Sauce for the Goose

Well, after that period things settled down for a bit. The next thing worth putting down in this chronicle of naughtiness happened when Trish and I had been living together for nearly a year - it was late autumn as I recall. One evening, she came home from her office positively glowing and purring with self-satisfaction. I asked her what had got her so high, and she explained that she'd been invited out to dinner by a rather dishy bloke at work. She was very pleased by the compliment as all the girls fancied him, and he was a nice (single) bloke. He'd evidently been quite put out when she'd said, "Thanks for the invite, but I don't think my fiancé would approve!"

You see, she didn't wear a ring (we hadn't become formally engaged - in fact we'd never really even thought about it) so he simply hadn't realised that she was unavailable.

I gave this situation a moment's thought. Funny, but I realised I wouldn't be jealous if she did have dinner with someone else. If I didn't object to other blokes groping her, why object to them feeding her? As long as it was only a casual thing, I knew it wouldn't cause a problem; we were so completely into each other that it would have taken a chain saw to separate us.

"Well, d'you want to take him up on it?" I asked. "I don't think I mind, as long as it's just a one-off."

Her jaw dropped. When she recovered from her surprise, she went all thoughtful.

"Well, I really wasn't asking permission, you know - but if you're sure you wouldn't be upset, he's pretty dishy - I mean, do you really trust me that much?"

"Yes. No question." I said that, looked her in the eye steadily, and I really meant it. I was entirely serious.

"Well... OK... If you really do mean it, I think I would rather like to take him up on the invite. He is a nice bloke. But are you really sure you don't mind?"

Mind? I looked at my motives, and realised that the idea of my wife having dinner (and what else, I wondered?) with another man downright turned me on. "No, I don't mind, not as long as I know it's no threat to us," I said. "I mean, I love you, right?"

She smiled the way women always do when they hear those words. She'd heard them from me before many times, but the glow still came on whenever I said them. "Oh, and I love you, too, Dave!" She gave me a long, deep-tongued kiss to prove it. The discussion stopped for a bit while we enjoyed a bit of tongue-twining.

"Right then", I went on when I'd got my breath back, "we both know that, so I don't see that anything either of us does, as long as the other one knows about it, can, well... threaten our relationship. I mean, so long as we aren't trying to, you know, deceive each other.

"Oh, Gawd, that does sound stuffy, doesn't it? But you know what I'm getting at. I mean, is he a decent sort of bloke? No, that's a bloody silly question - he must be, or you wouldn't fancy him."

I realised that I was gabbling a bit - the situation was really exciting me!

"Yeah", she said, "Norman's really nice. If I wasn't already involved with you, I'd certainly take him up on the offer. But, Dave, are you really sure? I mean, you do know that nothing will ever take me away from you, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course I do - I suppose that's why I don't mind. In fact, knowing you and what you've told me about how you used to carry on before you met me, I'd guess that if I wasn't here and he wined and dined you well, you'd probably have been quite willing to shag him afterwards, wouldn't you?"

"Er... well, it wouldn't be the first time I screwed a bloke on the first date, if he fed me well and I fancied him enough. But just a minute, Dave, I'm not suggesting that - I mean, Norman has only invited me for a meal, after all!"

"No, I know you're not suggesting it", I said, "but I am! If he's invited you out, you can bet he's at least fantasised that things might go further. He'd either be queer, or really seriously weird if he hadn't! Go on, you go out for dinner with him if you want to. And if you like the dinner and you like him, I hereby formally declare that you have my full permission to shag his arse off afterwards. Just make it clear to him that it's a one-off.... And promise me you'll tell me all the gory details afterwards, come to think of it!

"Shit, Trish - let's be honest. The idea of you having it off with another bloke, with my knowledge, really turns me on. Go on, go ahead. Do it. Unless he screws up the evening, fuck him stupid."

"Oh, Dave! You really do trust me, don't you?" she said, with a tear in her eye.

I nodded - what else could I do? I meant it!

"Well, alright", she said, "yeah, maybe I'll do just that. I mean, if it feels right, of course. I guess the idea turns me on too, as long as you're sure you really don't mind.

"OK, now I'll get all formal too. I hereby promise faithfully that I'll be back with you later the same night, and I'll certainly tell you all the gory details if you want - well, if there are any, of course!"

'If there are any', indeed, I thought - I knew Trish quite well enough by now to work out from her words that she fancied this bloke something rotten, and I was bloody certain she'd end up in bed (or somewhere) with him now I'd given official permission!

Well, the next day she dropped the hint to Norman that she might be available if the offer was still good. Of course, he didn't realise that I knew about the whole thing and had agreed - she let him think for the time being that he was getting a bit of forbidden fruit. So they made a date, and the next Friday night they went out for dinner. She told him that I thought she was working late with him. They had a very nice meal (as she told me later), and she made it subtly obvious that she wasn't necessarily intending to go straight back home to me, if Norman had other ideas.

And of course he had, just like any man would. And anyway he wasn't daft enough to turn down a tasty lady who was giving him the come-on, so they went back to his place - he'd arranged things for a night when his wife was away, of course, just in case. I gather they both enjoyed themselves thoroughly in doing what comes naturally, and Norman drove her back to our house later. But when Trish invited him to come in for a coffee with her - and me - he was just a tad nervous, understandably. She persisted, pointing out now that I'd known she was with him even if I did (supposedly) think they were working together, and I'd be surprised if she didn't invite him in for a coffee, at least, after he'd given her a lift home.

I really did appreciate Trish's having invited him in - my only real reservation about agreeing to her going out with him had been a wonder about whether I'd like the man. In fact, Norman and I found that we got on very well. The three of us chatted together inconsequentially for a few minutes over a cup of coffee, and I got enough from Trish's body language to be sure that they'd done what I expected.

So I dropped the bombshell.

"Well, Norman, what d'you think of Trish, then? Quite an energetic lady, isn't she?"

"Er, yes. She works very hard." He looked a bit puzzled, and slightly worried. "Er - very hard. It was very good of you to let her stay late to help me finish the job".

I caught Trish's eye and grinned at him. "Oh, come on, Norman. I know exactly what job you finished - and judging by the smile on her face, you made a bloody good job of it, too! She's quite a lively little tart, isn't she?"

Norman looked suitably gob-smacked.

"Er... what are you suggesting, Dave?"

"Norman, I know you've been out to dinner, not working late. And judging by the satisfied look on Trish's face, I imagine you got into her knickers afterwards and gave her a good seeing-to."

He looked downright scared. Well, I am a biggish bloke; I guess he was a bit worried about my reaction. I let him sweat for a moment, then took him off the hook.

"It's OK, mate - we talked this over before she agreed to go out with you, and I don't mind. Really - she had my full permission to fuck the arse off you this evening if she wanted to, and from the look on your face she did just that!"

"Er... Dave, d'you really mean that?"

"Yeah. Look, don't get me wrong - she's not going to make a regular habit of it, there's nothing amiss with our relationship - but you're a nice enough bloke, Trish fancied a bit with you, and I don't mind that she did.

"Now, Trish, give him a goodnight kiss and let the poor man go home - I think he's a bit boggled!"

Trish happily and enthusiastically complied, pulling Norman down into a good, long deep kiss and giving his bum a quick squeeze as she did so, then she shushed him out of the door to go back to his own place.

As soon as he was gone, I started to tear Trish's clothes off and practically dragged her bodily up to bed! She was as good as her word, and gave me a blow-by-blow description of who'd done what and with which and to whom, which turned me on even more - and gave me a couple of ideas, as she made it clear in her telling which bits she'd particularly enjoyed. We had a cracking good night, and she was walking positively bow-legged when she left for work the next morning!

Still, we agreed that we wouldn't do anything else like this for a while, until enough time had passed for us both to be sure that neither of us had any second thoughts. So for a few weeks we kept ourselves to ourselves, as you might say. But we didn't try to forget what had happened with her and Norman - we used chat about her "adventure" as a way to spice things up between us from time to time.

Then, when we still hadn't found any reason to have second thoughts about her little fling, Trish saw one of the tastier secretaries from my office giving me the eye at a party. And I suppose I was returning the favour to some degree - I must have, if Trish noticed.

"D'you fancy her, then, Dave? It is your turn, you know, if you want!" she said.

I must admit that I did rather go for this Angela, although she was perhaps a bit on the heavy-boobed side for my taste. But there's more to a woman than her tits!

Trish stuck to the subject. "What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander and all that - why don't you ask her for a date? I've been watching her eyes on you for these past twenty minutes or so, and if she hasn't got the hots for you I'm no judge of another woman's feelings. And I don't think you're entirely immune to her charms, either!"

We went through almost an exact replay in reverse of the conversation that we'd had a couple of months ago when I'd agreed to let her go out with Norman, as I reassured her that it would only be a casual thing, and she insisted she didn't mind. So, a couple of days later, I took Angela out for a meal; and when one thing led to another I took her back home to our place - Trish had agreed to hide in the spare room when we came in, so Angela wouldn't realise she was there. Angela was an amenable and pleasant bed partner, if not a spectacularly inspired one, and we both enjoyed ourselves very well, thank-you. Not earth-shaking, but good fun nevertheless.

But you should have seen the look on her face when I took her downstairs afterwards, to drive her home. Trish was sitting there in the lounge as we came down, having a coffee and watching an old silent French film on the telly. Angela had thought she was away for the night, and she nearly wet herself when she realised that the cat might be out of the bag!

Trish took less time to come to the point than I had with Norman.

"Did you two enjoy yourselves?" she asked, with a friendly smile. "He's not a bad shag, is he, luv?"

Angela was, to say the least, a bit taken aback. "You mean... you've been here? All the time? You knew that I was, er, upstairs with him? And you let him?" she exclaimed.

Trish smiled and nodded.

"Oh, my Gawd - I'd have chopped his pecker off!" Angela exclaimed.

"Oh, no, dear, we have this agreement", Trish replied. "You might say I don't mind Dave going out for lunch as long as he comes home for dinner - and he feels the same, don't you, Dave?"

I smiled and nodded. Nice phrase for it, in fact, I thought.

"The funny thing is", she went on, "we'd neither of us ever be unfaithful to the other - we just don't see that a quick lusty screw is anything more than it would be if one of us was to have a lunchtime drink with someone else."

Angela looked a bit puzzled. "Ooh-err! I don't think I can handle that - and if you don't mind me saying so, Dave, I don't think I want to try, either! Er, well, thanks very much for the evening - and, er, well, everything, Dave, I guess - but I don't think we'll do it again. This is just - well, er, too far out for me. Er, look, would you get me a taxi, please?" Funny, isn't it - she'd been quite willing to go to bed with me when she thought I was cheating on my bird, but she couldn't handle the idea that Trish knew and didn't mind! Well, I rang for the taxi and packed her off home, then sat down with Trish to have a good snog - and other things - on the sofa, while I told her what Angela and I had got up to.

So that set the scene for us for a while - we started making quite a habit, maybe once every month or two, of one or other of us getting "a bit on the side"; but always with the knowledge and permission of the other.

Interestingly enough, as time and a couple of other blokes (and girls) went by, we found that other men didn't generally seem to be able to give Trish a climax, although she thoroughly enjoyed trying and was always willing to give it a go, as you might say.

In fact, it wasn't until she happened to mention this that I found out what I told you a chapter or two back, that I'd been the first person apart from herself who had made her come. I can't say this upset me too much!

On the other hand, I had no trouble at all coming with other women, as you might expect. Still, Trish genuinely and honestly didn't seem to mind that. I think her own inability to come with other men gave her a sort of feeling of security - in a way it was a guarantee that she wasn't really cheating me, if nobody but me could finish her off properly. And of course, being a normal man, I certainly wasn't averse to bedding another woman - but it really did make all the difference that my own lady knew and didn't mind.

So over time and a few more "close encounters", we worked out a set of rules:

Rule One was that normally, neither of us would get involved with someone else unless the other one had first had a chance to meet and approve of them. I think that's the basic principle that made the whole thing work - and still does, for that matter. If you know and like someone who goes to bed with your partner, and you know it doesn't affect the way you both feel, then there's simply no threat to your relationship. You can prove that the plural of "spouse" is "spice" with no hang-ups. Sorry for the philosophy, but that's really how we feel!

Rule Two was that, in what you might call "extenuating circumstances", (like a business conference or some such, where the other one of us wasn't easily available to give approval), then an unintroduced bod was OK for a quick one-night fling. But no repeat was on until they'd met the other partner and been "approved", and we tried to at least make a quick phone call first to let the other one know we'd found a partner.

Obviously, that meant that neither of us would be likely to try it on in the first place with someone that the other one mightn't like - but then we wouldn't anyway. In fact, we soon found that our taste in people was similar enough that we didn't tend to fancy someone the other one might think "unsuitable".

In due course, Norman became what you might call a "regular occasional" date for Trish. I'd guess she probably had it off with him three or four times a year for the next two or three years, until house moves and job changes caused us to lose touch with each other.

I gathered from hints that she picked up in casual chat that his wife was a bit unimaginative, both in bed and in other ways. He'd been vaguely thinking of having an affair, or conceivably even leaving her, anyway - so Trish and I may even have helped his marriage a bit, for all I know.

Once or twice I even joined in with Trish and Norman. Three in a bed is great fun, even when it's two blokes and one bird, as long as you're not the type that curls up in a ball in horror at the very thought of accidentally touching another bloke while you're both attending to the pleasures of the same woman. In my wallet, I still have a much-treasured close-up Polaroid of my lady's pussy being filled by a thick and willing prick - and it was me taking the picture!

And on another occasion, when Trish was really wild, wet and willing, Norman and I managed to get both our pricks into her pussy at once. She'd sat down on Norman's tool, facing him, and when she leant forward to kiss him I could see there was an opportunity to join him, so to speak, by taking her from behind; and she was wet enough for it to work. Rather a weird feeling at first, but Trish certainly seemed to enjoy it. So did Norman and I, for that matter!

Norman never told his wife about us, and that was Rule Three - Trish and I choose to have absolute openness with each other about our extra-marital relationships, but as we'd realised with Angela, our rules didn't suit everyone. Other people we might get involved with have their own conventions with their own regular partners, and we don't feel it's up to us to interfere or comment.

But I never tried it on with Angela again - Rule Four, we decided, was that other people who joined in with us had to be willing to accept us on our own terms, even if they didn't want to run their own lives the same way.

And talking of the quick telephone call to confirm things - once while Trish was away, she rang me at our pre-arranged time (breathing rather heavily) to say that she'd met this really gorgeous bloke that she fancied. But she wasn't calling to ask permission - she hadn't been able to wait, and he was banging her right there and then as she spoke to me! The feller evidently got well turned on by knowing she was giving her hubby a blow-by-blow description of what she was doing, and I must admit the whole thing turned me on so much that I ended up wanking myself off as I listened to her running commentary.

- o -

Amongst all this, we still kept in touch (in more ways than one) with George and Claire, and occasionally met them at parties - but as far as I know, they didn't "swing", once we'd settled down as two couples, except occasionally with me and Trish. I remember one really brilliant evening, starting with a slightly drunken Trish doing a surprisingly accomplished striptease for the other three of us in our lounge, that ended with all four of us in a four-way orgy. That was really fun, and the first time I ever saw two women doing the lesbian bit. I hadn't realised just what good friends Trish and Claire were! Time went by, and eventually Trish decided to make an honest man of me, so to speak. (Well, actually, it was me who proposed - but there was never much chance of her refusing!)

We decided to have quite a formal wedding, although neither of us wanted a church ceremony. Well, it would have felt a bit hypocritical to put Trish in virginal white when she'd probably shagged near on fifty percent of the male guests at one time or another, as well as one or two of the birds; and I was hardly any more innocent!

Still, we did want a big bash of a reception. We intended to make sure it went with a bang, literally; George was my best man, Claire was chief bridesmaid and both girls had agreed in advance that they'd wear nothing under their wedding dresses, neither during the ceremony nor at the subsequent reception party.