It wasn't the first time I'd met her, but it was the night things changed for me.
The first time we'd had dinner together, been naked, had sex. Connecting through a swingers website, it was a couples night. My wife and I, she and her husband. We enjoyed their company, far more than we expected, finding we had a lot in common including mutual friends. They were great fun - my wife and I agreed later we'd love to have them as friends in the 'real world' if it were possible.
And from the moment we met I was attracted to her. A lot. She's blonde and has a tanned complexion, a stunning figure and an augmented chest that's been carefully chosen to look so very natural. This is a seriously good looking lady. Within a couple of hours of our hellos and introductions I was deep inside her, naked between the crisp white sheets of a luxury hotel room. Life was good!
That was almost a month earlier, and while we'd looked forward to seeing them again, there were no huge expectations on our part for this second meet. Dinner would be in a classy restaurant then we planned to move onto an adult club. A second meeting was fairly new for us as it's early in our journey of exploration with other couples. I'd liked her, enjoyed their company, even without having felt any stand-out connections. We've already known some disappointment so I guess on this occasion we were cautious. But it was going to be a fun night and the club excursion added to our anticipation.
Then at some time through this second evening together, something changed.
We found them in the bar, drinks in hand, smartly dressed and both looking glamorous. It was then I noticed her smile for the first time. She'd smiled a lot that first night, I'm sure of that. But this night the smile was infectious. Maybe she'd relaxed, was more open, more vulnerable. Maybe I was more aware of her. Less overwhelmed by all the new things to take in on a first meeting. But it's crystal in my mind - her smile and the way I felt when I met it.
We flirted over dinner, she next to me, my wife next to her husband. Tucked in a booth with a measure of privacy, I reached for her under the table. Stroked her leg until she reached for my hand. The newness of touch and the thrill of a semi public connection. Married but intimate with another. I grew braver, tracing my hand up her thigh, above the hem of her skirt. She parted her legs slightly, encouraging me upward, leaning in to me, our conversation full of innuendo and promise.
Then in that public restaurant, hidden in our intimate corner, I glided my fingers lightly over her, the thin veil of her underwear straining to protect her modesty. Even while she remained fully clothed I could feel she was warm and swollen. Wanting.
And she smiled.
We finished dinner and drove south to the club. It wasn't our first time there but it was theirs. Surrounded by industrial sheds, this place is tacky and cheap. It's website promises an exclusive venue that's lost in the delivery, and call me a snob, but the crowd on this night were not classy, not good looking. Luckily the four of us had each other and we found a spot next to the pool table and relaxed with a drink.