The Family Swappers book One

Chapter 1

Erick pulled he young maid down with him into the tall willowy grass of the sand dune. He'd carried her far enough away so that he knew they would not be disturbed, and the fact that she had come with him made him know that he could do what he wanted with her. Not that he hadn't really known that all along. There were few maids who cared to resist him for one reason or another, and the reason was usually that he knew just how to get to them. He'd been watching this one ever since she came to the house. She was his sister-in-law Sylvie's personal maid.

And because Sylvie gave her little to do, it appealed to him to take up a little of the young servant girl's time. She was not more than 19, dark haired and freckle-faced. What a little beauty. He'd gotten her out of the house in her full maid's regalia, that ridiculous gray and white outfit with the ruffled apron in front just like some old fashioned French maid. Erick knew that it was his mother, Thelma, who insisted that all the family servants dress this way, even though she had her own town house in Grandville and only came out to the nearby shore from time to time to check up on what was going on.

Erick pushed himself down over the faintly struggling girl's body and kissed first the nape of her neck, and then started pulling away the top of her uniform. It was easy enough to pull the zipper down and to spread the front of it so that he could touch and kiss her pale freckled shoulder. She giggled and protested, but his hands sought out the small round orbs of her breasts, beneath the prim little brassiere that she wore.

Christ, he hadn't been with a girl who wore a brassiere in so long, it felt positively wicked! Suddenly, he knelt up and pulled her up to her knees in front of him.

"Beautiful!" he cried, "you're exquisite!"

"Mr. Cassidy… Oh… please…!" The maid, Ella, was blushing and looking down into the sand before them. She wanted to run away, but yet she knew she couldn't. At the same time, she felt flattered that Erick Cassidy had been paying all this attention to her. For the past two weeks now he had been whispering compliments into her ear whenever he saw her about the house, and now today what with everyone gone and the others either resting in the blockade of rooms reserved for the servants or gone to town themselves for the day, and Mrs. Cassidy up in her room, he'd found her and taken her out to walk on the beach.

Ella thought about the letter she'd been writing to her boy friend in the Army. When he returned they would be married. How wonderful that she had not gotten pregnant in spite of having given into him the night before his departure for Vietnam. She was not pregnant and no one would know of the evil thing she had done. It had, after all, been very quick, and she'd scarcely felt a thing, except the initial pain and then a few quick thrusts and she'd waited and then Johnny told her that it was over. Erick Cassidy had told her she could finish writing the letter later, that a beautiful day like today wouldn't wait for them to enjoy it, and now here she was.

He was so strong… so good looking and his fingers seemed to burn her skin wherever he touched her. He was like a young god kneeling before her, and she felt unaccountably lowly and ashamed in his presence. She also felt a strength of emotion at his insistent nearness, his touching and his kissing that she could not remember ever feeling with her boy friend, Johnny. She felt herself beginning to tremble even though the sun was very warm as Erick began to peel away her uniform. Bit by bit it was being taken off of her there in broad daylight. Even though there was no one about for miles she seemed to feel eyes on her.

Everyone would see her, know what she had done. But she remained limp, unable to understand why she did not stop the young master of the house. He was famous… they were all famous and they brought all those wonderful people she had only seen in magazines to the house, and now she was here alone with him, and he wanted to be with her!

Erick's hands smoothed downward pushing her short dress down along her torso until it rode around the young girl's full rounded hips. Then he pulled it all the way down treating his eyes to her blushing beauty, her almost schoolgirl attitude as her semi-nakedness was revealed bit by bit to his lusting eyes. Soon she was wearing nothing but stockings and panties and her high heeled pumps. Her dark curly hair blew in the wind as ashamed, the young girl avoided his stare. The soft nakedly trembling protusions of her breasts now freed from the enclosing fabric of her cotton brassiere seemed to be just waiting for Erick's lips to take the brown nipples in like ripe berries that he would suck for a long while.

Erick ran his hands up the length of Ella's calves, letting the thin skin of her nylon stockings sing beneath his fingers until he touched the nakedness of her fully rounded thins and then her panties and then her small waist. He hooked his thumbs in at the top of her panties and pulled them down exposing a gently rounded belly with deeply inset navel and then as he continued rolling the nylon material, the dark twining curls of the servant girl's pussy hair became evident.

"Ah!" Erick cried, feeling his hunger for the little teen-ager mounting by the second. Ella squirmed and began to whimper. "No… no… oh, pleassseee don't, Mr. Cassidy!"

But they both knew that it was too late for that sort of thing and she did not protest as he slid down both her panties and stockings which were attached together by snaps.

Ella felt cold now that she was naked and she felt her entire body begin to quake. Erick had replaced her high heels upon her naked feet and she felt utterly strange… dreamlike, sitting there in the sand with him like that. She felt it couldn't be really happening to her, and yet she knew it was, and Erick Cassidy was undressing in front of her, moving with an urgency that frightened her. His hard and muscular body stood tensed and naked before her within seconds and she found herself staring at the hard-up-thrusting weapon of his penis. It was long and fiercely red, the bloated tip fully emerged from the thick foreskin as the sturdy vein covered shaft bobbed expectantly before her.

The teen-aged girl uttered a cry, her eyes big as saucers as she stared mesmerized at the lewd sight of her employer's masculinity.

"Like it?" Erick inquired, his voice thick with lust as he moved toward her.

The snow white curtains billowed inward as the sea breeze blew against them, and Sylvie lay on her side in bed watching the clear blue sky that showed through the open glass panes. She could feel the emptiness of the big house downstairs, and the vast upstairs bedrooms that flanked hers were empty, tool she knew. The young woman sighed and turned over on her back staring up now at the unmarred surface of the high white ceiling above her. Her long blonde hair lay spread behind her on the pillow creating a frame for her softly availed face with its finely chiseled features. In her white cotton beach robe, a long, simply cut gown that covered her swim-suit clad nakedness beneath, Sylvie looked like a fairy-tale princess come to life. It was a look that her husband had loved in her, that he had in fact required of her.

"You'd look just perfect in the oval room of the White House!" he'd told her once, "and I intend to see you there often!"

Sylvie could feel her heart beating, and could hear the inner sound of her blood rushing through her veins, pounding at her temples.

"I should have gone with him!" she said suddenly out loud, her voice breaking into the lazy silence of the room. Sylvie sat up and moved toward the door. She couldn't stand a moment longer in the room alone.

It was too dreadful having Tim away… hundreds of miles away from her. She couldn't even stand to imagine him, speaking to all those people campaigning in all those small towns in the northern part of the state. She knew what it was like to see all those faces turned toward you, some with admiration, but others with suspicion and curiosity.

That feeling of being touched, clutched at as she walked through the density of the crowds, or passed them in a slow motorcade. Tim Cassidy was not even Senator yet, but the crowd sensed that he soon would be … that they in effect would be the ones to elect him and see that he got the position. From District Attorney of Grandville to Senator was not an unusual step, but for such a young man, and so good-looking… it was exceptional. They knew a winner when they saw one, all right!

That was the feeling throughout the state, and with the election a few short months away the campaign was in full swing.

Slyvie's long, tanned legs felt just a bit unsteady as she hurried down the stairs. Somewhere in a separate part of the house there were servants, and she fervently hoped they would remain there. She did not want to have to face another one of them that day. She knew that behind their pleasant subservient expressions they were watching her coldly, probably thinking dreadful things about her. She was sure that they talked about her, too… that they probably knew that Tim hadn't touched her in weeks. Servants always knew such things, of that she was sure.

Sylvie felt a familiar aching in her loins as she walked barefoot across the tiled terrace after traversing the big heavily furnished living room. The tiles were burning hot from the August sun and she ran to reach the smooth grassy lawn that continued for a way behind the house and finally turned into the tall grass of the dunes that signaled she had arrived at the beach. She looked back at the big sprawling house. The Family "Meetingplace" the papers called it, and of course they were right. At any one time it was not unusual for the house to be filled with not only Tim and herself, but Tim's two bachelor brothers, Ron and Erick, and their various school buddies and girl friends…

Not to mention the mother of them all, Thelma Cassidy, who was apt to pop in for a week's stay with her sons at any moment.

It was nothing at all like ordinary married life, Sylvie thought for the millionth time as she felt her feet sinking into the sand which was hot, but not unbearably so. The house was comparatively empty now. Only Erick, the youngest of the three brothers was around somewhere, Ron, the middle brother, having gone along on the trip with Tim, in his capacity as campaign manager. It was a tight knit little family, and sometimes Sylvie wondered if she would ever really fit into it. She felt she stuck out like a sore thumb, and on more than one occasion each member of the family let her know that so far she was not working out as they had hoped when she married Tim in a glittering ceremony only a year before.

Tim, too, had told her of this, and they had had a bigger argument than usual just before his departure for this upstate swing. He had counted on her coming. "Those housewives up there want to see what my wife looks like," he'd yelled at her, "and there's a bunch of school children in Middleton waiting to present you with flowers or something … What do you mean, you can't come?"

"I just can't, Tim… not this time… I just have to stay home this time!" That was what she had told him, and finally it had been arranged that she would stay. She'd seen him and his brother, Ron, off at the airport, and all the cameras had filmed her smiling and radiant as usual, and she'd returned to the real emptiness of her life.

Ron had told her with a terse smile before dying her a peck on the cheek, "This state is dying to elect a Senator that looks like he really gets laid, baby, and you're our ticket to ride. Get some rest and shape up, huh?"

The words still burned like hot coals in her mind, even now as she walked along the waters edge, the water from the bay spraying at her toes, and her long dress whipping against the smooth curvaceous contours of her body, outlining the details of her firm breasts, and the sensuous line of her hips and thighs. They were all counting heavily on the young sexy image of the family to appeal to the hearts and minds of the populace. The current State Senator was a diligent and much revered white haired gentleman, but his advanced age was not working for him in this election. Sylvie knew from what the columnists wrote about her that she was very much in favor not only with the press but with the average man on the street as well. Her husband Tim and his brother Ron would often gloat over some particularly favorable article about her, as though it had nothing to do with her. The way she looked was 90 percent of it, and she was born that way, tall and well proportioned, with a natural poise that announced that she was happy in her own skin. Beneath the femininity of her appearance, one guessed at a healthy athleticism that marked her as a true American girl.

Photos of Sylvie Cassidy playing tennis or water skiing were freely circulated throughout the nation, and she was heralded as the most photogenic news item since Jackie Kennedy was in the White House. It was not truly easy for Sylvie to endure the meetings with newspaper men, or the full day type interviews with TV reporters such as Rady Walters of the Good Morning Show, but somehow her winning smile and seemingly self-assured manner got her through every time. No one ever guessed at her deep dissatisfaction… no one that is but her husband and his brothers. As for Tim's mother, Thelma, she had known right away and had opposed the marriage from the very beginning, warning her son that Sylvie might look like first lady caliber, but in essence was still nothing but a "shop-keeper's daughter from the sticks". There was a thinly disguised hatred between the two women that went far beyond the ordinary friction between mother-in-law and wife.

Sylvie stopped and looked around her. There was nothing but clear sky with little puffs of white clouds here and there, the calm of the ocean and the sandy beach stretching for miles in each direction. She had already gone a great distance from the house, and it was a small speck on the horizon… Already she felt relieved, and she lifted her slender arms and pulled her beach robe up over her head, revealing the splendor of her long full thighs, then the large vee of her white bikini briefs that just barely covered the secret triangle of her hidden pussy in front, and in back showed the top of the deep cleft of Sylvie's dimpled buttocks. Her bare midriff appeared, and finally, the twin mounds of her gently quivering breasts cupped underneath in the white cloth of her bathing suit top. It was a bathing suit that Tim had forbidden her to wear, even at times when she was sure she would not be seen, like now. Cameras with telescopic lenses were forever lurking in the most unexpected places, he warned, and besides, I don't want anyone to know that you are that good-looking.

The flattering remark had made Sylvie want to do as Tim asked she recalled now, as she flaunted her near nakedness to the winds of the sea. But if he thought she was so beautiful, why didn't he show more interest in her himself? She had deliberately decided to wear the suit today, as though by doing so she might get back at him for his lack of desire for her neglected body. Even with a schedule as hectic as her husband's Sylvie knew that there was always a little bit of time for loving. She remembered well the times when they were first married when Tim would never tire of her, and his strong brown body would gather her softness into him again and again morning, noon and night, and she would wrap her trembling legs thirstily around his back, accepting his nakedness against her willingly wide held thighs, feeling the hardness of his rampant cock insinuating itself deep, deep into her womanly cunt, worming ever upward until she could hardly breath it felt so good!

Sylvie took a deep breath now, her entire body remembering, wanting to feel him again between her legs, to know the thrilling weight of him over her, crushing her breasts back against her chest. A violent thrill raced through her belly, culminating among the softly throbbing folds of her tenderly nestled golden-fringed pussy in a wrench of yearning that was so intense it made her cry out. A sea gull looked at her curiously and she continued her slow paced walking along the edge of the surf, feeling filled with desire that she knew could not be fulfilled for at least two days when her husband would return to the family house. And even then, Sylvie was not certain that she would be able to focus her ambitious Senator-to-be's attention sufficiently upon her neglected charms to bring about the love-making that she needed.

The whole thing made her so sad that the bright sea-scape before her blurred as she felt tears coming to her eyes.

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into…" her father had said when she had announced to him that she and Tim Cassidy would marry.

"Of course, Dad!" she'd replied impatiently. She was looking forward to the excitement of it all, and then just going on 23, she felt fully capable of handling whatever the future had in store for her. Just out of college, she'd been working a year in the State Capitol, in Tim Cassidy's office. Her pay was nominal but the glamour of working in the District Attorney's office had more than made up for that. It was easy to share an apartment with one of her fellow workers and to get by in the big city on her salary. Her father, of course, had never really forgiven her for not taking him up on his offer to come work at the department store in the small town of Tillings where she had been brought up. He had visualized that one day she would succeed him as head of the store, a position which held a great deal of prestige in Tillings.

Sylvie bent to pick up a sea shell, and nearby saw others that she liked even better. She began to collect them, trying to ignore the straining, hollow sensation in her loins that had begun to plague her.

She had thought she knew what she was getting into. Tim had carefully explained to her that it would be difficult, that his work schedule would be three times that of any ordinary husband, that she herself would be expected to show a perfection that most wives would find impossible, that her own duties would grow as his position in the state and perhaps later in the country grew. Her words in public would always have to be perfectly measured so that they would never reflect poorly upon him, or betray a political stance that was not correct.

"Oh, yes… Tim… I'm up to it!" she'd replied and then later, in his arms, she'd been certain of it, more certain than ever. "Oh, yes, yes, yes!!" she'd cried as his sweating nakedness glistened against hers, their bodies slipping and sliding against each other, tormenting and fulfilling each lustful request the other had; Tim's rock-hard penis thrusting high into her tightly clenching, smoothly gyrating cunt.

Never once had she envisioned the loss of those carnal joys with her ardent young husband. Never had she thought about what it would be like to have to be perfect and follow all those rigid schedules without the dark tangle of his limbs with hers to bolster each day and give her strength for any task.

She had never suspected that the cool hostility of her 36 year old husband's younger brothers would disturb her so, or that they could be so cruel to the woman that their brother had selected to marry. The frosty exchanges with her mother-in-law might have been tolerable were it not for the fact that her husband in every instance advised her to give in to the older woman, and more than once told her point blank that Thelma was right, and she was wrong. Daily, since the long arduous campaign for Senator had begun, Sylvie had grown more and more disillusioned with the powerful machine that was thrusting her husband into office. The ideals that Tim had seemed to stand for were turning into nothing but political fodder for the machine, and Sylvie herself was sometimes doubtful about her own motivations, or just what her real feelings were on what the newspapers called "the pertinent issues".

In private Tim showed a good humor toward his two brothers' blatantly uncaring attitudes toward such issues as the labor movement, the poor, the blacks, and corporate mergers. They planned their campaign for Tim so as to carefully avoid stepping on the wrong toes, and they were willing to wheel and deal at almost any cost to get the votes. Sylvie often had to contain herself as her husband accepted yet another deal that Ron had set up by giving his ruthless brother a pat on the back.

As for Erick, the youngest, he too was a lawyer, or at least had an office in Grandville and his name up on the door with Ron's, but as for practicing, Sylvie had never known him to spend more than a few days a week at the office. The playboy of the family, he was more content with enjoying the privileges of the family money. (Thelma Cassidy had married Jenson Cassidy, the now deceased oil millionaire some 50 years before.) And he made it a point to date some of the prettiest starlets that Hollywood had to offer. Sylvie had met many of them and had been curiously unimpressed by their beautiful faces and their outsized measurements. She had tried to get Tim to ask his little brother Erick to refrain from going into sordid and crude details about his love life with her, but Tim had told her not to be a prude and to humor Erick by listening politely. Nevertheless, Sylvie found the young 23 year old to be the most odious person she had ever met, and she despised the very sight of him, with his casual good looks, his blonde hair, just like his older brother Tim and Ron's difficult to keep combed, always falling attractively in his eyes.

And that horrible way he had of coming up to her from behind and whispering into her ear.

"Know something?" he confided, cheerfully, "Jill Jamison sucks cock like a real trooper. Had to finally jerk it out of her mouth before there was nothing left of it!"

This was a typical lewd statement, and Sylvie felt a ripple of revulsion as she thought of it and other equally untoward remarks the youngest brother of the "clan" had made to her in reference to his latest conquest.

Sylvie turned and walked higher onto the dunes, still walking away from the house. She hoped to walk until sundown, when she could at last count the long day as being officially over. The following day she had several appointments and then the day after that, Tim would come back home again.