So when I saw The Corporation’s ad looking for volunteers I was happy to sign up.  They didn’t call it “time travel,” but that’s what it was.  A handful of people were going to be sent to another era.  They wouldn’t be able to come back.  Only a few people would be selected because they wanted to examine the impact over time.

There were so many appealing years to choose from, but they were only selecting one person for each era to prevent overlap.  I chose to apply for a decade that I assumed wouldn’t have as many applicants.  With the non-stop partying, the promiscuity, and the appreciation for slick dance moves, I knew the 1970s would be perfect for me!

On the day I went back they hooked me up with some period-appropriate clothing and haircut.  Unfortunately, they wouldn’t let me take a sports almanac so I could make some wagers, but I memorized a few results and enough about the stock market to set myself up nicely.  They took me to an older building and hooked me up to some fancy machinery.  Then they gave me a sedative and soon I was fast asleep.

When I woke up I was in the same room, but the bed was different and the walls were a different color.  The fancy machinery was gone.  I was surrounded by some scientist types with seventies hair and mustaches.  I had grown a pretty sweet mustache myself in anticipation of my adventure.  I assumed at least one of the scientists was originally from my area and had been sent back to build a team and set up a facility with The Corporation’s money.

The head guy gave me a quick medical exam.  When he was satisfied they sent me on my way with a handful of greenbacks, a fake passport and driver’s license, a map of the city, and handwritten directions to the apartment they’d rented in my name.  Of course, there were not any ridesharing apps in 1977, so I walked a few blocks until I could hail a cab.  I got in and gave the driver the address.  Fortunately, he knew the area since he certainly didn’t have a smartphone or Google maps.

The apartment wasn’t fancy, but it had a prime location near some nightlife and it was furnished with the basics.  I had a bedroom, a dining room, cookware, dishes, toiletries, and a seating area facing a cube-shaped television.  I didn’t bother turning it on to see what was on the three or four channels I could pick up with the attached antenna.  

Another man might have worried about his finances or bought some groceries, but I’m only good at two things--dancing and screwing--and I was eager to do both.  I was in a time before the biggest public health concerns and the futile war on drugs.  I’d come to the 1970s in order to live it up.

First, I needed to get some new threads.  The Corporation’s clothing had me looking like Burt Reynolds trying to outrun Smokey.  I wanted to look like Travolta trying to dance his way out of Bay Ridge.

It was easy enough to find the right shops. This was before the takeover of the big box store.  There were boutiques on every corner.

Back at my apartment, I got dressed for a night on the town.  I showered, shaved, and slapped on an ample dose of my newly purchased Hai Karate aftershave. I slid on my nut-hugging sky blue Jockey briefs and white slacks that were so tight that a blind person could see my ample bulge.  My shirt was black silk with huge lapels and unbuttoned to show off my chest.  My white vest and blazer matched my slacks and my zip-up heeled ankle boots were made of shiny black leather.  

I used the blow dryer to perfectly shape my coiffure and to fluff the big patch of chest hair sticking out of my open shirt. I combed my mustache and put on a big medallion on a gold chain.  I knew the outfit alone was going to make the ladies weak in the knees.  And my moves on the dance floor would melt the elastic in their panties.

Finding a disco in 1977 wasn’t a challenge.  There were a lot of chumps in line looking like they’d raided John Denver’s closet for clothes, but when the bouncer saw me I was beckoned right on in.  No doubt the man recognized class.  I grabbed a drink from the bartender and waited for my moment to hit the floor.

I didn’t look for a partner.  I’ve never been the type of creeper who sneaks up on a woman dancing alone and tries to make a move.  Plus, I was certain the party would come to me.  

I started at the side of the floor.  I moved my hips with the music.  My feet took over. Gradually, I moved to the center of the floor. I did the hustle.  I did the bump.  I did the bus stop.  By the time I got to the point move, all eyes were on me.  I even slipped in a little funky chicken.  

I was feeling the groove and in my own world.  I didn’t bother scoping the room for women.  It was Debbie who first approached me.  She was petite with platinum blond hair wearing heels and a purple glitter dress with one strap over her right shoulder.

We danced to ABBA, KC and the Sunshine Band, and the Spinners.  Debbie was digging my moves.  I was digging everything about her.

“You dance so well!” she told me.

“It’s the second-best thing I do,” I told her.

“And what’s the first?” she asked flirtatiously.

“Let’s just say my best moves are best enjoyed in private,” I responded.

“Maybe you can show them to me one day,” she said.

“There is no time like the present.”

Debbie took my hand and started walking toward the door. Off to the side, I saw another woman approaching us.  She had dark skin, an afro, and a curvy body.  She was wearing a button-down denim mini-skirt and a silky red floral shirt tied in a knot to show off her midriff.  

“Are you leaving me here alone?” she asked Debbie.  

“Yes, we’re going back to Rex’s place.  He wants to show me some moves in private, Pam.”

“You’re my ride home,” Pam responded.  “You can’t just leave me here.”

“You can take me keys,” Debbie said.

“Or you can just come with us,” I interjected.

I’d seen Pam watching me dance.  I knew she was probably envious that her friend approached me first.

Debbie shifted her weight and made a show of being impatient.

“Well, Pam.  Do you want my keys or are you coming?” she demanded.

“I’m coming!” Pam answered.

“Not yet you aren’t,” I said.  “But you will be soon!”

Back at my place, I carefully hung my blazer and vest on the coat rack.  I gave Pam and Debbie a quick tour that rushed through the kitchen and living area and ended in my bedroom.

There was a hi-fi stereo set up on a dresser.  I told Debbie to find some music.  She found a station playing Donna Summer and the three of us danced at the foot of my bed.  I had a few moves left in my reservoir to impress the ladies, but I was really more interested in showing them my horizontal bop.

I wrapped my arm around Debbie first and gave her a deep kiss.  

“You’re next, sugar,” I told Pam.

Neither lady objected as I switched my attention to Pam.  I dipped her in my arms and laid one on her.  I stepped back and pointed at both ladies with my index fingers.

“Now you two kiss,” I said.

They hesitated just for a moment.  I got the feeling that they’d never kissed each other, but they’d both been around the block a time or two.  Pam took the lead.  She held petite, little Debbie in her arms and slipped her tongue into Debbie’s mouth.

“Damn!” I exclaimed.  “The seventies!”

The women gave me a puzzled look, but they didn’t think about it for too long. They went right back to kissing one another.  My hard cock strained against the thin fabric of my white trousers.

I approached Debbie from behind.  I slid my hand up her fit thighs and under her dress.  She wasn’t wearing any panties.  

Her pussy was hot and slick.  She was easy to penetrate.  I slipped two fingers inside.  She groaned as I built up a rhythm.

“What about me?” Pam pouted.

She pulled away from Debbie and faced the bed.  She slid her denim skirt up to show off her black panties.  She pulled the knot on her shirt and her gorgeous, big ebony tits spilled out.  Pam spread her legs and grabbed the footboard of the bed.

I nodded in her direction.  Debbie understood what I wanted.  

She pushed Pam’s skirt all the way up.  Then she pulled her panties to the side to expose her puckered pussy lips.

“Continue,” I told her.

Debbie gave Pam’s plump ass a squeeze.  She playfully jiggled it.  Then she spread her legs further apart so I could see that beautiful pussy.  Pam arched her back to give me a better view.

Debbie ran her finger around Pam’s pussy.  It definitely wasn’t her first time.  Her fingertips danced up and down and around.  She brushed Pam’s clit.

Pam’s breathing was heavy in anticipation.   I rubbed Debbie’s pussy.  It was dripping.

Debbie pushed her finger into Pam’s pussy.  

“That’s a good girl,” I said.

Pam’s pussy gripped Debbie’s finger.  She rubbed my cock with her other hand.  I watched her finger fuck her friend.  She went in and out with one finger and then two.

Her other hand squeezed my dick.  She pulled me to her.  

“Take it out,” she commanded.

Pam moaned loudly.  Debbie put a third finger in her pussy.

I unzipped, wiggled my tight trouser down, then pulled down my briefs.  I knew Debbie was pleased by the site of my big dick.

The two women moved in rhythm.  Pam rocked her hips back and forth as Debbie fingered her.

I was rock hard just from watching the two of them.  

Pam froze for a second. Her moans got louder.  She clamped her pussy on Debbie’s fingers.  She practically roared as she climaxed.

I pulled the zipper on Debbie’s dress so she could get out of it.  She was completely naked except for her glitter-covered heels.  

“In the bed. On your back,” I told her.

She laid with her legs spread.  Pam was waiting for my directions.  I helped her out of her remaining clothing.  

“Eat that pussy,” I told her.

She didn’t protest.  On her hands and knees, she got between her friend’s thighs.  Her big ass was in the air just teasing me.

I didn’t tease her clit.  I didn’t play around.  I just buried my big dick in her.  My fat cock head breached her cunt.  She fingered her friend and licked her clit.  

The three of us moved as one.  Pam’s big tits swung wildly as I slammed into her.  Debbie’s smaller tits bounced with each thrust.

I reached around and rubbed Pam’s clitoris.  I pumped my dick into her.  Debbie came first.  With Pam’s face in her pussy she cried out with delight.

That was all I could take.  I grunted and erupted inside of Pam.  

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.  “Don’t stop.”

I rubbed her clit frantically.  I fucked her harder, even as my cock started to soften.  Her second orgasm was louder than her first.  She bucked her body back into me and took every drop of my load.

“That was something,” Debbie said after.

I was naked in between the two of them in my bed.  We smoked cigarettes inside because it was 1977 and that’s just what people did.  

“That was just the opener,” I promised the two ladies.  “Which one of you wants to straddle my face for a mustache ride?”

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