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.
