Changing Partners 3

The marriage had been nothing but shaky from the beginning. I do understand that nobody wants to read about a marriage failure, but this tale is as much a success story as one of a marriage on the rocks. I had watched her flirt all afternoon and as she danced with guy after guy I wondered as the evening progressed just how far my unhappy wife would take things.

She had never, as far as I knew, been with anyone else, but if her actions were any indication, things that night were about to change. I sat back and watched as she danced with one fellow after another. Each one she seemed to snuggle closer to, and each one boldly put his hands on her very lovely ass as they danced. She wasn't protesting, and as the evening went on things got more intense and undisguised.

Secretly, because of our shaky marriage, I was hoping one would get his way with her, since she had made it clear she was out to find a new lover that night, and under no uncertain terms would she be deterred.

By ten each of her dance partners was coming close to fucking my wife on the dance floor. As the empty glasses were collecting at our table, and the size of the group of men waiting to dance with her increased, the dancing got more daring and more erotic and closer to the bedroom. I was very sure that by midnight one of those lucky dance partners would be deep-fucking my not so happy "little lady." At least I hoped so. You see, we had been moving toward destruction for about a year. I think we both had decided that day, or rather she had decided, and I had acquiesced, that she would do her best to attract a fellow that night at the dance who would fuck her like she deserved to be fucked and give her the satisfaction she felt she had coming.

We had been bickering and talking about it for months, arguing actually, about how bad I was at fucking and sucking and being a husband. Her "coming out party" we called it, said she would be coming out of the desperate housewives closet and finding herself a replacement. She had been hot to trot unmistakably with another woman's husband, or boyfriend, or brother, she wasn't choosy. She just wanted a new one to take the place of the one she had, me.

She made it plain she wanted to find someone who knew how to please a pussy, which she made clear I did not. As she dance her way through the men at the club that night, Randy, a friend of mine came over and sat at my table. "Your wife seems to be having fun tonight," he said. "One of these fellows might be fucking your bride before the night is over," he told me with a grin, obviously trying to get a rise out of me.

"I hope so. I can't make her happy anymore," I said, "why shouldn't one of them have a chance to do a little horizontal two step with an unhappy housewife," I said lifting my glass in a toast. "I wish her well," I said.

"You don't mind one of them fucking your little lady?" he asked.

"I honestly hope one of them does," I said. "I was thinking about holding a raffle. A drawing to determine who wins her. Let some guy win her away from me." He looked at me and shook his head. "Really," I said. "Some lucky guy could capture her cherry, don't you think, get himself a woman tonight?" He walked away and looked over his shoulder and shook his head. "You want to buy a ticket?" I yelled after him.

She had told me I was not "the best fuck in the neighborhood." She had been groaning about 'bad sex' for months, and complaining about nearly everything I did. No, it wasn't nearly, it was everything. I finally asked what she wanted to do. "Find someone who knows how to please a woman," she said angrily. You may think this is unkind, but I have always told her I wanted her to be honest with me, and they always say, 'careful what you wish for.'

"Okay," she said, "you're a rotten fuck, you're a bad husband, and you have a tiny dick and you kiss like a fish. There I have said it. So what now?" I said she needed to find someone who could rise to her standards. "Okay, I will," she said, determined to find what she needed.

I realized that at about eleven it looked like she had found him. At that time she had been dancing with only one guy, Charles, for the last forty minutes or so. It wasn't the other guys stopped being interested, but Charley would simply not let go of her.

It was about that time in the evening that Claire came over at my table. She worked at the same school my wife did, although they were not what one would call friends. She looked at me like I was a Holocaust survivor and shook her head. "Patty is certainly having a good time tonight," she said.

"She's shopping," I said. She looked confused, so I said it again. "She is out shopping for a new husband," I said. "She wants a replacement. Looks like she may have found one," I said, motioning with my head towards Patty and Charles, dancing cheek to cheek.

"Would you like to dance?" Claire asked with a smile I couldn't have resisted if I had wanted to, and at that point I certainly didn't want to. We began to dance and she asked about my shopping comment.

"We've been having some trouble," I said. "She has not been happy for a while."

"She looks happy now," she said

"She's happiest when she has a man in her arms," I said.

"Other than you?" she asked.

"Certainly other than me," I said.

Claire and I danced for nearly an hour, and neither of us noticed that Patty had seemed to vanish. We sat back down and Claire mentioned that Patty seemed to be gone. "I think she may have finished her shopping," I said.

At midnight Claire and I said goodnight and I only looked for Patty briefly, then decided she would find her own way home. I got home at one and went right to bed. At ten the next morning a car pulled up in front of the house. It was Charley dropping Patty off at the front door. She made no pretense of not showing him her gratitude for their night, kissing him enthusiastically on the front porch.

We didn't talk about her night and she hadn't seemed to notice the time I spent with Claire. Two days later I ran into her again at the bank. I thanked for the dances and she asked if Patty had gotten home all right. "Yes," I said, "she found a ride." She hemmed and hawed around the subject for a while, then she asked me if I would be interested in going out for drinks or meeting for another night of dancing.

I told her I would, that I thought Patty would be similarly occupied and that I would love to. We made a date for that Friday night at the same club where we met before. I knew Patty would be pleased not to have me weighting her down and I figured Charley would certainly be looking out for her interests.

That Friday we met at the club and began to dance almost immediately. Patty and Charley had chosen another club on the other side of town and I was glad about that. At eleven Claire asked me if I would be interested in stopping by her place for a drink. I accepted quickly and within twenty minutes we were standing in her living room with drinks in our hands.

By midnight we were side by side in her bed and our clothes were in piles on the floor. She started to say something and I stopped by covering her mouth with mine. Our lips met and our tongues began to play together. For the next forty minutes we engaged in some very intimate romance on top of the bed, in plain sight, with me inserted deep in her vagina, and with her bucking and bouncing like an excited urban housewife beneath me.

We fucked like minks for over an hour and then stretched out next to one another and tried to catch our breath. "You think Patty is similarly engaged?" she asked with a tired smile.

"Most certainly," I said. "Except I think she started far sooner than we did." For the next few hours we didn't talk at all about my marriage, or hers either for that matter. Her husband had found himself a replacement of his own and left with her for the tall timber earlier in the year.

The next morning we woke side by side in her bed and she looked at me and smiled. "I am not the kind of wife who will get handed around to her husband's friends," she volunteered sleepily. "That's what he wanted and so he found himself a replacement of his own," she said with a sigh.

"If we ever do this again," she said tiredly, "I just want you to know I am a one-man woman. At least," she said defiantly, "one at a time." She laughed and snuggled against me. She went on to tell me her husband had wanted her to fuck his friends for him. "He wanted me to entertain him by shagging his buddies. There is no way I'm doing that, so he found himself one who would. I think Denise will fuck the whole Seventh Fleet for him, probably whether he wants her to or not. Sorry, I am being caddy, right. But fucking is not for me a spectator sport or a group activity either."

She was quiet for a while, just thinking. "I don't usually pick men up and bring them to my flat."

"To your flat? You spent some time in jolly old England?" I asked.

"That's where Kenneth was stationed for five years. We lived in London for the last two years." After we talked for a bit we got up and ate breakfast and talked a bit more about our marital experiences. I left at noon and when I got home I found Patty had moved out. All of her things were gone, her clothes (the closets were empty except for my clothes pushed to one side of the bar), her makeup and toiletries, her computer, books and magazines, and her cat.

The house was mostly empty and seemed deserted. Patty's pictures were taken off the walls and a couple of the frames were left empty. I called Claire that afternoon and told her Patty had left. "Charley have a new roommate?" she asked. I said probably so and we both smiled to ourselves.

That night we had dinner together at my house, watched a little tv, then went to bed and made very passionate sex in my bed with the covers on the floor. She climbed on top, put her knees on each side of my hips, and began bouncing over me in the most vigorous cowgirl I'd had in years. Patty was very sexual, but she was less concerned with my pleasure during sex, and she was less inclined to get on top.

Before we finished we kissed with a passion i had not seen from anyone in as long as I could remember. Sex with Patty was a "hurry up and do me" affair, and kisses weren't her favorite sexual activity, being eaten was, and she wanted me there for as long as I could manage to stay between her thighs without breathing much. Not that I didn't like oral, but there were other things that held my interest as well. Oral only meant cunnilingus, so fellatio was very, very rare in Patty's and my family, and it was also always very short.

That first night I got a call from Patty that said the divorce was in progress and she would moving in with Charles. I guess Charley was only Charles and she would be Mrs. Charles as soon as possible. In the minimum amount of time the divorce papers showed up on my doorstep and were signed, sealed, and delivered before a second was lost.

In the mean time Claire had moved in with me and her clothes were hanging next to mine in my closet, with her toiletries in the bathroom and her shoes next to the bed. A comfortable nightgown was hung in the closet and a new soft pillow was next to mine.

I will not be sharing Claire with a group of male friends or watching her fuck a black coworker, but I will know she is home waiting for me and there will be a big family-style Thanksgiving dinner every year. We have sex, private married sex, very often and very heated as much as our age and busy lives will allow.

I don't worry that she'll be looking for a replacement anytime soon, and if she is I won't be selling raffle tickets to men on the street. You can say that I am happy, and we are holding off on the marrying part because we have decided to take it slow and easy, after the experiences we had with previous spouses. I hope this "no group sex or wife-sharing letter didn't disappoint you, but sex for us is rather staid and traditional. Sorry to disappoint you, but not all marriages are not open.