March had come like a lion and it was receding like the lamb it was supposed to be. The sun had finally eaten its way through the gray snow clouds and left only an azure sky with pretty puffs of cotton ball cumulous clouds. Here and there, were signs of spring bursting forth. The grass of the lawns I passed were showing signs of green. Soon it would be time to discard even the light coat and enjoy the buds bursting forth on the trees and plants as the days grew longer and warmer.
All around me were the signs of spring, the beauty of a new beginning. The country road on the way home was dotted by potholes caused by the winter melting into spring. Some of them deep enough to be used as bomb shelters! I kept the windows rolled up tight against the cool temperatures. I saw the tractors towing their multi-ganged plows behind them, dredging up fresh black earth as they turned the fertile soil, the moist earth throwing no clouds of dust. I was glad that my windows were rolled tight because I knew that outside those windows the smell of the fresh manure would sting my nose.
I passed the huge new house where Ron and Diane lived and memories came flooding back. My life had changed in that house. Now I had only to decide if it had changed for the better or the worse.
I could almost feel the bite of the merciless wind that had driven the powdery snow in drifts across the road and forced us to stop here that December day. I remembered the shock that had struck my wife, Cindy, and I as we discovered that we had been forced to crash a swingers party. I remembered how the shock had turned to excitement as we became accustomed to the nudity and the sex around us. I remembered how excited Cindy had become, how she had nearly raped me while others around us fucked and watched us and each other.
I remembered how Cindy had dealt with the unexpected excitement that had come over her after that experience. She, my best friend, the one who could talk to me about anything, had experienced feelings that she could not discuss. Feelings that had overcome her. She had had to work out those feelings for herself. Now it was my turn.
The memories faded as the huge new house shrunk and finally disappeared in my rear view mirror. My thoughts returned to the beauty of spring.
I pulled up to the mail box and scooped the mail out of the back of the plastic mail container, throwing it on the seat beside me. Our home was several hundred feet off the road, set back in an idyllic pine forest, hidden from the road. Several hundred feet up a rutted and pitted and holed gravel lane that I made notes to have fixed. Three truck loads of fresh gravel should do the trick, that or several thousand dollars worth of asphalt.
Damn!!!! Three deer were having their evening breakfast in our front yard. One brazenly demolishing the shrub by our front door! They looked up and paid scant attention to the car entering the clearing of our front yard. The one munching the shrub into sticks watched the garage door open and calmly wandered to the edge of our yard and resumed eating the tender grass while the car slipped inside the garage.
I grabbed the mail in one hand and went outside. The three deer just stared. I waved my arms and screamed an obscenity. Two meandered into the pines with hardly a care. The third, the one who had been converting our shrub into scrap wood, just stared, stomped his/her front feet and snorted at me. I moved closer and the deer glared, then turned and calmly walked into the pines, obviously as upset with me for disturbing his meal, as I was at him eating it at my expense. I was conflicted by the emotions evoked by the deer. One couldn't help but be annoyed by wildlife destroying a hundred dollars worth of shrub, but one had to smile at the beauty and the audacity of the wildlife. We obviously considered each other as mutually obnoxious but harmless neighbors.
I went inside and kicked off my shoes on the rug by the laundry room door and threw my light jacket on the dryer, a move sure to upset Cindy when she got there. I would hang it properly when I was done with the mail, hopefully before Cindy got home.
I sat down at the counter and carefully sliced open the envelopes. Were it up to me, I would have ripped them open to get at the interior contents, but Cindy objected and so I carefully sliced the edges to leave neat envelopes. Once they were all neatly opened, I looked at what I had opened.
Two bills. Three offers for new credit cards. One offer of a new mortgage and.... And.... The memories came flooding back again. An invitation from Ron and Diane. Earth day was as good an excuse as any other to hold a swingers party.
More memories came back to me I saw images from the Valentines Day party. I saw myself looking into the eyes of Carolyn, the woman Diane had introduced to me as my cock first slid into her warm and welcoming pussy. I remembered how Diane and Carolyn had teamed to lick my gooey penis clean.
My male member rose to greet the thought and then I remembered watching as Ron fucked my Cindy and feeling what he felt, the wonder of her. I felt pride at how well she pleased our new friend and lust for my wife. I felt Cindy's pleasure.
Cindy had come after me to check on my emotions. She had been worried about my reaction to watching her fuck another man, but I assured her that I was OK with it. I gushed out the way I felt to her. I could almost see the concern turn back into desire.
Later I watched as Cindy pleasured two men. Perhaps I should have felt disgust or anger but instead I felt lust and pride as one exploded in her pussy and another in her mouth. Perhaps my anger was dulled by the presence of Diane bouncing on my lap as I watched my wife.
I felt strange feelings when she introduced me to her two lovers. Society told me that I should feel anger at her promiscuity but I didn't feel that way about her at all. She did not fuck anyone who asked but chose her lovers carefully. She spent time getting to know them as people, before she took them as human dildoes. Perhaps, I should have felt anger at the two men who had just had my wife, but we just exchanged knowing smiles and I knew that they thought I was a lucky man to have such a sexually skilled wife. And I did.
I felt even more lucky when we got home and my woman showed me the depth of her feeling for me. We talked for hours and I understood that she only loved me. She made love to me with her heart and her whole body but there she fucked the strangers with only her pussy. That night she showed me the depth of her excitement and fucked me till my toes curled and my heart melted with love for my girl.
My problems began the next day and they were still unresolved. I was not jealous of her other lovers. I was not angry with what she had done. I was not ashamed of the strange pussy I had enjoyed. I was jealous of the depth of her emotions, emotions that I did not feel to the same measure and perhaps I could never feel as strongly.
I was the man. I was the one who was supposed to be hot to chase strange pussy. I was the one who should be enthusiastic to rush back for more. Instead, I found that the experience had awoken things in Cindy, instead of me. She had found her exhibitionist side. She had found a great release in her sexuality. Once she thought she had my permission, She had flung herself emotionally as well as physically into swinging.
Cindy, like most women, had been taught to seek the approval, the desire, the praise of males. What more praise could she receive than the appreciation of her naked body, the compliments about how well she performed sexually? She basked in the praise. She gloried in the knowledge that many males openly lusted for her as they gazed upon her spectacular naked body and watched her sexual performance with other men. Those things had smitten her. She was beyond enthusiastic!
I was not jealous of what she did, or what she wanted to do. Instead I was suddenly turned upside down by the depth of her emotion, her desire, her enthusiasm. It should be me who felt that and instead it was her! I felt a stirring in my groin at the thought of those women open to me, but it was dull enjoyment. I would enjoy it, it would be fun to go, but for Cindy it would be a thrill that would envelop her thinking for the next few weeks.
It was strange. I was upset, not at what she would do if we went. Not by the jealousy of her taking other lovers. I was upset at how much she would want to go to the party. How did one explain that? How could I talk to her about it? I felt something totally irrational. Instead of thinking about how to discuss it with Cindy, I pondered whether I should hide the invitation.
As I was thinking about my strange internal conflict, I heard the scrunch of tires on gravel that signaled Cindy's arrival from work. It was too late to hide the invitation. Instead I steeled myself. I would just suppress the emotion and try to pretend that this strange feeling did not exist.
I met Cindy at the door from the garage to the laundry room with outstretched arms. I pulled her into my arms as she smiled coyly at me and then met my lips with her luscious ones. Our tongues reached out to do battle with each other. I was actually thinking about distracting Cindy while I recovered my coat from the dryer. It sort of worked. She didn't notice the coat. Instead she came into the kitchen and noticed the mail on the counter. The first thing she picked up was the invitation.
I watched the color rush to her cheeks and the broad excited smile come to her lips. She looked at me and almost beamed. Suddenly, I knew what she was thinking. She had misinterpreted the kiss at the door. Instead of understanding the camouflage of my misdeed, she thought it meant I was as excited by the invitation as she!
