This is the first of a series of true stories detailing how I turned my wife from her rigidly moralistic background to a woman who became one-half of a swinging couple who enjoyed sex as much as anyone ever has. It explains how I slowly managed to convert her from the straight-laced lovely I married to a woman who could trip a man and beat him to the floor. It’s also a love story. I could never love anyone more.
1. Beginnings: Mike had been fucking my wife for over 6 years before I wrote this.
The first time it happened, I thought it was just a fluke, but I certainly hoped that wasn't the case. I had been assuring Linda for so long that I didn't mind that she and Mike were obviously attracted to each other and encouraged her to let it continue. So, it was with a little surprise, but a great deal of satisfaction that I heard her say the words I wanted to hear so badly.
"Mike came over today," she said, almost challengingly. She was watching my face for a reaction.
"And.....?" I replied, starting to shed my clothes as I headed for the bedroom.
"And he kissed me," she said defensively.
I turned, taking off my shirt and said, "Well, that's nothing. He's done that before, hasn't he," knowing full well the answer. I had seen Mike kiss my wife several times as they danced at the local lodge. Who wouldn’t want to do the same? He had just been the first to be so blatant about it, knowing I was watching without obvious disapproval.
At the ripe old age of 31, she still had most of the shape I had admired since our high-school days when, on a dare, I had taken her out the first time. Very much a loner previously, I had admired her from afar, but never had the nerve to ask her out. She had many boys my age around her, but didn’t appear to pay any more attention to them than she did me. Four years later, we married. The 38D cups that covered her lovely breasts had, after two children, swollen to 42DD. Her waist had thickened from seventeen inches to the current 24, and her hips now measured what her bust had when we were first married, but she was still a walking wet dream. I knew it, and so did every man with whom she came in contact. Soft brown hair worn in a page-boy framed a face lovelier than anyone. Mischievous hazel eyes lit with joy when she was excited. That was when I realized that, after twelve years of marriage, she was becoming aroused by another man. What I couldn’t believe was why that turned me on as it had and why I was doing nothing to discourage her, in fact I was welcoming the attentions Mike displayed to her. I realized she did too.
"It went a little further than that," she announced, still watching for my reaction.
"We were sitting on the couch, talking, and he kissed me several times. Then he touched my breasts."
I was still smiling as I took off my work boots and started on my trousers.
"Well, I would have expected that. After all, he's no dummy. I think he feels the same way about you that you do about him, so obviously he would be attracted to you." I had probably let the air out of her sails by saying that. She had expected me, I think to start back peddling on the pronouncement that I had made after the last time we had been out dancing with Mike and his wife. That little chat in the car had led her to admit that she was attracted to him after I had asked her directly. When she said she was, I told her that she should let whatever was going to happen, happen. We were still talking about it that night as we fell into bed. I made sure that I gave her a good hug and kiss before muttering a response to her question about how far she should let it go. It was a question we had debated endlessly before from the time I had first told her I was interested in the swinging lifestyle that had become so prevalent.
She had laughed at first, then "poo-pooed" the idea, asking me if I would be willing to have another man make love to her. I didn't realize that it was a loaded question then. I do now. When I told her I would, she became angry, telling me that I didn't love her, etc. She was rigid when I took her into my arms and kissed her, telling her that I very much loved her and wanted nothing more than for her to be happy, but I also wasn't worried about another man taking her away from me. I thought our love would be enough to withstand anything anyone else could tempt us with. She would always be mine.
It had pacified her for a while, but I could tell she still wasn't in love with the idea, nor did she know just how far I was willing to go with it. I didn't help her out. I knew the attraction to Mike was there. It had been, right from the start. I had seen the lechery in his eyes when he first saw Linda, and I had seen her responding to him in "non-sexual" ways that led a man on. The relationship grew. I was hoping it would flourish.
"He'll be back, you know," were her final words to me before we went to sleep that night.
He was, in less than a week.
I had not felt well when I came home that day and so I retired early, pleading a headache. Linda sat up and read, as she often did. It was almost nine when I heard the doorbell ring in my groggy, medicated mind. I heard voices, but I couldn't make out the words. Thinking that it might be someone from work and pertaining to my job, I got up. I was at the door to the bedroom and had opened it softly before I realized that the male voice was Mike's. Curious, The lights in the bedroom still off, I stood there, straining to hear every word, but it obviously wasn't a conversation intended for me. Only when he stood in a certain position could I hear anything intelligible, and then only a few words of the sentence.
Then I heard Linda laugh softly and knew that something was going on that I wanted to know about. Getting a small shaving mirror from the bathroom, I put it in the dark hallway, taking a chance on being observed as I leaned it against the wall. Fortunately, I wasn't. I went back into the bedroom and stood at the door, staring through the crack between the door and the facing, into the mirror. The mirror placement was almost perfect. If there had been just a little less hallway, I could have seen them both. As it was, I had just a partial view of Mike sitting on the couch next to my wife. He seemed very relaxed, smiling and nodding as he usually did, one arm out of sight at shoulder height, leading me to believe that it was around Linda.
At first nothing happened. I was seriously considering shutting the door and going back to bed when I saw him lean toward the arm that was out of sight. Most of his body was out of my line of sight. It stayed that way for a long time, then it happened again. This time I saw his other arm disappear out of sight.
I felt my cock swelling. I suspected I knew where that hand was going. It took almost thirty minutes for my suspicions to be confirmed. Linda came into view, the top of her gown spread widely apart. She sat down in Mike's lap, facing him, straddling his body. I could see both his hands now. They were clasping her buttocks, one on each side, gently squeezing them. Linda had leaned forward and was kissing him.
I had known from the start that Mike was a butt man. Almost from the first, as soon as he and my wife had began dancing together at the club, it seemed his hands were constantly near her warm ass, stroking, fondling it, much as I would have been with her breasts. What was even more appealing was that he knew I had seen him doing it. He had given me a few appraising or questioning looks during such occasions. I had always returned them with a smile and a slight nod. Although I hadn't gotten anywhere with his wife, he was obviously doing quite well with mine. I didn't mind that a bit. Neither did his wife, Tanya.
She certainly wasn't blind, and obviously had become inured to her husband's little peccadilloes. Tonight was a little different though. Mike was uncharacteristically quiet. As I watched, I could see that Linda's head was at least eight inches above his. I could barely see his hair over her shoulder. That told me that he had found those delightful breasts of hers just as interesting as her ass. Linda's arms were spread, and her forearms in front of her. She was obviously holding one or both of them up for his admiration and approval. I heard a little sigh of contentment as her head came back and she leaned closer to him. His hands, still on her ass, were tugging her gown higher and higher, edging closer and closer to a full view of her creamy butt cheeks. Both her arms dropped and one of his hands disappeared from sight between them. Linda murmured something and raised herself slightly. I saw that she had unzipped his trousers and pushed them down slightly. Mike's nuts were prominently displayed between the fabric of his trousers, already below his crotch, and the cheeks of my wife's ass.
At first they remained like that, rocking back and forth slightly, occasionally exchanging kisses. Each kiss lasted a little longer and so did the movement of Mike's hands over my wife's body. Finally I saw her shake her head slightly and raise herself. Mike reached between them, while slowly snaking his trousers lower. I saw his thumb disappear in the vee between her legs and his balls. Linda gasped slightly and then I saw her lean forward and kiss him again. It lasted longer than ever before, and then she stood up, letting her gown fall back into place.
When Mike got up, my curiosity got the better of me. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the hall. I got there just in time to see Mike, with both his hands inside Linda's gown, kiss her and slide his hands down to cup her ass once more. Linda closed and locked the door behind him as I scurried back to the bedroom, retrieving my mirror as I went.
I had barely gotten back to bed before she turned out the light in the living room and I heard her steps coming down the hallway. I had recovered to a semi rigid state by the time she finished her nightly ablutions and joined me in bed. Her arm accidentally touched me as she pulled the covers up. I feigned a sleepy question.
"Was that Mike?" and listened for her reply.
"Yes," she answered shortly.
"Good," I murmured, before pretending to go back to sleep.
I said nothing about the late night visit that had lasted more than three hours the next morning. Linda had nothing to say either. I spent the day with difficulty, wondering what she would tell me when I got home that evening.
I literally had to pry it out of her as we sat eating supper that night.
"I thought I heard Mike last night. Was he over?"
She nodded. "What did he want?" I asked as innocently as possible.
"He said he wanted to talk to you about this weekend," she responded, eyeing her succotash, "and that he would call you later."
"Did he have anything else to say?" I asked. Her reply was just a shake of her head before she added "No, we just talked for a while, then he went home."
