A group of men and women sit around talking candidly about their sex lives.
Hi, I'm Paul, the host of this party. Welcome. Come in. Thanks for stopping by to read my story.
We were all sitting around the big screen, plasma TV watching the Super Bowl one year. I had invited all of my best buddies to watch the game with me. There were 21 of us guys, including me. Our wives and girlfriends were upstairs drinking wine, laughing, talking about kids and complaining about us, no doubt. We could hear the women getting louder, as they drank more.
During half time, instead of watching the recap of the game and the half time show, as a lark, I thought it would be a fun thing for each of us to confess what his personal, sexual peccadillo was. Only, I was shocked by what happened next.
Instead of going around the room with each guy sharing a few intimate details about his sex life and about his wife or girlfriend, it turned into a men's meeting, an open forum with no holds barred and nothing held back on sexual peccadilloes, so much so that we actually turned off the Super Bowl to talk about what we did with our wives or girlfriends behind closed doors. Then, when we weren't even halfway through the group, wondering what we were doing and why it was so quiet, the wives and girlfriends all filed downstairs to join us.
Before it gets too confusing, allow me to introduce you to my friends. Anthony is with Ramona, Bob with Sue, Charlie with Helen, Dave with June, Eddie with Elaine, Frank with Rose, Gary with Cindy, Henry with Barbara, Jim with Samantha, John with Amanda, Larry with Diane, Michael with Yvonne, Nick with Nancy, Peter with Wendy, Randy with Francesca, Roy with Irene, Steve with Linda, Tom with Mary, Vinnie with Kathy, and Wayne with Gloria, and I'm Paul and that's my wife, Paula.
We filled our wives and girlfriends in on what we were talking about, sex, sex, and more sex. Instead of shock, we received titillation and interest from the women. It appeared, after having a few drinks, they were just as interested in talking about sex as we were. Only, we never figured they'd want to participate in our impromptu sexual confessions. Women don't normally talk about sex with men, especially in this large a group. Figuring they'd never confess their sexual secrets, but hoping with the alcohol they've already consumed that they would, coerced and encouraged by their husbands and boyfriends, I asked if any of them wanted to make a sexual confession. I should have known, since she's a swinger, still, I couldn't believe when Cindy started the sexual confessions rolling.
Cindy, Gary's wife, was first to confess with her confession that she loved big, black cocks. She told the group that she's had sex with several black men in the past and is particularly fond of their huge appendages. She takes delight that a black man, more so than a white man, is generally on the same page and can keep up with her sexually.
Then, June, Dave's wife, volunteered to confess her sexual secret. She told the group that she was a lesbian, albeit, bi-sexual. She confessed that her first lesbian experience was with her college roommate in her senior year and continued until she graduated college, all the while dating and having sex with her boyfriend, Dave, who has since become her husband.
"Who's next," I said looking around the room. "Who'd like to make a sexual confession? So far, we've heard from Anthony, Bob, Charlie, Dave, Eddie, Frank, Gary, Henry, Jim, Cindy, and June. It doesn't matter who'd like to go next, man or woman."
"I'll go," said my wife Paula.
An unexpected surprise, I never would have suspected my wife was harboring sexual secrets. Now that she's standing there ready to confess, why wouldn't she have sexual secrets, perhaps from her past. She's an attractive enough woman, 5'7" tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. She's always maintained her figure with diet and exercise. Only, for the life of me, I couldn't imagine what she had to confess. We've always been so open and honest and I always trusted her in knowing that we held no secrets from one another. Okay, there was that time that I was with those twin cheerleaders right after college that I kind of forgot to mention, but that was it.
"I'm Paula. I'm married to Paul, the host of this Super Bowl party turned impromptu sexual confessional. I have a sexual secret to confess," she said obviously nervous but fortified with booze and courageous in her resolve to get whatever it was off her chest. She looked at me and smiled and I smiled back, until my mouth fell open with what she confessed next.
"I had an affair," she said.
Boy that was a bomb. My wife had an affair. When? Where? With who?
"Paula, you don't have to do this," said Ramona, Anthony's wife, and her best friend. "Maybe this isn't the place or the time to confess an extramarital affair. Maybe, you should discuss that in private with your husband first."
