The Women of Park Lane

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This story takes place in 1972

I think between us, we had looked at 70 homes on the market, and the town was small. It was our first home, too, so we had a lot to learn. Now we’d finally found the perfect house, on a little cul-de-sac called Park Lane.

We moved in, and when we were settled in our new home, one of our twelve neighbors, Samantha (call me Sam), came over, and she introduced herself. Samantha was in her thirties, and she looked good. On a nice face and a nice figure, good fortune had bestowed healthy, dirty blonde hair, and startlingly blue eyes. Her eyes drew me in and, quite frankly, dazzled me. Sam had a rock on the ring finger of her left hand the size of Montana, sitting happily next to a simple, gold band.

Sam told Brad and me that Gloria was having a welcome party for the entire cul-de-sac in honor of us, the Jacobs. It was a picnic in their backyard, followed by dancing indoors, once dusk came and with it, the mosquitoes. She hoped we could make it.

“Of course,” I said. “That’s really nice of Gloria, whom I have yet even to meet!” I replied. Unlike Brad, I loved to dance.

“Gloria’s married to Dan. She asked me to ask you what your favorite color is, as well,” Sam said.

That’s a bit of a strange question upon meeting someone, but I could see no harm in answering it. “Blue,” I replied. Brad squirmed a bit, and I wondered why. I later learned he had already met Angela.

“A lot of us like blue. We distinguish ourselves by shades of blue, like sky-blue, turquoise, navy blue, royal blue, etc.,” Sam said.

“Oh, okay, well then, I guess it would be sky-blue,” I replied.

“That’s too bad. That’s already taken. It’s Angela’s color,” Sam said.

“What about ripe naval orange, then?” I asked, playing along, and choosing something completely different.

“Perfect!” Sam said. “Naval orange it is. Kiara has tangerine, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” I already knew Kiara. She was stunning, with her gorgeous, long black hair, her delicate bone structure, her slim body, and her trembling, always nervous lips. I know she made Brad hard in just minutes of close contact. Her husband was Vijay, and he was a highly successful finance type guy.


The picnic Saturday was a blast. The men played horseshoes and bocce, while we girls sat around and got drunk on daiquiris, and gossiped. I learned a ton, such as the best beauty parlors in town, the good but hidden restaurants, which supermarket had the best produce, and that there was a butcher shop with great meat. I was feeling no pain!

I did notice one thing. Brad had pinned on a naval orange star on his jacket. One of the men had given it to him. The other men had lots of stars, in different colors. Every man I could see, but Brad, for example, wore a pretty sky-blue star on whatever top they were wearing. I remembered that sky-blue was Angela’s color.

I finally asked Sam what the significance of the stars was. Brad was the only man sporting a naval orange one, but almost every other man was sporting a sky-blue star, we well as several other assorted colors. Sam gave an evasive answer. Later, when I had Angela alone, I asked why so many of the men sported sky-blue stars.

“Do you give them to the men? I mean sky-blue is your color, right? Sam told me that, when I asked,” I asked.

“Oh no, it’s Franny who gives out the stars, and she is quite demanding. She needs proof before she will hand out a star,” Angela said. “Unless, that is, a man earns a star at this annual party event. Kiara is here, and Franny has a supply of tangerine stars already prepared!”

“What do you mean, Franny needs proof. Proof of what?” I asked. I was well and truly flummoxed.

“Oh, you know, pictures or a video, and oh look, Maribeth finally made it to the party! Isn’t her husband Craig handsome?” Angela remarked.

“Is Maribeth’s color violet?” I asked.

“Why yes, yes, it is. How did you guess that?’ Angela asked, but then Maribeth approached us. I noticed her husband, Craig, had only two stars: violet, and fire engine red. Before I could ask him anything, however, Sam whisked me away to the kitchen. As I left, I heard Angela shamelessly flirting with Craig, and saying something, at one point, like he needs a sky-blue star for his collection. When she said that, Maribeth glared at her.

Sam introduced me to Marvin, a small, thin, compact man, who had kind of rugged good looks, and lots of charm. He was rooting around in the refrigerator for a beer. Sam told me Marvin’s wife Susan’s color was Kelly green. Marvin had a Kelly green star, as well as quite a few other colored stars. He already had a tangerine star, I noticed. He might have had all the stars, except of course for my color, naval orange.

“Why does everyone have a color? And what do the stars symbolize, if anything?” I asked.

“What is your color, my dear?” Marvin asked me.

“We just met, and you’re asking me my color already?” I teased.

“She’s naval orange,” Sam said. “You could be the first to add naval orange to your collection. It doesn’t clash with tangerine. Franny was careful about escort izmir that.” Sam then turned to me and said, “If you play your cards right, Marvin might explain the stars to you.”

“I have a theory, and it isn’t pretty,” I said.

“There’s nothing sordid involved, sweetheart. No worries,” Sam reassured.

“Let me show you the game room. It’s a bit hidden,” Sam said, and she led me outdoors to another building hidden away on the property. There were coat hooks outside the door to the game room, and four of the hooks had brassieres hanging from them.

“There are no bras allowed in the game room. You can leave your bra on one of the hooks,” Sam said.

“No thanks. I’m not entering a situation like that!” I said, and I turned to walk back, when Marvin quietly added, “Your husband Brad is in the game room. I saw him go in, after checking out the three bras on the hooks.”

I don’t know why, but I said, “There are four bras on the hooks; not three.”

“When Brad entered there were only three. Then Alexis entered; you can tell, since her bra cup is a DD. What’s your cup size? A?” Marvin teased.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but my cup size is C,” I declared. I didn’t really lie, I just kind of misrepresented, and I have no idea why I did. Usually my cup size is B, but in the brand of bra I was wearing, the label read C. I didn’t add all that; I would have seemed ridiculous if I had. “You’re sure Brad is in there?”

Marvin nodded yes. He was sure Brad was in the game room, no doubt enjoying the braless women of Park Lane. Something was strange here.

“Here, let me help you dear,” Sam said, and she stood to block Marvin’s view of my chest, as she indicated I could now shed my bra. I shrugged. When in Rome, and all that. I handed my bra to Sam to hang on a hook, and she gave it to Marvin, who studied it, embarrassing me, before adding it to the collection of hanging bras.

“What about you, Sam?” I asked.

“Well, I was going to go back, and –“

“No way! I’m not going in that game room, or whatever it is, without you by my side,” I said to Sam.

“Marvin will guide you, and protect you,” Sam said.

“Protect me? Thanks, but no thanks!” I reached up to grab my bra from the hook. I was tired of not knowing what was going on.

Sam and Marvin tried to reassure me, and as we were discussing, who should emerge but Brad himself. He had a smile on his face. It was his after-sex silly smile, but it could just be a coincidence. However, he was also wearing a sky-blue star, pinned to his shirt, next to the naval orange star Franny had given him earlier.

I looked at Sam and also at Marvin, and I knew. It was on their faces, and on Brad’s amazingly guilty face. Something happened to me; in retrospect, as I recount what happened, I’d have to ascribe it to rage, coupled with a quest for revenge. I brushed past Brad as he stumbled with words, and I pulled open the door to the “game room,” not knowing what I’d find, other than perhaps a half-naked, or naked Angela, handing out sky-blue sexual favors to any and all comers.

Instead, everyone was fully dressed, even if none of the women wore bras under their tops. Two men were playing ping-pong, and some others were playing an indoor version of bocce. I must have looked wild-eyed, because every eye in the room focused on me for a long moment. My chest was heaving, and my bra-less boobs were doubtless somewhat visible through my sheer top, as they jiggled, enticingly.

I felt hands grabbing me from behind. The hands had slipped under my top and were moving at a deliberate pace in the direction of my boobs. I looked down at the hands and right through my sheer top I saw the rings on the right hand of my molester, and I recognized them as Marvin’s hands. I had no interest in Marvin, sexual or otherwise, but it calmed me to know who exactly was molesting me. The tenseness in my shoulders left, and my urge to scream dissipated.

Marvin’s hands found my boobs, and predictably enough went straight for my nipples. I knew this was standard behavior from my days as a single girl, before my marriage to Brad. Once Brad and I married, no man but Brad had touched me intimately. That is, no man before Marvin, who was touching me up in the here and now.

“Kiss me, Joanie.” Marvin’s words were urgently whispered into my ear. I turned around and Marvin held my head, removing his hands from my boobs in order to do so, and we kissed. We kissed, and kissed some more. In my head, I kept seeing the sky-blue star on Brad’s shirt, and as I opened my mouth to welcome Marvin’s probing tongue, my right hand dropped to the bulge in Marvin’s slacks. I sunk to my knees and fished his cock out of his pants. It was hard. It was hard for me. I’d always loved cocks that were hard, just due to an anticipation of a good time with me.

“Are you hard due to me, or is it Viagra?” I teased Marvin.

“Some of both,” Marvin replied, as I lovingly fondled his rather thick cock with my hands.

“You have a nice cock,” I said, as I fondled it. That was an understatement. I had seen quite a few cocks in my escort izmir time, starting when I was 15, but never had I seen one as alluring as Marvin’s.

“Thank you. I’m told it tastes good, too,” he replied.

“I don’t do –” I began to say, but then I said to myself oh, what the fuck, and I took the head of Marvin’s cock in my mouth. I sucked him for a while, licking the sides, kissing the head, but mostly taking the top half in my mouth while my hands stroked and tugged the bottom of his stem.

After a while, Marvin pushed me away, lay me down, and pulled off my leggings and panties. I hadn’t done anything with anyone but Brad since we married, and I had only just met Marvin at the party, and what’s more he was a neighbor. As if that were not bad enough, there were around eight to ten other people there, also all neighbors, who could (and doubtless would) see us, rutting on the floor.

Only my rage at Brad let me continue. Marvin’s cock was, by far, the largest I had ever seen, let alone allowed inside me, and before I knew it, Marvin was on top of my naked body, between my legs (how and when had that happened?) and his wonderful cock was poking around, blindly searching for my entrance. To encourage its welcome inside me, no doubt, Marvin pushed up my blouse and played with my bra-less boobs.

It turns out — through no fault of mine, it’s just the way it is — rough nipple play turns me on. It does not get any rougher or more painful than it did in the hands of Marvin-the-lady-killer. As Marvin played with my nipples and kissed my abdomen erotically, my pussy moistened and began to flower, opening up in the time-honored fashion. It opened as a flower does at first morning light.

Suddenly it was easy for Marvin’s plus-sized cock to find my entrance, and he just slipped it in. Suddenly, Marvin and I, with me naked, were humping on the floor, close to the pool table. The gaming room became silent, and the only noise was the slapping of our flesh, soon accompanied by my very own fairly loud moans.

I came rather quickly, and I gave a little cry, but that did not stop Marvin, whom I was deciding had to be a reincarnation of Eros himself. Marvin was fucking me so quickly I could hardly catch my breath, yet somehow, I was moaning up a storm. I cannot remember ever having such an intense session of making love. Wow.

When Marvin drove me to my second climax a few minutes later, I really did scream. The nine other people in the game room began to applaud, which embarrassed and shamed me to the core. Finally, Marvin buried his cock inside me, stiffened, and squirted. He squirted a second time, then a third time, and then his cock twitched and he squirted a fourth time. I was so glad I had inserted my diaphragm in before the party, in case Brad had got urgently amorous, as he was wont to do, on occasion. Like tonight, for example, when Brad apparently fucked the sky-blue slut known as Angela. Remembering Brad had fucked Angela, absolved me of the intense guilt I was feeling, which just washed away, into the nearby river. Goodbye my guilt, and good riddance.

“I’m an aficionado of sloppy seconds,” Gloria’s husband Dan said.

“Good to know,” I said, lying naked on the floor, my pussy glowing orange from the recent activity, “but not tonight, thanks.”

“Maybe next time. Although if you change your mind, you’d create two men with orange stars, while Brad has only the one sky-blue star, and no offense Angela, but sky-blue is the easiest star to get,” Dan said.

“No offense taken,” Angela replied. “I know all about my slut status. A lot of girls are going to want to take Brad for a spin. He’s no Marvin, but he’s a great fuck. That’s for sure.”

Angela’s words revived my rage. Marvin had helped my rage to dissipate, via his great, or might I say spectacular, fuck, but Angela’s words brought it all back. It was only later that it occurred to me perhaps this was all choreographed. Upon reflection, they may have been hoping for a gangbang of epic proportions.

That realization was too late, however, since Angela’s words enraged me to the point where I took Dan’s hand, and pulled his willing body down onto the floor next to me. I didn’t say a word, I just let his body fall between my two legs that I had spread wide, just in the nick of time. “It’ll be easier if you undress, Dan,” I said, as he played with my boobs.

Dan is a cooperative sort of guy, and he got naked in an Indiana minute, which is, sadly, quite a bit slower than a New York minute. However, he was good and hard, I’ll give him that, ’cause if you’re gonna fool around with a guy, it’s always nice if he’s already hard. He wasn’t huge, like Marvin, but hey, I’d already been there, done that, and I was sure Dan could get the job done.

It turns out that my intuition about Dan was one hundred percent, completely, totally, correct. Quite a bit of moaning on my part, and a little screaming (especially after three of the guys lifted me onto the pool table, and then Dan resumed his missionary position, and we were once again off to the races, this time on full display to the entire game room, as all the men and even the women watched my young, lithe body squirm in the exquisite pleasure of hugely erotic sex.

Some men hate sloppy seconds, but all women, if they can handle the psychology of getting fucked back-to-back by two different guys, and at the same time being watched by the neighbors, love it when a man takes sloppy seconds. Having already climaxed twice with Marvin, everything about Dan’s fuck was that much more intense.

Plus, and this is just me, I got off on the outrageous sluttiness of letting two men fuck me, back-to-back like that. The fact that I was married, and neither man was my husband, and that my husband was far away yet there at the same party, and that I had just met the two men, and that I was moaning and eventually screaming at the top of my lungs so that Brad could almost certainly hear me, and that I was being watched while in the most intimate situation imaginable, just made it even more erotic. But hey — that’s just me.

More men wanted to earn an orange star with me, but I was played out. Only Marvin, Dan, and of course my cheating husband Brad would have the “honor” of wearing an orange star in the future. I didn’t care what woman had seduced my sleazy husband Dan, but anyway I knew: His star was sky-blue, so it had to be the self-described slut Angela. It sure didn’t take him long to cheat on me!

Franny had finished making more orange stars, and she ceremoniously gave them to my two new paramours. We dressed, and the three of us left the game room, Marvin with his arm around me all the way to my boob, which he was squeezing; and Dan with his hand on my ass, squeezing it as though my ass cheeks were the incarnation of tension squeeze balls.

The party was in full swing. Sam saw the smiles on the faces of Marvin and Dan, and she checked out their proudly worn stars, and saw that for each man, one of his many stars was orange. She looked at me with newfound respect. I was positively glowing from all of my exquisite sexual activity.

“We heard screams coming from the game room. They were good screams. I guess that was you?” Sam asked.

I bashfully looked at the floor, and said nothing. “It was her,” Marvin volunteered, making me blush. “You know how it is.”

“That I do; that I most certainly do,” Sam said, as she put her finger under my chin, raising my tear-filled eyes to meet her own.

Brad came over to me. I was terrified. What I had just done to our marriage was just beginning to dawn on me. “This is a great party, isn’t it? What a great group of people!” Brad said.

“I see you have a sky-blue star,” I said, and as I looked for it, I discovered a fire-engine red star next to it. I relaxed. Brad, my stud husband, had laid two of the women of Park Lane the first time he had met them? Whoa. “And a red one,” I added.

“Yes,” he began. “Angela and Sylvie. Sylvie is French; her husband is Philippe. Have you met them, yet?”

“No, not yet, but I look forward to meeting them. Maybe Philippe would like an orange star to add to his collection?” I said, looking right into the eyes of my darling, loving husband. “Two can play at this game, Brad,” I added.

“I heard your screams,” Joanie. “I guess the two men drove you to orgasms. Lucky you. I saw that Marvin and Dan were all over you. I’ll check their stars later.”

“You’ll find they both have orange stars. You inspired me, my big handsome, philandering husband,” I said.

“Do you hate me?” we both said at once. Then Brad laughed, and I giggled.

“Take me home, Brad, and reclaim me. I’ve never had three lovers in one evening, even before we were married,” I said.

“Does that include that time at the beach you told me of?” Brad asked.

“Yes. Yes, it does. Reclaim me, Brad. Make me your own again, and I’ll try my best to give you reason not to stray.”


I gave Brad damn good reason not to stray, but he gradually, over the next couple of years, acquired quite a collection of stars, nevertheless. Only Marvin, Dan, and of course Brad wore the orange star, however. I didn’t become a good, loyal wife; it was just that I went off birth control, and I wanted to be sure — damn sure — that Brad would be the father of whatever baby I produced. We had a boy, and he looked just like Brad.

I was quite relieved, and ready to tout the effectiveness of condoms, since while Brad was winning new stars from the amazingly slutty women of Park Lane, I was secretly getting paroxysms of orgiastic pleasure from both Marvin and Dan. We just got it on while Brad was — shall we say — otherwise distracted. I figured three men on Park Lane with orange stars was enough, at least for now. So I kept my cheating to Dan and Marvin.

Everyone loved our baby, and when the other women crudely asked who the father was, I always gave the same answer: “My husband Brad, of course. Unless it’s Marvin or Dan.” This was invariably greeted with a delightful bout of knowing giggles. I’m going to like living on Park Lane. Some of my other male neighbors keep hinting that they too would love to sport an orange star. Maybe two more of them will? It’s always hard to predict the future, but I hear Gloria is throwing her annual party, again this year, and I got back on the pill for the occasion.

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