Weeend Wives

There are four of us. We're all in our late forties and we've known each other since college. We're all married. Our husbands didn't know any of us or each other until they married one of us. Our kids have all graduated from college and working on their own careers or married although none have produced any grandchildren as yet. For all practical purposes, we're all empty nesters adapting to what comes next.

We all married career oriented men who have done well financially. Even with college degrees, we women opted for strong families. Over the last two plus decades, we dedicated ourselves to be mothers, wives and supporters of our husband's careers. We've all gained some weight, no longer obsessed with our figures. We're not overweight by any criteria, just full figured. We have what we all might not want and what my husband describes as love handles. We just don't have the incentive to exercise enough to turn the handles into finger pulls. The sole advantage that our husbands celebrate is that our boobs have gotten larger.

Our sex lives followed the usual pattern, frequent sex before the kids were born, more sedate and declining sex while they were home and attempting to recreate the frequency and intensity that we all remember since.

Amazingly, we all settled within a few miles of each other. Giselle lives in the same neighborhood as I do, Jessie in the same town and Cathy two miles further away in the next town over. We've been able to keep in contact over the years with occasional holiday gatherings at one of our homes. Retirement is a dozen or more years away and recently, the contact with each other has increased considerably as we attempt to fill in our time while our husbands are still working.

For all practical purposes, every weekday, except for some charitable activities, is the same for all of us, except Thursdays. Thursday afternoons we gather at one of our homes to play cards and exchange news and gossip. The conversations over the card table range widely, from family, kids, politics, sports, news and celebrities. The most frequent topic is sex.

Some portion of every Thursday afternoon is dedicated to sex. We all love sex. Contrary to some opinions, we all admit to less sex as we age. If anything, we all would like more sex and better sex if possible. But the reality is that less and worse sex seems to be the direction we're headed until it reaches zero.

Unfortunately, none of our husbands seem to share the same improved sex desire. They do love sex but, unless we start something, they rarely initiate something on their own. This is a reversal of our early years when our husbands seemed to have nothing but sex on their minds and we had to almost hide to get rest. Most people would consider that, "Normal." We're not most people.

Thursday afternoon, the card game was at my house. Cathy was the first to arrive. "Hi, Maddie," she greeted me with a hug. "Am I the first to arrive?"

"You are," I told her. "Drinks are in the kitchen." Giselle and Jessie arrived a few minutes later.

We settled around the card table in the den. Jessie was shuffling the cards. "What's the game this week?" she asked.

"Canasta?" suggested Cathy.

"We'll need another deck of cards," said Jessie.

"Bridge then?" Cathy tried again.

"How about Hearts?" suggested Giselle. "I don't have the concentration necessary for Bridge."

"No concentration," I spoke up. "Nothing exciting last week?"

"Nothing at all last week," admitted Giselle.

"No wild and exciting sex?" I prompted.

"No sex at all," Giselle confirmed.

"Damn," said Jessie. "That's my week as well."

I looked at Cathy. "How about you?" I asked.

"I guess I did better, if you can call once better," Cathy revealed.

"Twice for me," I stated. "And I thought I was in a sexual wasteland."

"We have to do something about it," stated Giselle.

"We?" asked Jessie. "I thought my problem was mine alone."

"We have to have some way to help each other to have more and better sex," stated Giselle.

"I love you guys," said Cathy. "But I'm not attracted to lesbian activities and neither Mike nor I are interested in companions while we have even infrequent sex."

Jessie looked around the table. "How about you, Madison? Any thoughts on the subject?"

"I'm certainly not happy about twice, or less, a week but I don't have a solution, except ..." I responded.

"Except?" asked Jessie. "What are you thinking?"

"It just occurred to me," I told her. "When did each of you do anything with your husband outside the home?"

"Scott and I went out to dinner Saturday night," Jessie said.

"Okay," I said. "Let's work with that. "Tell me, was Scott his usual self or was he more animated?"

"More animated I guess," stated Jessie. "He likes going out to dinner."

"You think it was the meal or the surroundings?" I asked.

"He usually orders the same thing every time," explained Jessie. "Probably the surroundings."

"Was it the architecture, the interior decoration or something else?" I asked.

"Something else?" questioned Jessie. "What else is there?"

"Let me try it another way," I said. "What about the people?"

"The people? I guess he was amused by the people," Jessie said.

More men or more women?" I pushed.

"Most of the diners were couples. About even," Jessie guessed.

"How about the waitresses?" I asked.

"Oh. If I add them in, then there was significantly more women," Jessie reconsidered.

"And was Scott focused more on the men or the women?"

"Certainly the women," Jessie confirmed. "Wait, I think I know where you're going. You're suggesting that Scott likes to go out to dinner to ogle on the women."

"I am but I'm not suggesting that he's doing it consciously. Even if he doesn't know their names or a snowball's chance of meeting them, they're someone different," I speculated.

"He does banter with the waitresses," Jessie observed. "Does that mean he's bored at home?"

"Bored is too strong a word. He knows you very well. He spends part of every day with you and he loves you. They're just different. A small, personal fantasy," I explained.

"Damn," whispered Jessie.

"How about the rest of you?" I asked. "Does any of this sound familiar?"

"I'm sad to say, it does," commented Giselle.

"Me too," agreed Cathy.

"I'm in the same situation," I admitted.

"So what can we do about it?" asked Cathy.

"I have no idea," I said. "The thought just occurred to me, not the solution."

We played Hearts. The game was uninspired. We were all thinking about the earlier conversation. We broke up about four pm.

"I need to talk to Von," commented Giselle.

"Whoa," I cautioned. "I don't think we should say anything to any of our husbands at this point. We don't know if anything we discussed is actually true and, if we're right, calling them on their fantasies could have long lasting damaging effects on our relationships. If we think once or twice a week is unacceptable, how does zero feel, without the possibility of more, ever. We fantasize too. It's harmless. How would we feel if our husbands called us on it?"

"Good advice," agreed Giselle. "But we need to find a solution."

"Think about it and let's talk next week," I suggested.

Drew and I went to dinner Friday night at Dolce Ristorante, his favorite Italian restaurant. I paid particular attention to his focus during the two hour meal. His eyes certainly focused more often and lingered longer on the women than any of the men.

I initiated sex with him when we went to bed. His response was noticeably more agreeable than usual, especially when he sucked my clit.

I fell asleep wondering if there was a connection between his focus during dinner and his focus during sex. Extrapolating a trend from a single data point was dangerous but it was a data point.

Thursday afternoon, I walked the two blocks to Giselle's house for cards and what I was sure would be a stimulating conversation.

When we were all present, Giselle grabbed an iced tea and headed for the card table.

"Wait," suggested Cathy. "I think we should all get a stiff drink and settle comfortably in the living room to talk."

Nobody dissented. Ten minutes later we all had double strawberry margaritas and were sitting in a rough circle on the sofa and chairs in the living room.

"I've been especially aware this week on where Mike focuses his attention when we're not home and he's looking mostly at other women," Cathy shared.

"It's the same with Von," added Giselle.

"And Scott," agreed Jessie.

"Okay," I summarized. "We've confirmed our speculation from last week." I turned to Cathy. "Cathy, you seem upset about what Mike is doing."

"I am," she confirmed. "More than upset. Almost angry."

"You shouldn't be," I stated.

"What! I am," insisted Cathy.

"Let me explain," I started. "There're more positives in his actions than negatives."

"Bullshit," said Cathy.

"First," I said. "It proves he's still interested in women, and you're a woman. Second, it proves that he's still interested in sex and you are where he goes to get it. Tell me, did you and Mike have sex after one of your forays out?"

"We did," admitted Cathy.

"And how was it? Worse, better or about the same as usual?" I asked.

"Marginally better," admitted Cathy.

"QED," I said.

"Okay, maybe I'm not so angry after all," said Cathy.

"How about the rest of you?" I asked.

"I have to admit that I sympathized with Cathy before," said Giselle. "Now I'm not so sure."

"Now that we've confirmed our theory, I think we have a way to get our arms around the situation," I stated.

"What does that mean?" asked Jessie.

"More and better sex for everyone," I explained.

"I don't see how that's possible," Jessie stated.

"Let's review," I suggested. "We believe that our men are noticing other women. We believe that they are probably fantasizing about the women they're looking at. And that leads to improved sex with us. Do we all agree?"

No one disagreed.

"Okay, the men fantasize. Answer me honestly. Do you ever fantasize about another man?" I asked.

"I'm ashamed to admit it, but I have," confessed Jessie.

"And does it lead to better sex with Scott?" I asked.

"Probably," Jessie admitted. "I've never thought about it before."

"Anybody feel differently?" I asked the group.

"Okay, we all fantasize and that improves sex," agreed Cathy. "How does that relate to a group solution?"

"That's the key," I said. "A group solution. I propose that we put some reality on the fantasy, not just for the men but for us too."

"Are you suggesting that we allow our men to have sex with other women?" asked Cathy. "That's not on my agenda."

"No, not with other women," I said. "You may have a reaction to what I'm about to say. Let me finish so you have the whole picture before you do, please."

All three women were quiet and on the edge of their seats.

"Let's start at home," I started. "None of us are unattractive. Yes, we have love handles but our boobs are bigger. With the exception of a few teeny boppers that are too ridiculous to consider, I'd put our looks, and bodies, up against any of the women the men might be admiring."

I could see Jessie grin and start to react. I pointed at her. "Let me finish," I told her.

"The best reality that I can imagine," I continued, "is, that as a group, we become the reality. We spend more time with the men. We flirt more with them. We inflate their egos. Give them something to fantasize about. If they feel good about themselves it has to be better for everyone."

"You want to fuck Mike?" asked Cathy.

"That's not what I said," I answered.

"But it is a possibility?" she asked.

"Probably," I agreed. "But it would be for the benefit of the group and you specifically. Don't forget, you might be fucking Drew."

"Fuck," said Cathy.

"Sounds like cheating or swinging to me," stated Jessie.

"Neither," I disagreed. "It's not cheating if we're above board and we all agree and it's not swinging, having random sex with strangers in a raucous party. We're a small, select group with a common goal and a common plan."

"I'm still not convinced," said Cathy. "I can't see myself sitting at home while one of you fucks Mike and send him home to me."

"Neither can I," I agreed. "That's why we have to have a coordinated plan."

"How does that work?" asked Jessie.

"I don't know yet," I admitted. "There has to be some system that works but I don't have it yet. Meanwhile, this is a lot to think about. It's a difficult decision and we all have to be on the same page at the same time. I think we should take time this week to consider all the possibilities. Take time to fantasize about each other's husbands. Take time to imagine your husband with each of us. Look at your emotions and if you can be a peace with them. Imagine the pros, fantasy sex and better sex with your husband, and ferret out the cons, if you can identify them and let's get together next Thursday. Oh, by the way, if anyone wants one, I'd be glad to email you a picture of Drew."

"Nothing pornographic," insisted Cathy. "I'm not interested in the size of Drew's cock. At least not yet," she added.

That got a laugh from everyone and the mood lightened for everyone.

Nobody wanted to play cards so we went home early to think.

The following Thursday afternoon, Giselle and I drove to Cathy's. Jessie was already there. Cathy already had a large pitcher of strawberry margaritas ready for us. We settled in her den in cool and comfortable leather furniture to talk.

"Who wants to start?" asked Cathy.

Jessie raised her hand. "I had a long week," she started. "I processed every emotion I could muster, including the green-eyed monster. I always thought I'd be the jealous type, but when I tried to be jealous I couldn't. I just couldn't. It surprised me. I spent hours wondering how that could be possible. Then I realized that I love all of you. I trust all of you. I know that Scott wouldn't be off carousing with some floozy. That you'd treat him well and send him back to me. To me! You wouldn't be competing with me for Scott. We'd be competing for each other. A week ago I couldn't imagine that's where I'd be but here I am. If there's a way to do this, I'm on board."

I was moved by Jessie's confession. I looked around. Cathy actually had a tear running down her cheek. She wiped it off before anyone else could notice and Giselle was smiling. "I couldn't have said it better myself," I ventured.

"Neither could I," chimed in Cathy.

Giselle put up her hand. "I want you to know that I came here today to put the kibosh on the whole idea. It seemed insane to me. I was angry that we would even consider such a thing. I too had a moment with the green-eyed monster but I didn't seek it out. It just jumped up and took me over. I was furious at the thought of Von having sex with anyone, including you three. I couldn't get past the emotion all week and it interfered with any rational thoughts I might have had. But, listening to Jessie just now, I was moved in my heart and any thoughts of jealousy vanished. I, too, love all of you and I'd trust my life and my husband to you. Thank you Jessie. You're a good friend and I do love you. My thoughts now are more practical. I think we're of the same mind and now I'm wondering how Von, and your husbands, will handle it."

"Thank you all," I said. "And a special thank you to you Giselle for explaining your conflict. I, too, had a difficult week. Even thought it was my proposal, my emotional response was all over the place. I came here having decided I was on board and Jessie organized it all for me. I no longer have doubts. Thank you, Jessie."

The room was silent for a moment. Then Cathy spoke. "Where do we go from here?"

"I've been thinking about that in case we got this far and I have the outline of a plan," I offered.

"We're all ears," said Cathy.

"First, I agree with Giselle," I started. "How will our husbands handle it? It's a difficult problem. I know that they will do whatever we want them to do. It's in their DNA to please us but they don't have to like it. That's a show stopper. If they don't like it, it won't work. In fact, it might go in the opposite direction. I thought about it a lot and I came to the only conclusion, they can't know."

"What?" exclaimed Giselle. "They can't know? How the hell can they get laid and not know? And if they don't know, how can it improve our sex with them. If they can't know, why are we even having this discussion?"

"All valid questions, Giselle," I said calmly. "Let me explain. They can't know what were planning. Not a clue. Not a hint. Not even a knowing smile. Nothing, until we spring it on them. I believe what I said before about pleasing us is in their DNA. They're men and I'm counting on their desire to please us, their wives, extends to other women as well. If they respond like I think men will respond, you better have a firm grip on your panties."

When the laugh subsided, I continued. "I considered all kinds of possibilities. A party where we mix and match and jump each other's bones in the same room to wandering off in pairs to separate bedrooms. Honestly, as much as I adore all of you, I don't want to watch while Drew fucks any of you. I also have no desire to be watched while I entertain any of your husbands. We have to surprise the men and count on their innate response to what we're offering and simultaneous action is required if we're going to surprise the men. The problem is how without being together at the time.

"So, how do we manage it?" asked Cathy.

Another issue is duration," I continued. "Two hours is not enough to properly establish our goal. It's too much like cheating or swapping. So, how long should we plan for and how long is too long? My solution is that when were sharing our husbands we should be as much like wives for them that we can be. That strengthens the relationship and breaks down some of the barriers they may raise. That means a longer encounter and a home like environment. Not a bedroom in someone's house or a hotel room.

"Here's how I think we should proceed," I continued when the muttering among the others quieted. We need to meet them in their own homes, where they're comfortable and unthreatened and it should be a whole weekend. That's the perfect environment to establish a relationship that includes sex not just for sex."

"Damn," said Cathy. "Mike will lose his shit."

"I hope you don't mean that negatively?" I asked.

"No, Mike's all man," explained Cathy. "If one of you moves in with him for the weekend, the first time he sees you in a peignoir or naked, I guarantee you he won't be able to keep his panties on."

The others laughed. "I can relate to that," said Jessie.

"So," I continued, "to insure surprise, I don't think even we should know who we're spending the weekend with until the last moment."

"How do we do that?" asked Cathy.

"A perfect segue," I commented. "Thank you, Cathy. On a Friday we put overnight bags in our cars and after dinner we drive to a common meeting place. There, in a scene straight from the 70's, we put our car keys in a hat and pick one set each out of the hat. If you get your own key, draw another and put yours back. Then we drive the right car back to the right house and walk in the door. That way the right car is in the right driveway for the weekend. That should suffice to keep the nosy neighbors a bay. The rest is up to you."

"They're going to be shocked," commented Cathy. "What if they refuse and try to throw us out?"

"I don't think that's going to happen," I said. "Once again, I'm counting on their male DNA. They won't use force on a woman, especially one who's there to make their fantasy come true. Oh, that brings up another possibility. They might want to confirm the situation with their wife. I don't think we should encourage spousal communication. It could make things difficult until everybody is comfortable with the arrangement. Therefore, give your phone to whoever gets your car keys. That way, if your husband tries to call you, it will ring in your substitute's purse."