had been observed Sixty-Nining in the rear yard of the cabin. But if that were the case… oh God, then Kim had seen it too!
As if reading his thoughts, Goren said, “That’s right, Barry. Kim was with me.
We both saw you and Lynn together. And because we did, we decided that turnabout was fair play, if you know what I mean.”
Barry spluttered, trying to find words, his brain reeling. Lynn came up beside him and touched his arm. “I told you, didn’t I, lover? I told you that I knew my husband pretty well.”
Barry whirled on her, staring at her with a certain revulsion. “You planned all of this!“ he screamed suddenly, as full understanding overtook him. “You and Jack, you planned this whole goddamned thing!“
“That’s right, we did,” Goren said, buckling his belt and walking toward him.
“You… you bastard!” Barry screamed.
“Oh come now, Barry,” Goren said. ‘Why don’t you wise up? This is 1970, not the Victorian age. This kind of thing is done all the time, though usually all parties involved are willing and cognizant. The term is wife-swapping, and it’s not half as ugly as most people-people like yourself-try to make it out to be.”
“It’s… sick, sick!”
“No,” Lynn said, “it isn’t sick at all. It’s a whole new concept. Wife-swapping – and group sex, too, especially-is a way of life which can heighten one’s physical enjoyment a hundred-fold, teach a person a whole new dimension in physical gratification. In fact” -and she winked at Goren – ”it usually heightens both partners in a marriage to unheard of pleasure from their own mating. Jack and I are proof positive of that fact.”
Kim, sitting miserably on the couch, immobile as if she had been thrust into a catatonic state until that moment, lowered her hands from her face and stared at the room’s occupants. She felt dazed, confused; so much had happened in so short a time to disrupt her life, she couldn’t accept what she had heard Lynn and Jack say, but yet… or God, she must be as depraved as they were, for she had enjoyed Jack Goren, enjoyed his tongue down between her thighs and his penis inside her vagina… She didn’t know what to think; Jack’s soothing words, his strong arms and his sympathetic way-all of it had been a lie, a lie just so he could seduce her… she should hate him, hate him violently, but she didn’t… that was the thing, she didn’t hate him at all.
Barry, standing in the room’s center and staring and Jack and Lynn Goren, was trembling violently. He didn’t know what to think either, except that what he was hearing went against everything he had ever been taught, everything he had ever believed in. He needed time to think, and his temples were pounding insanely; he was going to blow his mind if he didn’t calm down… and he couldn’t do that with the Gorens still there.
He said in a low, deadly tone, “You’d better leave now, both of you. You’d better get out of here before I do something I’ll probably be sorry for.”
Goren nodded taking Lynn’s arm. “All right, Barry. I know how it is you need time to think things over. We’ll call you tomorrow, after you’ve had an opportunity to look at things more rationally. Maybe, then, you’ll see that we’re right." “Get the fuck out of here!” Barry screamed.
The Gorens obeyed, shutting the door softly behind them.