Only a handful of times in one's life does a wild, impulsive gambit actually work out as you'd hoped it would. The most memorable such success, and the most recent, could be categorized under the subheading of
Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained
, and the main heading of
Sexual Experiences.
It might be helpful in understanding how this came about if I explain a few things about my sexual fantasies. About six months ago, I was laying in bed, watching one of my many adult videos. When I first started watching, then collecting, sex tapes quite a few years back, I would rent one or two from my neighborhood video store (the adult videos were always hidden in a back room, where the kiddies couldn't glimpse the often graphic and provocative covers on display). Essentially, all that was available back then was the commercial production variety, starring
up and coming
actors and actresses doing their thing with scripted dialogue and action, and pulsating background music. I had two VCR's, so I got in the habit of copying each tape I brought home, and began my own library of porno movies.
The professionally produced videos were certainly stimulating, but the affected sexual responses were often distracting, reminding me that these were only actors, and not
real people
having sex. And the music added to the lack of realism. Over time, a new genre of sex tapes came into great popularity: home movies. These were produced, directed and starred in by people no different than your neighbors. Granted, the quality of picture and sound was accordingly lacking, but there was no doubt that it was
the real thing.
A number of porn entrepreneurs sprung into existence, soliciting John and Jane Q. Public to make their own tapes and submit them for inclusion in commercially available videos. Before long, the selection of so-called amateur videos on the shelves nearly outnumbered the professional ones. I couldn't have been happier.
Every time my hormones told me to put a tape in the machine, I would invariably select one of the homegrown variety. And, like anything else, even among these there were ones that I preferred to watch. I wasn't particularly hung up on oral sex or straight intercourse or any other kind, as long as it was heterosexual. I found myself being drawn mostly to the tapes of threesomes, or twosomes with a third party watching. The most exciting ones for me were the situations where a couple, ostensibly husband and wife, were joined by another man. This third person, often portrayed as a neighbor or friend of the husband, would fuck the daylights out of the wife while the husband either joined in or watched the action from nearby. Of course there was no way to tell for sure if the participants were, in fact, husband and wife and friend, but the mere depiction of that scenario put lead in my pencil.
I know I'm not alone when I fantasize about my wife getting fucked by another man. Watching her coming unglued as the man does her every way to Sunday, is a perverse but terribly exciting fantasy. Looking at some of the publications available in adult stores, the ones that contain letters from readers, supports my belief that many men share this fantasy. For me, I'd rather watch this kind of grouping than ones where there are two women with one man. While there's nothing wrong with that, it's just a matter of personal priority preference. I was of the opinion, from reading other peoples' views on the subject, including those of women, the greatest stumbling block to making the fantasy a reality was the insecurity it fostered in the men and the inhibitions of the women.
Most men, I believe, who fantasize about other men with their wife, would be reluctant to play out the fantasy for fear of becoming jealous, or worse, having their wife or girlfriend develop a thing for the outsider. Very threatening for the man. As for women, I think most thoroughly enjoy doing the nastiest of deeds, as long as it's in private and with their husbands or boyfriends. Women who write in admit to having fantasies about being ravaged by a faceless stranger. This tells me two things: They
do
think about sex with men other than their significant others, but they conjure up the image of a stranger who will love them anonymously. Variety is truly the spice of life, even with women.
My wife is a very sexy woman, but mostly only I see that side of her. I have no doubt that she'd probably love to have the shit fucked out of her by a faceless stranger who represented no threat to her privacy, and her marriage. Although I have never followed through on it, as yet, I've often thought about hiring a magnificent young stud to service her as a birthday present. After she got over her initial inhibitions, he'd do his thing and she'd do hers, and they'd never see one another again. My wife would get her bell rung and I wouldn't feel threatened. Hell, she might enjoy it so much that it might become an annual event.
It is within this premise that I came up with a crazy plan. Since I have often been unfaithful to my wife (she has never known this), it wasn't a far stretch of credibility for me to devise a plan that involved me getting laid. I spent over an hour writing and rewriting a one-paragraph ad for one of the more popular swingers' rags that came out once a month. I then went to a post office across town and rented my own box. Once the P.O. box had been secured, I addressed the envelope, enclosed my ad, and mailed it. The ad, which was accompanied by my new mailing address, said the following:
Attractive SWM will fuck your wife/girlfriend while you watch or join in. Age, race not important. I'm 35, clean and safe, and very discreet. Live your fantasy without risk. Anonymity/satisfaction guaranteed.
I had to wait an agonizing three weeks until the new issue came out and my first letter arrived in my box. It was from a man who must have read my mind. He wanted to give his wife an unusual birthday gift: me. He described her as Hispanic, full-figured and very horny. Her name was Gloria and she was twenty-three. The husband stressed the fact that he was straight, and hoped I was as well. The man, Paul, provided a phone number for me to talk with him directly so the arrangements could be worked out. He added a postscript that said he hadn't told his wife yet, but he would before I called. He was sure she'd be excited about it.
I called two days later and spoke with Paul. He had barely a trace of an accent, and he sounded reasonably intelligent. He volunteered that he worked for the school district, as did his wife, but didn't want me to know their last name. Which was fine with me, since I didn't use my right name, instead having mail addressed to
Occupant
. I planned to use my correct first name, just so there was no confusion in the heat of the moment. Paul said he had told Gloria about the surprise the night before, and she was very enthusiastic about it but a little nervous. Paul had decided to rent a motel room for the occasion, just to maintain the anonymity. We agreed on the upcoming Saturday night at eight o'clock at a motel near the interstate. He asked me to call him at the same number about four that afternoon and he'd tell me the room number.
I made up an excuse to tell my wife why I'd be away most of the evening on Saturday. She had no problem with it. With three days to go, I was getting antsy.
I called Paul Saturday afternoon and he gave me the room number, which was on the ground floor facing the pool. I pulled into the parking lot at 7:55 and had no trouble finding the room. Paul answered my knock wearing a bathrobe. I figured he was planning on participating in some fashion. He was in his mid-twenties, short and stocky, with styled hair. Gloria was sitting on the edge of the bed, also wearing a robe. She appeared to be fairly short, maybe 130 pounds, with long dark brown hair and large brown eyes. She was quite attractive, although a tad plump. I shook hands with Paul, then walked over and shook Gloria's hand, which was warm and damp with perspiration. Her accent was a little more pronounced than Paul's, but still barely noticeable.
