Our First Swinging, House Party Ch. 03

Continued from Chapter 2:

Even though Yvonne acted as if she was a reluctant virgin, before she had sex with me and before we had sex with others, she was no virgin. Based on the pillow talk we had about the sex she had with other men, blowing my mind with some of the sexual things she did, I knew she was a slut. Something I didn't know and something I could never be, with me only being 5'5" tall, she had a sexual attraction for taller men, men 6' and taller. Nonetheless her secret preference for taller men, forget about how much taller they were than me, I suspected she'd willingly suck and fuck any man who had an erect cock.

Obviously and forlornly, in the way that many couples grow closer together after embracing the swinging lifestyle and having sex with others, we drifted apart. As if holding up a mirror to our relationship, what worked for others showed us not what we had but what we didn't have but wanted. If it wasn't for the swinging, we may have continued our loveless marriage and empty relationship for years longer.

Alas, I didn't see my wife for who she truly was until we immersed ourselves in the swinging lifestyle. Drowning in sea of credit card debt, foolishly for me, her debt that was all in my name. How dumb I was not to see that she was using me? I didn't see the travesty of my life until she left me holding the bag with all of the unpaid bills.

In hindsight, in the way she totally enjoyed herself while having sex with other men, now I know my not so loving wife was a whore. Able to see it clearly now, she was a liar and a cheater. She deceived me. She used me. She bought shoes and clothes with my credit cards and hid her purchases and hid the bills from me.

With me burying my head in my work and working more overtime to pay for the bills she racked up, I was her unknowing accomplice and her enabler to her shopping addiction. Thinking her shopping purchases were part of our monthly household budget, I blindly gave her money to pay for the household expenses. Only, I never suspected how much of a whore my beautiful wife was until she cheated on me behind my back and left me holding the bag for another man.

The beauty about the swinging lifestyle was, with the sex out in the open, she didn't have to cheat on me. We could have had sex with anyone at any time as a couple, but I guess my wife didn't get that memo. Obviously tired of swinging with me and being with me, she wanted to go on her own.

'Bye, take your cat but leave my sweater and be careful the door doesn't hit you in the ass when I slam it shut after you leave,' I imagined saying to my loving wife.

Chapter 3:

"Everyone is a lot older than we are," whispered Yvonne.

We both glanced around the room behind us. She was right, of course. Every couple there was in their 40's and 50's. With Yvonne only 28-years-old and me 32-years-old, some of them were old enough to be our parents.

Just as it didn't sit right with her, it didn't sit right to me to only have a selection of old folks. I would have preferred seeing more couples our age, a little younger or a little older. I didn't know what I'd even talk about when having sex with them. I suppose we could talk about sex.

Even though we just got there, with no one there to interest her sexually, she looked as if she already wanted to leave. For once I agreed with her. Just as I didn't want to have sex with mature, obese women, she didn't want to have sex with a bunch of dirty, old men. Yet, being that we went through all the trouble to get dress and drive there, we needed to give the evening more of a chance.

I looked at her, smiled, and gave her a kiss. I suspect what she saw was older men who were respectably deemed as professional swingers, instead of the perversely, perverted deviates that they were. What I saw was something else entirely. I saw several attractive older women that I'd like to get to know better. Even though she was more into having swinging sex than I was, especially with men her own age, a little older, and a little younger, I wanted to give this house party more of a chance than she did.

I was turned on by the prospect of having sex with an older woman, a woman old enough to be my mother. How hot would that be to have sex with someone old enough to be my mother but without her really being my mother? I wondered if she'd be agreeable to having me call her Mommy.

'I love you, Mommy,' I thought while imagining myself saying that to some older woman who I met and had hot sex with here.

I looked at my wife who was already looking sexually frustrated and disappointed. She had a Hell of a nerve to look disappointed when she didn't want to go in the first place. Something I'd never do to her, all that she had been doing since I told her about the invitation was to stick a pin in my balloon of sexual excitement. I was curious to see what happens at a swingers' house party.

"Relax honey. No means no. You don't have to swing with anyone you're not sexually interested in and don't want. Just think of this house party as if it's a regular party like any other party but with sex. Just talk to people and enjoy their company instead of thinking about sex for now. Then, if you hit it off with someone, we can either swing together as a couple or go in a separate room."

No longer wanting to be in the same room as my wife, I'd much prefer she did her own thing while I did my own thing. She was too loudly vocal especially when cumming. She seemingly enjoyed herself a little too much for me to concentrate and focus on what I was doing. Instead of sexually exciting me that she was having a good, sexual time with another man, in the way that her having swinging sex sexually excited me in the past, now she made me possessively jealous. Now she made me wish that she was having as good of a sexual time with me than with someone else. Yet, before we could mingle and introduce ourselves to the other guests, Don approached us again.

"Would you care to join my wife and I upstairs?" He asked the question as if this was his code phrase in asking us if we wanted to have sex with them. "Minnie would like to get to know you better," he said to me instead of to the both of us.

'I bet,' I thought especially after having seen Minnie up close.

She was a short and obese woman with huge, saggy breasts. To accentuate the fact that she had huge, saggy breasts, she wasn't even wearing a bra. Her big nipples seemed to have made a permanent impression in the blouse she was wearing. Being that she was the hostess at a swingers' house party, I seriously doubted she was even wearing panties. She made me feel as I'd be having sex with an old Hippie, ala Kathy Bates playing a swinger.

A big deal for me, I like women wearing bras and panties so that I may slowly undress them. There's just something about feeling a woman through her bra and panties while kissing her. Not a pretty sight but a scary one, Minnie reminded me of Danny DeVito when he played the Penguin in Batman. She made my skin crawl and her husband, Don, who looked as if he was on the sex registry list or should be on the sex registry list, gave me the creeps. Just as I couldn't imagine Yvonne wanting to have sex with him, I couldn't imagine myself having sex with his wife. I didn't blame Yvonne for wanting to leave. With this our first swinging, house party, this may be our last swinging, house party.

Minnie would look somewhat more attractive if she lost a few pounds, wore a bra, brushed her hair, and wore a bit of makeup. In the way she looked now, she looked depressed. She looked tired. Seemingly too busy arranging house parties, she didn't even take the time to take care of herself. With her hair looking like it needed to be washed, I couldn't help but wonder if she even showered. A couple of the other women took her aside and took her in her bedroom. When she emerged, her hair was brushed, she was wearing makeup, a nice dress, and even a bra. Now, if she was the last woman there and if I had a few drinks and was horny, I'd do her.

With Minnie old enough to be my mother, after seeing her in her matronly state, I wasn't interested in getting to know Minnie any better than her being the hostess of this house party. Besides, with us having just gotten there, feeling a bit like fresh meat, we already felt pressured to have sex with the host and hostess. We weren't ready to jump in bed with someone just yet, especially a couple who were much older than we were and who weren't as hot as we were.

Saving us from Don, his wife, and from the inevitability of accepting or declining their offer to have sex with them, the phone rang. As if it was a divine intervention, it was fated that we wouldn't be having sex with Don and his lovely wife, Minnie. Literally saved by the bell, few people had those giant cellphones back then and he had to walk to the other side of the room to answer the phone.

"Excuse me," he said.

'Thank God,' I thought.

Able to hear him talking, there was another couple on the phone. I hoped they were more our age. They were lost and needed directions to his house. While Don was on the phone, we mingled and introduced ourselves to some of the other guests. Glad that I had waited to approach another couple and a woman as a potential sex partner, when the lost couple arrived a few minutes later, the woman was a knockout.

'Oh, my God,' I thought.

Obviously by his immediate sexual attraction, she was his idea of a swinger. She was his image of someone that he imagined seeing at an exclusive swinging party in Beverly Hills, on the French Riviera, or in someone's mansion, ala Tom Cruise in Eye Wide Shut. Suddenly, with the arrival of this lost couple, this swingers' house party had grown much more interesting.

A beautiful blonde about 5'7" tall, her partner or husband was good looking too. As if this meeting was prearranged, bypassing his other swinging guests to deliver this exceptionally good looking couple to us, Don walked the couple over to Yvonne and me. As if this couple was just for us, hand delivered and introduced to us by our host, I was starting to like swingers' house parties more. With the four of us around the same age, they were meant for us and we were meant for them.

*** MadMadMadMaxine ***

"Yvonne, Skip, this is Sue and Bill. Being that this is your first time here for all four of you, I thought you may feel more comfortable with one another," said Don leaving us to get to know one another better.

When I saw Bill walking Sue and Bill over to us, I felt as if I had just won the swingers' lottery. I looked over at Yvonne and as if Bill was the only man in the room, she had a big smile on her face.

"Hi," I said shaking Bill's hand and leaning in to give Sue a kiss on the cheek.

She smelled amazing. Only, a cheap trick that horny men usually do, she surprised me by turning her head to kiss me on the lips. Surprised that she turned her head to kiss me on the lips, I stared at her with eyes wide open.

It was just a peck but when she kissed me, between the softness of her lips and the taste of her lipstick, I felt something. I feel something deeper than just imagining my cock being buried in her mouth or in her pussy, I felt love. Love at first sight, I was in love with Sue. I don't know why or how it happened but it just did.

With swingers not supposed to fall in love with one another, I couldn't believe that I suddenly felt love for Sue. I hadn't had felt this feeling since I saw Yvonne for the first time across a crowded room. As if she was the only woman there, I zeroed in on her and the rest is our history. Now, even though I didn't know the woman and didn't know anything about the woman, I had that same feeling for Bill's wife.

How can that happen? This wasn't supposed to happen. We're swingers. We're not normal, emotionally, feeling people. Everything we feel is about sex and certainly not about love, especially not for someone else's spouse. With us going from couple to couple, all we feel are orgasms. Yet, with me already sexually attracted to the woman, it was more than just a kiss; it was a connection. I was in love with Sue.

Moreover, beyond what I was feeling for her, I was encouraged that someone who looked like her would want to kiss someone who looked like me. Not that I was a bad looking man, I wasn't. I was a good looking, muscular man who was physically fit but she was hot, really hot. She was the hottest woman there besides Yvonne. Dare I say, she was even hotter than Yvonne. Together we were easily the sexiest and the hottest couples in the room.

"Nice to meet you," said Bill shaking my hand.

Not wasting any time, when Bill leaned in to kiss Yvonne on the cheek, being the whore that she is, she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a French kiss. That's my wife. Already claiming the man for herself after just having met him, my wife is such a slut for sexual attention.

'Fuck me,' I thought. 'Here we go.'

Embarrassed by my wife's aggressive sexual actions, Yvonne was such a whore. Watching her sticking her tongue down the man's throat, I couldn't believe my eyes. Before making any kind of conversation, my wife was French kissing a man she didn't even know and had just met. When it comes to Yvonne, what else is new?

'What the fuck? Gees,' I thought. 'What is she going to do next? Get down on her knees and blow him? Fuck. Instead of shaking his hand, she'd rather suck his prick.'

Now wanting to French kiss Sue in the way my wife had French kissed Bill, I didn't want to cheapen our first meeting with tawdry sex. Instead I turned to make myself another drink. With Yvonne's aggressive, sexual actions staying with me, I wished I was French kissing Sue in the way that my wife was French kissing Bill. I wish I had made that kind of sexual move on Sue in the way that Yvonne had done with Bill. Only, what woman can get away with doing, guys can't. Besides, I didn't have the sexual confidence that my wife had. As a beautiful, sexy woman, she could get away with things that I never could as a man.

"We have a full bar," I said to Bill but looking at Sue.

As if I was diving too deep without my scuba gear, she took my breath away. As if I was a teenager in puppy love, she stole my heart. When I looked at her, my feelings for her were more than just sex. They were more about love, romance, companionship, and commitment.

She was so very beautiful and she had two of the things that I like in a woman. She had big tits. She had much bigger tits than Yvonne.

"What will you have to drink?"

Oddly enough, something that I never considered with all of the other couples we have had sex with, but Sue gave me a smile that made me wish that I was married to her instead of to Yvonne. She literally melted me with her big, blue eyes. Instead of just feeling infatuation or a sexual attraction, I was feeling love for Susan.

Love at first sight, that's not supposed to happen with married swingers. I couldn't believe I was in love with Sue. Yet, with me not knowing anything about the woman other than she was beautiful, I questioned if it was real love. Maybe just an infatuation because my wife had made me jealous by French kissing Bill, I wanted to make Yvonne jealous by falling in love with Sue.

"A screwdriver for me," said Sue putting her finger to her lips while staring down at the bulge that gave character and definition to my pants.

I couldn't believe that I caught Sue staring at my bulge. Beyond flattered, typically someone who looks like her never looks twice at me and here she was checking out my package. Suddenly, I felt like Billy Joel with Christie Brinkley. I looked at Bill to take his drink order.

"Scotch on the rocks," said Bill as if he was trying to impress me and as if it was a big deal that he drank scotch.

Don had six different kinds of scotch from blended to single malt.

"Which kind of scotch? They have several," I said.

Don even had my brand, Glen Levitt.

"It doesn't matter," said Bill. "Scotch is scotch. Dewar's or Cutty Sark is fine."

'Yuck, I thought. For him to drink cheap blended scotch when the host had single malted scotch available, obviously, he's not a scotch connoisseur.'

I made Sue's drink and handed it to her and made Bill's drink and hand that to him. Then, I freshened Yvonne's rum and coke and poured another dram of Glen Levitt, 12-year-old, single malt scotch in my glass. In the way that Bill was drinking his blended scotch with ice, obviously he knew nothing about scotch. Not to dilute the aroma or the flavor, I drank mine with just a splash of water and without ice.

As soon as Sue and Bill took their seats on the couch, Yvonne pulled me aside to whisper in my ear.

*** MadMadMadMaxine ***

"What do you think of them?" Not waiting for my reply, she answered her own question. "I really like him. I can't wait to fuck him and suck his cock," she said as if she was already fantasizing of fucking him before sucking his cock. Then, as if it was an afterthought, she asked me what I thought of Sue. "Do you like her?"

'Like her? Duh? I love her. How could I not like someone who looked like her? I wish I was married to her instead of to you,' I wanted to say to my wife but I didn't dare. 'I want a divorce, Yvonne,' I wanted to say that too but I didn't say that either.

Not liking her would be akin to the average man in the street turning up his nose at a beauty, contestant queen and saying that she wasn't his type. Not your type? Look at her. Look at her face, her hair, her body, and those long, shapely legs. What's not to like?

"She's okay," I said instead with a disinterested shrug.

She shot me a look.

"Okay?" She made a face. "Just okay?" She laughed.

Suddenly seeing myself in my wife, obviously, by the way she was looking at Bill was the way that I was looking at Sue. It was at that moment that I realized that perhaps my wife was in love with Bill in the way that I was in love with Sue. More realistically, it was at that moment that I realized for the first time that we were swingers. Of course, I knew we were swingers having swung with other couples for years, but as if looking at myself in the mirror, I could see myself as how I perceived others saw me.

In the way Yvonne already had her tongue down Bill's throat, I knew she liked him. Not saying much for my wife's taste in men, even though Bill was a good looking man, Yvonne seemingly would like any man her age, a little younger, or a little older. As long as he had a big, hard prick, that was her main criteria in picking a man for sex. Yet, with Yvonne not having much of a preference for men in the way I had a preference for women, no matter how old the man was, she'd have sex with him at least once.

'Pardon? You want to have sex with me? Show me your cock first,' I imagine Yvonne saying to a potential sexual partner. I imagined my wife carrying a small, pocket tape measure with her, the kind that shoots back in the case when she's done measuring the man's prick. 'You'll do.'

"I like them. I think they're nice," I said while suppressing myself from saying that Sue was hot and has much bigger tits than you.

Nice was my code word for saying that I can't wait to get Sue alone. Not that my wife had small tits, she had shapely B cup breasts but comparing Sue's body to my wife's body was like comparing Scarlett Johansson rack to Jennifer Lawrence's modest breasts. There was no comparison.

*** MadMadMadMaxine ***

Now that my wife was on board, I wanted to wait until Bill and Sue finished their drinks before inviting them upstairs. While sipping our drinks, we made small talk. Yet, before I could invite them upstairs, Bill asked Yvonne the question. Who could blame him? Aside from his wife, Yvonne was the best looking and sexiest woman there.

"Would you like to go somewhere more private?"