Memoirs of a Swinger Ep. 37

This is the thirty-sixth episode of my unreliable memoirs recounting sexual encounters in the nineteen eighties. Each episode is self-contained, so you can read them without having read the previous ones.

It's 1985 and Steven and Lesley play host to a friend from France.

I hope you enjoy it.

M4bloke

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A Whirlwind Hits Town

Lesley and I had got up early that Sunday morning to pick a friend up from the airport. Emma was twenty-six and a veterinary assistant from Aix-en-Provence. She was married to Claude who was a pilot in the French air force and Emma and Claude were swinging friends of Carole and Fabien, which is how we'd come to meet them.

Back in the summer, Emma had told me that she wanted to come to London to do an English language course. Her problem had been the cost of accommodation and so I'd offered that she could stay with us. What I hadn't realised at the time was that the course was three months' long. It didn't really matter though, even if we'd known, we'd still have offered.

I'd slept with Emma a few times in France. Looks-wise she was a stunner, but Emma's real super power was somehow making a man feel good about himself. I don't quite know how she managed it but she did. She always had a smile on her face and she had the ability to make you believe that you were the reason for it.

The original plan had been to go through the arrangements for Emma's visit with her and Claude at New Year. But that had gone by the wayside when we'd had to cancel our trip. As a result, neither Emma nor we really knew what to expect.

We got to Heathrow with half an hour to spare and so I got some coffees while Lesley popped to the newsagents to pick up a paper. It was one of those newsagents that you always find in airports which sold everything. When she returned she handed me a book.

"You know, last night, you said you'd never read anything for fun. Well read this," she told me. "You'll enjoy it."

I looked at the book and read the cover.

"The Thirty Nine Steps, by John Buchan. Thanks," I replied.

"Promise you'll read it?"

"I promise."

When the flight landed, Emma was one of the last to emerge into the arrivals area but when she did her face lit up when she saw us. There was a round of hugs and then I carried her enormous suitcase out to the car while Lesley chatted to her about the journey.

Emma had never been to London before and so, as it was a Sunday and the roads were quiet, we took a detour into the centre of the city to quickly show her the sights from Lesley's Land Rover Defender.

When we got to our house in Wimbledon I could see that Emma was pleasantly surprised by it but we were probably going to disappoint her as far as the bedroom was concerned.

Until the builders finished the extension over the garage in a couple of months' time, the house only had its original four bedrooms. Two were large ones with en-suite facilities and two were smaller with a shared bathroom. Lesley and I had the master bedroom, while Carole and Suzy each had one of the smaller ones. We kept the other large bedroom for guests at the weekend and various couplings during the week.

"You can have the large room during the week," Lesley explained, "but at the weekend I'm afraid you might have to move into Carole's room."

"Ok," Emma said smiling.

"Or," Lesley said hesitating, "you can have the basement room."

We'd had so many plans for the basement room but had done nothing with it since we'd moved in. It had been used as a den by the previous owners and we'd thought about turning it into our own playroom. Currently, it housed all of the spare furniture from Lesley's old flat in Nottingham, which gave it a sort of studio apartment feel.

"There's a toilet and a washbasin in the basement too, but there's no bath or shower. So you'd have to use the one upstairs," Lesley explained showing Emma the room. "There's no natural light either. But there is a television and a big comfy double bed and you can stay in this all week rather than moving out at weekends. It's your choice."

"This is perfect," Emma said.

"Great," Lesley told her.

"But I can sleep with you as well?"

This was a subject Lesley and I had wanted to discuss with Emma and Claude at Christmas. We hadn't wanted Emma to think that sex was a condition of her staying with us.

"You can sleep with us any time you want," Lesley told Emma, giving her a hug. The she added, "Except on Fridays. I get Steven all to myself on Fridays."

"Actually we wanted to ask you and Claude about sex..." I said, fumbling for the right words.

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," Emma interrupted.

"We don't want you to do anything you aren't happy with," I told her.

"I know," Emily said with her trademark smile.

Munich Again

At five thirty on Monday morning and I was sitting with Uwe, Sam and Lynne in the Business Class lounge at Heathrow airport. Although it was early, the place was full of business travellers heading out at the start of a new week.

The four of us were heading out for three days of meetings with the team at Obermann Automotive but due to the early hour, everyone was a bit subdued. After the plane had taken off, I pulled out the book that Lesley had bought me and started to read it.

"The Thirty Nine Steps," Sam said when he saw what I was reading.

"Lesley bought it for me. Have you read it?"

"A while ago."

"You can be honest with me. Is it a children's book?"

"Not really," he replied laughing. "But it's not exactly Shakespeare either."

I explained to Sam that, other than textbooks, I hadn't actually read a book since leaving school.

"It's a good choice, if you like a bit of adventure," Sam offered. "Buchan wrote a series. This one's the first and probably the best."

I settled down to read the book, which turned out to be a spy thriller. It was nothing like the books I'd been made to read at school and I soon found myself absorbed in it.

By the time we sat down with the Obermann team at their Munich offices, it was already midday. The automotive division was just one part of the massive Obermann empire but it had been prioritised as a target for modernisation. The head of division was an older man, by the name of Christian Wiese and to begin with he'd been sceptical of the consultancy work we were providing. But we'd managed to convince him and in return he'd assembled a good team to work with us.

Since Sam and Uwe had come on board in November we'd undertaken a pretty thorough review of the division and the potential areas for modernisation. Now the work needed to be prioritised and to do this we had to consider a number of factors, such as the size of the project, the expected benefits, the risk of failure and, of course, the cost.

By the end of the first day we'd made good progress but, after the Obermann guys had left, the four of us continued to work late into the evening, preparing the material for the following day's workshop.

Rather than eat in the hotel we stopped at an Italian restaurant on the way back. It served pizza, so I was a happy man. The conversation over dinner was upbeat and it led me to suggest that when we were all in the UK we should all go out for a meal with our partners.

"How about this Friday?" I suggested.

Everyone was in agreement, although Lynne looked a bit concerned. Almost immediately, I realised that Sam didn't know she was a lesbian.

When we returned to the hotel it was ten thirty. We'd all had a long day so decided not to have a drink in the bar. Before she went up to her room I caught Lynne and apologised.

"I'm sorry about suggesting the partners thing," I told her.

"It doesn't matter," Lynne replied. "Suzy knows about Siobhan and me, so I'm guessing that Uwe does by now. It's just Sam and his wife."

"I don't think Sam will have a problem."

"Have you slept with Sam's wife, Steven?"

"Actually, she's his girlfriend, but yes."

"Then I'm guessing he won't have a problem," Lynne laughed. "Is there anyone you haven't slept with, by the way?"

"Well, you, I guess."

Suzy laughed, we had a quick hug then went to our separate rooms. I sat in bed for a bit and read my book then fell sleep.

******************

We got a lot done in a full day at the office on Tuesday and to thank the Obermann team for their effort I'd arranged a meal for everyone that evening. I say 'I'd arranged,' but it was Lynne who'd actually done everything. I'd just come up with the suggestion.

Lynne had booked a table at the Ratskeller, a well-known restaurant in Munich where the emphasis was as much on the beer as it was on the food. Christian Wiese joined his team for the meal but made his excuses afterwards and left early. Christian knew it would be difficult for his team to let their hair down while the boss was around.

What nobody had expected however was that Ferdi Obermann and his wife, Ursula would turn up later in the evening. Most of the Obermann team had never met the head of the company they worked for, let alone shared a beer with him. So, for them, it was a big thing.

Ferdi took his team to one side and gave them a pep talk, leaving Ursula to talk the four of us. Ursula started the conversation off, but in German. I couldn't understand a word of what was being said so I amused myself by scouring the room for Ferdi and Ursula's bodyguards. Since the seventies, Ferdi had been known to be on a Red Army Faction hit list, with Ursula as a potential kidnap target. The bodyguards weren't hard to spot. They were the fit guys drinking Coca Cola in a beer Keller.

Switching to English, Ursula said cheekily, "They all say what a terrible boss you are, Steven. What have you got to say for yourself?"

"Erm, I don't really know?" I responded.

"He's not so bad, really," Lynne said, sticking up for me.

"He rides a motorbike too, so that's a point in his favour," Sam added.

"And he is my girlfriend's landlord," Uwe chipped in.

"How is Suzy?" Ursula asked Uwe.

"She is very well Frau Obermann, thank you for asking."

"You look after that girl," Ursula told him. "If you don't then you'll have me to answer to."

"There's a long list of people who've already told me the same thing, Frau Obermann, but I will add your name to it," Uwe replied, making Ursula laugh.

When Ferdi had finished his pep talk he and Ursula got up to leave. Ferdi shook all of our hands and then Ursula did likewise. I wanted to kiss her or get a hug at least but I knew it wasn't possible in public.

Afterwards, more beer was consumed but, as the night went on, the Obermann crowd dwindled and at midnight we decided to call it quits.

******************

We finished the workshop at three o'clock on the Wednesday afternoon. Sam and Lynne headed off to the airport, while Uwe went back to the house he shared with Gerhard, in Munich. He still had another day with Obermann before returning to London and no doubt, to Suzy.

I picked up the keys to my hire car and headed south, out of the city. In the distance I could see the Alps stretched out in front of me. But this time my destination wasn't the chalet in Garmisch that had been the scene of previous liaisons with Ursula. This time I was going to be a guest of both Ferdi and Ursula at their home on the shores of the Starnberger See.

The heavy iron gates guarding the entrance looked imposing but once I'd announced myself over the intercom, they opened slowly, allowing me to enter. I followed a road through woodland until my destination came into view. It was just as Suzy had described. A fairy-tale castle. The sort of thing you saw on a chocolate box or a jigsaw puzzle.

I parked up on the huge driveway and a man came out to meet me. I recognised him from Markus and Heike's swingers' party in October. He'd approached me when I'd tried to retrieve Ursula's overnight bag from her car. I remembered noticing the bulge under his jacket at the time. It was still there but now he looked a lot friendlier.

"Welcome Mr. Carter. This way please," the guard said.

"I just need my suitcase," I told him.

"There is no need. If you give me your keys I will make sure it is brought up to your room."

I handed the keys over and followed him into the grand entrance hall where an attractive middle aged lady, dressed in the traditional Dirndl, was waiting.

"Mr Carter, it's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Ingrid."

"Pleased to meet you. This place is quite something."

"Thank you. Mr. Obermann takes its upkeep very seriously. But I am afraid that both he and Mrs Obermann are still in Munich at the moment. They asked that you join them for drinks in their apartment at seven, if that's alright."

"That would be great."

"As you are already aware, I think, Mr Obermann has a preference for dressing in the traditional Bavarian style. There is no obligation, but if you would like to do the same, then you will find some clothes in your room. Your assistant provided us with your measurements. I hope that they fit, but if they don't, please let me know."

"Sounds great."

"Then let me show you to your room."

The view over the lake from my bedroom window was spectacular. If I'd had a camera I would have taken some pictures to show Lesley. I thought about going for a run but the light was already beginning to fade. It was cold outside too, much colder than in London. So I sat on the bed and read a bit more of my book. It felt odd reading a spy thriller, in which the Germans were definitely the villains, while sitting on the bed in a Bavarian castle.

At six thirty I thought I should start getting ready. It occurred to me that I was stuffed if the clothes Ingrid had provided for me didn't fit and gave myself a mental ticking off for not trying them on earlier. I showered, shaved then looked in the wardrobe for my outfit. It wasn't exactly what I'd expected. Yes, there were the traditional Lederhosen but they were combined with a simple white shirt and a fantastic waistcoat that looked almost like tweed. The boots were the best part however. They were a cross between a dress shoe and a hiking boot and I'd never seen such a well-made pair before.

I left my room just before seven. But then it hit me that I had no idea where I was supposed to meet Ferdi and Ursula. I went back to the entrance hall and started to look for somebody but nobody was around. Fortunately I could hear people talking in the distance. I followed the voices downstairs and into the kitchens and there, sitting at a table, was the guard I'd seen earlier, joking with two pretty young girls both dressed in Dirndls. When he saw me he shot out of his chair looking embarrassed and the two girls guiltily disappeared back to whatever they should have been doing.

"Can you direct me to the Obermann's apartment?" I asked.

"Of course Mr. Carter. Follow me."

I followed him back to the entrance hall, up one flight of a very ornate staircase and then along a corridor. At the end was a large oak door set in a stone surround. The guard pressed a buzzer and then a few seconds later Ferdi opened the door.

"Steven, good to see you," Ferdi said, greeting me. Then turning to the guard he added, "Thank you Werner."

I thanked the guard too and he left us.

"I wasn't sure where your apartment was and so I had to ask."

"Didn't Ingrid tell you?" Ferdi asked.

"That was probably my fault," I said and Ferdi laughed.

"Anyway, you're here now, come through to the sitting room."

I followed Ferdi into what was a huge sitting room and there was Ursula, sitting on a sofa. She got up and smiled at me with that cheeky smile of hers.

"Steven, it's so good to see you," she said.

I wasn't sure how to greet Ursula in front of her husband and so I gave her a polite hug.

"I think you can do better than that," Ferdi said encouragingly. "My wife has done little more than think about tonight all week."

"That's not true," Ursula said reprimanding her husband, then taking me back into her arms. "Well, not entirely."

Kissing Ursula felt as good as I'd remembered it to be and I soon forgot my concerns about being affectionate in front of Ferdi. I'd missed Ursula. She'd had cosmetic surgery on her C-section scar in November and I hadn't seen her since then.

"That's more like it," Ferdi said when we came up for air.

"Yes it is," Ursula agreed.

"You look stunning by the way," I said, commenting on the dress she had on. It was half Dirndl, half cocktail dress. Ursula always looked classy, never tarty.

"Thank you. You look very handsome too." Then looking at her husband, she said, "Both of you do."

"Thank you for inviting me here," I told the two of them. "This is a fantastic place."

"It's been in our family for four generations," Ferdi offered.

"I like the idea that you have an apartment in it."

"Castles like this were always meant for more than one family," he explained. "In the past, you often had multiple generations living in them. Then there were the servants and retainers, of course. This place is far too big for just the two of us, so we live in one wing."

"This is our private space," Ursula continued. "Now that the boys are at university they have their own apartments when they come home, in another part of the castle, away from their parents' prying eyes."

Ferdi poured us all a glass of champagne and we sat down. Instead of sitting next to her husband, Ursula came and sat with me. In full view she ran a hand up my leg, letting it come to rest on my crotch. Then, pulling her dress up, Ursula opened her legs and guided one of my hands down between her thighs, before kissing me. I ran my fingers over her panties then gently massaged her pussy through the delicate material. Ursula may have dressed classy but with her thighs parted and in full view of her husband, she could certainly act like a tart.

It was all for Ferdi's benefit of course. Ursula had told me that he liked to watch her with other guys and I could relate to that. I might have struggled to admit it but I felt the same way about watching Lesley.

I don't know how far she would have let me go but in any case it wasn't long before the buzzer to the apartment sounded. Ferdi went off to answer it while Ursula and I continued to make out.

"Dinner is ready," Ferdi announced when he came back.

The food was served in the apartment's dining room, which had a table big enough for twelve. The three of us sat at one end; Ferdi at the head with Ursula and me either side of him. A man and a woman waited on us and I recognised the woman as being one of the girls I'd seen in the kitchen earlier.

"Heike said you were a fan of Schnitzel, so that's what we're having tonight," Ursula told me.

"I absolutely love Schnitzel," I admitted.

"Me too," Ferdi agreed.

When the food had been served, the waiting staff disappeared, leaving us alone.

"How is Lesley?" Ursula asked.

"She's very well. Although, I've got some making up to do after ruining the holidays for her," I said, explaining how I'd messed up our plans for New Year.

"You wouldn't be the first man to do that to his wife, would he Ferdi?" Ursula said accusingly.

"They don't understand," Ferdi said, which earned him a stern look from his wife.

"How about yourselves?" I asked.

"Well, the twins came over from America. We had a few days skiing but the conditions weren't very good." Then Ursula asked, "Do you ski, Steven?"

"I'm afraid not. The conditions in Stepney, where I grew up, were never very good," I said trying to be ironic.

Ferdi snorted with amusement and Ursula looked slightly embarrassed.

"Oh my god, I sound like a snob, don't I?"

"Not you don't, Ursula. I'm sorry, I was being sarcastic. It's different here. You're close to the mountains. It's just that, where I grew up, people didn't go skiing."