The night began with a great deal of promise.
My wife and I sat in the busy Applebee's on an early summer Saturday evening. The excitement we felt was unspoken; in fact, we barely talked at all. Nonverbals, smiles and winks, were more frequent than words. Our anticipation increased by the second. A very attractive couple in their thirties, just a few years our elders, were on their way to meet us. If we all hit it off, there was a nice hotel room and some very hot sex in our immediate future. We glanced at the door almost continuously, looking for, if the pictures were real, a tall, leggy brunette with ample bosom; and a tan, athletic male who was very well endowed. Succinctly, our dream couple.
We'd met one other couple since we decided to experiment with swinging. They were friendly, well spoken people. Each of the three times we'd gone to their place, the sex was more than satisfying. But they were of average appearance. We had no complaints with their looks, but the pictures we'd received from the man and woman we were to meet tonight were stunning. We were practically salivating as we imagined what they'd look like in person.
"Steve? Gail?" A tall, ruggedly handsome man stopped at our table. His use of the names we used when we were corresponding with potential partners surprised both of us.
"I'm Tony. Nice to meet you two."
I was pissed. When we placed our ad in the local swinger newsletter, we'd been inundated with notes and pictures from single men. Though we'd included the phrase "no single men" in the ad, it was totally ignored. This guy intentionally misled us. He'd misrepresented himself, and I was ready to leave before he'd even sat down.
"I'm sorry Paula couldn't make it. She had a headache so she stayed home tonight. I thought maybe the three of us could get to know each other and she could meet us next time."
The guy was a smooth operator. His voice was confident, and he flashed us an easy, winning smile that used car salesmen work on achieving on for their entire careers. He sat down in the chair and picked up a menu. "So, was the traffic bad? That drive can be tough on a Saturday with all the weekend sportsmen clogging that highway. They've been talking about making it a four lane for years."
My wife was obviously pleased with the man's appearance. And his powerful presence almost put me at ease. He made sure that he drew me into the conversation, despite my instant dislike for him.
When the waitress asked us for our food order, I saw my opportunity to change the subject. "Actually, we were just here for drinks. My wife and I are going to catch a movie and we need to get going."
My wife kicked me under the table. She met my eyes and shook her head subtly.
After the waitress left, Tony turned on the persuasion. "I thought maybe we could find some quiet place that the three of us could talk."
"I would love that," I insisted, "when Paula can join us."
"I understand," he said. "You were expecting both of us, and this was a unpleasant surprise." Empathy dripped from each word.
"We could go somewhere...Steve. Just to talk," my wife interjected. The emphasis on my name was her attempt to persuade me, but I couldn't get past the fact that he had very probably lied. He had never told his girlfriend, I suspected. And he never planned to.
Tony shook my hand. "I totally understand." He leaned over and kissed my wife on the cheek. "We'll get together again, soon, when Paula is feeling better. Okay?" He flashed the killer smile and winked.
"Okay." He didn't seem like such a bad guy. But I was hacked off about his probable deception and didn't give in.
"Paula is going to be sorry she missed such a great pair." He was looking at my wife's C cup breasts beneath her tight summer sweater. "A really nice pair of people," he added. My wife blushed and laughed. My expression was more of a grimace. The phrase "smooth operator" came to mind for the second time in less than five minutes.
On the way home we decided to call Gene and Liz, the couple we'd swapped with before, from a pay phone. It turned out they had a couple over there already and invited us to join the fun. Like Gene and Liz, the new couple weren't unattractive. But they weren't hot, either. We stayed until the well into the morning and left satisfied, despite the fact we'd anticipated a much different evening.
A few uneventful weeks passed. The fall semester began and I was hip deep in the grunt work of a graduate assistant. My wife went to work as normal. We were too busy to see Gene and Liz because some of my responsibilities took up entire weekends. Several weekends took me out of town. We got a few more letters and pics when the next issue of the swinger newsletter came out, but nothing looked interesting.
Because we were on a tight budget, I walked back to the apartment from the university every day to eat lunch. It was about a mile and was a pleasant walk. On one temperate, blue skied September weekday, I was sitting on the porch of our married student housing block with a plate of sandwich crumbs on my knee. The sound of the phone ringing interrupted the too-few quiet minutes of my day.
I answered, expecting a friend's call regarding a study group that night.
"James?" An unfamiliar voice was on the other end of the line.
"Yes?"
"This is Tony. We met at Applebee's a few weeks ago? We had corresponded about meeting sometime."
"Oh, yes. Hi, Tony." I was puzzled. He shouldn't have known my real first name. But then again, he shouldn't have known my phone number, either. "How's Paula?" I put a touch of sarcastic tone on the last part.
"Bad news about Paula. She left me not too long after the three of us met. She was concerned about the road we, I, was going down. She was rather upset that I'd gone through with the meeting with you two. That was the beginning of the end, really."
"Oh." I hadn't expected that sort of response. It sounded almost candid. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. I really am."
"No worries, James. Something better has come along."
"Well, good for you, then." Maybe he'd found a woman that agreed to meet us. Hopefully, she was as attractive as Paula.
"Are you alone, James?" Tony asked.
"Yes, why?"
"You might want to sit down."
I didn't reply. Something very peculiar was going on.
"James," his tone was lower and a bit growly. "Your wife, Janie, is the best fuck I've ever had."
The tiny apartment spun around me. My knees weakened; my stomach lurched.
Tony chuckled. "Her titties are delicious, James. I love to suck on those big pink nipples. I like how tall those nipples get when she gets all excited. And let me tell you, James... She's been all excited a lot lately."
I pulled a nearby chair close to the phone and sat down. I thought I was going to vomit.
"And that little pink pussy of hers, James? With that wavy blonde hair down there? She loves it when I get down there and eat her out. Her legs get so tight around my head. And the way she quivers when I'm about to make her cum is so damn cute. You know?"
He was describing Janie perfectly. I realized I was trembling a bit.
"And speaking of little pink pussies, James, I have fucked the hell out of hers. I'm the biggest cock she's ever had, my man. When I stick my long thick shaft up in that little pussy of hers, she squeals like a little girl. She's a little bitty thing, James. She had a little trouble taking me up in there. But we solved that. I kept fucking the shit out of her until it fits just fine now. You haven't noticed her being a little loose at home, have you?"
He chuckled. His voice sounded distant, and the tone seemed distorted.
"The first couple of times I fucked her, she made me wear a condom, James. But I put an end to that. I wanted to feel every bit of her hotness. She is one gorgeous woman, buddy. You are a lucky man. And now I am, too. Think of it as sharing the wealth."
"Now I fill that cunt up two or three times every time we get together. I send her home full, James. Have you noticed a difference in her taste? Her smell? I tell her not to wash when she gets home. I like the thought of you getting sloppy seconds, James. And you know what?"
He paused.
"She does, too."
I felt my face flush. I could feel the heat radiating off my cheeks.
"You're being awfully quiet, James. What are you thinking about?"
I didn't answer. I wouldn't have known what to say. My mind was racing.
"Tell me something, James. Are you hard?"
My cock was stiff as a board.
"Do you have a woodie, James?"
His voice grew louder. "Answer me, James," he said in an authoritative tone.
I tried to answer but I coughed instead.
"What was that? What did you say, James?"
"Yes," I breathed. "I said, yes."
