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11 Years Later
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11 Years Later Those heady days of thrice-a-day sex weren't to last, as one would be able guess. Marriage took a bit of the edge out of sex, and once were born, the sex dried up completely. However, unlike many couples, my wife and I were always able to talk to each other about sex and our desires. For instance, we both knew that much of her lack of desire could be traced to sexual abuse she'd suffered in her teens. We tried some therapy, and it was only somewhat successful and for only a short time. We were still happy, but somewhat frustrated at our lack of sex. Then came that night during our eleventh year of marriage where we were talking about our situation once again. There was a moment where she sighed and said, "I just don't know what else we can do." I took that as my chance to say, "We could try swinging." I explained the options open to us, since I'd been aware of swinging for a long time, originally trying hook-up with couples back when I was in college, using the original swinger's magazines (some of you remember those, I'm sure - black and white ads that looked like they were created on a copier). She thought about it a moment but answered, "No...I don't think I could," and I backed off and told her we can just leave it open as an option. She smiled and shrugged. It must have sat in her mind like a burr sits beneath a saddle. A couple weeks later, she came to me and said simply, "OK, let's do it - swinging. What do we do first?" I tried not too look TOO excited about her question, but we began to research our options. One of the first was to take a bunch of photos of ourselves and join FriendFinder-x, as well as a bunch of other swinger's sites. In 2001, there were fewer sites, making it pretty easy to identify the good ones and the less than good ones. Through some connections we made via email, we discovered in our town that there were 3 main swingers clubs and we figured that would be the easiest way to dip our feet into that pool. The first club we went to was a weekend-only affair that required a 5 drink minimum and a hefty entrance fee. It seemed the classiest, so we gave it a try first. The owners worked the door and they would pair-up waiting couples and show them to a table. It was not an on-premise club, but the dance floor would writhe with bodies in all kinds of congress with clothes becoming fewer and fewer as the night went on. By the end of the night, ad-hoc<b> parties </font></b>were arranged and groups of people left to re-join each other at a local hotel or someone's home. It was on that dance floor that we had our first taste of swapping when a couple approached us and we took each other's partner for a dance. We danced beside each other in the middle of the floor, grinding and touching. My partner and myself were mesmerized watching my wife and her toy touching each other with abandon. My wife had worn a loose-fitting top and (as usual) no bra, so his hands had happily found her breasts desiring his touch. She had also worn a short black skirt with silk panties that he had no problem sliding his hand inside-of to pleasure her as they swayed. I glanced at my partner and her eyes were wide watching the show beside us. My hands slid across her body as well, but she was well-encased in a tight bodysuit that, while showing off her amazing body, allowed no similar access that my wife's partner enjoyed. So I slid around behind her, pointing her at the scene before us and I cupped a breast through the bodysuit and lightly slid my hand over her mound. Happily, she pushed my hand harder into her sex as my wife's head fell against her partner's chest and her mouth hung open in extreme pleasure. It was plain she was climaxing on the dance floor in front of us.  My wife's eyes suddenly snapped back open as she gasped for breath and she smiled broadly at us, and then kissed her partner openly on the mouth while stroking his obviously hard cock through his slacks. My partner turned around and smiled at me and offered a wet kiss before she rejoined her husband. My wife draped a languid hand over my shoulder, laughing huskily at what she'd just done amidst the moving mass of sexuality on that dance floor. I remember-well the song that was playing as I watched my wife being pleasured by another man. It was Creed's "With Eyes Wide Open" and damn if I can listen to that song any more without getting a hard-on. |
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