Me My Husband and the Wilsons

My husband Ron and I, age 50, live in a bi level home on a mile- long winding road. On hot summer days we prefer our pool rather than the beach. A couple of times each summer we entertain friends by the pool. That's not to say we don't travel.

A recent Saturday saw us expecting to have our friends the Wilsons at the house around 1 o'clock for a pool party.

They are a couple in their forties, both profesional people.

I'm an RN. Ron works for the communications company, a job that finds him on the road often.

By 7 o'clock I had started making pancakes, a favorite meal. Ron had taken a seat and was sipping a coffee, his first.

Our friends came to mind. "Michael and Cassie are putting an addition on their house."

My husband corrected me. "They're actually rebuilding the whole place."

"I bet it'll be nice."

He agreed with a nod.

At 5' 10 my brown eyes are right at the same level as those of my husband. I often wear loose-fitting sweaters hiding those generous D cup boobs. The ellyptical keeps me fit.

My husband is an avid weightlifter since his teens and it shows. Broad shoullders, thick pecs, biceps the size of baseballs make a spectacular body, not to mention sexy.

We discovered a surprising fact about the Wilsons in the earliest days of the friendship. They're swingers.

I recall Cassie saying that she and Michael had known one another since elementary school. Since age 15 they had been in an exclusive relationship until years out of school. Both eventually became curious. That curiosity gave way to an overpowering urge "to experiment" that made both seek other partners.

They were soon to bring us into the lifestyle. The venue had been a restaurant where the four of us had met for lunch on a Saturday.

I had taken Cassie's remarks that day with a grain of salt until I didn't. She and I left the table ostensibly to answer the call of nature which we did. As we stood at the sinks washing our hands Cassie dropped the bomb.

Swingers? As in partner swapping?

"It's the most fun thing we ever did. Besides, it's just sex."

"OK," I replied.

"You know," she said. "My husband thinks you're HOT."

How could I not take that as a compliment? A part of me did wonder if men still found me attractive.

Reluctant at first, I soon gave myself to her husband who had been flirting with me. The way she looked at my husband sent the message that she was attracted to him. Ron and I agreed that we can take other partners, just not behind each other's back.

That night another man's hands cupped my boobs and his dick penetrated me for the first time in 30 years. Back then I was dating Alan Lafferty.

After our lunch date the four of us headed for a swinger lounge called Apollo & Athena. At 7 30 after a fairly long ride we came inside a saloon bathed in blue light. For a few seconds we scanned the room for an unoccupied table. Finding one, we took seats and engaged in trivial chat.

The deep v-neck bodycon mini dress is a fashion I would've worn even if not planning to seduce men. On a subconscious level I like having guys checkout the cleavage and curves.

All around us, couples were engaged in chit chat and or flirting. Tables they left behind would not remain unoccupied for long.

Ron's eyes shifted downward taking in my boobs.

"Do you like what you see?"

"I don't know," he quipped, "They're obscured."

I giggled at his remark.

Next to us Ron and Cassie joked and laughed. A touch lingered perhaps a second too long on the other's shoulder or leg.

A year had passed since our sexual escapade at Apollo & Athena. We had kept in touch with the Wilson's but had not indulged in swapping. This Saturday in July was to see them excepting an invitation to our home.

A few minutes before 1 I stripped down to my undies: a Sandshell 32 D Maidenform with red Tanga panties. This would be my swimsuit. Meanwhile my actual swimsuit remained in a dresser draw.

My husband put a red speedo on. He left his jeans and teeshirt on the bedroom floor next to my sky-blue capri jeans and Burgundy boatneck.

"I can't wait," I said.

Our previous escapade saw me having multiple orgasms. It saw Michael tonguing me bringing me to a fourth orgasm.

"Was he as good as me?"

"Better," I teased.

I was lying in a poolside chaise louhge when the camera over the front door caught a visitor. I walked through the house to the door meeting my guests at the landing.

"Cassie, Michael, I'm so glad you came."

"It's good to be here. I love your swimsuit."

Was their a hint of sarcasm in her comment? Surely she recognizes a bra and panties.

We dipped into the water at the deep end of the pool. After just a few minutes I surrendered to the urge to indulge in sex with Michael.

On the patio beside the pool ladder Michael's hand lingered perhaps a second too long on my ass. Taking the hint I quipped in a voice barely above a whisper," let's go hide someplace,"

I led him inside and down the six steps to a basement room. There we pulled the futon out. Michael helped me out of my "bathing suit" then settled onto his lap.

Soft moans expressed my delight in bobbing on his lap letting his tool slide in and out. The size Ds jiggled putting a toothy grin on his face.

Soft moans crescendoed into screams, the warning signs of my imminent orgasm. The screams stopped as the muscles relaxed. My mouth stretched into a wide toothy grin as I lay huffing. Michael knew that I was recuperating from a toe curling orgasm

Having recuperated after several seconds, I pulled him down onto me. His torso squashed my boobs as I draped my arms over his shoulders and pulled my knees up. His tool slid slowly in and out.

Our day together came to an end very late in the afternoon as shadows stretched across the lawn. As the Wison's car disappeared from view I turned to my husband in our driveway.

"How was she?"

"Lot's of fun," he replied.