I was just about to get into bed when my phone pinged. It was my husband, Tim texting from the West Coast. He still had a few weeks to go on his temporary work assignment out there. But he wrote that he was flying home for a couple of days. Strange he didn’t mention it when we talked earlier in the evening. He was arriving the day after tomorrow at about 7 PM.
Tim’s flight landed and we drove to the apartment I was sharing with my friend Denise. She was staying with her parents for a few days to give us more privacy. We were both tired the first night so went to bed early. I'd already asked for a couple of days off from work so we were eating a leisurely breakfast the next morning. It was obvious, though, that things were…not tense, but just a little awkward. Finally, Tim brought up a screen on his phone and handed it to me. It was a text.
While you've been on the West Coast
your wife's had a side gig as a
hooker. Attached is her profile on an
escort site. I've talked to two men who
paid her for sex. Who knows how many
more there are? Just a heads up.
My stomach dropped and I fought not to throw up. How could I have believed this wouldn’t happen? I sat frozen until Tim said, “I can see by your reaction that it’s true.”
There was no point in denying it. “Yes, it is... I did that.”
“What were you doing? Selling yourself! Do you think this person isn’t going to spread it around? We’ll both be unemployed. Or at least I will, you can turn tricks, I suppose.”
That stung but I can’t say I didn’t earn it. The more I tried to explain myself the less convincing I sounded – even to my own ear. “I’m truly sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know. Not easily. But I'll tell you this...it has to end. Whatever is happening, you have to get it under control.”
“I know. It’s like I became a nymphomaniac or something. If there even is such a thing. It's like a compulsion that comes over me. I have this irresistible urge to let them fuck me. And to have these wild experiences, like being paid for it.”
“You're saying that’s why you’re on that site? For the experiences?”
“That and it’s an easier way to get it without a lot of hassle. I don’t want relationship or sociability. Sometimes I just have this need to be a slut. It doesn’t make sense, I know. But when that comes on me, I can’t stop myself.”
“Well, I don’t think there is nymphomania, but there is addiction of various kinds. Whatever it is, we have to stop it before something else happens.”
I completely agreed but had no idea what to do. “Who sent that text?”
“It was Bert Swan. You remember – he was a neighbor when we had that apartment in the Northeast.” I remembered him as a creepy guy, always ingratiating while he leered at whatever woman was nearby. So he definitely knew who we were, where we worked and even some of our friends.
Denise didn’t know exactly what was going on but she tactfully stayed at her parents’ place to give us some space. I was very busy at work, which was a good thing. A few days after Tim’s arrival I asked him, “What should I do about work? I mean, should I tell Peter something before Swan does?”
“No, I had a word with Swan. I don’t think he…he’ll be quiet about it. I’m working out details, but I’ll be cutting the period out West short. I can continue in their affiliate office here. We don’t have to make a final decision about that job for a few months. In the meantime, we can get a sublet here and you can carry on with your work as usual.” That was all a relief. “You better tell Denise about Swan, too. He knows she was on that site. I doubt he’ll contact her now but he might.” I didn’t know what persuasion Tim had employed but he could be intimidating when he wanted to be.
_
Like me, Denise quit the date site right away. “I guess we were pretty careless,” she said, “we set ourselves up to get found out by someone. I kind of hate to go back to the regular dating thing, though. You know, meeting guys in bars and that. Maybe I’ll ask Dana about swinging parties?”
“Dana?” She was a woman we used to work with but who now had her own business. She was early forties, divorced and an acknowledged MILF babe.
“Oh yeah…she’s been living the swinger life for ages. Even when she was still married they were heavily involved. I wonder if you can go to their parties without all the social crap? What do you think? We should meet her some evening after work and find out.”
As Dana explained in exquisite detail, there are swinger groups for every taste. We listened intently. I was particularly interested in ad hoc gatherings that Dana put together herself from time to time. The idea was to cater to couples who wanted discretion and anonymity. The venues were always across a state line and at least forty miles from our city. The rule was that no couple could know any of the others ahead of the gathering (except for Dana of course) and no personal or contact information could be exchanged. It was also primarily geared toward hotwifing – where the female partner has sex with others with her male partner's permission, and often with him watching and sometimes participating. This sounded exactly like what I was hoping for. I hadn’t had the compulsion lately – or at least the need hadn’t risen to compulsion yet – but I knew it would if we didn’t find an outlet.
I described it all to Tim and we discussed the short list of rules and etiquette Dana sent me. He was not enthusiastic. I was sure he feared this would lead to more extreme conduct on my part. But after a lot of back and forth he was convinced to give it a try. On the evening of the gathering I dressed in one of those short little black dresses that are always sexy, and rather high heels. My husband thought I looked very hot. He, of course, is one of those guys who looks effortlessly good in everything.
The party was in a large suburban home, perhaps a thirty-five-minute drive away. Dana greeted us as soon as we entered the house. The place was fairly crowded with something like a dozen couples ranging in age from mid-twenties to early forties. There was a wide selection of drinks and both hot and cold hors d’oeuvres. Dana introduced us to a number of people – first names only. It was all quite ordinary, no orgy in progress.
It wasn’t long, though, before things became more intimate, starting with heavy flirting and progressing to fondling and folks slipping off to, I presumed, bedrooms. Tim and I spoke to several people who described some of their swinger experiences. A few were pretty wild but most were quite ordinary. Even so, and in spite of my recent sexual history, I couldn’t see myself doing some of those things. Tim seemed interested, but then he’s always diplomatic in a group.
About an hour or so into the party a group of four couples began a game, a kind of truth or dare. It was clear that the goal of the game was to get the women to answer intimate questions and accept dares that involved some erotic act, mainly showing bodily assets, although there was some hand job and brief tongue or lip action. We watched for a while but joined in when one couple moved on. The dares were becoming more daring as the game went on. It was fun, though.
One of the questions I was asked was, “What is your consummate sexual skill?” I made the mistake of saying deepthroating. Of course, when a dare came my way I was asked to demonstrate. I could have forfeited but this was a sex party, after all.
"Okay, but only with my husband." I glanced at Tim to make sure he was okay with this, and he gave me a slight nod. Of course I'd learned the art and developed my skill on Tim so I was confident of giving a good show.
The sofa we were gathered around was cleared and he sat facing me. I kneeled and stroked his cock though it was already impressively hard. He grew even larger and was soon dripping with pre-cum. I went down on Tim, aware that our small group was watching closely. I’d not done sex for an audience before but, now that I was doing just that, I found it was extraordinarily exciting. Hiking up my dress to make it easier, I sank deeper onto my folded legs and increased the angle of my neck. Opening wide, I slid his engorged dick deeper and deeper into my mouth until my lips were flat against his body. My eyes teared and I gagged ever so slightly. I could feel his cock expanding my throat, but not uncomfortably so.
I held the position until I was sure everyone saw I deep-throated his entire length, then I bobbed up and down on it repeatedly while sucking passionately. I went full deep three more times then pulled back to blow gently, my warm breath caressing his cock, licking him from tip to base before plunging down, then swallowing his hard-on all the way again. I pulled off and rubbed my face all around his glistening member, streaking myself with our combined fluids. Taking him in my mouth once more, I turned my head to the side so my cheek bulged with cock.
I could feel the head swelling in preparation so I contracted my mouth around his dick and sucked gently. Soon, with a series of strong pulses, he was filling my mouth with a surprising amount of semen. Some of it actually leaked from the sides of my mouth. I rose off him and held the goo in my mouth for several seconds before swallowing it. I was only slightly embarrassed when the spectators applauded warmly.
