I sat on the couch, legs crossed in a proper fashion, my martini glass resting on my knee. What number was that? Three? Four? Hell I couldn't remember. My gaze was set on him, six-four, broad shoulders, brown shaggy hair, a smile that melted you, blue eyes that captivated you and those jeans that he wore a little too tight.
He was definitely the same stud of a man I'd married four years earlier. But on the inside he was nowhere near the same man I'd fallen for. The man who use to gaze into my eyes and see my soul now looked straight through me. The man who brought me flowers on my bad days was replaced with a man who never asked me how my day was. The man that could not keep his hands off of me...he faded into a man who seemed repulsed by the sight of me.
Looking around was our home, our immaculately decorated living room and gourmet kitchen, the dining room made of cherry, big enough to seat eight, although only two people lived there. I wondered when he fell out of love with me? When did I stop being the apple of his eye and all that mushy shit he always claimed. Where did our life go? The home we'd built together had become cold. Where were we?
I'm snapped back to reality by the shrill laughter of the only person who gets me. Her name is Delia, she and her husband had taken quite the liking to my husband and me. Our first 'couple friends' since we got married. I see my husband fist-pumping Jack and am compelled to ask what is going on.
"We are talking about a spouse swap!" Matthew says as he sloshes over to sit next to me, wrapping his arm around me for the first time in weeks. "What'd'ya say? Might be fun to swap for a day!" He says. He seems to be kidding, he seems to be drunk and hell who knows if he is kidding... But why the hell would you ever suggest that?? You just said hey I wanna fuck your best friend. I should just pour my martini down his polo and call it quits.
"Yeah, sure," I say with a sly smile. "But, I'm taking this spouse."
I giggle as I gently lay my free hand on Delia's thigh. It definitely took them by surprise as I laid down my martini, grabbed Delia's hand and took off for the bedroom. The guys' jaws were on the floor and it humored me to see that!
I'd always been attracted to women and my past three relationships before Matthew had been with ladies, but I was against labels, so when Matthew came into the picture I just rolled with it. The feelings never went away, though. Multiple ladies had drawn my attention and a few had come to the bed with Matthew and I. But I felt like a pig, objectifying women like that.
When we met Delia and Jack, though, I was instantly connected with Delia. She was Latina with beautiful, sun kissed skin. Around 5'2, which, compared to my 5'7, put her right at chest level. C cup breasts always revealing enough cleavage to keep you longing but not enough to be trashy. Her hair was beautiful, long, jet black and fell perfectly around her supple breasts just accenting them more.
For such a petite girl she seemed to have the longest legs, probably the way she dressed her self, always so amazingly. We'd had some sexual tension from the beginning.
I'd never made it a secret that I thought she was beautiful and knowingly or not she flirted all the time. Often in the kitchen making drinks my hand would brush up against her soft cheek or across her hand. Many times there were subtle, or not so subtle, hints dropped at how badly I'd love to take her to the bedroom.
Nothing sexual had happened between the two of us, probably out of respect for our pig husbands. However, she'd heard many of my stories and always seemed more than intrigued.
This was our chance, if our husbands wanted a swap then why not?? Delia's hand in my own I stepped into the bedroom and locked the door behind me.
"A-are you serious?" she almost whispered.
