SUMMER SWAP // Part 1 // Chapter 3

They descended the ladder, Cheyenne going first, then they entered the main cabin, walked down three bedrooms, passing the bathroom where he’d been with Carla, and into their small bedroom suite. The king size bed took up most of their space. Bump-out closet, a mirror, a small built-in dresser. The bed itself was raised up about 3 feet off the ground. You had to climb up and onto it and it butted right up against the window. When you were sleeping it looked like you were adrift on a raft in the water.

Cheyenne turned on a small lamp affixed to the wall at the bedside, and climbed up onto the bed, patting the spot next to him. He slung off his sweatshirt and climbed up to join her. Her lips were on his as soon as he was on the mattress. She had her small warm hands cupped to his neck and then his cheeks, and she breathed deep while she kissed him.

It made him mad. Cheyenne was horny.

He should be excited that his wife was horny, instead all he could think was that he was not the source of her arousal. It was another man. It was being in that bathroom with Philippe and his big dick that got Cheyenne’s motor running. But he went with it, holding Cheyenne’s waist and kissing her in return.

Cheyenne let her hands off his face, shrugged off her sweatshirt, sitting in bed now with him in just her bikini. He untied the back, let the cups fall free and thumbed her nipples. She gasped and moaned, ran her nails through his hair. He said, “You’re horny.”

“So horny,” she said.

“Yeah?” he said, getting them both on their sides and laying down face-to-face, kissing her and rubbing her hip. She was almost naked, her perfect body taut and warm under his palm. “You’re horny for me?”

“Are you horny for me?” she said, thumbing down her bikini bottoms, pulling her legs out of them.

He pushed down on his shorts, taking his underwear with it, and Cheyenne cooed seeing his erection bouncing between his legs. He lay on his back, tossed the shorts off the bedside.

Now he craned his arm to the bedside and flicked off the light. Cheyenne’s mouth went down on his hard cock and he groaned and tightened his stomach feeling his wife’s slippery wet mouth sliding down his shaft. He palmed her head while she bobbed her mouth on his throbbing cock and gently squeezed on his balls.

Byron lay in the dark now, eyes rolled up with pleasure, thinking of his wife exactly like this, getting Philippe hard so they could see if his penis would fit inside a toilet paper tube. Cheyenne trying and saying Oh my gosh, it won’t even go in the tube.

He palmed her neck, pulled her off his cock and guided her up to his side again. He held her in his arms, and she kissed him, pumped her stomach against his hip, put a knee up on his thigh, wanting his cock inside her.

“You’re so horny,” he said.

“I’m so horny,” she laughed.

“Why?”

“Who knows why, let’s just do it,” she said, chuckling.

“I want to talk about what happened.”

Cheyenne’s body stiffened, but then the stiffness eased away. He could picture her face too. That face she did, knowing where he was headed with something and not wanting to go there, and putting on a sly smile to change the subject. Only he couldn’t see her face right now and she was powerless against him.

Cheyenne said nothing, rubbed the inside of her thigh up and down the belly of his erection.

“We should talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about, Byron?”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

“No.”

“You’re not mad at me at all for that toilet thing?”

“No.”

“Are you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” Still kissing, still stroking, trying to change the subject.

“Are you going to ask me if I’m mad?”

Cheyenne sighed and there was a grumble of discontent hidden inside it.

“What?”

“Fine. If you’d rather talk...”

“We’ll talk first, believe me, Cheyenne.”

“Okay, let’s hit it. Where do you want to start?”

“It was a stupid game,” he said.

“It was nothing. It was just stupid fun.”

“So you thought it was fun?”

“Didn’t you think it was fun?”

“What are you insinuating, because I was down there with Carla?”

“You sure went down there in a hurry.”

“I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t in a hurry, by the way.”

“You were pretty eager to get down there. Probably thought it had something to do with Carla’s tits.”

“That’s not even fair. Why would you even say that?”

“Because you’re trying to make this about being jealous, and I’m arming myself against your argument. Did you go down there to see her big titties?”

“No.”

“And what did I do?”

“Are you saying I’m thinking you went down there to see his big dick?”

“That’s where you’re trying to get to. I’m just trying to shorten the route.”

He said, “Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not. I told you I’m not. You want me to be mad at you because you’re mad at me. You want to turn this into a fight and I don’t even want to fight. . . . It was funny. She went down there and you didn’t know what it was. I believe you. I know nothing happened between you and Carla. You going to tell me she didn’t show you her tits but I’ll ask Carla tomorrow and she’s gonna say yes, she showed you her tits. I’m not going to be mad. You already saw Carla’s tits. I don’t care. She has nice tits and I know you like them.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Byron, it’s not weird to like tits. Don’t touch them, that’s all.”

“I didn’t touch them.”

Cheyenne raised an eyebrow. “So she showed them.”

“Oh my God,” he said, “how is this on me now?”

“Do you think it was such a great idea to start this conversation? We could be fucking right now. You could be coming inside me but you’d rather turn this into something dumb and boring and cardboard.”

“That’s what you think of me, I’m cardboard?”

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I was saying.”

“Again, you’re mad at me. I didn’t do anything.”

“And there’s that insinuation again that I did something.”

“You did.”

“I did the exact same thing you did, Byron. I went down to the bathroom to see what a toilet paper game was. I had an idea, yes, I knew it would have something to do with a penis. It’s pretty obvious because a toilet paper tube is cylindrical. I’m not a dummy. But I knew it wasn’t going to be anything bad.”

“You don’t think it was bad?”

“Byron, you did the same thing. You put your dick inside a toilet paper tube in front of Carla. You have nothing to say.”

“I wasn’t . . . it wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” she shouted.

“Okay, okay,” he said soothingly, looking for her wrists and then holding her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean to shout.”

Byron was quiet a moment. “I went down there, and I didn’t know what it was. Carla turned her back and I was reluctant. But then she was encouraging me to just get it done, and she wasn’t looking. I tried to get hard. I couldn’t get all the way hard and I didn’t ask her to, but yes, she flashed me her chest. Okay?”

“And that got you hard?”

“Oh God, I should’ve seen that coming.” He’d walked right into it.

Then, surprisingly, instead of being mad, Cheyenne touched a finger to his lower lip. She said, “Carla’s got nice tits.”

“They’re not terrible,” he said.

“Okay?”

He shook his head and sighed. “Talk about shortening the route.”

“What does that mean? What route?”

“Now I’m following your path and I see your destination.”

She said, “What’s my destination?”

“Your destination is for me to understand that it’s okay for you to appreciate that Philippe has got a great big good-looking dick.”

And instead of being aghast or offended, Cheyenne chuckled.

“You think that’s funny?”

“No, what’s funny is that was pretty insightful.”

“It was?”

“Yeah, I called you out on it, and I left myself open. You saw right through me.”

“So I got it right?”

“I’m not saying Philippe has a big good-looking dick, you dummy. But I want you not to be mad at me, that’s all.”

“So what happened down there?”

“Nothing happened, Byron. Seriously, nothing happened.”

“You were down there for so long.”

“Yeah, whatever. We were talking.”

“Talking about what?”

“Just about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff? You were down there talking with him and his pants were down?”

“No. His pants weren’t down. We were just hanging out in the bathroom and talking.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Cheyenne, sorry, I don’t understand what you’re telling me. You went down there and nothing happened? You just were sitting there and talking? Like, it sounds suspicious.”

“Suspicious how? What do you think I was doing down there? Philippe’s a nice guy. We were just chatting. He’s divorced, and he’s having a hard time getting used to it. I mean we know that he was the one who call it off with Paloma, and that’s okay. And he was okay with it and they didn’t fight, and everything’s fine now. But he’s trying to get back out and dating, and everything is just so shitty.”

“At what part did you measure his dick?”

“We didn’t have to.”

“What do you mean you didn’t have to? Did you guys cheat or something? Philippe just told you that he was bigger than a toilet roll?”

“No, he just . . .”

“Could he not get it up?” And now he was worried what Cheyenne would’ve done to get Philippe erect. And would she tell him?

“No, he didn’t get it up.”

“Aw, that’s bull shit. See? You guys were cheating.”

“No, we were not cheating.”

“Then how can he be bigger than a toilet roll tube, how can you say that?”

“He was bigger than a toilet roll.”

He was silent a long time waiting for her to finish. But slowly he realized her response spoke volumes, and reality began to pool around his feet. “He didn’t have to . . .?”

“Get it up? No. He showed me before he . . .”

“So, you’re saying . . .?”

Cheyenne nodded, lips slimmed. “It was bigger already.”

“Without being hard?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“That’s not crazy,” she said. Then: “Is that crazy?”

“You don’t think that’s crazy?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Can I ask you a real question?”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Is that why you’re horny?”

She made an exasperated sound.

“Well?”

“Like . . . Maybe. But it wasn’t just that. It was the whole day and the whole night. And it wasn’t just Philippe, it was seeing fucking Sullivan streaking around the deck and he was naked—that was kind of, I don’t know, hot . . . and Sullivan didn’t have a . . .”

“Have a what?”

“Sullivan has a normal dick. It’s not like Philippe showed me the size of his and now I just have to have sex.”

“And you didn’t show him anything?”

She narrowed her eyes into mean slits. “No. I’m not Carla.”

“You guys had a good chat down there. You were down there forever.”

“Yeah, we did have a good talk.”

They were both silent for half a minute, both of them on their backs now and looking up at the ceiling. He rolled toward his wife, rested his hand on her hipbone. The tips of his fingers traveled that valley down between her legs, and he found her sopping wet. He began to stroke at her opening, going low coming up high, finding her petals fully engorged and her clitoris swollen. Cheyenne breathed deeply while he fingered her, then she raised her knees and let her legs fall open wider. He pushed fingers inside of her, and she touched his arm, her other hand holding his wrist. He fingered her until his eyes grew adjusted to the dim, and the pale moonlight began to settle on his wife’s soft curves. He could see the raised ridge of her rib cage, the hard bolt of a nipple. He watched her breathe, charcoal light playing on her supple body. Cheyenne’s pussy made soft wet smacking sounds around his plunging fingers. He twirled her clitoris then plunged and cupped his fingers inside her. He got her painting.

He said, “How did you prove he was bigger than the toilet roll?”

Cheyenne mumbled a complaint, but then whispered her reply. “He showed it to me and it was obvious.”

“You didn’t check?”

“He pulled his pants down and I laughed because it was like we didn’t even have to check.”

“But you checked?”

“I held the toilet roll next to it.”

“You touched it?”

“Not my skin, Byron, just the toilet roll.”

“And it was longer?”

“It was longer. And then I tried to slide the toilet paper tube onto it, but like the head wouldn’t even get in the opening at all.”

“Are you laughing?”

“It was so funny,” she said.

“Should I think it’s funny?”

“No.”

“Why’s that? Should I be worried?”

“No,” she said. “Now that’s funny.”

“And you didn’t touch his dick?”

“Nope,” she said, beginning to hump back against his plunging fingers. “That feels so good,” she whispered.

“You’re changing the subject like you always do.”

“Would you please just fuck me.”

Byron brought his fingers out, swirled her clit, then mashed on it, kneeing her to roll over toward the window. He spooned behind her, thumbed his aching ramrod of an erection upright till the tip found the hot wet groove of his wife’s opening. He slid himself up inside her, and all he could think about was Cheyenne alone with Philippe and his big dick. “He said he wasn’t even hard at all?”

“Not at all,” she whispered, her soft, airy voice strung tight at the feel of his erection sliding inside her. She moaned when he got deep. “Oh God.”

“Just a big old dangling dick,” he said.

“Just a big, hairy, soft dick,” she gasped.

“You’re turning me fucking on, Cheyenne.”

She chuckled, then reached behind her and dug her nails into his thigh. “Fuck me,” she said.

And he did, going slow, knowing she wanted it hard and fast but wanting her to beg him. He slid out, then all the way in, and almost all the way out again. Keeping the pace dreadfully slow, watching her silvery moonlight profile the whole time. Studying her. He said, “Would it be too big for you?”

“No,” she said.

Byron jolted and Cheyenne liked the feel of him stabbing into her deeply. “You could take his big dick?”

“Yeah,” she gasped.

Now his stomach squirmed, his intestines like a nest of snakes. She said it wasn’t crazy seeing that big dick, and now she said she could take it. Dirty talk with your husband would suggest saying you couldn’t take it. But Cheyenne said she could. A curious interest in his wife’s mind, he was sure of it. And now he was thinking maybe she’d had it before. A big dick. Another boyfriend with a huge dong. He said, “You could take it?”

“Yeah,” she gasped again, rolling her hips against him, her butt cheeks patting against his hipbones.

“You could take a big dick like that?”

“Mm, yeah,” she said.

“You could take it deep?” he said, thrusting himself inside her, hard and all the way, every inch he had.

“I could take it deep,” she gasped, and now he was the one who was losing control. Gripping her arm, the strokes getting fast, erratic.

His hand swept around, fingers mushing through his wife’s soaking sex, two fingers finding the hard knot of her clit in all those luscious slippery folds and swirling hard on it while his iron-hard cock thrusted in and out of her. Cheyenne went wild. “This little pussy’s too tight for a big dick,” he growled.

Cheyenne mewled and grabbed her own breasts. “God, yes, Byron, oh God,” she cried.

“You want his big dick inside you?”

Cheyenne stammered, unsure but still aroused. “No,” she croaked.

The right answer, but he demanded she say yes. He told her: “Tell me you want it, Cheyenne.”

She complained in her throat, knowing saying such a thing would be depthlessly taboo, but getting into the dirty talk with her husband. “I . . . want his big dick.”

The words sent him off like a rocket-ship in the most unexpected way. Hearing his wife say something so sexually awful ignited the combustion low in his belly that would erupt the contents of his balls. The wheels were already in motion, his cock sending out streams of pre-come inside her right now, making their union slippery. “Tell . . . tell me you’ll take his big dick.”

“I’ll take it,” she cried, writhing underneath him, her legs kicking as he fucked her hard from behind, not side-by-side anymore but him almost on top of her, Cheyenne with one leg splayed out, her feet curled in the bed sheets.

He grabbed her knee and pinned her to the bed and fucked her hard, wanting to come deep inside her. Thinking of someone else doing it. Thinking of her making these exquisite sounds because she was being spread apart by a dick that wouldn’t fit inside a toilet roll even when it was soft.

Cheyenne was the first to come, and once she stiffened and squeaked and gasped, it was all over for him too. The thought of Cheyenne right now imagining another man’s oversized cock fucking her proved too much and he exploded inside her. It sent Cheyenne off again and she wailed with pleasure.

He pushed in as deep as he would go, cock flexing and twitching, streams of his ejaculate filling her up.

He collapsed on his wife and rolled to the side. The frivolity of the day, the quantity of beer, the heat of the daytime sun, and his incredible orgasm, all had his eyes closing and his mind slipping into deep unconsciousness, Cheyenne still moaning at his side.