Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Swinging Twins


Summary: Swinging adventure of twin sisters with unexpected outcomes.


Keywords: inc,fic





   ONE

   I hate happy hours.  They're noisy, crowded, and filled with the kind of
office workers I prefer to get away from after leaving the office.  As a
senior manager I need to occasionally accept my team's invitation to join
them on Friday evenings, so I deliberately arrived half an hour late and
walked straight up to the bar.

   "What can I get ya?" asked the flustered barman.

   "O'Doul's, please.  In a glass, not a bottle." He gave me a knowing
smile and poured the tasteless non-alcoholic beer.  Glass in hand, I joined
my team and to all appearances I was drinking with them.  My admin
assistant once told me that I was considered to be the only cool boss in
the company because the other managers at my level either abstained
completely, or they attended every happy hour and dominated the events.

   There were fifteen of us around the table, and after listening to twenty
minutes of inane office gossip I felt a slap on my back, and heard a
slurred "Wassup, dude?" behind me.

   "Dave, good to see you!" I turned back to my team and said "Hey, guys,
will you excuse me for a few minutes?  Seems the finance department needs
our help again." There was mild laughter from my IT team, and I quickly
stood, and he pointed at the only empty booth in the place.  Dave was the
Financial Director, a manager at the same level as me.  And he was my
brother-in-law.

   "Where's your team?" I asked, assuming he'd also been invited to happy
hour.

   "They left.  It's month-end and most of them have to work tomorrow."
Dave was obviously several drinks into the evening, and was unsteady on his
legs as we approached the table.

   "How's Maureen?" I asked as we sat.  He looked down, didn't answer. 
Dave's wife and my wife, Debbie, were twins.  In appearance, and judged by
their very close relationship, they were typical identical twins.  They had
an almost telepathic communication and I always had the impression that
they shared dark secrets.

   Yet the two were so very different in other ways that it was hard to
imagine them growing up in the same home.  Debbie was the epitome of an
upper class breeding - yet it always puzzled me that Maureen had gone off
the rails in her youth, picked up bad habits and worse men, and only
cleaned up her act when she and Deb were in college together.

   The fact that Dave and I worked together was sheer coincidence.  Five
years ago his company had acquired the firm I worked for.  "Everything okay
with you guys?" I signaled to a server and ordered a single malt for
myself, and a Fat Tire for Dave.

   He took a deep swig from the bottle and looked around the bar.  "Fuckin'
busy tonight!  And Jesus, does everyone talk at the same time?  Fuckin'
loud in here!"

   I was concerned by his deflection.  Was something wrong with his wife?
"Dave, is Maureen okay?  What's going on?"

   "Problems in the-in-" he hesitated.  I'd unwittingly touched a nerve. 
"Ah, fuck it, Neil - we're having bedroom problems!" He practically blurted
it out.  "I dunno - It's the work pressure, you know?" he waved his hand in
the direction of our office building.  "She's as horny as a fuckin'
teenager, but with work pressure and late hours and...God knows I'm not in
the best shape.  I dunno.  I just never have the time or the energy or the
interest.  Jesus, I shouldn't be telling you all this."

   "It's okay, bud.  My lips are sealed." I watched the ice cubes as I
swirled my single malt.  He drew a few deep breaths, took a swig of beer,
and carried on.

   "I have to give her credit - she's been really patient and she's tried
everything.  Maybe I need a testosterone shot.  Or Viagra.  Or just a
vacation.  You remember 'vacations'?'' He made quotation marks in the air.
"Maureen's even suggested we try that new club that's sprung up across the
river.  You know the one?  Near that fancy championship golf course."

   "Er-no, I don't know it.  What club is that?" In the northern Virginia
suburbs surrounding Washington, DC, "downtown" means in DC and "across the
river" means Maryland.

   Dave laughed.  "Fuck, Neil, everyone's talking about it.  But you always
were the straight arrow, weren't you?  It's a couples-only club, if ya know
wha' I mean".  He had a lecherous expression.  I still didn't know anything
about this club, though I was very intrigued.

   It was obvious that I'd be driving Dave home tonight, so I signaled for
another Fat Tire for him.  "Tell me about this place."

   "Well I heard about it, then Maureen researched it online.  Though I
think she gets more from her book club than from Google," he laughed. 
"Fuckin' book club - all they do is drink wine and eat chocolate and talk
shit about their husbands!" Another belly laugh.  "This place--it's only
for couples over 30, and it's where you go for-".  He hesitated as the
server brought his drink, and when she left he leaned over conspiratorially
and said what he thought was a whisper "It's a fuckin' wife swapping club!"

   "What?  In this area?  Nonsense!"

   "Not this area.  It's across the river," he corrected me.  "Hah - ya
think those Maryland people are all highbrow goodie goodies, like you an'
Deb?  Hah!  It's a goddam swingers club, dude, an' it's less than half an
hour from your house!  Expensive as hell and they screen you before you're
allowed to join, but so help me God, it's a swinger's club right there in
Mary-fucking-land!"

   "What's the club called, Dave?  And where is it?  What does it cost? 
How often do they..." I stopped before he picked up on my sudden interest.

   "Dream Catchers Dance and Social Club," he said.  "It's in one of those
huge houses that that backs onto the golf course.  I jus' heard that it's
expensive.  Anyway, Maureen thought that if we went there it would help me,
you know, get a bit more interested in stuff in the bedroom." He emptied
the bottle.  That was all I was going to get out of Dave, but I made a
mental note of the club's name.  It should be easy to research.  My mind
was wandering.  Debbie and I had often speculated about the swinger
lifestyle, and we'd always chickened out.

   "I tell you, Neil, it's this damned company that's doing it to me.  It's
ruining my marriage!  Do you have any idea what shit we have to put up with
during the financial year end?  And that IRS audit earlier this year. 
Christ, that almost killed me.  And it killed my sex life!  And that bitch
of a CFO--I swear, she slept her way into that job."

   He rambled about corporate issues, the tough life of a financial expert,
the unfairness of the tax laws, and occasionally threw in a reminder that
those elements had conspired to drive a wedge down the middle of his and
Maureen's marriage bed.  He went on for a half hour and two more Fat Tires,
but my mind was somewhere else.

   Debbie and I had been married for twenty years.  We were the model DINK
couple, double income no kids.  We were both business professionals.  She
was a marketing executive with an advertising agency, and I was the IT
director for the mid-sized corporation Dave and I worked for.  We didn't
draw an enormous income but ours was a decent home in an upscale
neighborhood, and we paid our bills and taxes on time.  The only thing
missing was a white picket fence.

   She and I were sexually compatible, though our day-to-day bedroom life
was frankly quite boring except for one saving grace.  For as long as we've
been together we've had a tendency to do something crazy and out of
character every few months.  It would usually be a spontaneous escapade,
often after a few drinks.  Although we're straight-laced and socially
conservative, we had collected several exciting and very sexy experiences
over the years.

   Dave carried on about the company's problems while I drove him home. 
"Tell Maureen that Deb and I send our love", I told him as we pulled into
his driveway.

   "Yeah.  Hey, Neil," he was about to open the door, but looked at me with
eyes that were remarkably clear considering his condition.  "You know what
I said about me an' Maureen?"

   "Don't worry, bud.  I didn't hear a word." I did the classic zipped lips
motion.

   "Thanks, dude.  Take it easy," and he stumbled up the stairs to his
front door.

   It was almost eleven when I got home, and Deb had left dinner in the
warming drawer.  She came down while I ate, nude, as always.  We chatted
about work and the upcoming weekend and other trivialities, but I said
nothing about Dave and Maureen's problems.

   "Tough time at work?" She asked.  I nodded, and she put her hand over
mine.  "Want to go upstairs?" 'Go upstairs' was Deb-speak and it was her
way of initiating sex.

   We left the lights on and slipped between the sheets, and her hand
immediately went for my cock.  She had never been big on foreplay.  It took
a while to warm up, but she knew exactly where to put her fingers.

   As soon as she felt my member stirring to life she moved her head down
and licked the tip, and the feeling was electric.  I stiffened almost
instantly and she parted her lips, her tongue flicking across the corona,
just below the head.  It was so sensitive that I soon had to pull away.  I
pushed her gently on her back.  She parted her knees, and I positioned
myself over her.  I rubbed the tip of my cock against her wet pussy lips
and she gasped as it slipped over her clit, which was peeking out from its
hood.  I kissed her deeply as I slipped my cock up and down for a minute,
slowly sliding almost down to her ass, then sensuously back up again,
pausing to caress her clit, then down again.  Her breath was ragged, her
tongue was agile, she was moaning softly.

   I slid the head of my cock into her pussy, held it there for a bit, and
pushed, slowly, until I was balls deep.  I looked into her eyes as we fell
into an unhurried rhythm of deep, deliberate strokes.  She wrapped her arms
around my neck and looked deep into my eyes.  Her shallow breaths were in
synch with our rhythm, and she mouthed "love you," then pulled me down for
another deep kiss.  This was making love, not just having sex.  The
inevitable happened too soon and I couldn't hold it any longer.  Every
nerve in my body seemed to end in my shaft and I could feel the cum
coursing up the length and into Deb's warm depths.

   She reached for a few tissues and we fell into the second half of our
routine - which is Deb masturbating to a climax.  She's never been able to
come with me inside her, but she's quite happy to use my cum as a lubricant
and rub her clit in quick circles while I kiss her and suck her nipples and
massage her labia.

   I know that while Deb diddles she conjures up the most incredible
fantasies.  Her mind goes wild, and some of her mental images are so
extreme that she won't describe them to me.  It's when she's at her
nastiest, and I wish I could get into her mind.  Sometimes, though, she
likes me to tell her a story or recall one of our sexual experiences in
explicit detail.

   Tonight, I took a different tack.

   "Imagine yourself at a swinger's club," I suggested as I slipped my
thumb into her pussy, then slid my index finger down to her ass and
massaged her rosebud.  "There's a room full of people and they're all
naked. You're the new club member, and as your initiation, all the guys
have to fuck you, and their wives all have to lick you.  "

   She gasped at that.  Her eyes were closed tight in concentration and her
pace quickened, so I knew this was getting to her.

   "I'm there with you," I said, sucking a sensitive nipple between
sentences.  "As each guy comes up, he's holding his cock and aiming it at
your pussy." Another lick and a nibble.  Debbie's breasts are super
sensitive when she's turned on.  "And as they move closer to you, I hold
your pussy lips open for them..."

   Her breathing was faster and shallower now.  She was getting close. 
"There's a new club just across the river, you know, and I'm taking you
there.  You'll see cocks in pussies, you'll see women swallowing the semen
of random men they don't know.  You'll see women fucking two, three, and
four guys, sometimes at the same time.  And I'll be holding you open so
random guys can just walk up and push-"

   "Ah - AH!".  Deb can be a screamer, but there was no one to hear.  "Oh
JEEEZUZ," she yelled.  Her back arched but I kept my thumb in her, and let
my finger slip into her rectum.  "OH - oh - Jeeez!"

   Watching Deb coming is one of my life's greatest pleasures, and this
orgasm was one of the biggest I'd witnessed in a few months.

   "Oh God," she exclaimed as the shaking stopped.  Her body collapsed and
she lay limp, spent.  "Oh shit - fuck!" Deb never swears as a rule, but
there are no rules in bed and she can cuss like a sailor.  The contrast
between her perfect everyday demeanor and her lewd behavior in the bedroom
is just one more way she turns me on.

   I licked the pussy juice from the finger she'd used to masturbate as she
caught her breath.  "What was that about a club somewhere here?  You made
that up, right?"

   Bingo-I had her interest.  Since we met in our early twenties, neither
Deb nor I had ever touched another person.  We took our vows seriously.  We
fantasized often, we even did a bit of role play from time to time, but in
real life it was hands-off.  But the idea of wife swapping had often come
up in our sex talk and I knew Deb was intrigued by the idea.  But would she
ever do anything about it?

   "I heard there's one only half an hour away.  The guys were talking
about it at the happy hour." I didn't say that I'd heard about it from
Dave, and I wouldn't mention his and Maureen's bedroom problems.  "I hear
it's expensive, and they're very selective about their membership."

   "I think I've heard about it," she said.  Yes, I thought, at the book
club.  "You aren't seriously thinking about going there, are you?"

   "Well, it might be interesting to look into it--see what it's all about,
what goes on there, and so on-"

   "Oh hell, no!" She sat up.  "Neil, fantasizing is one thing - but
actually going to one of these places?  I made a vow to you, and you made
one to me-"

   "Okay, hon," I chuckled.  "I'm not going to sell you to slave traders,
or dump you in a harem or anything!  I was just mildly curious.  And how
much would it strain our vows if we just went for a look-see?"

   "I don't know-," she paused.  "How would you feel if your boss was
there? Or if the neighbors found out?  Or what if one of us likes it and
the other doesn't?  No, Neil, just ...  no."

   After more than two decades of a very close marriage, I'd come to know
Debbie pretty well.  No sometimes meant absolutely never, and no sometimes
meant maybe with a little persuasion.  I might have to work hard on this
one, but it looked like a possibility.  We fell asleep with me spooning her
from behind, and my hand cradling her breast.

   * * * * *

   Work was rough that week.  I didn't see Dave except in a weekly steering
committee meeting.  I got home late most nights, and the ever patient Deb
took it in stride when I collapsed in bed and went straight to sleep.  But
I'd managed to steal half an hour to search for the "Dream Catchers Dance
and Social Club" on the Internet, and their web page was impressive. 
Membership was expensive.  Only married couples were accepted, no one under
the age of thirty, and the club reserved the right to conduct background
checks on prospective members.  Drugs and excessive alcohol were forbidden,
and no cameras of any sort were allowed on the premises - no exceptions.

   The next Friday night I got out of the office at a reasonable hour. 
After battling the second worst traffic pattern in the nation, I rolled
home and took Deb out to her favorite sushi restaurant.  I'm not a raw fish
fan, but Deb has always joked that sushi is supposed to have aphrodisiac
qualities.  I don't believe that for a minute, but always go along with the
idea, and we usually have a good time after sushi.

   Tonight was the same.  Deb was more passionate tonight than usual.  It
was a wham-bam-thank you ma'am session.  I came within minutes, and as Deb
lay back diddling her clit, she closed her eyes and asked "Did you find any
more information about that club?"

   "I did, and you'll love it," I said.  No reaction.

   "Most of the members are our age or older." She said nothing, kept
diddling.

   I pushed my luck with "It's expensive, but we can afford it.  And we
don't know anyone from that area."

   "Good," she replied.  I sucked her nipple and stroked her labia and she
came in an instant.

   I wondered if I'd hit the jackpot, or if Debbie was just fantasizing
again.  I'd wanted to do this for years.  My position was that love and sex
are completely different, and if we give each other permission to do
something unconventional, that is not a violation of our vows.  She was a
bit more conservative about it but as our fantasies became more adventurous
over the years I'd sensed a softening in her position.

   Sex usually puts me to sleep but leaves her wide awake, but in a
reversal of roles, Deb drifted off to sleep and I lay awake pondering the
possibilities.  Membership of Dream Catchers was an eye watering $5,000,
and depending on the nature of the event, each "party night" cost about an
additional $1,000.

   Like many red blooded American males I'd frequently visualized my wife
being fucked by other men.  Just the thought of it was a huge turn on.  But
how would I feel in real life?  Would I fly into a jealous rage?  How would
I react to seeing some middle-aged schlub with a big belly and pimples on
his ass porking my beautiful wife?  Would I be disgusted or turned on?  Or
worst of all, would I be disappointed?  In Deb, or in myself?

   I would never do anything to destroy my marriage--but was I planning to
do exactly that right now?  I'd done a bit of reading on "the lifestyle" as
swingers like to call it, and they all claim that it's done wonders for
their marriage.  But how many couples had it split up?  Of all the people
who had tried swapping, how many loved it, and how many actually hated it?

   By two in the morning I'd weighed the pros and cons and decided that I
wanted to do this.  I called the club the next day to inquire about
membership.  I had to meet the club's management for an appointment before
I could even apply, so I set it up for Monday, after work.  The rest of the
weekend went by at a snail's pace.

   TWO

   Close to the border between Maryland and Washington, DC, there's an
impressive and expensive country club with a golf course that constantly
ranks in the top hundred in the nation.  Some of the houses that surround
it are huge architectural marvels, and after following my GPS to number
1749, all I could see was a big gateway.  I went down a tree lined driveway
that wound across the estate for probably a hundred yards and pulled up to
an elegant French Tudor home with a pool pavilion to the left side and a
tennis court to the right.  A fairway and a greenside bunker were visible
in the distance, through the trees.

   Above the front door I saw three ornamental Native American
dreamcatchers.  I was in the right place.

   The door opened before I could knock.  "You must be Neil?" She was an
elegant fifty-something, with long wavy gray hair and a figure that would
be impressive on most twenty-somethings.  "I'm Mary.  Come and meet Stu."
The entrance hall was huge, the furnishings were tasteful.  Stuart was in
the living room.  He was a big man in his late fifties with a mane of
silver hair and a build that must have come from endless hours in the gym.
My feet sank into the plush carpet and the sunlight that streamed through
the expansive picture window filled the room with a warm glow.  The place
felt more like a movie set than a home, and I could imagine characters from
'The Great Gatsby' lounging around.

   After drinks were offered and accepted, Stuart got straight to business.
"We were lucky, and managed to retire quite young.  We started this club
because it gave us a way to augment our retirement while doing something
we've done all our married lives." Brief, to the point, business like. 
"I'll give you the grand tour, but first some questions."

   I'd been on job interviews that were less nerve wracking.  Stuart and
Mary did their best to put me at ease, but the butterflies in my stomach
wouldn't stop.  The first questions were about Deb, and how willing she
was. Then it was about our personal and business backgrounds, and finally,
our sex habits.  I was uncomfortable with those questions, but answered as
honestly as I could.

   "Neil, with Deborah being new at this, I'm going to suggest that your
first experience should be one of our games nights." Stu went on, "we have
a few fun events that we use to get things going, and which are almost
always guaranteed to ease the tension, and to make new members comfortable.
Ice breakers for newbies, if you will."

   "Games?" I asked.

   "Don't worry," answered Mary.  "They won't frighten her off.  Think of
it as a dance evening with a few games between dances.  Just a few
stripping games, maybe a kind of truth or dare thing, then one of our
ladies sometimes does a sex toy demo--and then we always have a couple put
on a live show".

   "A live sex show," added Stuart.  "Then after that, the dancing
continues - but people can wander off into the party rooms and start having
a good time."

   "Sounds interesting!"

   "Mary and I are nudists.  That has nothing to do with our lifestyle or
our parties, but we encourage our guests to be nude at all times.  So if
being undressed in company is a problem, you might like to think twice."

   "Debbie and I are nudists too," I told them.  "I think we're what they
call 'home nudists'.  We're always undressed at home, but we don't flaunt
it.  None of our friends know about it.  We've enjoyed various nude
beaches. We've tried a few clubs but they didn't appeal to us."

   "Excellent!  You'll fit right in then, because there'll be a lot of
nudity here.  We don't want anyone feeling out of place.  Come along," he
stood.  "I'll show you around, and you'll get an idea about how it all
works."

   The club's premises were in the basement, which must have spread across
four thousand square feet.  The main section was a large room with a bar at
one end, a stage at the other, and comfortable chairs, and love seats along
the walls.  "Rest rooms back here," Stu pointed at a ladies and men signs.
"Free drinks, and caterers provide snacks.  Sex show on the platform up
there, and dancing in the main section, with a DJ playing music from that
booth.  I keep a free supply of Viagra on the bar counter.  I've been told
it's irresponsible, and probably illegal, but I expect our members to
behave responsibly and to use them with due caution." I nodded.

   "There are lockers for your clothes and valuables near the restrooms. 
But I think we wasted our money there because no one ever uses them. 
People just stack their clothes up next to the chairs and the love seats.
Our members are a very select group of people." He swept his arm in an arc
across the big room.  "We keep the place fairly dark, and you'll be amazed
at what people get up to when the lights go down.  Come this way."

   A wide hallway led off the main hall, with five large rooms on either
side.  "These are what we call the 'party rooms'.  Three private rooms. 
See the lights?" He pointed to two small bulbs above the doors.  "No light
means it's unoccupied.  Green light means it's occupied, but you can join
in.  Red light means keep out, we want privacy.  The switches are on the
wall, just inside the door.  Each room has three king size beds and we buy
brand new linen for every party." I was impressed, and was beginning to
understand the incredibly high entrance fees.

   "And two observation rooms," he went on.  The hallway was wider here,
and the walls were glass from floor to ceiling.  "This one is for anyone to
use, any time, on the understanding that there will always be an audience."
There were again, three king size beds as well as a complicated looking sex
swing.  "And this one," he pointed to a much smaller room across the hall,
also behind a huge glass wall, "is for lap dances.  We usually have a male
and a female stripper, and they'll do a lap dance for anyone who asks. 
There's a five minute timer so everyone can have a turn."

   "I love the party rooms, but these are my favorites," said Mary,
pointing to the two picture windows.  "I love it, whether I'm on the inside
or the outside." It took me by surprise that she was so matter-of-fact
about it, so open about what she would obviously be doing in the
observation rooms.  I couldn't help wondering what she would look like
naked, mounted on some guy, performing for everyone in the hallway.

   As if he read my mind, Stu pointed out "You understand that none of the
members are twenty year old kids, right?  So don't expect a house full of
nubile nymphs with swimsuit edition bodies." I've always thought of my wife
as a beautiful woman, but I was realistic enough to recognize my bias.  To
anyone else she was probably pretty, attractive even, but not necessarily a
head turner.  Like most women her age she could afford to lose fifteen
pounds or so, but at 5'5" and 140 pounds with a decent waist to boob ratio
she was still a desirable woman.  But more than anything, she was sexy.  It
was an undefinable quality that I was never able to fully describe, but
when she dressed to impress, her looks and her mannerisms clearly reflected
her upper class background, yet she just dripped sex.  Again, maybe it was
just me.

   "Our members are mature, both mentally and physically," continued
Stuart. "On the one hand that means that we take our fun seriously and
we've grown out of childish insecurities.  But that also means we have
mature bodies.  We're all grown-ups, with everything that's good and bad
about that." We re-entered the main room.  "Of course no one has to use the
party rooms.  There's always a lot of activity right here".

   "Oh, and don't forget the pool," said Mary.  "We have parties at the
poolside two or three times a year.  The neighbors can't see us, so ... 
anything can happen out there."

   "And usually does," chuckled Stu.

   I completed the application form, and although I felt guilty about not
discussing it with Deb in advance, I made out a check for the five large.
The club held meetings every two to three weeks, and the next games night
was almost a month away.

   Stuart instructed me to create a new email account that was completely
separate from any other inboxes.  A week after my visit I received an email
confirming that we'd been accepted as members, welcoming us to the club,
and providing a user ID and password to the members-only section of the
Dream Catchers web site.  It was a professionally constructed site and
listed the club's rules, the calendar of events, a pictorial tour of the
premises, and a members' discussion forum.  The next games night was on a
Saturday, three weeks from now.

   All I had to do now was convince Deb.  At first she'd made it clear that
she wasn't interested, then I'd seen cracks in her resolve but--how much
was fantasy?  Would she do it?  I'd taken a $5,000 gamble and was kicking
myself with buyers' remorse.  Why the fuck hadn't I tried to persuade my
wife first, and then written the check?  If Debbie refused to go, I had
pissed away an important part of our savings for nothing.  As I turned into
the driveway I knew I had to bring it up tonight.  Talk her through it, let
her know that it was a sophisticated environment with members who would
respect a newbie's reluctance to participate, sell her on the new and
exciting experiences...

   There was a post-it note on the mirror in the hallway.  "Book club
tonight.  Will be late.  Don't wait up.  Love you!" Damn, the conversation
would have to wait.  The tension was killing me.

   I took the opportunity to research swinger clubs but found almost
nothing about Dream Catchers, other than a few links to its web site.  I
tried to find serious discussion about other clubs, or about the benefits
or drawbacks of the lifestyle.  Almost everything I found was lightweight
drivel or reviews posted by enthusiastic club owners and members.  I gave
up and got into bed, and was asleep in minutes.  Less than an hour later I
was awakened by Deb shaking my shoulder.

   "Hey, sleepy head.  You okay?"

   "'Course.  Whassup?" I was groggy.

   "It's not yet eleven o'clock and you're already asleep.  So if you're
not sick-" She produced two glasses of wine.  Red for me, white for her.  I
took the glass, and her free hand reached under the covers and went
straight to my cock.  This wasn't her first drink of the night.  I smiled.

   "So what happened at the book club to get you so worked up?"

   "Oh, nothing.  Just girl talk."

   "Was Maureen there?"

   "Did you know that she and Dave are having problems?" I said nothing. 
"Maureen is trying to get Dave to go to that club you told me about, but
Dave won't hear about it." I said nothing.  "She told Dave that they don't
have to participate, and they could just watch and be watched.  But Dave
seems to have...issues.  So she's given up on the idea." Deb sipped her
chardonnay.  "So the girls started talking about what it would be like--you
know--to go to a place like that.  Under the sheets she pumped
unconsciously at my stiffening rod.

   "So is the book club planning a field trip?"

   Deb's laugh was infectious.  She put her glass down and stripped in
about twenty seconds, pulled back the covers, and climbed over me.  My knob
slid easily along the length of her protruding labia.  The juices were
dripping from her.

   "It must have been a pretty raunchy conversation," I laughed, as she
slowly lowered herself onto me.

   "Aah--that's nice," she crooned as I slid all the way in and her body
met mine.  She started riding me and reached for her clit.  Debbie has no
pubic hair.  It cost us a lot, but we'd both been in for a series of
extensive laser treatments.  Hers was a full body cleanup, mine was the
typical man's "back, sack, and crack", with the extras of "shoulders and
shaft".  "The girls were all joking about it, but it was all just talk. 
Except for Maureen and me, none of the girls would ever actually do
anything about it.  And Dave won't go..."

   I sank my butt into the mattress and thrust upward, burying myself into
my wife's hot wet pussy.  What the fuck did she just say?  Except for
Maureen and me?  Jesus, Deb had already bought into it!  My dick was
suddenly as hard as steel, and it felt huge.  This was actually going to
happen!  God, I loved this woman.

   Debbie's eyes were closed, one hand was circling her clit and the other
was pinching a nipple.  I did all the work, thrusting upward.  I could
imagine the fantasies going through her mind, and it didn't take long for
Deb to come.  She threw her head back and rubbed furiously.  Then she
clamped the base of my cock and her guttural groan was raw sex at its most
primal.  Pure self-pleasure.  I was just an observer.  I continued my slow
deep thrusts until she collapsed forward on me, drenched with sweat and
panting.  I gently rolled her over, my tool still buried in her, and came
in less than a dozen strokes.

   "Whew", she giggled after a few minutes.  "My legs are like jello."

   I steered the conversation back to the subject that had been at the
forefront of my mind for more than two weeks.  "So Maureen's interested in
that club you were discussing?"

   Deb rolled over on her side, facing me, her head propped on a hand. 
"You can stop hinting, Neil.  I'll go to this place with you but I have
some ground rules, okay?  A." She held up a finger.  "We do not get
physical with other people.  Maureen says a lot of people like to 'watch
and be watched', and I'm okay with that.  But that's it."

   "Okay."

   "Two." She held up a second finger.  "If we see anyone we know, we do a
U-turn and skedaddle before they see us."

   "Works for me."

   "C." A third finger.  "I only want to go once.  Okay?  We go one time,
and that's it.  Just to see what it's like, and because I know you need to
get it out of your system."

   I didn't answer--just raised my eyebrows with an expression that I hoped
said 'What, me?'

   "Also." Four fingers in the air now.  "If I feel uncomfortable about
anything, I mean absolutely anything, I reserve the right to call it quits
and we leave."

   "Did I ever tell you that I love you?"

   "Not in the last ten minutes." She smiled, and put her four fingers on
my chest.  "I need to know that you agree".  She pressed harder.

   I brought her four fingers to my lips and kissed them.  They still
tasted of her juices.  "Sleep tight".  She rolled over and spooned against
me.  My cock, still coated with her juices and my cum, slid into her butt
crack.  I reached over for a nipple and hoped she would have raunchy
dreams. God, I loved the woman!  The wine glasses stood untouched on my
nightstand.

   * * * * *

   After work the next day I told her that we'd be attending a party at the
club at the end of the month.

   "God, Maureen will be jealous."

   "I damn well hope you won't tell her!" How many secrets do twin sisters
share?

   "Oh no," she said quickly.  "I mean--she'd be pissed if she knew."

   THREE

   Those three weeks were the slowest in my life.  I'll swear that someone
had fucked with the space-time continuum--every hour was longer than sixty
minutes and every day felt like a week.  But after that interminable wait,
the appointed Saturday had Deb going through her closet wondering what to
wear.  What was the point?  I hoped that she wouldn't be wearing anything
for most of the night.  Or would she?  My most earnest wish was that she
would love the experience and be open to going back several times.  But my
biggest fear was that she'd hate it and would want to leave early.  She
settled on a dress that flared at the knees and showed a small amount of
cleavage but was open at the back with no sign of a bra.  I wore khakis and
a button down shirt with a blue blazer.

   The mid-summer sun was setting as we pulled into 1749 and Deb gasped at
the magnificent driveway and scale of the house.  My little BMW 3-series
looked lost among the Mercedes S-classes and Range Rovers.  As we stepped
inside Mary greeted us with an excited yelp and a hug.  "You're Deborah. 
I'm so happy to meet you!" She pushed Debbie away, held her at arm's
length. "You're lovely!  We must have a glass of wine together and get to
know each other."

   Really?  I thought this was a swingers club, you know, wife swapping and
sex all over the place.  Then I realized that Mary was being the ever
gracious hostess and doing everything possible to put Deb at ease.  "And
Neil, here, let me take that jacket." She hung it on a coat rack behind
her, along with half a dozen other blue blazers.  At least my guess about
the dress code had been right.  "I think everyone else is here.  Go, go,"
she pointed to the basement door.  "Get a drink.  Mingle!"

   There must have been fifteen couples in the party room.  I guided Deb to
the bar.  She took a chardonnay, I got a sprite with ice, which I hoped
looked like a gin and tonic.  Yes, I cheat a lot like that.  Stuart came
through the mingling crowd, and I introduced Deb, and he gave her an
avuncular hug and shook my hand.  Very formal.  This could have been a
corporate cocktail party.

   Stuart stepped over to the DJ booth and announced that the dance floor
was open, and music filled the room.  Deb and I grabbed a love seat near
the stage and watched for a while.  Nothing out of the ordinary-just eight
or nine couples dancing, and the rest socializing with drinks in their
hands.  About ten minutes later Stuart came over the speakers again, and
said "Okay - everyone on the dance floor please.  Everyone!" We danced a
few numbers, then the music faded and our host came over the speakers
again.

   "Alright - it's time for the spoon dance!" A few cheers came from the
dance floor.  "For those who don't know how it works--I'm going to hand out
three spoons to three ladies." He stepped onto the dance floor and handed
them to random women.  They were large serving spoons, gold in color, with
blue and white ribbons attached.  "When the music stops, the ladies who are
holding spoons have to find a new partner to dance with.  You'll cut in,
and hand the spoon to the lady you displaced, and then those ladies need to
find a new dance partner.  Clear as mud?"

   The idea was to get couples to mingle, rather than clinging to each
other.  We watched as the spoons went around.  Couples were split up, new
partnerships were formed, and the dancing went on.  The music wasn't loud,
and there was a lot of conversation on the floor.  Every time the music
stopped Deb looked away to avoid eye contact, hoping we wouldn't be
separated.  After about five dances the music died again and we saw Mary
approaching - spoon in hand.

   "Ah" she cried.  "I've been looking for you two.  My turn, Deborah! 
Here, take the spoon and see if you can find someone to dance with.  The
music fired up again, and Debbie looked bewildered until Stuart stepped up.

   "I think I'm the only person without a partner.  May I?" He held his
hand out graciously.  She gave me a questioning look.  I winked and nodded.
She took his hand hesitantly and they fell into a simple shuffle.  I tried
to concentrate on my dance with Mary, and when I looked again, their heads
were bowed close as Stuart engaged Deb in conversation.  It was
obvious--this had been carefully orchestrated.  The music died again. 
Stuart was dancing with someone else and I had no idea where Debbie was. 
After another three dances the music stopped and Stuart came over the
speakers again.  I headed for the love seat we'd nabbed earlier and met Deb
there.  She was smiling.

   "Time to get this show in the road!  There'll be just five more dance
songs, and just one spoon.  If you have the spoon at the end of a song,
give it to another couple.  And when I say couple--you don't have to be
dancing with your partner.  But if you get the spoon, you have to strip!"
Debbie's fingers gripped my thigh.  This was getting real.  "Okay,
everybody up!" Deb swallowed the rest of her chardonnay, and we joined the
throng on the dance floor.

   Fifteen couples.  Five songs.  In about twenty minutes, at least one in
three people would be naked.  That façade of a corporate cocktail party
wasn't going to last.  As we started dancing, I did a double-take.  Mary
was dancing alongside us, with someone I didn't know.  They were both
naked, and Mary held the spoon.  Her age showed a few sags and wrinkles,
but she still had a great body.  Deb's eyes were on stalks.  The music
faded and my heart went into my mouth as Mary reached the spoon toward us.
But she reached between Deb and me and handed it to the couple to my left.
They stripped to loud applause, and the music continued.

   Everyone around us was doing their own bad interpretations of
dirty-dancing but enjoying themselves.  Several of the dancers were nude.
As I'd been warned, the women weren't twenty year old models and the guys
were neither athletes nor body builders.  And yet somehow it was okay.  The
average age was probably five or six years older than us and everyone
seemed to be in better than average shape.  It was comforting to know that
these were real people.

   Deb and I didn't get the spoon, but we were soon surrounded by naked
bodies.  It was a lot to take in--at once exciting and unsettling.

   As the music faded, Stu announced that it was time for the blindfold
game.  The five naked couples knew what it was about and stepped onto the
floor.  Mary blindfolded the women, and Stuart, now also nude, stood the
men in a line.  He lifted the microphone.  "There will be 2 blindfold
games. For the next round of players, I need you all to get undressed now,
so you'll be ready to play.  He read four couples names, then "...and Neil
and Deb."

   "Fuck," whispered Deb.  "Well here goes-" and she whipped her dress over
her head.  No bra, no panties!  She kept her shoes on.  The sight of my
wife naked in this crowded room had my mind in turmoil.  Excited, anxious,
wondering what the hell I'd started.  I took a bit longer to undress while
the game started on the floor.

   Mary checked the ladies' blindfolds, then she led them by the hand to
the guys - and one by one, they had to identify their partner.  The first
woman fumbled for each of the five men's faces, then came back down the
line and rubbed her hands down the chests of each guy, and felt each cock
and balls.  "This one!" she cried.  Applause.  Apparently she got it right.

   The second woman did the same thing.  Faces, cock and balls, and chests.
Feeling for hair, testing each guy's build, and lingering unnecessarily
long between the guys legs.  She also got it right.  Debbie and I would be
playing next, and my heart was in my mouth.  Deb's fingers dug into my
naked thigh, and I knew she was nervous.  The third and fourth women had it
easier.  The guys all had hard-ons by now.  The girls had could have picked
their guys out in a few seconds, but they took their time.

   The fifth competitor Mary led to the lineup dropped to her knees
immediately, and started sucking.  Cheers and more applause from the
onlookers.  After thirty seconds she scooted over to the next guy, and the
next.  "I'm not sure," she said to her audience.  "I'll have to try again!"
Howls of laughter, more cheers, and Mary led her back to the first guy.

   When it was our turn to play, Mary surprised us.  She reached for me
first, and said "Here, Neil, it's the men's turn now," and she whipped a
blindfold over me before I could react.  I was afraid for Deb.  She would
be standing in a row with four other women, while strangers felt her up. 
Was she up for this?

   The first competitor took his time, and I could hear short gasps from
the women as he worked his way down the line.  It seemed that his partner
was fifth in line.  The next guy went, and the crowd was cheering.  Why? 
What was he doing?  How would my wife react if he licked her tits?  Or
worse, was he on his knees?  The thought stirred my cock into a
full-strength hard on, yet I was afraid for my wife's safety.  If any of
these guys touched herI was conflicted between jealousy and the urge to
protect my bride, and the raw carnal lust I felt when I visualized Debbie's
pussy being rubbed by a stranger.  And dammit, I would soon be feeling up
five attractive women myself.  I strained my ears, and soon heard her
unmistakable voice groan in a way that I'd only ever heard in bed.  Christ,
I bet he was licking them.  My naked wife just had her pussy licked in
front of a room full of strangers!

   Then I felt Mary's hand taking mine.  "Come on, hot stuff, your turn!" I
was the last man to go.  At the first woman I knelt and rubbed my hands up
the insides of her thighs, and slid my hands gently over her pussy, then I
planted a gentle kiss where I thought the clit would be.  I stood and put
my arms around her, felt her butt, rubbed gently around to the chest, and
slid my hands up to her face, then around the back of her head.  I had
judger her height, the shape of her labia, the size of her butt, the shape
and size of her breasts, the shape of her face, and the length of her hair.
Not one of those features was even close to my wife, but I took my time.

   I did the same thing to the second woman, though as I put my hands
around her back my cock pushed up against her belly and I could feel the
pre-cum rubbing against her.  Same routine.  This lady's inner labia
protruded at least half an inch.  I would love to have those in my mouth.
By the time I got to the fourth person I heard shuffling, then laughter
from the onlookers.  I guessed what was happening, but went along with it
anyway--Mary was switching the women around, so I would miss Deb.  I was
right.  The fifth woman wasn't Deb either.  "I thought I knew my wife!" I
said.  But I'm not sure..." More laughter.

   "Well come along, honey." It was Mary's voice.  She took my hand and led
me back to the beginning of the line.  "Start again, and take your time!" I
smiled.  This time I felt every part of the woman before me.  I rubbed her
pussy and slipped a finger inside.  She was hot and wet.  I tasted my
finger, then rubbed her tits again.  She was tall, perhaps a bit
overweight. I might never have an opportunity like this again, so I tried
to use all five senses, tried to concentrate and remember every detail,
every movement.  I did the same with the second woman.  This one had
thicker, wetter labia and a trimmed pubic fuzz, a narrow waist, and what
felt like pendulous tits.

   The moment my fingers first touched the third woman I knew it was
Debbie. But I remembering that she wasn't blindfolded and had seen me
feeling the other ladies, I went through the full routine.  I caressed the
inside of her thighs.  I rubbed the flat of my hand across her hairless
sex. I kneaded her ass, spent extra time on her chest and rubbed her
nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.  Then I kissed her deeply. 
There was a cheer from the crowd, and I pulled the blindfold off.

   Deb went back to our love seat, and I went to get new drinks.  A real
gin and tonic this time.  Handing Deb her glass I looked into her eyes for
a hint of how she felt about events so far.  "You okay?" I mouthed to her.
She smiled and nodded.  "I love you".

   "I love you too," she mouthed back, then winked and took a sip.  Deb had
just been felt up by four strangers and had me feeling her intimately
before an audience, yet it seemed that she was more comfortable than I was.

   "If you're still dressed, well--shame on you!" Stuart was back on the
microphone.  Several people started undressing, and soon almost everyone
was nude.

   "We have some performers with us tonight!  Please welcome my new friends
Brandy and Randy!" There was an applause as a young couple entered the room
and stepped onto the stage.  "And this might surprise you--but Brandy and
Randy are not their real names!" Laughter from fifteen or so naked couples
who were now all lounging in love seats.

   Brandy was a walking Barbie doll, and could have stepped off the pages
of any fashion magazine.  Tall, blonde, hourglass waist, a perfect chest,
and the cutest face.  She wore loose fitting jeans and a long sleeved
T-shirt.  Randy, or whatever his name was, looked like a cast member of the
Chippendales.  Muscular, perfectly proportioned, and a square jaw that
framed a gleaming smile.

   As Stuart clicked the microphone off, the music started and the couple
began dancing on the stage.  It was obvious that they were of professional
performers of some sort.  Strippers maybe?  Judging by their polished
performance they were very good at it, and had worked together before. 
After a few sexy moves they started stripping each other.  They were a
beautiful couple but my attention was split between their stage act and the
activities in the rest of the room.  Every person was now naked with the
occasional exception of shoes or jewelry.  Most couples were embracing or
making out one way or another, and at the far end of the room, four people
were a confusing mass of bodies.  I wished I could see them more clearly.

   I put my arm around my wife and we leaned back to enjoy the performance.
Randy was nude now, and he and slowly and sensuously pulled Brandy's jeans
down.  Deb leaned in to me and said "Remember, we weren't supposed to touch
anyone else?  That was one of my conditions."

   "Yes, and...?"

   I watched you feeling up four women, Neil.  Four!" Her eyes bore into
me.

   On the platform, Brandy's breasts were obviously enhanced but still
looked good.  Randy was working her thong down her legs, kissing her belly
as he did so.  My erection was so hard it almost hurt.  "That was part of
the game, Deb.  How was I supposed to back out of it?" She didn't answer.
"And how did it feel having four strangers feeling you up?" I imitated her
"Four!"

   There was a flicker of a smile, then she turned serious again.  "From
here on, it's hands-off.  Okay?" I nodded.

   Randy's tongue was flicking at Brandy's clit now.  "Watch these two," I
pointed to the stage.  "This is going to be hot."

   She slapped my thigh.  "Please, honey, promise me?"

   I cuddled her close to me and whispered "I love you, and we'll only do
what you're comfortable with.  Now aren't you interested in that?" I
pointed at the performers again.  She shook her head and came in for a deep
kiss.  I fondled her nipples lightly and she rested her hand on my cock and
rubbed it gently.  "How does it feel being buck nekkid and doing this in
front of so many people?"

   "Mmmm," and she came in for another kiss.  "Makes me horny," she
whispered into my mouth as we kissed.

   As I looked up, Randy lifted Brandy onto a love seat.  She parted her
legs and he kneeled before her with a huge erection pointing straight at
her opening.  Debbie gasped.  "Jesus!"

   "What's wrong?"

   "That's a beautiful cock!" My attention had been on Brandy's opening
pussy.  Randy's penis was hard, perfectly straight, and so smooth it was
almost unnatural.  And thick.  It looked like a beer can.  Randy rubbed the
tip along Brandy's vulva.  "God, that thing is gorgeous!" Deb squeezed my
cock unconsciously and rubbed her thumb across the tip, spreading a glob of
pre-cum.  "He's going to split her in half!" I looked at her closely.  Her
eyes were wide and laser focused.

   Randy slowly pushed himself into Brandy.  Her labia spread so wide to
accommodate him that it looked almost unnatural.  I looked around the room.
Everyone was watching the performance intently, and it seemed that every
club member was groping or being groped.  Deb's free hand went to her pussy
and started rubbing.  I don't think she knew she was doing it.

   Randy made shallow thrusts, pushing himself fractionally deeper into
Brandy with each movement until finally he was all the way in.  He paused
the slowly extracted himself until his knob was visible, then slammed it
back into Brandy so hard that we could hear his balls slapping her ass. 
Brandy grunted loudly, and there were gasps all around us.  The foursome at
the far end of the room had paused to watch, and as Randy shoved that huge
tool into Brandy a second time, they clapped loudly.

   My mind was spinning.  I had never watched anyone else having sex yet
here it was not twenty feet away, we were in a room full of naked people
fooling around, and Deb was masturbating wildly in front of them all but
oblivious to their presence.  This must surely be what heaven is like.  I
looked down.  Debbie was working two fingers into herself, and trying to
insert a third.  I held her close to me.

   It took less than five minutes before Brandy yelled from her place on
the stage, and convulsed with her orgasm.  Randy slipped his huge tool out
of her, pointed it over her belly and grunted as a rope of semen landed
between her breasts.  Debbie gasped loudly.  She was almost cramming her
whole hand into her pussy now.  Randy's tight butt cheeks clinched and his
back muscles rippled as he continued to pump, and he shot his cum onto
Brandy at least four more times.  Debbie was mesmerized.  I leaned over and
sucked her tit, and she came suddenly and violently.  Her ass bucked off
the love seat, her breathing was desperate and shallow, and her face
contorted as her yelp echoed Brandy's.

   After a minute or two Brandy had come down from her climax.  The couple
stood, faced their audience and took a bow.  There was a loud show of
appreciation from most of the onlookers, but Deb had curled against me in a
fetal position.  I stroked her hair and she reached up for my hand. 
"That's probably the biggest O I've ever had.  My God, that guy is built.
That Brandy is so lucky-"

   I laughed, then squeezed her hand and mouthed "I love you."

   "Okay, Kids," Stuart again.  "it's party time!  I believe the caterers
have delivered the snacks, so Mary and I will bring them down.  The bar's
still open.  If anyone wants to dance the DJ will keep the music going, and
the private rooms are open.  Oh, and one more thing.  Unfortunately our
friend Brandy had to leave early, but our other friend Randy will be
available for lap dances for the ladies in observation room two." There was
a light hearted cheer from the women.  "But, ladies, we only have him for
an hour." A light hearted "Aww" came from the same group of women.  "So get
in while you can!" Chuckled Stu.  "Maestro?" He signaled to the DJ booth
behind him.  "We have a party here.  Music, please!"

   FOUR

   The members dispersed.  There was a small crowd at the bar and at the
snacks table, several couples went down the hall to the party rooms, and
four people took to the dance floor.  It took a few minutes to get fresh
drinks, then I took Debbie by the hand and went down the hall.  Two of the
bedrooms had red lights shining outside the doors.  "that means do not
disturb," I explained to her.  One room had a green light.  We opened the
door and watched as a couple was making out together.  Just heavy petting.
We closed it and I showed Deb the observation windows.

   The room was well lit, though the hallway was dark--so we could see in
but they probably couldn't see out.  Half a dozen people were in the
hallway watching a man on his back, with a pretty woman straddling him,
rocking slowly.  I did a double take when I saw that it was Mary--and the
man wasn't Stuart.  Mary was in a Zen like state and didn't flinch when a
second couple climbed onto the bed alongside them.

   The newcomers started necking, but soon the woman leaned down and took
her partner's flaccid penis in her mouth and started working it.  We could
hear the suckling sounds out in the observation area.  It took less than a
minute for his erection to stand proud as she worked her tongue along its
length, then she swallowed it, pumping her head up and down, then she
lifted up for another sensuous lick with her tongue swirling over the
glans. While she worked Mary leaned over and stoked the woman's hair even
as she continued her own rocking motion, her face lifted to the ceiling,
her eyes closed, her mind in a place only she could see.

   Debbie was fascinated.  Our arms were around each other and we sipped
our drinks and took in the public displays of carnal lust and pure
pleasure. A third couple joined the party.  They went to one of the other
beds and without any pretense of foreplay they fell into a missionary
position and started humping.  It was a crude display when I contrasted
with Mary's angelic state.

   Other than porn videos, I had never before actually watched anyone else
having sex before tonight.  And now standing there completely nude, next to
my nude wife, surrounded by half a dozen other nude onlookers, watching six
people in various states of pure sex right in front of us--it was almost
more than I could absorb.  A mental overload.  I concentrated on every
detail so I would remember it for as long as possible.  My cock was still
hard and waved awkwardly before me.

   The woman in the missionary position started yelling "Oh God, Oh God, Oh
God, Oh God..." over and over and squirmed as she came.  Her partner pulled
out of her and pumped at his cock, and came in buckets.  It didn't shoot,
but dribbled down his hand and onto her stomach, filling her belly button,
and catching in her short pubic hairs.  My wife dug her nails into my
waist. Without any kissing or cuddling, they both stood, came through the
door and passed us.  Deb's eyes were on the woman's stomach.  There had
been no clean up, and the cum was streaming down her belly and her legs. 
"Did you see that?" She mouthed.  I shrugged.  Debbie is a clean freak and
always has tissues or towels handy.

   "So?" I asked.  "Do you think that's hot?  Or does it gross you out?"

   Deb's eyes were still on the couple as they went back into the main
hall. "I'm--well, I'm not sure!"

   "I know what you mean.  Look-" Two women had entered the observation
room and quickly fell into a sixty nine position.  The couple next to Mary
had moved--she was on her knees and elbows, and he was rubbing her pussy
and getting ready to enter her doggy style.  Mary was still rocking, now
crooning gently to herself, and I wondered how much longer her partner
could last.

   Debbie and I must have stood there for forty five minutes or more,
captivated by the experience and taking it all in.  There were fewer people
in the observation area now.  An alarm buzzed behind me, and I realized
that I'd been hearing it every few minutes.

   In the smaller observation room behind me, Randy had just finished
another lap dance.  In all that time we had been so engrossed with the
activities in the main observation room that we forgot about the smaller
room across the hall.  "Look here," I told Deb, turning her around.  A
woman was seated on a plain office chair.  Randy's tool was bulging into a
tiny G-string, and he danced provocatively before her.  His hips gyrated
and he teased her by pulling at the seam of the G-string.

   "You want a lap dance?" Deb looked at me, her eyes told me she was
debating.  "It doesn't count as 'touching' if it's a lap dance."

   "Hmmm, I don't know." Then her eyes were on the hump in his G-string.

   We watched for a few minutes, and the buzzer went off.  The woman in the
observation room stood, gave Randy a quick kiss, and stepped out.  Randy
came to the door.

   "Come," I said, and steered her toward Randy.  "I don't know, Neil..."

   "It's just a lap dance hon.  And if he goes too far you just say no, and
get up and leave.  Come."

   Randy saw us approaching and held out his hand.  "I'm Randy.  Welcome to
my little show," he smiled.

   I took Deb's wine glass from her.  "I'm going to get more drinks.  The
bar seems to be crowded, so I might be a while.  You kids have fun!" Then I
leaned in to Deb and whispered.  "You know I love you.  Do whatever you
want.  I want you to have as much fun as you can handle." I kissed her
lightly, and she gave me an apprehensive look as I headed toward the bar.

   There was a crowd around the bar, but they were just chatting.  I had my
refills in a matter of seconds and went back to the observation room. 
Debbie was in the chair and Randy stood before her rotating his hips in a
lazy, sexy dance.  Deb's eyes went from his huge pecs to his six-pack abs,
to the lump that was threatening to escape his G-string.  Like the other
room this one was well lit and I had a crystal clear view, but they
probably couldn't see me.

   I could hear him talking to her.  "I saw you enjoying our show." Deb
flushed.  "I was flattered that you liked it so much." She looked toward
the window, but I knew she couldn't see me.  "Her eyes went back to his
scant underwear.  "Do you want to play with it?" Deb shook her head.  "Do
you want to see it?" She nodded.  In one fluid movement the G-string was
off and that huge member sprang forward, half engorged.  Randy swayed
before her, dancing to the music coming from the main hall, and his cock
swung before him.  He reached forward and Deb shrank back.  His hands went
past her, to the backrest, behind her.  The chair was on wheels, and he
slowly pulled her closer to him.  He was whispering in her ear now.  Deb's
hands came up and she stroked the inside of his thighs.

   I stood there, drinks in hand, mesmerized.  Less than an hour ago Debbie
had orgasmed to this guy and swooned over his cock.  Now it was right in
front of her.  She made the rule about not touching, but--would she?  I
desperately wanted her to grab it, pump it, do something.  Yet at the same
time I was thinking "No, honey, don't.  No.  Just look and enjoy.  Don't do
it, Babe."

   Randy was still whispering into her ear, his knees were touching hers
and his erection was now hovering above her belly button.  He stood back
then and parted her knees, and leaned forward again.  I looked around.  No
one there.  Everyone had moved from the party rooms back into the main hall
and I was alone in the observation area.  I could hear him again.  "Is it
okay if I do this?" He rubbed his huge cock against her stomach.  Deb
nodded.  The guy was a seasoned performer.  He was still in stripper-mode,
emulating some sort of lap dance, still timing his movements to the music,
and enticing his victim to go along with him just one small step at a time.
He was leaking pre-cum now, and he left sticky trails as he rubbed along my
wife's abdomen.  Deb put her arms around him hesitantly.  She didn't know
where to put her hands and settled on his tight butt muscles.

   "I'm going to go a bit lower," he said.  I strained to hear him.  "Don't
worry, this is just a lap dance." He smiled, and she nodded again.  Randy
adjusted his position, and was now rubbing his cock along Debbie's wet
slit. Her head went back and her eyes rolled up.  He stroked the length of
his shaft up and down, up and down her opening.  Her eyes were closed now,
but his eyes watched her every movement.  This guy was a professional.

   Two more long strokes that obviously massaged her clit, then a third,
and then Deb put her hand between them and pushed the top of his shaft
downward.  The next up stroke was into her pussy.  She gasped and pulled on
his butt cheeks.

   I was watching my wife, my life partner, my bride, my Deb, being fucked
by a cheap stripper with a huge dong, and I was so turned on I almost came
on the spot.  And at the same time I wanted to run in there and beat the
living crap out of the bastard.

   Perhaps it was an atavistic instinct.  Maybe I'd been conditioned after
twenty years of monogamous bliss.  As turned on as I was my head was
swelling with the jealousy of a jilted lover.  I had to remind myself that
I was the one who wanted this.  I had hoped we would join the swinging
lifestyle and talked her into trying it out, and she was the one who had
resisted.  As conflicted as I felt, the scene before me was an incredible
turn on.

   The buzzer went.  I ducked into the observation room opposite.  Randy
came to the door, looked around, and went back to Debbie.  I stepped back
into the observation area in time to hear him say "There's no one out
there." He bent his knees, rubbed his knob against her then slipped it in
again.  I could see her straining to pull her knees as far apart as
possible, saw the huge cock going into her wetness, saw the labia straining
around its girth, saw her pussy juice glistening on his impossibly thick
shaft--watched him pumping in and out of my wife.

   Then I saw Deb's eyes snap open.  It was as if she was waking from a
dream, and I knew she was changing her mind.  I quickly went down the hall,
and headed straight for the bar.  I dropped a block of ice into each of our
drinks, then wandered back toward the observation room as Deb stepped out,
followed by Randy who was now wearing his G-string again, though it didn't
hide anything.

   "Hey, hon.  The bar's pretty crowded.  Here," and I handed her the wine
glass.  I ignored Randy and put my arm around her.  "You okay?"

   "Yes, of course."

   "Okay.  I think the party's winding up." We had stepped into the main
hall.  There was still a small crowd at the bar, but the place was emptying
and most of the people had dressed again.

   "Good.  I want to go home."

   In the car, I asked "So how was your lap dance?"

   "Good."

   "Just good?"

   "It was fun, I suppose." She was trying to be non-committal.  The rest
of the drive went by in silence.  At home we went straight up to our
bedroom, Deb stripped and climbed between the sheets, and when I joined her
she reached out for a hug.  "You okay?" I asked again.  She just nodded,
held the long embrace.

   She turned over, pushed her butt back and lifted her leg slightly. 
"Come into me, Neil."

   Despite being in the most intense sexual situation of my life earlier
that night, I hadn't come yet.  I slipped into Deb.

   "That guy.  The stripper."

   "Yes?"

   "He--he got a bit intimate."

   "Isn't a lap dance supposed to be intimate?"

   "But this was very intimate.  His cock actually kinda slipped into me.
I'm sorry, Neil.  I made him stop-"

   I wrapped my arms around her, but kept my rhythm going.  "It's okay. 
That's what happens at a swingers club."

   "Do you love me?"

   "More than you can imagine." I came in about ten more strokes.  Not very
satisfactory.  My erection faded fast but I kept my cock in her, kept my
arms around her.  We often went to sleep that way.

   "I love you, too Neil."

   "Love you, babe."

   I was drifting off, when she asked in a timid voice.  "When can we go
again?"

   FIVE

   I don't know if I expected dramatic changes in our day-to-day lives
after our first somewhat tentative attempt at swinging, but it surprised me
a little when life just carried on as normal.  Deb seemed more attentive
and cuddled tighter and longer than usual, and I reciprocated.  Sex was
long and slow and loving, and nothing in our conversations touched on the
events at the 'Dream Catchers Dance and Social Club', aka my new favorite
place.

   I took all of this as a positive sign.  If the Dream Catchers swingers
club was going to provide a vehicle for our occasional adventures, and
would not harm our marriage, then I was all in.

   About three weeks after our first visit to the club, Deb told me that
Dave and Maureen had invited us to an evening barbecue the next Saturday.

   We arrived on time.  Maureen greeted us in the kitchen with a brief hug
and a kiss.  Through the window I saw Dave putting beers into a cooler in
the gazebo next to the pool.  I had always been impressed by their home.  A
lot of it had been bought with Maureen's inheritance, and I know Dave was
well paid.  Debbie had a similar inheritance to Maureen's, of course, but
we'd agreed that she should invest it in something solid and conservative.

   Deb and Maureen stayed in the kitchen doing things to salads, and I went
out to the gazebo.  'Hey, Dave!"

   There were no greetings or pleasantries from Dave.  He simply handed me
a cold one and asked "so, anything new going on in your life?" He sat down
heavily on a deck chair.

   It was an odd, and obviously a loaded question, though I didn't know
what he was getting at.  I spread my hands and looked around the gazebo and
the lush garden around the pool.  "Same old same old, I guess.  What do you
mean?"

   "Maureen told me."

   "Huh?"

   "I guess Debbie wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but I heard y'all went
to a little--shall we say party house?"

   I flushed.  I'm not comfortable talking about intimate issues with
friends, and less so with family.  These things should remain private, and
I was annoyed with Deb.  "Yeah, we thought we'd just take a look.  See what
it was all about.  I don't think we'll ever go again." I knew that was a
lie.  I'd been watching the club's calendar of events and wondering when we
could plan our second visit.

   "Riiiight," he guffawed.  "Jesus, you've always been Mr.  Straight laced
preppie!  So gimme the lowdown on this place?  What happens there?"

   "You're better off checking out their web site, Dave.  We saw a lot
of...stuff.  We weren't active participants though, just hung around
together and had too much to drink and watched people getting it on."

   "Christ, Neil.  You, of all people.  I'm proud of you, man!"

   "Don't be.  It was just a little experiment.  Not much happened." Dave
studied me closely.  "What?" I raised my hands.

   "So how has it affected you and Deb?  I mean has it fucked things up
between you?  Or has it--ya know, pulled you closer together?"

   "I wouldn't say it's made any difference to us-"

   "Well you look like a pair of love-struck kids.  I saw you hanging on to
each other like teenagers when you came in." I shrugged it off and changed
the subject.

   The ladies came out with snacks, and Maureen took the deck chair next to
Dave.  He stood immediately and announced "Let's get this thing going,"
pointing to the grill, and set about preparing the meats.

   While we watched the burger patties sizzling, Maureen came up to us and
put an arm around Dave.  He broke it off and went to the cooler.  "Anyone
for another drink?" Dave's beer was still half full, but he extracted a new
one.  Deb caught my eye and shook her head slightly.  She'd also seen the
signs that there was trouble in this little corner of paradise.

   When the burgers and dogs were done we put them on the garden table, in
the shade of the gazebo, alongside the salads.  The ladies sat down first
and Dave took a seat at the opposite end of the table from Maureen. 
Conversation was light and everything seemed normal on the surface, but
there was an unmistakable undercurrent of stress between our host couple.

   Later, the ladies were cleaning up in the kitchen and Dave and I were
scrubbing down the grill and folding away the deck chair cushions.  He hit
me with a question that was so out of context that it was obvious that he'd
wanted to ask it all day.  Perhaps the half dozen beers had loosened him
up. "Listen - about that club.  I gotta ask you some questions, man.  Are
you sure you and Deb were okay afterward?  I mean, doesn't it bug you that
you were, you know, with other people?  I mean, I dunno, man.  I can see
the appeal, but what if she like--enjoys it a bit too much?  And what if
you can't perform?  I mean we aren't twenty-one year old kids anymore,
right?  What if I go there but little Davey won't stand to attention?"

   "That's a lot of questions, and I don't have all the answers, Dave. 
About getting it up--I don't know about any other clubs, but most of the
members at this place are our age or older.  Not many hot chicks or young
studs to show you up.  And how would you feel about your wife getting it on
with someone else?  I can't answer that, but I would caution you.  Discuss
it first.  At length and in detail.  You need to figure out what each of
you wants out of this thing, how far you're prepared to go, and most
important, you need to know your limits."

   "Jeez, man, you sound like you're reciting some pop-psych magazine
article," he chuckled.

   "I'm serious, Dave.  Whatever you'd like to think, Deb and I didn't do
much, and we made sure we were on the same page before we went there.  We
had a list of dos and don'ts."

   "Well like I said before, it seems you an' Deb have been pretty
lovey-dovey lately.  I guess it worked for you."

   On the way home, Deb told me that while they were in the house, Maureen
had been asking similar questions.

   "What the hell is happening between them, Deb?  I mean Dave seems to be
doing everything he can to keep his distance from her, yet Maureen wants to
take him to a sex club." I was still angry about Deb telling her sister
we'd been to the club, but that could wait.

   "They're having problems," she said.  "Dave is being a bit weird.  He's
keeping Maureen at arm's length--and he's having ED problems.  Or maybe the
problems are because of the ED."

   "Erectile Dysfunction?"

   "That's what Maureen says.  Dave's told her that she just doesn't turn
him on anymore, but Maureen thinks he's covering up the fact that he's
having problems with his...plumbing."

   "There are pills for that."

   "He won't take them.  Now she thinks the club will help her sort out
Dave's problems.  You know--find something that will turn him on, get him
interested in sex again, and they both benefit.  And that's only half of
the problem.  On the one hand, Dave's pushing her away.  But on the other
hand, Maureen's over compensating.  She's smothering him, and she's trying
to fix her problems with sex, like she always does."

   "What!" I blurted.  "What do you mean 'she always tries to fix problems
with sex'?"

   As I navigated the dark streets to our home, she looked at me for a long
time before she said in a small voice "Jesus, Neil, we've known each other
so well, and for such a long time, and I love you so much.  Yet there's so
much you don't know." She sighed.  "So much..."

   I'm a logical person and have an analytical mind, and I was unsettled
about a number of inconsistencies.  The rest of the drive was silent.  At
home I tried to make sense of it all while I went about usual household
chores like putting out the trash and recycling, locking the garage, and
showering to get rid of the smell of the barbecue smoke.

   Dave and Maureen were having problems.  Fine, I got that.  The sisters
had been raised in the same home by a society-conscious mother and a father
who was CEO of an armaments manufacturer with annual sales to the Pentagon
that ran into the billions.  Yet although the twins were physically
identical, their personalities couldn't be more different.  Deb was a lady,
in every sense.  Cultured, elegant, and well spoken.  She made friends
easily and was the most well-adjusted person I knew.

   Maureen did not share those qualities and came across as a poor girl
made good.  She'd been to the same college as Debbie, yet she spoke like an
uneducated person.  She bought expensive clothes but didn't have her twin's
fashion sense.  Most of her social life was with Deb's friends who allowed
her into their clique.  She'd never had kids and I'd never seen signs of a
nurturing personality, yet she loved Dave passionately.  And now--Deb's
statement that Maureen "always tries to fix everything with sex"?  It all
spoke to an incredibly insecure personality.

   And they were obviously hiding dark secrets about their past.

   And what about Deb?  I was still intrigued by her brief but very
intimate session with the stripper, Randy, or whatever his name was.

   I loved the fact that she'd been adventurous at the club.  But that also
scared me.  She'd been so turned on by a stud with a huge dick that she had
actually allowed him to enter her most private place with almost no
hesitation.  It wasn't a long courtship or a one night fling or anything
that had been premeditated.  The decision was spontaneous.  Yet it was in
the context of a swingers club, so I had no right to complain.  But I was
shaken by how quickly and easily it had happened.

   Deb was already in bed and she opened her arms inviting a hug.  "I know
you have a lot of questions, hon.  I'll explain--but right now I just need
you to hold me." She held on for a long time, and I felt tears on my
shoulder.

   "You never knew my parents."

   "No." I'd seen pictures and knew them by reputation.  Her mom was petite
and energetic, always dressed and made up as if she was on her way to a
royal gala.  She was a classic Washington-area social climber, and did
whatever she could to elevate her and her family's status in high society.
From the accounts I'd heard her dad was at once charismatic, gruff, and
judgmental.  After business school he'd entered the corporate world and
climbed to the highest levels.  He was used to giving orders and being
obeyed, and I always had the impression that I would have been a
disappointing choice for his favorite debutante if we'd ever met.  They had
been killed in an auto accident while Deb and Maureen were juniors in
college.

   "I've told you about them, but there's also a lot I've never told you."

   "Okay--tell me what I don't know.  And does this have anything to do
with you and Maureen being so different?"

   "Everything." The tears were flowing now.  "Everything!"

   She took a long slow breath.  "I think I was the only person Dad knew
who would stand up to him.  Probably the only person who ever told him 'no'
and refused him anything.  Maureen was the opposite.  Dad always had such
high standards, and Maureen always felt that she disappointed him, so she
was always trying to find ways to please him.  It was pathetic sometimes.

   "It might surprise you, but I was a very late bloomer in terms of sex. I
mean I knew all about it and had seen porn and so on, but I'd never
actually experienced it, in any way, until I was almost out of my teens.

   "Remember, Maureen and I took two gap years between high school and
college.  I was nineteen, and we'd just started college.  We'd been home
for the weekend, and on the Sunday, Maureen told Mom she was sick and
stayed home rather than going back to school.

   "School was only an hour's drive, in northern Maryland, so I cut class
early that Monday and drove home to see how she was doing.  Dad's Mercedes
was in the driveway, but Mom's car wasn't.

   "I went in, and there were sounds coming from Maureen's room.  I thought
she was coughing or sniffing or something.  I went down the hallway, and
her door was open..."

   "Oh, Jesus," I said.  "You're not going to tell me-"

   She sniffed, wiped her cheeks, and continued.  "Maureen and Dad were
naked.  She lay there with her knees apart, while Daddy rubbed his dick
against her clit..."

   "What did you do?" I asked gently, still holding Deb.

   "Christ, I was an eighteen-year-old virgin who didn't know anything and
was petrified of my father.  Sure I'd seen porn before, but this was
different.  Very different.  What the fuck could I do?  Believe it or not,
besides the naughty videos, I'd never even seen a naked man before.  I was
out of my mind with fear.  Dad's cock was huge!  My mind was a blur.  My
father was about to have sex with my sister.  His massive cock was going to
hurt her.  I had to stop it!

   "So what did I do?  God help me, I just stood there and watched.  I was
too scared to do anything else.  Oh God, I wish I'd stopped it!"

   Deb was sobbing now, but she continued.  "Dad's cock slid right into
Maureen.  I was expecting her to cry out, but she didn't try to stop him.
She...she smiled.  She was enjoying it!  They'd obviously done this before.
The weird thing was how excited I felt.  I was shocked and confused and
angry, yet I had this thrilling feeling in my gut.  It was weird.  Dad was
pumping into my sister.  I should have been screaming at him, clawing him,
stopping him.  Instead I just watched with a kind of morbid fascination.

   "Dad eventually pulled out of her.  He kneeled next to her and shoved
his cock in her mouth.  I don't think she could take much more than his
cock-head.  Then he grunted, and the next thing I knew the cum was spilling
from her mouth.  Dad stood up and I sneaked into my room and didn't move.
Christ, I was too scared to breathe.  I just lay on my bed, pretending to
sleep, so if anyone saw me I could pretend that I didn't see or hear
anything."

   I had a hundred questions but said nothing, just held her.

   "God, I felt so confused.  I didn't leave my room for the rest of the
day, and I cried all night.  And--I think I masturbated to orgasm at least
5 times that night.

   "This wasn't ham acting on a porn flick.  This was real, and it was
confusing, and I was so goddamned conflicted in so many ways!" She shook
her head, visualizing those scenes from more than two decades ago.  "And
that, dear husband," she chuckled though it came out as a sob, "was my
baptism to the joys of sex."

   "Do you know if he and Maureen got together after that time?  It sounds
like it might have been a regular thing."

   "Oh hell yes, I caught them lots of times.  Worse, I figured out that
Dad had started it when we were much younger, and he'd probably been
abusing her for years."

   "Didn't you confront him about it?  You were nineteen, and you were the
only one who stood up to your Dad.  God, one phone call and he'd have been
in jail for the rest of his life."

   "Yeah--one phone call-and my whole family would be destroyed!  Remember,
this was the early '80s, and things were different then.  No, I didn't call
anyone.  And no, I never confronted him."

   "Did you at least confront Maureen about it?"

   She shook her head.  "They never knew that I knew, and I never said
anything.  And worse--after that first time, I used to look for the
opportunities that Dad would have to get Maureen on her own.  Then I'd
sneak in to see if anything was happening.  Sure enough, I'd catch them at
it more often than not.

   "I was old enough and wise enough to do something about it, but I
didn't. By now they were all consenting adults.  Family, sure, but old
enough to make their own decisions.  And every time I saw them together,
Maureen was smiling or giggling, encouraging him.  Don't judge me, Neil,
but my conscious decision was to leave them be.  And as much as I hated it,
it was also a turn-on for me.  Weird..."

   "And your mom never knew?"

   Deb started shaking now, sniffing the tears away.  "Oh, she knew. 
Jesus, she knew alright."

   "And she didn't stop it?"

   "Hah!" Deb's laugh came out as a cackle.  "So maybe a year later-" she
took a deep breath.  "Summer.  A bunch of girls from college had planned to
go to Ocean City for a weekend.  I was going, but Maureen decided to stay
home.  Some of the girls started squabbling about something before we even
left.  Who knows what the argument was, but I decided to skip the trip and
went home.  I stepped into the house, and there were sounds coming from Mom
and Dad's room.  I went by Maureen's room, but she wasn't there.  I was a
pretty accomplished sneak by now, and I took my shoes off and padded down
the hallway to the main bedroom.

   "The first thing I saw was my goddam mother.  She was sitting
cross-legged at the head of the bed, naked.  Maureen was lying on the bed,
naked and spread-eagled, with her head in Mom's lap.  And Dad was on top of
Maureen, fucking her like there's no tomorrow, while Mom was running her
fingers through Maureen's hair whispering soft nothings!"

   "Jesus Christ," I whispered.

   "I couldn't believe what I was seeing!" Deb was angry now.  "Dad pumped
into her and came pretty quickly-came right into her.  Then he pulled it
out, no condom, mind you, and stepped over to my Mom.  Mom sucked Dad's wet
dick clean while Maureen reached up and stroked his balls."

   SIX

   We didn't sleep that night.  Deb talked and I listened.

   "I was the studious sister.  As a child I absorbed my mom's lessons
about fashion and decorum and elocution and whatever she thought we needed
to get on in the world.  I used to joke that I attended 'Mom's finishing
school'.  In high school I was always at the top of my class and I was
active in the track and tennis programs.  I was a mediocre competitor, but
I was enthusiastic--which made Dad happy.

   "I dated carefully, I avoided intimate situations with boys and believe
it or not, I never had any sexual experiences of my own until I was
nineteen, almost twenty.  And I had a pretty good circle of friends
although when I think back, most of them were the daughters of my mom's
friends, who she selected very carefully."

   At three in the morning we went to the kitchen where Deb made hot tea
and put out cheese and crackers, and she talked until the morning sun
angled through the blinds.

   "Maureen and I always had our own rooms in college.  We were off-campus
because Dad could afford it.  But things changed fast when Mom and Dad died
in the accident, in our junior year.  We decided to be roomies in our
senior year.  That was when she finally opened up and I first began to
really understand my twin sister.  Does that sound weird?"

   I said nothing, just held her hand across the table while she sipped her
tea.

   "I know this sounds snobbish, but I honestly wonder if Maureen and I had
the same IQ.  It never seemed that way.  Her report card always
disappointed our dad.  And she was a tomboy, which disappointed our mom. 
So Maureen used to fawn over Dad to win his approval in other ways.  I
guess he saw the opportunity to let her please him in his own special way.

   "It was in that senior year when I finally understood that my parents
had apparently decided to groom me for success, but had given up on
Maureen. I don't know, I guess they treated her as a fun little thing they
could play with in the bedroom late at night."

   Her voice sounded detached, as if she was commenting on someone else's
life.  But there was anguish in her eyes.  I couldn't get over the image of
my late father-in-law having sex with my sister-in-law, while my late
mother-in-law comforted her.  The images were at once erotic and
disturbing.

   "Maureen finally opened up to me that year.  We must have been
twenty-two.  Turns out the abuse had started years before.  But Maureen
said it was the only way she could please Dad and Mom, and by the time she
was eighteen she'd learned to enjoy the sex anyway.

   "I don't know if it was despite the sex with our parents, or maybe
because of it--but she went off the rails in high school and the early
years of college.  She drank and experimented with drugs.  She moved with a
bad crowd, and always dated the worst boys she could find.

   "You know that Dave was a poor kid who grew up in bad circumstances, but
managed to pull himself through it all.  I think that's what attracted
Maureen to him when they met in our final months in college.  She settled
down at that point.  Maybe it was Dave who calmed her down, maybe it was
because she and I had finally started talking about the weird relationship
she'd had with our parents.  I used to think I was setting a good example
for her, but who knows what was going on in her mind.  But Dave was good
for her."

   "So she and Dave have more in common that I'd realized, but that makes
it harder to understand why their relationship is strained right now," I
said.  "And I think I understand why you said that Maureen always tried to
solve her problems with sex, and why she thinks that going to the club will
fix their relationship."

   "That's right."

   Then I switched gears.  Something had been worrying me since the
conversation started.  "I have an important question.  Did your dad, or
your mom, ever try anything sexual with you?"

   "No.  Never." Her voice was firm.  "I've always wondered why not.  As I
said before Dad knew I was afraid of him, but he also knew that I would
stand up for myself and he probably wouldn't get away with it.  Yet my
sister seemed to invite it.  I think they...God, I hate to say this about
my own twin, but they knew she was weaker, and they exploited her for it."

   Deb stood and switched the kettle on again.  We were silent while the
water boiled and she poured herself another cup.  Black, two sugars.

   "I'm surprised that you've never told me about this before.  I thought
there were no secrets between us?"

   "After we graduated, and Maureen had straightened her life up a bit, she
made me promise something.  A sort of pact between twins.  We agreed that
no one would ever know about Maureen and my parents.  That would be a
secret we wouldn't even tell our husbands.  But I just broke that promise,
didn't I?" She looked at me with sad eyes.  "Dave doesn't know about any of
this, Neil, and you can't tell him."

   We went back to bed well after sunrise.  Before we dozed off, Deb said
"There's something else I need to tell you.  It might be more of a shock
than what I've already told you.  Or maybe you'll be turned on by it, I
don't know."

   "I'm listening."

   "Not now.  We need to sleep." She snuggled up beside me then turned her
back and I spooned in behind her.  I slept restlessly with disturbing
dreams, and rose to scratchy eyes at noon.

   SEVEN

   The muggy days of late July dragged by slowly.  The pressure at work was
intense and despite daylight savings, I got home after dark more often than
not.

   I didn't see much of Dave at work but from what little I saw, and
according to scuttlebutt around the office, there was a behavior profile
that concerned me.  His financial department was worried about him, he was
moody and snapped at his staff, and he was distracted and unfocused in
meetings.

   * * * * *

   I'd been watching the swinger club's online calendar, and had my eye on
a planned 'party' at the end of the month.  I mused over how to put the
suggestion to Deb.

   "I got an email from the club.  Says there's a party next Saturday
night," I told her one evening.  I hoped it sounded like a throwaway
comment, one that I could build on in later conversation.

   "Really?" she smiled.  "What shall I wear?" I gave her a puzzled look,
and she laughed.  "Don't worry, I won't be wearing anything!"

   That was easier than I expected.  When I'd first raised swinging as a
possibility Deb was firmly against it.  Now she seemed as eager as I was.

   * * * * *

   We rolled up the long driveway to the mansion in suburban Maryland.  We
were about an hour late and I estimated that there must be twenty cars
there.  That probably meant forty people.  On our first visit there were
only thirty or so.  Then I noticed a small silver Porsche that looked
familiar, but said nothing to Deb.

   Mary, who co-owned the club with her husband Stuart, welcomed us at the
front door.  "Lovely to see you again, Neil.  Look at you, handsome as
ever! And Deborah, you're gorgeous.  Good God, you and your sister really
are identical!" Deb just smiled.  I knew I'd seen Dave's sports car
outside. "Go through," she pointed to the door.  "The party's just warming
up downstairs.  I think everyone's here."

   The music was loud, the lights were dim, and the dance floor was packed
with naked or semi-naked couples.  We found a love seat near the bar and I
fetched drinks.  No sign of Dave or Maureen.  Deb and I stripped down, and
spread a towel over the seat, and watched for a while.  The attempts at
dirty dancing were amusing.  No one took the dancing technique seriously,
but there was no question about the erotic intentions.

   I took Deb's hand and we went up the hall to the rooms.  We'd missed
tonight's live sex show, but a hot young twenty-something with silicone
breasts was doing lap dances in the small observation room.

   The big observation room was more interesting and five or six people
stood at the glass wall as three couples cavorted together inside.  It was
hard to tell male from female, or who was penetrating whom.  My erection
stood proud in less than a minute.  This was sex heaven for me, but Deb
pulled me away.

   Two of the party room doors showed red lights, which meant the occupants
wanted privacy.  I guessed that Dave and Maureen might be in one of those
private rooms.  The third door had no light.  Deb opened it and peered in.
The room was empty, and the brand new sheets on the king size beds were
pristine and unused.

   "We should turn on the red light," suggested Deb.  She didn't see that I
flipped the switch to green.

   There was no hurry.  We held each other for a long time, with my hard-on
trapped comfortably against her belly.  We kissed long and slow, and her
hands went to my butt cheeks and pulled me tight against her.  After a time
she whispered "I love you" in my ear, then sat on the corner of the bed and
took my cock in her hands and licked the pre-cum off the tip.  She smiled
up at me, then took the knob in her mouth.

   Deb had just started sucking when the door opened.  "Hi!  Mind if we
come in?" Mary stepped into the room, followed by a man I hadn't seen
before.

   Deb stood and wiped the wetness from her mouth, and my cock dripped
before me with my pre-cum and her saliva.  "This is my friend Greg," said
Mary.  "Greg, this is Neil and Deborah".

   I smiled.  "Hey, Mary," then gave Greg a "How ya doin'?" and nodded.

   "The light was green," she said, sensing my awkwardness.

   "Oops," I said with a smile.  I'd deliberately left the light in the
green position hoping someone would join us, but I hadn't expected to be so
uncomfortable when it happened.

   Mary's experience in swinger situations was evident, and ever the
consummate hostess, she took over.  Her voice was comforting.  "Neil, this
is wonderful.  You're one of the best-looking men here tonight.  Deborah,
you're so lucky!  Greg here is a dear friend, and we've been playing
together for years."

   Greg was about my size, perhaps a bit more flabby about the waist, and
completely bald.  No eyebrows, no pubic hair, no chest hair.  Alopecia,
perhaps?  It didn't matter.  His large penis and hairless balls had caught
Debbie's attention.

   "I've been watching you two.  You seem so close!  I love to see that,"
continued Mary.  "And you haven't socialized much, you just keep to
yourselves.  What a lovely couple.  Deborah, do you mind?" Without waiting,
she reached for my cock and stroked it, spreading the wetness.  I looked at
Debbie.  She just smiled.

   Mary must have been fifteen years older than me, but she was petite and
attractive.  Her tits had a slight sag that is inevitable with age.  I was
no expert at breast sizes but I guessed them to be B-cups.  Her long gray
hair fell down her back in waves, and her pubic area was completely clean.
Probably lasered, Like Deb.

   "Oh, look at you, getting excited!" she chuckled as she squeezed my cock
and scooped a wad of pre-cum, then licked her fingers.

   She turned to Greg and stroked his growing erection with her other hand.
Greg had been eyeing my naked wife and apparently approved.  "Deborah,
isn't this just gorgeous?  Here, feel!".  She took Deb's hand and gently
pulled her closer to Greg.  "So smooth.  And here too." She felt Greg's
balls.  "No hair at all!  Isn't that nice?"

   Debbie stroked her hands over Greg's genitals.  "Hmmm, very nice," she
agreed.

   I felt the awkwardness slipping away, and put my left arm around Mary's
waist and moved my right hand to her breast.  It hung lower than I was used
to, and the pert nipple was surprisingly large and pointed upward.  I
massaged it between my finger and thumb and enjoyed the feel, which was
completely different to Deb's.

   "Ah," sighed Mary.  She turned to me, clasped her hands behind my neck,
and rubbed her belly against my erection.  "I was hoping we'd get to play
together."

   I glanced left.  Debbie had both hands cupped around Greg's balls, and
he was rubbing the palms of his hands over her nipples.  Once again I felt
an irrational twinge of jealousy.  It only lasted a second before logic and
common sense took over.  I leaned down and took one of Mary's thick nipples
in my mouth.  There was a soft gasp.  I moved to the other nipple and there
was a soft moan.

   "This is lovely, Neil, but I'm not usually big on foreplay." I stood,
and pushed Mary gently onto the bed behind her.

   She parted her knees which displayed her enlarged inner labia.  They
were red and swollen and ripe and protruded well past her pussy lips, and I
couldn't help myself.  I kneeled and leaned in quickly, and those inner
lips were a comfortable mouthful.  There was a faint odor of perspiration,
which I didn't mind, and as I sucked on her the rich smell of her vaginal
fluids took over.

   I felt the bed move as someone, presumably my wife, sat next to us.

   I slipped my tongue between Mary's folds and slid it up to her clit,
which was tiny and difficult to locate behind its hood.  Mary gasped again.
Her juices were flowing now.  I ran my tongue up her slit in three or four
strokes, savoring the taste, enjoying the effect it had on her each time
the rough surface of my tongue rubbed her clit.

   My erection was so hard it was painful.  I stood and lifted her legs. 
Mary's pussy was dripping with her juices and my saliva, and her labia were
plump and bright red.

   Deb was lying on the bed next to Mary.  Like me, Greg stood before her,
ready for action.  I had always marveled at the way my wife could bring her
knees almost to her ears.  She was so exposed that way, so vulnerable, so
inviting.  Greg was rubbing his thick knob against Debbie's slit.  It was
glistening wet, and I could hear the slurping sound as he stirred his cock
at Deb's entrance.  The stranger next to me would be fucking my wife any
moment now, and I was shivering.  Was it excitement?  Anticipation?  Fear,
perhaps?  Watching his big cock parting Debbie's pussy lips was probably
the most sensual thing I had ever seen.

   Deb caught my eye and smiled.  "You okay?" I asked softly

   She nodded and mouthed "I love you."

   I blew her a kiss.

   Mary had said she wasn't big on foreplay, and I didn't want to wait any
longer.  I pushed my dick against her gently.  Her vagina opened easily and
in one single stroke I slid in until my trimmed pubic hairs brushed her
bare mons.

   "Oh God," she said softly.  "Yes, that's what I need!" I pulled all the
way out, not quite losing contact, then shoved all the way in again.  Long
strokes, as deep as I could make them.  Mary wasn't as tight as Deb, and
she produced more fluids.  Her eyes were unfocused in a sort of Zen state.

   As I pumped slowly and deliberately into Mary's loose wetness, my eyes
were on Debbie.  Greg was hammering into her, fast and furious and Deb
emitted soft grunts every time he bottomed out.  I watched the motion of
her tits, I listened to her fast breaths, I heard the thump-thump as Greg's
balls slapped her ass, and I could see her slick pussy juices shining on
Greg's cock each time he withdrew.

   I took Debbie's hand, and our eyes locked.  It was the weirdest
situation, and went against every value I had always held sacred, and it
was the most sensuous thing I'd ever experienced.  I held my wife's hand
and we looked lovingly into each other's eyes even as I continued my
deliberate, strong thrusts into Mary, and Greg rooted into Deb away like an
animal.

   Mary was still in some kind of Zen-land, but I soon reached the point of
no return.  The pressure in my balls, the thrill in my shaft, the
sensitivity at my tip--I had a few seconds at the most.  "Mary, I can't
hold it.  Where-"

   "Here," she pointed to her belly.  "Come on me, here."

   I pulled out of her warm, wet pussy.  It took just a few hard strokes
with my hand and I groaned loudly.  I felt the sperm rushing through the
base of my shaft.  I squeezed it hard, pumped four or five more times then
relaxed the grip and came like a fire hose.  I groaned again with the
blessed release.  A rope of cum went onto her belly, then several short
spurts fell, rather than shot, onto her bare mons.

   That set Deb off, and she yelled, then went into a series of short,
sharp breaths, and her body shook from head to toe as her orgasm engulfed
her.

   "I'm coming too," announced Greg.  "Where do you want it?"

   "Inside," said Deb breathlessly.  "Come into me!" I was surprised, but
let it go.  Greg was silent but his expression was intense as his pace
slowed and became more deliberate.  "Oh, Jesus," she exclaimed.  "That
feels so good!" Greg's thick cock was still pumping into her, still hard.
"Oh shit, that's nice!"

   Deb seemed to collapse, and Greg withdrew his cock from her slowly,
sensuously.  Cum leaked from her pussy and ran down her ass crack.  She
looked at me again.  "Was it good for you?"

   I just smiled, and at that moment I loved her more than ever.  Then I
turned my attention back to Mary.

   You haven't come yet, Mary.  Do you want-"

   "Oh, sweetie, don't you worry about me." My flaccid tool slipped away
from her as she pulled back into a sitting position on the bed.  "I had
such a good time." Her smile was genuine.

   Always the clean-freak, Debbie reached for a tissue and wiped.

   Mary stood, gave me a brief kiss on the lips and whispered "Thank you,
Neil", then took Greg by the hand and left the room.

   I flipped the switch by the door to red, went over to my wife, and
hugged her tight.  "It looked like you were enjoying yourself," I said.

   "You too." Deb smiled.

   "We've always talked about doing something like this.  You sure you're
okay with it?"

   "I'm fine, Neil.  We both had fun.  We were together.  I love you.  Now
stop worrying!"

   We left the room, and joined about half a dozen of the club members
milled about in the area between the two observation rooms.  Mary was
there. She hadn't cleaned up, and my cum was crusting on her lower torso.
It was the first time we saw Dave and Maureen that night, and it was the
first time I'd seen either of them naked.  Dave and I did a brief "Hey" and
a fist pump.  Deb and Maureen hugged briefly, and I couldn't help watch
their bare tits crush together.

   Up to now, I'd always focused on the difference between the twins.  It
had been necessary when I first met them because it helped with
identification, but it had become a habit.  Maureen was a quarter of an
inch taller and walked with less grace, their hair styles were similar but
never quite the same, and Deb's complexion was a perfect porcelain while
her twin was a bit more sun bronzed and a few wrinkles were starting to
show.  Maureen was the tomboy, Deb was the girlie-girl.

   But seeing them side by side now, completely nude, I was struck by how
closely they resembled each other.  Both had hairless pubic areas, their
breasts were identical, and both could afford to lose ten pounds but were
still strikingly attractive despite being in their forties.  And with their
hair down and without Maureen's glasses, the expression "identical twins"
took new meaning.

   The four of us focused on the scenes behind the glass.  A couple on the
far side of the observation room was in a 69 position.  Closer to us, a guy
was on his back while a middle-aged woman rode him in reverse cowboy style.
She faced us and was leaning back which exposed her slit and his wet tool
beautifully.  They were obviously performing for the crowd.

   Maureen reached over and tapped Debbie's shoulder, and in just a few
seconds they had a secret conversation that no one else would ever
comprehend.  I'd seen the twins communicate this way before and it defied
explanation.  Their eyes flicked back and forth and their expressions
conveyed esoteric messages.

   Maureen caught Dave's attention and waved, and Deb looked at me and
winked.  Then the two of them stepped, hand-in-hand, into the observation
room.

   Confused, I stepped forward to follow, but Deb held up her hand in the
universal symbol for "Wait".

   Dave gave me a puzzled look and I shrugged my shoulders.

   In the observation room, the naked sisters climbed onto the bed closest
to the window.  They kneeled on the mattress, wrapped their arms around
each other in a loving embrace, belly-to-belly, tits crushed against each
other, and kissed deeply.

   My jaw dropped.  Dave looked at me.  "Dude, what the fuck?" He asked
quietly.

   My eyes went from Dave to our wives and back again.  "I don't have a
clue, Dave, but I'd guess this isn't their first time together.  Did you
know anything about this?"

   "We've been married for twenty-three fucking years.  You two, what,
twenty years?  And neither of us had a goddam clue?" He shook his head. 
"Maureen, I dunno, maybe.  But Deb?  She's Miss prissy goodie-two-shoes,
right?  So what the fuck is this?"

   Maureen's hands were on Deb's buttocks now and they ground their pubes
together.  Debbie teased her sister's nipple, and the deep kissing
continued.

   A crowd was gathering at the observation window now.  Over the loud
music coming down the hall, I could hear whispers of "twins" and "sisters"
and "two chicks together."

   I ignored them.

   The women separated, and my wife lay on her back.  Maureen looked up at
Dave and twiddled her fingers at him and winked.  She leaned over Deb's
breast and sucked for a moment, then moved down to her crotch and parted
Deb's knees.  She stroked Debbie's wet pussy and rubbed her fingers over
the clit area in a slow, circular motion.  We could hear Deb's low moan. 
Maureen gently pushed her fingers between her twin's moist pussy lips,
exploring and teasing until Deb writhed under her.

   Maureen planted her lips on Deb's exposed vulva.  Her tongue slipped in
and out of Deb's pussy with quick, lapping movements.  She used her fingers
to pull back the hood, and I could see her tongue flicking at my wife's
clit.  I watched Deb's reaction as she climaxed the second time that night,
listened for her familiar yell.  Her hips bucked up involuntarily, and
Maureen continued licking and rode the movements like an expert.

   Debbie collapsed, and Maureen stroked her hair lovingly and for a full
minute.

   Partly recovered, and after taking a deep breath, Deb then pulled her
knees up to her ears again as she had when she fucked Greg just ten minutes
ago.  There was evidence of that coupling--a pearl white glob of Greg's cum
seeped from her slit.  Maureen grinned, slurped it up with her tongue, then
kissed Deb again.  I watched the snowballing as they passed the cum from
mouth to mouth.

   Next to me, Dave had hardly moved.  His bulging eyes were focused on his
wife and he hardly breathed.

   Deb pushed Maureen gently onto her back and kneeled beside her.  She
pushed her thumb of her right hand deep into her twin's pussy and started
stroking, then snaked her middle finger down Maureen's ass crack and
massaged her rosebud.  The thickness of the thumb is so much more effective
than a finger, and not as rough as two fingers.  I thought I'd invented
that move when Deb and I were in bed.

   Deb used her left hand to expose Maureen's clit, which was huge.  It was
the size and shape of a ripe nipple.  Another difference between the twins.
Deb's clit was small by comparison, extremely sensitive, and well concealed
by its hood.  She massaged her twin's engorged clit between her finger and
thumb, still pumping the thumb of her other hand into Maureen's pussy,
still rubbing her sphincter.  It was a two handed assault, very intense,
and one of the most erotic things I'd ever seen.

   Despite having come all over Mary a few minutes ago, my cock stood proud
before me and a thick rivulet of pre-cum was running down my shaft.

   I glanced at Dave.  He stared at his wife, mesmerized.  His short thick
cock was in his hand and he was pumping it slowly, unconsciously.

   Debbie's right arm was a blur now as she hammered her thumb into her
sister's gash.  The palm of her hand slapped flesh and her big finger was
still deep between the ass cheeks.  When Maureen came, Deb leaned in and
kissed her deep and long.  Maureen's body whiplashed under her.  The "Ah,
ah, aaahhh AAAH" cries were muffled by Deb's kiss.

   There was an "Ooooh yesss" from one of the women spectators behind me.

   The sisters lay next to each other in a silent embrace for a full minute
before they sat up and waved at Dave and me.  There must have been ten
spectators behind us, and they burst into a spontaneous applause.

   EIGHT

   Dave and I used to play racket-ball after work every Wednesday night,
but thanks to the excessive demands of our jobs that had now slipped to
once a month.  I'd secured a monthly 5:30pm court booking at the local gym,
and made sure it was in both of our corporate schedules as a recurring
appointment marked as "out of office" and with a four-hour reminder.

   We'd both been shocked by our wives' performance at the club four days
ago, but hadn't discussed it.  All Deb had said afterwards was "Remember I
said there was something else I needed to tell you, and that it might be
more of a shock than what I'd already told you?  And that you might even be
turned on by it?  Well--now you know everything." We were both too tired to
discuss it, so I suggested that we talk about it later in the week.

   Dave arrived at the court late, as usual, which always annoyed me., We'd
booked it from 5:30 to 7:00 but he seldom had the energy to play for the
full ninety minutes, so it didn't matter.

   There was no jovial greeting.  Just a quick "Hey, let's play," and we
were on the court warming up.  He probably still felt awkward about the
events at the club.  I couldn't tell if he'd come to grips with it yet, if
he was simply embarrassed, or if he was uncomfortable with parts of his
intimate life being exposed.

   He slammed the ball into the back wall and it flew inches past my ear,
and he caught it on the rebound from the front wall and again cannoned it
with a resounding whack so I had to duck under it.

   Dave was a better player than me.  I don't have his excellent eye-hand
coordination, but I could usually wear him down.  His play became ragged
after a few games, though I was usually still fresh and the points would
start going my way.  So the day's winner often depended on how long we
played.

   He caught the ball after a weak bounce off the back wall and looked at
me.

   "You ready?" I asked.

   "US rules.  Best of three."

   "Nah - best of five," I countered.

   "Three!" He emphasized by bouncing the ball and serving fast and low,
with no warning.  It skimmed the floor at my feet and I had no chance of
returning it.  His next serve was a blinder and I got it to the front wall
more by lucky interference than by skill.  This was going to be a
whitewash.

   Game one continued and I hardly touched the ball.  Dave's play was hard
and fast and angry, with none of our usual friendly rivalry.  I went down
by an embarrassing 15-4.

   "What the hell is wrong, Dave?  You okay?"

   "Fifteen four.  Ain't nothing wrong with that.  You gonna serve or
what?"

   "Jesus, buddy, take it easy.  You want to get a beer after the game?"

   "Your serve." He crouched, ready.  Game two.  My serve was higher than
I'd planned, and I made the mistake of a 'long serve' where the ball hits
the back wall without touching the floor first.  That's a fault, so I stood
expecting Dave to catch the ball and take over the serve.  But there was a
thwack and my back was instantly on fire.

   "Sorry," he mumbled.  "Your serve."

   "Jesus!" I yelled.  "Christ that hurts!" I held my back, waiting for the
pain to subside.  Dave just glared at me.

   Dave's hard, driving play had sapped his energy by the time the score
reached 11-7.  He was hitting wildly and I needed to duck or jump aside far
more than usual.  I ran for every ball and tried to hit them to the
opposite court, draining my opponent further.  At 13-13 he started flailing
wildly at the ball, aiming at me as often as at the wall, and at 13-15 I
had the win and we moved to game three.

   "US rules - play to eleven."

   "Okay, Dave," I said.  When your opponent is tired, I remembered from my
competitive long-distance running days, let him see how fresh you are.  So
I combed my fingers through my hair, stood straight, and gave him a broad
smile.  "Your serve."

   He scowled.

   Dave's temper flared at 5-7 in my favor and he banged his racket against
the floor every time he lost a point.  I had him and expected an easy win.
But the guy was having a hard time in his marriage.  The business pressures
were mounting on him by the day.  His wife's girl-on-girl performance at
the club had left him embarrassed and confused.  And now he was losing at a
game that was usually one of his strengths.  This was one of those times
when the cliché of discretion being the better part of valor applied.

   My next serve was supposed to be a sneaky angle-shot, but it hit two
walls before hitting the floor which is a fault.  The serve went back and
forth a few times because I didn't want to make it obvious.  He was
exhausted and I was able to manipulate play so that he took the game, and
the night's play, with an 8-11 win.

   It didn't improve his demeanor.

   We were in and out of the locker room pretty quickly.  On our way out of
the gym I asked "beer?"

   "Nah, I gotta get back home.  There's work I have to do before the
morning-" He looked up.  "What the FUCK!" I followed his eyes.

   Two badly dressed youths stood beside Dave's little silver Porsche,
smoking, laughing about something.  One of them leaned a hand against the
car's hood.

   "Fuckin' little SHITS!" he yelled across the parking lot.  "Get your
fuckin' ass offa my CAR!"

   They were nineteen, maybe twenty-year-old kids, and they didn't move. 
The bigger one leaned belligerently against the sports car, waiting for us
to arrive.  "You got a problem, fat man?" asked the smaller one.

   "You little asswipe!" Dave stepped in to the kid.  I saw, too late, that
he had his racket in his hand.

   The kid jumped at Dave and drove a fist at him but it only hit Dave's
shoulder.  Dave swung the racket and connected with the kid's ribs.  I
heard a distinct crack.  The kid cried out in a strangled falsetto and went
down.

   His buddy was bigger and came at Dave from behind, eyes focused on the
racket, forgetting about me.  I came in from the side and smacked a flat
hand against the kid's nose.  Hard enough to shock, soft enough to avoid
permanent damage.  Blood spurted, and the kid went down.

   "Get in the car.  Now!"

   Dave was quick to react.  He unlocked, we jumped in, and he peeled out
of his parking spot before anyone came to investigate the fracas.

   We pulled over beneath a street lamp a few blocks down.  "Jesus, buddy,
what the hell is wrong?" I asked.  "Talk to me!"

   "Nothing.  Just...I dunno, man, I'm still trying to figure it all out. I
guess I'm just pissed-off at everything.  You know?  Just generally
pissed."

   I nodded.

   "Maureen thought that shit the other night would be a turn-on for me.  I
mean it was hot, right?  But fuck it, I dunno-"

   "I have a good friend who has a psychology practice in Fairfax.  He does
counselling sessions, one-on-one, marriage therapy, family relationsips-"

   "Jesus, Neil, don't give me that shit, okay?  I'm a big boy, Maureen's a
big girl, and we'll figure it out ourselves.  Or not.  But I don't need to
be tellin' a fuckin' shrink how I was potty trained."

   "You can't carry on like this, Buddy.  This isn't like you.  I won't
bring it up again, but if you want this guy's contact details, I'll be
happy to help."

   Dave didn't answer, just pulled out and made his way back to the gym. 
The two kids were gone.  As he pulled up to my car I said "just remember
this.  Whatever Maureen is doing, she's doing for you.  She's trying to
keep you, trying to make you happy.  Just go with it, Dave.  Give the girl
a chance.  Don't just toss more than twenty years aside."

   "Yah, I hear you, man.  But I'll figure this out." It was as if he
hadn't heard a word I said.

   "As Deb's twin sister, Maureen is important to me.  And despite that
ball on my back before, I love you like a brother.  Now go home and be nice
to your wife."

   "Yah," he said dismissively.  "And sorry about that," he pointed at my
back.

   NINE

   "That bruise is going to be there for a while," Deb told ne as she
changed my ice pack.

   Dave's not-so-stray ball had hit me high on the buttocks, near the
spine, and thankfully about two or three inches south west of the kidney.
She wrapped the ice pack in a dish cloth and held it gently against the
welt.

   "Thanks, hon." I reached for her hand.  We sat nude, on towels as usual,
at our kitchen table.  "So I need to know more about the other night.  At
the club." She sat across the table from me and smiled.  "That was
obviously not a first-time experience for you two."

   "No," she said quietly.  "But to answer the question you're building up
to, the last time that happened was before we were married." She knew me
too well.

   "When did it start?  And did it tie in Maureen's abuse as a child?"

   "It was all in our final year at college, when we were roomies, in our
early twenties.  I'd been going steady with some jerk called Ray that I
thought I liked.  Then this Ray guy just dumped me without any explanation.
I hadn't expected it and I was an emotional wreck for a short time. 
Maureen was my rock.  She held me and said all the right things.  She was
almost like a parent.  You know, stroking my hair, telling me that she was
going to fix everything and how pretty I was and what a jerk Ray was..."
She smiled at the memory.

   "It had been the other way around for a long time.  I mean, I was the
one who was there for Maureen.  I helped her get her grades up, I got her
out of some nasty relationships, and of course I knew how damaged she was
from the way Mom and Dad had molested her all those years."

   I nodded again, and we held hands across the table.

   "While I was in my emotional state I told Maureen that Ray had been my
first serious sexual partner and I was going to miss that.  Typical of
Maureen--she had this 'sex can fix everything' dogma that she still has
today.  She drew me into an intimate conversation about what Ray and I had
done together.  Next thing she was stroking me here-" Deb rubbed her hands
over her chest.  "It felt good and it was what I needed right then so I
didn't complain.  And--I guess it just went from one thing to another..."

   "What happened next?"

   "See, you are getting turned on!" She laughed.  "It was pretty simple,
really.  Maureen started rubbing my pussy.  I didn't stop her, so she put
her hands into my panties and felt how wet I was.  Next thing we were naked
in bed and she made me come in maybe two minutes with her fingers on my
clit.

   "We both skipped lectures for the rest of the week.  My sister has a
huge sex drive and it was hard to keep up with her.  She taught me more
about the female anatomy than I'd ever known."

   "I'd say the huge sex drive thing runs in the family." I regretted it as
soon as I said it.  "I mean...you and Maureen both have a strong drive."

   "Yeah.  And My Dad did too.  And my Mom.  Perhaps it's the family
curse."

   "How long did you and Maureen, er, carry on-"

   "You mean how long did my twin sister and I continue fucking each
other?" She laughed.

   "Yeah, that."

   "We were at it pretty regularly through the rest of the year, but it
stopped when she met Dave."

   "Regularly?"

   "You're getting horny, aren't you!"

   "I'm trying not to."

   "Maybe three or four times a week.  We still dated guys.  After our
dates we'd sometimes get back into our off-campus apartment and Maureen
liked to...well, let's say she liked the taste of where I'd been."

   "Like last Saturday?" I asked.  "When she licked that Greg guy's cum
from you?"

   "Just like last Saturday.  Maureen did that because she was hoping to
turn Dave on.  Remember, in her world, sex can fix everything.  But me?  I
went with it because I knew you'd be turned on."

   "Jesus, honey, for two decades you've been the conservative wifey.  But
there's a dark side to you that I'm only now beginning to see.  You didn't
want to go to the club, but when I pushed for it, you were all-in.  I think
you're more turned on by the club than I am.  If that's possible," I
chuckled.

   Deb looked deep into my eyes.  "Neil, I'm the wife you want me to be.  I
love you, and will always do whatever it takes to make us happy.  Yes, I
have strong urges, and yes, I like to be adventurous.  But I'll never do
anything to make you uncomfortable."

   I'd always thought I was in the driver's seat in terms of our sexual
relationship.  In reality, I now knew, my wife had a stronger sex drive
than me and was far more experienced to boot.  All these years she'd been
pacing herself to keep up, or down, to my needs.

   It was a lot to take in.  Her enthusiasm at the club.  The confessions
of her lesbian couplings with her twin sister.  The revelations of
Maureen's sexual abuse by her parents.  How turned on, if conflicted, she'd
been when she watched Maureen and her parents.  The powerfully sexual
experiences of the past week.  And now, my discovery that her libido was
stronger than I had ever known.  It was almost overwhelming, and I had
never felt as close to my wife as I did now.

   "I love you, babe.  More than you could know."

   TEN

   Long ago, Deb and I fell into a lazy Sunday routine.  We'd wake up late
and read the Washington Post, nude in bed, with coffee and croissants. 
Then we'd wander over to the book store in the mall and page through
magazines over reduced-fat turkey bacon breakfast sandwiches and a second
coffee.  We usually rolled home in the early afternoon and make love on the
couch, then she'd fall asleep while I would watch a ball game.

   Glorious decadence.

   In the book store I had my usual stack pf photography, running and
hiking magazines.  Deb was browsing the books on home improvement and
interior decorating when she heard a "Hey, kiddo!" behind her.

   "Hey, Sis!"

   Maureen looked dowdy in sweats and her hair was disheveled.  Worse, she
looked old and tired.  She told us Dave was at the office, and I think she
knew we might be here.  I pulled up an extra chair, and went to get coffee
and a muffin for her.

   The sisters were in deep conversation.  I hesitated before going back to
the table, but Deb waved me over.

   Maureen was in tears as I joined the conversation.  "I swear, he's
pulling away from me.  I don't know what I've done wrong." Deb put her hand
over Maureen's.  "Jesus, Dave and I have both been through so much shit in
our lives.  We finally get to a place where we're both happy, and now-" she
trailed off.  "What have I done to deserve it?  Christ, he knows I'll do
anything to make him happy.  Anything!'

   "I know, sis," crooned Deb.  "Maybe he just needs time?"

   "Time?  That's the last thing he needs.  This has been going on for
weeks.  Months.  And with time, it's just getting worse!  He won't talk to
me.  He's always in a temper.  He blames me for the smallest things..."

   She was sobbing openly now.  We were beginning to get looks from people
at the tables around us.  Deb ignored them and held her sister's hand. 
"You know he loves you, sis.  He's just going through a hard time."

   "He blames work." She looked directly at me.  "Is it true, Neil?  Is he
really working all those hours?  Christ, tell me he doesn't have another
woman!"

   "There's no other woman," I assured her.  "And yes, his department is
under a lot of pressure and he's worked a lot of very late nights."

   "Neil's also been working late, hon," added Deb.

   "But the work pressures aren't affecting you the same way!"

   That was true.  Worse, I'd long been aware that Dave's department was
under less pressure than mine yet he worked longer and harder than I did,
delegated less, and buckled more easily under pressure from senior
management.  Was Dave just an ineffective manager, or was he using work as
an escape from home?

   "He says that woman he reports to--what's her name?  The CFO?"

   "Angela."

   "That's right.  Angry Angie, he calls her.  Says she and that woman CEO
ride his ass, says they're just looking for an excuse to replace him with
another woman.  Says he's drowning in estrogen.  Is that true, Neil?"

   "Angela is known for piling on the pressure," I replied cautiously.  I
wasn't going to tell Maureen that Angela was actually a firm but fair
manager, more like a mamma-bear than a she-wolf.  Angela was also a friend
of mine and we'd been colleagues before the merger of Dave's employers and
mine.

   "Can't anyone do anything about her?" asked Maureen.  "She's ruining our
lives!"

   I said nothing.

   "I just know that if I can keep Dave happy, you know, between the
sheets...I mean, the quickest way to a man's heart isn't through his
stomach, right?  It's about fifteen inches below his stomach." She sniffed
and looked directly at me again.  "Right?"

   I shrugged.  "We're all different.  That might or might not be the best
way to get to Dave-"

   Maureen straightened her back.  "No, there's still plenty I can do. 
I'll show him what I can do in bed.  There's a lot that he hasn't seen me
do yet.  I think know what to do to get--shall we say, get his interest
up."

   "Just be careful, hon," advised Deb.

   * * * * *

   A status meeting for the financial system conversion project was winding
up at work the next day.  Dave and two of his junior managers were the
first to leave the meeting room, and I signaled Angela, Dave's boss.  "Do
you have a few minutes?"

   "Sure, Neil, what's up?"

   I waited until we were alone and took a seat next to her.  "I'm worried
about Dave.  He's obviously under a lot of pressure.  It comes with the
job. I get that.  But it won't help the project, or his personal life, if
he burns out."

   "Funny you should mention that.  I've also had concerns."

   "Oh?"

   "He's taking on far more than he needs to, and he's delegating less than
he should.  I've spoken to him about it, and I practically spelled out what
he should delegate and to whom.  And I've had to tell him to stop doing
stuff that I should be doing.  It's like he's deliberately taking on as
much work as he can."

   "Does Dave feel threatened?" I asked.  "He seems to think he'll lose his
job if he doesn't go the extra mile, so he's going an extra ten miles."

   "Well as you know, we've just finished the quarterly performance
reviews. Dave's review was top notch.  And guess what was the only knock he
took."

   "Failure to delegate?"

   "Exactly.  You say he's feeling pressure, or burned out, or that his
job's in danger?  Well speaking as his boss, I have no idea where that's
coming from.  But I'll see what I can do.  Perhaps I can find a way to have
him back off a bit."

   "Thanks, Angie.  You're a star."

   She laughed.  "Damn, I wish you weren't married!"

   "Me too," I chuckled.  It was an ongoing joke.  We were both happily
married, and Angela and I had worked together and socialized for nearly
nine years.

   * * * * *

   Three weeks later Debbie and I were driving the now familiar roads to
suburban Maryland.  Learning that she might be more adventurous than me was
a tough pill to swallow, but I planned to explore the boundaries tonight. I
felt a twinge in my penis as we turned into the long driveway, and thought
I might already be leaking pre-cum.  I was definitely looking forward to a
lot of action tonight.

   After the preliminaries, greetings and a few dances Deb prompted me to
strip off and dance with her again.  She saw Greg on the other side of the
room and blew him a kiss, and I gave petite, naked Mary a big hug.  I
topped off our drinks and we went hand-in-hand down the hall, and I led Deb
to the big observation room.  After her and Maureen's sister-on-sister
performance last month, this room held a special significance for me.

   The three king-size beds in the big observation room were writhing with
bodies, and busier than I'd ever seen them.  I led Deb into the room. 
Greg, who'd reamed her so effectively last month, rolled off the middle bed
and greeted Debbie with a hug.  "You want to play again?"

   Deb looked at me.  I smiled nodded.  "Have fun, baby."

   "You too." As Greg led her onto the bed she mouthed "I love you" to me

   I was immediately approached by a fifty-something woman who stood my
height and rippled with athleticism.  I vaguely remembered that I'd seen
her at a triathlon at some time in the past.  She didn't say a word--just
took my cock in her hand and leaned into me, crushing her naked breasts on
my chest, and started nibbling my ear.  I reached behind her and gripped
her muscular buns and pulled her in to me.  This was going to be a fun
night.

   I didn't waste any time, or words.  She hadn't spoken and neither did I.
I moved her her to an empty spot on the bed and lay back.  She sucked my
nipples, which gave me a surprising thrill.  She moved lower and licked a
thick wad of pre-cum off my knob, then tongue kissed me.  My pre-cum had a
syrupy texture but had almost no taste.  She sucked my nipples again, and I
pushed her head gently downward.  She took the hint and swallowed my cock,
swirling her tongue around the glans, sucking, and bobbing her head.

   I looked around.  My wife was riding Greg next to me, and sucking some
guy's cock at the same time.  She caught my eye and winked, then turned her
attention back to the stranger's tool in her mouth.

   It was an all-out orgy.  Debbie was bouncing up and down on Greg's thick
shaft, and I could hear the squelching sound as she bottomed out on him.  I
watched a mature couple entertain a young stud.  The older guy was probably
in his early sixties, and held his wife's hands while the young
twenty-something entered her.  Three women were in a contorted circle
eating each other's cunts.  I recognized a minor TV personality from a
local cable channel swallowing some guys shaft while a woman was between
her legs, tongue deeply imbedded in her pussy.

   There was an odd pressure on my cock, and I saw that someone was fucking
my triathlete from behind, while she continued to suck my cock.  There were
groans of pleasure everywhere.  The unmistakable smell of sex filled the
room, and the bed bounced constantly, restlessly.  My triathlete lifted her
head and I took my opportunity.  I sat up, kissed her on the lips, and said
"Thank you".

   Mary was sitting alone and her eyes had been on me for some time.  I
smiled, and she held her arms open.  "Make me come, Neil."

   I moved her gently onto her hands and knees, then had her collapse her
elbows so her tits were on the mattress.  I parted her knees, and her ass
and pussy were beautifully exposed.  I kneeled behind her and she crooned
as I entered her slowly.  After a bit of experimenting, and listening to
Mary's reactions, I settled into a medium-paced rhythm, concentrating on
putting downward pressure on each stroke to ensure that my shaft was
rubbing Mary's G-spot.

   I heard a familiar sounding "MMMmmmMMMmmmMMM" behind me, Debbie was
pumping the cock in her mouth.  The guy grimaced, and tensed up, and Deb's
cheeks swelled.  Cum dribbled from her mouth, down between her tits and
onto her belly.  I noticed that Greg was no longer pumping her from
beneath, saw the thick stream of his cum running from my wife's pussy lips,
down his cock, and onto the sheets below.  My sweet bride had someone's cum
in her mouth, someone else's cum in her pussy, and I was fucking an
elegant, petite older woman.

   This was exactly what I'd hoped for when I asked Debbie to join the
club, and I was loving it.

   Mary was now groaning with each thrust, and I continued my rhythmic
pressure on the anterior wall of her pussy.  I felt her loose vagina
tightening up and knew she was getting close.  I reached over for the lube
on the shelf behind me and coated my finger with unscented Albolene, then
thrust my middle finger deep into Mary's ass.

   I don't think she expected that, and her reaction was immediate.  "Oh
JEEEZUZ, Neil!" Her pussy tightened like a clenched fist and her hips
thrust back toward me spasmodically as she orgasmed.  "Oh fuuuuck!"

   I felt the familiar pressure at the base of my cock.  "I'm coming,
Mary," I warned her.

   "In me.  Cone in me," she panted.  "And keep your finger in there!" She
groaned as I moved my middle finger around in her ass.

   It took maybe fifteen more seconds for me to build up and empty my load
inside her pretty, aging body.  My tool slipped from her as she collapsed
forward on the bed, and my creampie leaked from her pussy lips.

   I looked around.  Deb had freed herself from her entanglements.  I
beckoned her over and we sat leaning against the wall side by side, for a
while, arms around each other, watching the spectacle.

   Then I heard Debbie saying, in a loud voice "Okay.  This sex swing is
exactly what I need.  Who wants to play?" But Deb was sitting beside me. 
Confused, I whipped my head around.  Of course, it was her identical twin,
Maureen.  I looked at Deb.  She shrugged.  Neither of us expected Dave and
Maureen to be at the club tonight, and they hadn't seen us.

   Deb and I watched as Dave helped Maureen into the sex swing, then
stepped between her wide-spread legs and entered her easily.

   Deb and I no longer had any interest in the orgy that raged around us.
Our eyes were locked on Dave and Maureen.  He stroked into her slowly,
deeply.  She reached for her clit and started frigging fast and furiously.
"Come, Dave, come for me, baby!" her voice was so similar to Debbie's it
was eerie.

   His speed increased and he gripped under her butt cheeks for purchase.
The sex swing swayed with their rhythm.  Maureen's right hand flew over her
clit in a blur, and her left hand went from one nipple to the other.  She
threw her head back and jerked her body up and down and yelped as her
climax overtook her.

   Debbie squeezed my hand.

   Dave emitted a feral grunt and leaned forward, sweat dripping onto her
from his forehead, then he withdrew and squeezed the base of his short fat
cock and sprayed his wife liberally.

   I squeezed Debbie's hand.

   The cum flew over her abdomen and hit her breasts and pooled on her
sternum.  "Oh Jesus, Davey, that's awesome!" He slipped from her and handed
her tissues from the shelf behind the swing, and she wiped herself.  Must
be a family thing, I mused.  After a good ejaculation from me, Debbie's
first action is usually to clean up.

   Three guys had gathered around them, and Debbie's hairless friend Greg
approached Maureen, cock in hand.  "Okay if I also play?" he asked.

   Dave was about to object, but Maureen said "Yes!  Come on stud, let's
play." I was surprised Greg had anything left after Deb had drained him a
few minutes ago, but he sported a solid erection, and rubbed it along
Maureen's opening.  "Do it.  DO IT!," she instructed.

   With a single thrust, Greg was balls-deep inside Maureen.  She yelped,
and reached down to feel his shaft with her finger tips as it he extracted
it slowly and sensuously, then shoved it in again, hard and deep, so the
sex swing swayed back.  Slowly out again until we could see the glistening
pussy juice on his knob, then in again, with a force and speed that
bordered on violent.

   "Yes, dammit, YES!" Maureen encouraged him.  "Give it to me, just like
that.  Hard.  HARDER!"

   Dave stood near his wife's shoulder.  His penis was flaccid and his
expression was neutral.  It was as if he didn't know what to do, where to
stand.

   Greg withdrew after a few minutes.  He was probably not going to manage
another ejaculation so soon after coming into my wife.  He walked past Dave
and offered a high-five.  Dave just looked at him.  Greg shrugged and
walked off, and another guy took his place servicing Maureen.

   "Jesus, yes, yes!  Give it to me.  Are you watching, Dave?  Is this
sexy, or what?  Don't you love this?  You horny again, babe?  I love to
make you horny!"

   Maureen's new lover was a short, stocky, young guy with a five-inch
prick.  His erection was small but his youthful energy kept Maureen
panting, and the sex swing strained on its mounts.  He didn't last long,
and soon pulled out and dribbled a fat glob of cum on her mons.

   There was a line of four guys now.  Bees to a honey pot.  Stuart, our
host, the co-owner of the club along with Mary, approached Maureen.  I'd
always seen him around the club, taking care of events, re-stocking the
bar, and so on.  This was the first time I'd seen him in action.

   "Oooh, Stuart!  Come to me, you hunk!" Stuart flashed her a charismatic
smile.  His thick silver hair was complemented by his six foot four-or-so
frame and a long, thick cock that he held at the ready.  The man was in his
sixties but he was in great physical shape and had a commanding presence.
She looked back at her husband.  "This is for you, Davey.  I know what a
turn on it is to watch people fuck your wife.  I love you, babe."

   Dave didn't seem to know what to do with himself.  He stood an arm's
length from Maureen, still unconsciously stroking himself.  His expression
was dark and intense.

   I looked at Deb.  "Whatever Maureen thinks, Dave is not enjoying this. I
feel we should stop this, but it's not our place to get involved..."

   Maureen's pussy parted the moment Stuart placed his knob against her. 
He entered her with a single thrust, then hammered into her again and again
with the power and speed of a man half his age.

   "I love my sister to death, but goddammit she can be stupid sometimes!
Does she really think this will help their marriage?"

   Maureen grunted and there was the muted thud of flesh hitting flesh
every time Stuart slammed into her.  She reached for her clit, and Stuart's
aggressive thump-thump rhythm had her tits swaying, and the sex swing
straining at its mounts.

   "Christ, The guys are practically queueing up.  It's like she's hosting
a gangbang," I said to Debbie.  "Let's see what Dave does next." We spoke
quietly.  Dave and Maureen still hadn't seen us, and there was still plenty
of activity on the three king-sized beds.  Deb and I were leaning against
the wall furthest from the sex swing.  A couple was making out immediately
in front of us.

   "Oh Christ, Mau, don't do this," Deb appealed quietly to herself.

   Maureen started babbling "Oh my God, Oh god, omigod omiGODDD!" She
bucked in the swing as her orgasm overtook her.  Stuart continued pumping.

   Stuart yelled "Oh yeah.  I'm going to-"

   "Inside me.  Come inside me," Maureen said breathlessly.

   Dave stepped forward, showing authority for the first time, and pointed
at his wife's belly.  Stuart nodded.

   "GAAAHH"!  He pulled his cock out at the last minute.  He didn't shoot
far, but a huge glob of his ejaculate landed on her lower belly.

   "Thank you, Maureen." Stuart was ever the gentleman.  "And thank you,
David." Dave just nodded.

   A young stud stepped up to take Stuart's place.  Dave stepped in front
of him and said firmly "we're done." He reached for his wife's hand and the
three or four hopefuls dispersed as he helped her out of the sex swing. 
Wordlessly he helped her wipe down with tissues.  He took her hand and led
her out of the room, but stopped at the door and looked me square in the
eye.  A brief nod, and they were gone.

   He'd known that Debbie and I were there all along.

   We left the club soon afterward.  At home, we went to sleep in silence
with Debbie's head on my chest, and her tears running freely.

   ELEVEN

   On Sunday I logged in to my company's network and scheduled two
appointments.

   Monday.  Navigating through the usual DC / northern Virginia traffic
pattern, reportedly the second worst in the nation, which resembles a
resembles a parking lot more than a road system.  The same-old parking
spot. The same old office.  The same old glum Monday morning faces.

   The contrast between this dreary same-old-same-old normality, and what
Deb and I had been doing and witnessing less than two days ago, was
astounding.

   The first appointment I'd scheduled yesterday was with Angela, at
10:00am.  I glanced into Dave's office as I went by.  He wasn't at his
desk, and I made sure he wasn't around to see me enter his boss's office.
He called her 'Angry Angie', but he was wrong.

   For the second appointment, I drove to a small Indian restaurant just
north of Route-7.  Indian restaurants are always quiet and usually empty.
Dave and I needed to talk, and I hoped he would show up.

   Predictably, he was twenty minutes late.  We did the buffet which is
always quicker and invites fewer waiter interruptions.

   "So I think my marriage is toast."

   "Hell of a way to start a conversation, Dave."

   "Seriously.  I don't know what the fuck is with that woman, but I can't
take this shit any more.  She said she wanted to go back to the club to
help the marriage.  Bullshit.  She just wants the studs with big dicks."

   "Listen, buddy, that woman worships the ground you walk on-"

   "She has a fuckin' strange way of showing it.

   "Dave, you and Maureen need to take some time off.  When did you last go
on a vacation together?"

   "What's a vacation?  I read about it in the corporate policy, but I'm
gonna have to Google it-"

   "It's a serious question."

   "Dunno - maybe four, five years ago." He clenched his teeth.  "Listen
Neil, a vacation ain't going to help shit.  Okay?  Maureen has gone fuckin'
batshit crazy.  Maybe I could fix things, but I'm always at work.  My
fuckin' work is hurting my marriage, my nutso wife is hurting my marriage,
that fucked-up club has probably killed my marriage.  You hear what I'm
saying?"

   "Dave, I need you to listen to me carefully.  One.  Your wife may be a
bit ...  let's say unconventional.  But she'd take a goddam bullet for you.
She just doesn't know how to get that message through your thick skull. 
Two.  The club didn't do anything to your marriage.  Sorry, buddy, but you
and Maureen both decided to go to the club.  Did the two of you discuss it
before you went there?  And did the two of you talk about anything
yesterday?"

   "No, Doctor Phil," he said with exaggerated sarcasm.  "We didn't discuss
shit.  And I was at fuckin' work all day yesterday.  When do I get to
discuss any goddam thing when I have this kind of work pressure?"

   "And speaking of that...Three.  Your work is not killing your marriage.
You and I both know that you've built a strong team, and you have managers
under you who could easily handle the bulk of the work."

   "Ya think?  You don't know them-"

   "And that you refuse to delegate.  You keep thinking you'll be fired if
you don't carry three times the load that's expected of you.  But that's
crap."

   "Yeah?  Really?  That dyke I report to is just looking for a way to move
me aside.  I'd probably lose my job if I put in for leave, so how does a
vacation play into that inconvenient little scenario?"

   "Oh come on, that's nonsense.  Management knows what an asset you are
and I bet you got a glowing performance review.  No one's going to fire
you."

   I paused, then dived in.  "Dave, You can't blame everything and everyone
else.  My friend, you are using Maureen's behavior and the club and your
exaggerated work pressures as an excuse to get away from home." I'd said
it, though I'm sure Doctor Phil, or anyone else with an ounce of training
in interpersonal relationships, would have a more elegant way of
confronting Dave with the hard truths.

   Dave just looked at me.

   "You know that Deb and I love you guys.  It kills us to see how you're
using these outside problems as an excuse to avoid fixing things at home.
Please, Dave, think about it.  You and Maureen need to take a vacation. 
Treat it as a second honeymoon.  Spend time together away from any outside
influences.  And most important, do not take your work phone or your laptop
with you."

   "You think that will help anything?

   "Yes, I do.  Take the time.  Spend a full week with your wife.  Remember
why you two fell for each other in the first place.  Here." I put a small
sachet of little blue pills on the table.  "Stuart gives these out for
free. Use them."

   "Is that what I think it is?"

   "The little blue pill.  Yes.  And no, I'm not a doctor, so I don't
recommend taking them-" He glanced around the restaurant, then snatched the
bag and stuffed it in his pocket.

   "Dave, Deb and Maureen have been keeping a very dark secret from both of
us for a long time.  They agreed that neither of us was ever to know about
some pretty serious stuff that happened when they were kids.  Deb broke
that promise a while ago and told me.  You need to get Maureen to open up
to you and let you into their secret.  I think it will help you understand
a lot about her.  Believe me, this is important."

   "I don't get it.  What kind of stuff are we talking about here?"

   "She needs to tell you, not me.  Just get her talking."

   "So she tells me some secret, and I understand.  But does that stop her
from being a weirdo?"

   "It just might.  Listen, dammit.  Take your wife on a vacation.  Go and
hold hands on a beach.  Make love under the stars.  Get drunk together. 
Sleep late.  No work.  And talk.  For God's sake, talk to her!  Talk every
goddam day.  Get to know the woman!  She's changed in the last twenty-some
years, and so have you.  You need to get to know each other again."

   He looked at me with a blank expression, then said "Jesus, you suck at
this Doctor Phil stuff."

   I burst out laughing, and thankfully, Dave joined my laughter.  I waved
the waiter over and ordered two Kingfishers.  Drinking during work hours
was strictly against corporate policy, but screw it, we were responsible
executives and one damned beer wasn't going to hurt anyone.

   * * * * *

   Dave's office is just one down from mine, on the opposite side of the
hall.  I could usually hear his telephone conversations.  Late that Monday
afternoon, Dave's boss Angela stepped into his office.  She left his door
open and I could hear them clearly.

   "Dave, I know we're already quite far down the road on the financial
system conversion project, but there's a small company in North Miami that
has a solution that looks promising."

   "Yep, we looked at them when we did the vendor evaluations.  Small shop,
also has a consulting arm.  We liked them but weren't sure they'd be big
enough to guarantee long-term support."

   "That's the one.  They've added a few new modules to their application,
and I'd like you to review it for us."

   "You're serious?  We're already more than twenty percent of the way into
the conversion!"

   "Dave, listen to me." Angela's quiet, firm tone invited no
interruptions. "I've made an appointment for you to review their system at
noon on Friday.  They can only spare you an hour.  I also want you to meet
with their consulting leads, two Mondays later."

   "Huh?"

   "It makes no sense for you to fly back for the week between those
appointments, so I've booked you into a luxury suite overlooking the beach
for eleven days.  I know you're married and I don't expect you to be away
from home all that time, so I've booked two airline tickets.

   "This is a legitimate business trip, and I will approve any expenses
personally.  I expect you to fly down there early Friday and meet with this
vendor.  Then you take your wife to the beach for a week, you meet the
vendor again the following Monday, and you get back to work the next
Tuesday or Wednesday.  And because it's a business trip, it will not come
off your PTO."

   "Well I guess I can work from the hotel-"

   "No, you can't.  Your work phone and your laptop stay here."

   "I don't understand.  Are you trying to get me away for some reason?"

   "No, you big dummy, I'm trying to keep you here!  Christ, men can be
dense sometimes!" This was probably the first time Dave really saw Angela's
true colors, the mamma-bear I'd tried to describe to him.  "I want you to
unwind.  Deflate.  Come off the ledge.  Whatever pop-psychology term you
prefer.  Just relax for a while and come back all refreshed, your normal
sparkly, enthusiastic self.  Think of it as an incentive, or a reward."

   Dave was silent.  I wish I could see his expression.

   "So you're on-board with this?" Angie asked.  I'll email the details to
you."

   Dave came into my office on Tuesday morning, closed the door, and
slumped into one of the visitors chairs.  "So it seems I'm going on a
so-called business trip."

   "Oh?" I'm good at playing dumb.

   "You arranged this, didn't you."

   "Arranged what?"

   "Don't bullshit me.  At lunch you're telling me to take Maureen on a
vacation, and two hours later your buddy is sending me on a vacation."

   "Why would I know anything-"

   "'Cuz I just saw her schedule.  You were in her office for an hour
before we went to lunch." Oops, I thought.  Perhaps I'm not so good at
playing dumb.

   Dave shook his head.  "What the fuck have I got to lose?" He got up to
go.

   "You know, North Miami is one of Deb's and my all-time favorite places?"

   "Yeah?  Why?"

   "It has the best beach in the entire country.  Haulover beach.  Google
it.  Debbie and I go there whenever we can."

   His face darkened.  "Isn't that a nude beach?  You trying to get me back
into that fuckin' swinger shit again?"

   "It's nothing like that, I promise.  You know what a regular beach is
like...you set up a chair and an umbrella and although there are people
around, you still kinda stick to yourselves, right?  Well Haulover is just
like that, but with no Speedos.  You'll be about ten years younger than the
average age.  It isn't a place for swingers or for young bunnies with hot
bodies.  It's the most natural, enjoyable thing you'll ever do.  Just take
lots of sunblock"

   "Weird," he mumbled, and turned to go.

   TWELVE

   The following week was ridiculously busy for me, and I began to wonder
if Dave had a point about business pressures hurting his marriage.  I got
home very late four of the five nights that week, and Debbie and I barely
had time to talk.

   In contrast, I received text messages from Dave's private cell phone
almost daily.

   "GOING WELL, TALKING ALOT, DOING WHAT U SAID UNDER THE STARS.  BLUE
PILLS WORK LOLOL"

   "JEZUZ H CHRIST MAU JUST TOLD ME THE DARK SECRETS U TALKED ABOUT.  HEAVY
SHIT, MAN!!"

   "I LIKE UR BEACH.  FANTASTIK.  MY NEW HAPPY PLACE" Dave was never one
for the finer points of language.

   "WE TALKING AND TALKING, DOCTOR PHIL.  U HAPPY NOW?"

   "U SHOULD BE MARRIAGE THERAPIST.  AWESOME VACN.  GOOD CALL, DUDE."

   That Saturday we had agreed to join friends at a local tennis club. 
Like racquetball, my tennis is average at best.  I'm usually far more
athletic than my opponents and I have the endurance to keep going long
after they're worn out, but my so-so eye-hand coordination had me thinking
there was a hole in my racket.  I'd swish at balls that went sailing past
me, and I'd serve bombs right into the net or way past the base line.

   I played a few singles games, then Deb and I lost a doubles match two
sets to one.

   Back in the club house we were sharing drinks and small talk with three
other couples, and one of the ladies pointed out the new tennis coach.  He
was a young thirty-something named Todd who was a Bjorn Borg lookalike with
long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

   "Oh dammit, he could coach me any time he likes, day or night!" joked
one of them.

   "I bet he could, er, COACH you all night long!" said another.

   "Did you say couch, or coach?"

   "How do you SCORE with a guy like that?" asked Deb.  "One love, two
love, three-" Howls of laughter.  I didn't see the humor.  Perhaps the
ladies' daiquiris were adding humor to their quips.

   "Perhaps he could teach us a new backhand stroke."

   "I hope he lets me play with his new balls." The less funny the jokes
were, the more the ladies laughed.

   I just sipped my beer.

   Deb stood, and disappeared around the corner, and after a few minutes I
saw the object of their fascination taking to the practice court with a new
student.  The wind caught his long hair and he looked like a model for
sports apparel.  Debbie waved at us playfully, and the banter among the
ladies stopped.

   It was like watching a B-movie in which the sexy tennis coach seduces
the willing damsel, except the damsel was my wife.  He coached her forehand
from behind, putting his left arm around her waist and his left hand on her
belly and his right hand around hers as he mimicked the low cut, the high
volley, and a top spin.  After a few minutes of perfecting the stroke he
tossed balls to her and she attempted to return in slow motion, using a
perfect stroke.  When he talked to her it was at close quarters, and she
brushed his arm to say thanks before he stepped back and they continued.

   What the hell was happening?

   My phone beeped with another text from Dave.  "FLYING HOME MONDAY.  VACN
TOO SHORT.  WE R LIKE HIGH SCHOOL LOVERS AGAIN LOLOL.  MAU SAYS WE NOW LIKE
U AND DEB."

   After thirty minutes the lesson was apparently over.  She brought Todd
over to the group, and clutched his arm as she introduced everyone.  I was
just introduced as 'Neil'.

   We drove home in silence.

   I poured us a cabernet and a white zinfandel, and asked quietly "What
the hell got into you today?"

   "I'm confused.  I thought-"

   "You're confused?  My wife is flirting with a very receptive young stud
with a tent in his pants.  What the hell is confusing about that!"

   "Exactly two weeks ago some muscular chick gave you a blow job and you
fucked old Mary to within an inch of her life, and you're upset that I'm
flirting harmlessly?"

   She had a point.

   "Yes, dammit Neil, I'm confused.  How the hell is it okay to have sex
with anyone we fancy, and then suddenly we're all monogamous again?  I
think we have some figuring out to do!"

   I'd been seething with a quiet anger for two hours, but she had me
there. I took a long sip of wine.  "You're right." My voice was calm.  "And
I think I know where we go from here."

   There were tears in her eyes.  She reached across the table and took my
hand.  "I love you, Neil.  If we have to stop going to the club, we'll
stop. It's fun, but I'm not going to let it come between us.  Remember,
honey, I will always be the wife you want me to be."

   "I don't want you to be anything.  I just want you to be you."

   "Do you want to stop going to the club?"

   "No, I think it's pretty simple," I said.  "Tell me if you think this
will work.  At the club, we're free to do whatever we like, with whoever we
like.  No boundaries.  I only ask that we're always together when we're
doing...whatever.  Or whoever." I smiled.

   "Of course."

   "But away from the club, back in the real world, we're a hundred percent
normal.  I'm a one woman man, you're a one man woman.  Monogamous.  No
flirting or screwing around or anything out of the ordinary.  Just the way
we always were."

   "Works for me."

   "And no tennis coaches."

   She laughed.  "Unless he pitches up at the club!"

   "Then he'd better have a hot wife!" I smiled.

   She squeezed my hand.  "There's something I need from you.  Take me
upstairs." I smiled again.

   As we went up, my phone beeped with another text from Dave.  "THAT BEACH
IS THE BEST BUT BRING ALOT OF SUNBLOCK.  U CANT DO U KNOW WHAT WITH A
SUNBURNED U KNOW WHAT.  OUCH.  LOLOL.  MAU SENDS LUV."

   I showed the message to Deb.  "Thank God they're back together again,"
she said.  "What incredible luck that the company sent them away at just
the right time." I said nothing.

   We threw the comforter on the floor and turned the lights out, and made
slow languid love in the missionary position whispering soft words of
affection to each other.  Debbie was wetter than ever, probably thanks to
her earlier exploits with Todd.  I was harder than ever, probably thanks to
having been celibate for the whole week.

   When I finally came it was long and deep.  I kept thrusting, and
amazingly I didn't go completely soft.  My erection returned after a few
minutes of continued stroking and I knew I'd be good for the rest of the
night.  I wouldn't come again but if I could maintain my hard-on, this
would be a good session.

   Deb slipped her hand between us and rubbed slow circles over her clit
while I tried to avoid bumping her.  She came in minutes, then slipped her
hand down so she could squeeze my cock as it slid between her fingers.

   I was in a rhythm now, and we went at it, slowly, lovingly, for at least
another half hour.

   Then in the silent communication that can only occur between long-time
lovers I pulled out, she turned her back to me, and I slid in again,
spooning her from behind.  Once again we went to sleep with me still inside
her.

   The cum leaked onto the mattress between us.

   THIRTEEN

   As instructed by his boss Angela, Dave came back to work "all refreshed,
and his normal sparkly, enthusiastic self."

   It was a joy to see him looking so happy.

   It was a pain in the ass to hear his happy, booming voice all over the
office.

   Late that night Deb came home from another book club meeting.  I was
going to have to get her to Uber home from those events, or fetch her
myself.  She swore that they had a two-glass limit.  Was that two wine
glasses, or did they use beer steins?

   "Maureen and Dave are okay again!" she exclaimed.  "Oh, thank God! 
Instead of just ruining their marriage, something good came out of his work
at last."

   "How did she like Haulover Beach?"

   "They loved it.  He didn't want to go at first, but toward the end he
was practically dragging her there," she laughed.  "I haven't seen Maureen
this happy for years.

   I smiled.  Sometimes you get lucky and your plans actually work out.

   "I still don't understand why Dave was calling you Doctor Phil?"

   "Just a conversation we had.  I was talking about open communication and
so on."

   "Well, whatever caused it, I'm so pleased!  Mau deserves to be happy."

   * * * * *

   By now, my little beemer could probably navigate to suburban Maryland on
autopilot.  It was the club's annual "Autumn Party", one of two they held
outdoors every year.

   Mary beamed when she welcomed us at the front door, and led us through
the huge house, to the substantial entertainment area outside.  The weather
couldn't have been better.  It was a windless seventy six degrees with
cloudless deep blue skies and the hint of colors changing in the huge trees
that hid Stuart and Mary's estate from the golf course.  A bar had been set
up next to the pool pavilion, and loungers and poolside beds were spread
around the pool deck.  No neighbors' houses were visible.  This place was
very private.

   Guests milled around in various states of undress, and on the far side
of the pool one lucky guy was already getting a blow job.

   Eight or nine cabanas lined the near side.  They were tent-like affairs
with curtains, and each was furnished with two chairs, a drinks table, an
outdoor bed, and a second table with lube and a stack of towels.

   "The cabanas are like the party rooms downstairs," Mary explained.  "If
the curtains are drawn, that means people want privacy.  If they're open
it's like the green lights and it means you can watch, or maybe join the
fun."

   Debbie went to the last cabana in the line and staked her claim by
undressing and laying her clothes across one of the chairs.  The more often
we came to the club, the more impressed I was by her enthusiastic
participation.  I also stripped off, draped my clothes across the other
chair, and put my car keys and Debbie's purse on the small table.

   This cabana was occupied.

   I took a pair of towels and we wandered over to the bar, smiling and
nodding to the growing number of guests as we went.  Almost everyone was
naked now.  Mingling with them at the pool side and at the bar, nude in the
warm autumn sun that was mottled by the surrounding trees, gave me a
euphoric feeling of freedom.  People asked Deb how her sister was.  Small
talk, mostly, but it seemed my wife had gained a small fan base after her
and Maureen's girl-on-girl performance two months ago.

   Walking back from the bar I noticed a woman lying back on a lounger,
apparently alone, naked and slowly stroking her clit.  She was a striking
redhead, probably barely out of her twenties, and had a voluptuous body
with natural melon sized tits.  The club usually drew an older crowd, so
her youthful good looks were a pleasant rarity.  Deb and I paused and
watched for a moment.  The redhead opened her eyes and smiled.

   "Need any help?"

   "Yes, please." I'd been joking, but the redhead was serious.

   "You coming?" I asked Deb.

   "Should be fun," she smiled.  "I want to see this".

   I folded my towel and placed it at the end of the lounger, then kneeled
on it.  I spread her knees.  She smiled at me, then pulled her labia apart.
I rubbed my fingertips over the backs of her hands then felt her delicate
folds.  She may have been diddling for a while and was obviously turned on.
Her juices were flowing and the odor was tantalizing.

   Deb kneeled beside me and watched, from close quarters.

   I licked between the redhead's lips and dipped my tongue deep into her
pussy, then slowly drew the rough surface of my tongue upward and over her
clit.  She gasped and arched her back.  She was still holding herself open.
I sucked deeply on her labia, first one side then the other, and then
repeated the tongue insertion.  She moaned softly and placed her fingers
gently on either side of my head.

   Licking a stranger's pussy and tonguing her clit while my wife observed
every movement from less than two feet away was the weirdest feeling.  Deb
was silent but attentive.  It was like she was taking lessons, or perhaps
taking notes for a critique that would follow.

   It didn't last long.  There was an "Oh, oh OH!" There was a gasp, then a
long slow moan, and then she was silent and she bucked her hips as the
climax overtook her.  The orgasm was long and intense.  I licked her gently
until the movements subsided, and when I finally looked up Debbie's fingers
were massaging the redhead's right nipple.

   I stood, and my erection stood proud before me.  Deb thanked the
redhead, leaned over and kissed her briefly on the lips, then stood and we
embraced in a long, deep kiss.  "That was fun to watch," she purred,
talking through the kiss.  "Mmmm, and she tastes good!"

   I laughed.

   Back at our cabana, drinks in hand, we hadn't sat down yet when the
athletic fifty-something who'd given me a blow job a month ago stepped in
behind us.  My triathlete friend.

   "Hi, mind if I join you?" She asked.

   "Sure, come on in," invited Deb.

   "I think we have some unfinished business," she smiled.  "Do you mind if
he and I finish what we started last month?" She asked Deb.

   "Do you mind if I watch?" countered my wife.

   I joked "Hey, do I get a say in this?"

   "No!" Their reply was chorused, and they giggled.

   I lay back on the outdoor bed and held my hands out.  She took them and
I guided her to sit astride me.  Debbie put her drink down and kneeled
beside the bed, once again getting a close-up view.  Who knew that my wife
liked to watch?

   The triathlete placed her feet on either side of my pelvis and squatted,
slowly lowering herself to just the right seven inches above me.  Holding
my erection, I rubbed the glans along her slit.  She was soaked, and her
pussy juices mingled with my pre-cum to form a perfect slick lubrication.
She slowly lowered herself on me, down, down, until her butt was firmly
against my thighs, then she lifted herself until the tip of my cock was
barely touching her, then down again.

   "God, that's hot," exclaimed Debbie.  She was so close to the action
that I could feel her breath on my wet shaft.

   The mattress was comfortable but thin, and I wasn't able to contribute
much movement.  The triathlete was flexible and in excellent shape and she
controlled the pace.

   Debbie scooted down and, still kneeling, watched from the foot of the
bed.

   The pace of the long movements gradually increased and I knew I wouldn't
be able to last long.  I reached up for her small firm breasts and rolled
her hard nipples between my fingers.  They were long and narrow and a pale
shade of fleshy pink.

   I glanced outside.  A small group of club members was watching us and
chatting idly.

   The triathlete squeaked.

   She fucked me with movements that were speeding up.  Debbie grabbed my
balls.

   I gasped.

   Deb felt them gently with one hand, and pressed hard on my perineum with
the other.  That delicate strip between balls and ass has always been one
of my most erogenous zones.

   I grunted.

   Our simultaneous orgasm was explosive.  I had never been with a
squirter. The triathlete's warm ejaculate flowed down my cock and soaked my
trimmed pubic hairs.  At the same time I pumped into her aggressively and
lined her insides with hot thick semen which soon ran downward, and mingled
with her juices.

   She lifted herself off me slowly and leaned in for a quick kiss.  As she
did so, Debbie used two hands to scoop the body fluids from her, and to
scrape them off my cock.  The triathlete said "Thanks" to Deb, not to me,
and left without another word.

   Deb and I stood again, embraced and kissed again.  "Here," she said, and
put her fingers in my mouth.  I tasted a cocktail of smooth pussy juice and
my own thick creamy cum.  "You like it?" she asked.  I wasn't sure how to
answer.

   Deb and I finished our drinks and went back to the bar for a refill.  On
the way back, at the second to last cabana which was alongside ours, I
stopped in my tracks.  Dave stood there, nude, and was pulling the curtains
closed.  Behind him I saw Maureen lying naked on the bed, waiting.

   "Have fun, dude," he said with a wink, and closed the cabana off.  Deb
and I looked at each other.  I shrugged, and led her back to our cabana. 
Debbie propped up the cushions and lay back on the bed and I sat in the
chair beside her.  We sipped our drinks, silent in our thoughts.  What was
the significance of Dave and Maureen being here?

   "Deborah!" Our meditation was cut off by Stuart's big voice.

   "Hey, Stu!"

   "Are you having fun?"

   "Having a blast, thanks, Stu!"

   "Would you mind if I join you?"

   "I'd love it!" She exclaimed.

   "Neil, would you be comfortable if I play with your sweet wife for a
while?" Ever the gentleman.

   "Of course," I replied.

   "I take it you'll be here, with her?"

   "We always play together," I replied in a tone that invited no further
discussion.

   "Very wise."

   Stuart kneeled on the end of the bed.  Deb's knees parted, exposing
herself, inviting him in.  I could see her inner labia peeking through,
glistening with her juices.  I had taken one of Stuart's little blue pills
when I arrived, and my erection was already returning.

   I remembered the way Stuart had fucked Maureen a few weeks ago.  Deb was
in for a rough ride.  He wasted no time and pushed his member gently until
her lips parted, then he moved in on her slowly, deliberately, all the way
until his thick tool was completely buried in my wife.

   "Oh God, that's good, Stuart!"

   Using the towel for padding, I kneeled next to Deb and fondled her
nipple.

   Stuart withdrew almost all the way, then slammed violently back into
Deb. She yelped.

   "You okay, babe?"

   She nodded.

   Stuart withdrew slowly again, then thrust himself back into my wife's
pussy, so hard and so deep that the bed creaked dangerously, and Deb yelped
again.

   I reached for Deb's hand.  "No," she stopped me.  "Feel my tits, honey."
Bang, Stuart pumped in again.  Every time he withdrew it was slow and
sensuous.  Every time he pumped down into her, it was with a force that
rocked the bed.

   She looked at me.  "God, babe, this feels so good!" I smiled at her and
continued stroking her nipple.

   "Hey Stuart!" Maureen's voice came through the soft sides of the tent.
"Be gentle with my sister, okay?  Don't break her!" I could hear her and
Dave giggling.  Stuart paid no attention and continued mashing his thick
cock balls-deep into Debbie, ramming his pubic bone against her mons and
squeezing her clit with every stroke.

   We'd drawn a group of spectators again.  One of the men stepped into the
tent.  Hard-on in his hand, and approached Deb from the opposite side of
the bed.  "May I?" He asked me.  I nodded.  He offered his cock to Deb.

   "Yeah, gimme that thing," she panted.  Stuart's rhythm continued
uninterrupted.

   The guy rested a knee on the bed beside Deb's ear.  She reached for his
cock, swallowed the head and stroked his shaft.  I could see the movement
in her cheeks.  She was swirling her tongue around the mushroom head, then
licking the sensitive tip.  The guy's eyes rolled with pleasure.

   Stuart was tireless with his continued hard lunges and slow withdrawals.

   Debbie sucked hard on the guy's cock, and I could see the head pushing
against her hollowed cheeks as she pumped him.

   "I can't hold it any more!"

   Debbie pulled his knob out of her mouth and pumped him as hard as she
could.  The guy wrapped his hand over hers and increased the intensity,
alternatively squeezing and releasing.  It took less than a minute.  I'd
never watched another man's ejaculation from close up.  His shaft swelled,
his balls contracted, and I could see the thick ejaculate streaming through
the base of his cock in the instant before it sprayed her tits.

   I had to withdraw my hand as two ropes of cum went across her right
breast.  A third gush hit her left nipple, and another spurt landed on her
upper chest and ran down both sides of her throat looking like a pearl
necklace.

   Deb wiped the cum across her breasts, rubbing it all over herself as if
she was applying body lotion.  Another surprise.  She usually reaches for
the tissues and wipes herself clean.

   Stuart's movements seemed to slow down a bit, and his voice was calm
despite his energetic thrusting.  "I'm close.  Where do you want it?"

   "Come into me, Stuart.  I want your cum in me.  Do it!"

   Stuart looked at me.  I nodded.  Deb doesn't mind cum on her body,
though she's always considered that to be a waste.  She loves being coated
on the inside, feeling it ooze out, scooping it up and using it as lube for
masturbation, or licking it off her fingers.

   "GAAAHH"!  His roar was feral, primal, loud.  "JeeeZUZ!" The ferocity
was gone now, and he pumped slow and deep for a minute, then withdrew.  His
tool was flaccid now, and dripped with his cum and my wife's pussy juices.

   "Thank you, Debora.  Thanks, Neil."

   As he stepped away, one of the onlookers stepped forward.  "Can I play?"
he asked Deb.

   She nodded.  He stepped around the far side of the bed, presumably going
for a blow job.

   "Uh-uh," she stopped him.  "Fuck me!" She spread her knees further apart
and used some of Stuart's sticky sperm to rub her clit.

   "But-" Deb's pussy was coated white and the Stuart's semen ran thickly
from her pussy, down her ass crack.

   "Fuck me, dammit!"

   He shrugged, kneeled on the bed and leaned in.  He wasn't comfortable
about shoving his knob into another man's cum, but Deb encouraged him. 
"That's it.  Come on, fuck me.  I want you to come into me.  You want to
come in my pussy?" Debbie can be bit crude at times, but I'd never heard
dirty talk like this.

   He slipped his knob between her reddened pussy lips.  There was no
resistance as he sank deep into her, and began thrusting.  His reluctance
now forgotten, he moved rhythmically, splashing Stuart's cum every time he
went deep.  Deb continued massaging her clit, het tits squeezed upward
between her fore arms.

   It only took a few minutes before her latest lover groaned then froze,
drove deep into her, hesitated, shoved in again, spouting his seed into the
depths of my wife's body.

   When he stepped back, the cum was spread all over her upper thighs, up
onto her mons, and down her buttocks.

   "I need more," she said softly.  This was a side of my wife I'd never
seen, never dreamed existed.  I shouldn't have been surprised, though.  She
could be very graphic when we talked through our fantasies, and I knew she
had yet to tell me her deepest, nastiest daydreams.

   Debbie was apparently turning one of those fantasies into reality right
now, and I was happy to help.

   I looked at the small crowd outside our cabana.  "Anyone else want to
play?" A couple stepped forward.  "My husband has always wanted to be in a
creampie gangbang," the woman explained, then looked at him and said "This
is your chance, Chuck!  You want to do it?" Is that was this was?  A
creampie gangbang?

   "Oh hell yeah!" he exclaimed.

   Deb used both hands to spread her vagina open as Chuck climbed onto the
bed, lined himself up, and went in.  After two strokes his cock was lined
with cum and I could hear the squelching as he moved in and out.

   Chuck grunted as he fucked Deb, and his wife cooed encouraging words to
him.

   "You okay, Babe?" I asked Deb.

   She nodded "Suck my tits, Honey." I looked at her.  Deb's breasts were
coated with semen.  "Come on, Honey!"

   I wrapped her right breast on my hand, caressed it, felt the sticky
residue.

   "Jesus, Honey, how often have I swallowed your cum?"

   Chuck's wife said "funny how it's okay for the girls to taste cum, but
not for the guys."

   I moved closer and caught a smell that hinted of bleach.

   "It's okay, Neil.  Don't worry about it-"

   I took her tit in my mouth and licked it clean.  There was a taste
somewhat similar to oatmeal, and there was the saltiness of her
perspiration.

   Seeing me suck Debbie's cum coated tit set Chuck off, and for the third
time, a man sprayed his seed into the depths of my wife's pussy.  When he
pulled out of her, his wife dipped to her knees and sucked him clean.

   "I'll stop any time you want, Honey," Deb told me, as her hand went back
to her clit.

   Outside the cabana I recognized Greg, muscular but slightly paunchy, and
completely hairless.  He'd fucked her twice in the past two months and
might be up for my next challenge.  I signaled for him to come over.  "You
up for this?" I asked him.

   "Of course!"

   I had decided to extend my wife's adventure into another one of her
fantasies--one she'd told me when we were in the throes of a long night of
passion, and probably the nastiest fantasy she'd ever told me.  "Before you
do anything, she needs to be cleaned up." Greg reached for the tissue box.
"No, she wants to be licked clean."

   "Oh, God yessss!" whispered Deb.

   Greg hesitated, then dived in.  Deb craned her neck to watch.  He licked
her inner thighs, slurped up the mess, showed it to her as it ran down his
tongue, then swallowed.  She massaged her left tit.  I sucked her right
tit. "Ooooh fuck yes!" It was a whisper, but her carnal pleasure spoke
volumes.

   Greg went over her mons, lapping up the other mens' gooey residue, went
down her slit, slurping, cleaning, displaying it on his tongue, swallowing.
He pushed his tongue deep into her and swirled it, then licked up to her
clit again.

   "Stand up, Deb."

   She looked at me.  "Wha-"

   "Stand up.  Greg, lie here." Greg lay where Deb had been, his erection
pointing to the top of the cabana.

   "Ah yes," said Deb.  She placed her knees on either side of Greg, and
lowered herself slowly.  The audience outside had grown considerably, and
they were treated to Deb's cum-glazed pussy going slowly down on Greg's
thick tool, her lips swallowing it, her rosebud exposed.  Greg groaned with
pleasure as she eased herself down.  Three men had come into her, and their
jizz now flowed down his shaft.

   As she raised and lowered herself, taking Greg deeper with each stroke,
she looked at me and said "Jesus, Honey, this is gooood!" I winked in
reply.

   Elsewhere, the party was in full swing...in more ways than one.  We
still had a group of onlookers, but I could hear the guttural sounds of sex
coming from the poolside.  The redhead I'd given head earlier was giving
someone a blow job.  Two women sat side by side at the water's edge, legs
apart and dangling into the pool.  Stuart stood in the pool, and I could
see his shock of silver hair moving from the hinge of one woman's thighs to
the other.

   And I heard Dave and Maureen in the cabana next door.  They were clearly
in the throes of sex--I could hear the slap-slap as their torsos met, and
from time to time Maureen's soft yelps came through the canvas walls. 
They'd been at it for a long time, and the soft rumble of Dave's voice was
soothing and calm.

   This had been a day of firsts for Debbie and for me, and I decided to
give her another new experience.  A young man stood among the observers
outside our tent.  He was probably the youngest person I'd seen at the
club. Perhaps he was with the young redhead.  I beckoned him to come over.

   Deb had a rhythm now, and was bucking up and down on Greg, then swirling
her hips from side to side, then up and down again.  It was a motion so
familiar to me, though I'd always been attached to the penis she was
fucking.  It was a huge turn-on to observe it from this angle.

   The young guy stepped up hesitantly.  I didn't say a word, just motioned
him to come closer.  I took a handful of the lube from the side table and,
in another first for me, I touched another man's privates.  In two or three
strokes I spread the lube over his hard-on, ran the palm of my hand over
the sensitive tip, then drew him closer.  He got the picture, and lined
himself up, then pushed his knob firmly against Deb's puckered rosebud.

   Deb gasped.  "Relax, babe."

   "Jesus, Neil!"

   "Relax," I repeated.

   It took a few thrusts before Debbie was able to relax so he could pop
his mushroom head past her sphincter.

   "Oh, Christ, baby!"

   "Relax, honey.  Slow down."

   "I'm trying-"

   "Stay still, babe.  Let the guys move."

   Greg lay still now, and Deb slowed her bucking motion.  The youngster
pushed hard and slow, then pulled partway out.  I reached over and coated
his tool with more lube.  That was the second time I ever touched another
man's cock.  Deb hovered over Greg, motionless, while the youngster pushed
in again, and out, and in.  He was soon balls-deep in my wife's ass.  She
was silent, but her eyes bulged and mouth was in a wide 'O'.

   Lying on his back, on the thin mattress Greg had limited movement but he
arched his back to extract a few inches, then reared his hips to plunge in
again.  The two guys synchronized their movements, and Debbie's expression
was unreadable.  Her eyes were rolled back, her mouth hung open, and she
gasped with each thrust.

   "You still okay?"

   "I think I've died and gone to heaven." Her voice was hoarse, breathy.

   I fondled the breast that was closest to me, massaging the extended
nipple between my fingers, squeezing gently, watching my wife, the love of
my life, my bride of twenty years, being fucked by two strangers at the
same time, while a crowd of naked party-goers stood outside watching her
double penetration.

   Debbie's orgasm hit her suddenly.  She can be a screamer and she let it
go now.  Her yell was a high pitched "EEeeaahh!" that echoed off the walls
of the mansion and pierced the ears of everyone at thye party.  "Oh FUCK!"
She looked straight at me, her eyes locked on mine.  All she could say was
"Oh, baby baby baby, it's so..oh baby!"

   I smiled and blew her a kiss.

   "Jesus," she gasped.  "I feel so full.  Weird...awesome.  Jeez, I've
never felt so fucking horny." She shuddered.  "I'm still coming-"

   "I can't hold it," yelled the young guy who was plowing my wife's ass.
"Gonna come."

   "Inside," I instructed.

   "Oh fuck, she's so tight.  AAaahh!" He drove forward and held it.  I
moved around to see the contractions in his balls and the half-thrusts, as
he emptied himself into Deb's ass.  He pulled away leaving my wife's ass
wide open, exposed to the watchers outside as it slowly contracted.  A
stream of his cum ran downward toward her pussy, and mingled with the
deposits that had been left by three previous men.

   The youngster came around to the table, his limp dick flopping wetly,
and reached for the tissues.  I shook my head.  Just this once, I knew that
Debbie didn't want to be cleaned up.  She wanted to be covered in cum,
enjoy its sticky warmth all over body, feel it cool and dry up on her.

   The youngster said a quiet "Thank you", and left the cabana.  A thick
glob of his seed ran onto Greg's shaft as he and Deb settled into a faster
cadence.  It flowed thick and creamy down his Greg's shaft and slowly
coated his balls.

   I thought Greg's upward thrusts must be straining his back by now, but
he was muscular and maintained his rhythm.  Deb slammed down onto him every
time he shoved upward, and her butt cheeks slapped loudly on his thighs. 
As she lifted up I watched her inner labia extend down his cum-soaked tool,
saw them disappear on the up-strokes.

   I reached between them and found Deb's clit.  Unlike her twin sister,
Debbie's clit is tiny.  But now it was hard and engorged and it stood proud
of its hood.  Careful not to interrupt their tempo, I massaged it, tweaked
it and pinched it gently, felt Greg's hard wet cock sliding against my
fingers, felt thick sperm running into my hand.

   "Coming!" Greg announced.  Like the first time he and Deb had sex
together, Greg was silent and his face was strained.  His pace was hard now
and his upward jerks were spasmodic.  I'd lost count of how many men had
come in and on Deb today.

   Greg lay still as his erection shrank then slipped out, followed by a
gush of thick semen.  Deb moved to the side so he could get up.  He stood
and was off balance for a few seconds, then said leaned over and gave Deb a
pecking kiss on the lips, said "Thank you, guys" to both of us, and left.

   I stood, waved briefly to the viewers outside our cabana, and pulled the
curtains closed.  I joined Deb on the bed.  Cum was crusting all over her
body but we ignored it and the cold wet patches on the mattress and held
each other in a tight, silent embrace.  I kissed her deeply, and saw tears
welling in her eyes.

   "What's wrong?"

   "I just feel so--unfaithful to you.  Are we breaking our vows?  You know
I love you-"

   "Did you have fun?" I interrupted.

   "God, yes.  I'm going to be sore for a week, but that was so sexy,
so...intense."

   "Good!  That's all I care about.  I've been with you the whole time.  We
did this together.  Hell, I lined the guys up for you," I chuckled.  "How
does that make you unfaithful?"

   "So we're okay?"

   "Better than ever." I kissed her again.

   We lay on the bed, arms wrapped around each other, sticky bodies pressed
together, the strong smell of sex filling our nostrils, and listened to the
sounds outside.

   There were conversations.  There were grunts of sex given and received.
There was the occasional slap-slap of bodies coming together.  There was
laughter.  Glasses chinked, someone splashed around in the pool, and there
was the unmistakable creak of the beds in the cabanas.

   There was whispered conversation from Dave and Maureen's cabana next
door, soft and loving and private.

   There was the rustling of leaves as a passing breeze reminded us that
the autumnal equinox was behind us and winter would soon follow.

   FOURTEEN

   Dave and Maureen's cabana was still closed when we left the party.  We
were among the first to leave, but we were spent.  The light was fading and
Stuart had turned on an array of bright outdoor lights and was placing gas
heaters around the pool.

   Back home in northern Virginia we each took a long, slow shower then
padded nude, as usual, down to the kitchen where I poured wine for each of
us and we shared a light salad.

   Breaking the silence Deb said "Funny thing."

   "Mmm hmm?"

   "How many men was I with today?  And what new and really, really
intense...things did I do today?  And yet-" she paused.

   "We both had fun," I agreed.

   "Funny thing," she continued.  "For all that, I want more."

   "Jesus," I laughed.  "Only my wife could go through all that in a few
hours, yet it still wasn't enough to satisfy her.  You're insatiable!  What
the hell does it take to please you?" I teased.

   "You." She looked at me seriously.  "It takes you to please me, Neil. 
Let's go upstairs."

   My wife sometimes has the best ideas.

   I was already hard, she was already wet.  I lay on our bed and,
dispensing with foreplay.  I positioned Deb astride me.  She lowered
herself onto my cock and it slipped in easily."

   "You sore?" She shook her head.  I knew different, but we needed this.
We looked deeply into each other's eyes as our movements settled into a
slow pace.  "I love you."

   "I love-" The house phone rang.

   "Damn.  Ignore it!"

   With my cock still deep in her pussy, Deb leaned over and read the
caller ID.  "It's Dave's cell phone," she said.  And picked it up.

   I only heard one side of the conversation, and the call lasted less than
thirty seconds.  All I heard was "What?" Then "No way!" followed by "is
everyone okay?" A pause, then "WHAT!  Christ.  We'll be right there!"

   Debbie put the phone down stared at it for a few seconds, then wailed at
the top of her voice: "NOOOOOOO!"

   "Honey, what's wrong?" Her face was strained and tears flowed freely."
What happened?"

   "Oh God, please no-no-no-no.  Jesus, NOOOOOOO!"

   I rolled out from under her, kneeled beside her on the bed, and said
"What' happened, babe?"

   "They were coming home from the party.  There was a crash.  Someone ran
a light and T-boned them."

   "And?"

   She looked at me through wet eyes, and an expression that was
devastated. Then the sobs racked her and she fell into my arms.

   "Maureen is dead!"

   * * * * *

   Maureen's funeral was a tragically sad affair.  Only a few dozen people
stood at her gravesite in a wind that was cold and blustery despite the
Indian summer of last week, Their book club friends were there as well as a
few of Dave's staff members from the office, and a handful of people I
didn't recognize.

   * * * * *

   Dave had become inconsolable.  He left our company after six months and
took a position with the consulting firm he'd visited in North Miami.  As
usual with consultants, he was a very senior person who was placed at a
mid-level at his employer's clients.  That meant Dave was no longer
embroiled in business politics and could work at what was, for him, an easy
pace.

   He rented an apartment overlooking the Intracoastal Waterway, lived
alone, and never took leave.

   Over the next few years Debbie and I visited him a few times in the
summers.  He kept to himself, and conversation was difficult.  He would
work for half a day, then come back and say "Beach time." We packed a few
snacks and drinks into a cooler, took deck chairs and an umbrella, and
walked across Collins avenue to Haulover nude beach.  We stripped, and sat
in in the shade silence as Dave looked out to the sea, remembering the
idyllic week he and Maureen had spent here.

   Deb and I never went back to the "Dream Catchers Dance and Social Club",
or any other swingers club.

   THE END

   * * * * *
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