No cuckholding. No BTB or RAAC. Sorry. Just a story about some people.
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Yeah, you have to wade through all the background material to really get the gist of this story. I know it can be boring and repetitive, but the due diligence is important for those readers who want the full picture. If you are a skimmer, then you can skip all this, but you won't truly find the story unsatisfying.
My name is Chip Stevenson. I am 71 years old, in fair health, retired, and considered boring by almost everyone with whom we socialize. By we, I mean my wife of 47 years, Darlene. She is 3 years my junior, making her 68, still attractive but, like me, has gotten sedentary and home-bound since her retirement several years ago. Our life centers on our home, garden, and grandkids. I guess we would be typical for our age group.
We live in an upscale neighborhood. Our house is paid for, and we have no plans to move. We have remodeled the house several times to suit our needs and tastes, find it comfortable, and will be here as long as we can maintain ourselves. The house sits in a cul-de-sac with 11 other homes comparable to ours. We bought the house while our kids were still in school and have lived here ever since. Most of the coupled that lived here while we were raising our kids have moved on to bigger and better homes. The small neighborhood suffered a bit of a decline for a while, but a developer came in and purchased several of the houses, renovated them to more modern standards, and flipped them in a growing market.
Now we are back in a neighborhood made up mostly of 30 something couples with kids. It is nice to see all the activity and the children running around the street. It has helped the value of our home. The rebirth of the neighborhood also changed our situation. We became the "old" couple". Since we are at home most of the time, we have become the "neighborhood watch."
The tempo and the social structure of the neighborhood has also changed. There is more activity and the younger homeowners socialize more than the senior citizens of our old group or the renters, who were usually very temporary and itinerant. We have become friends with most of the younger couples in the neighborhood.
It has been interesting to watch as the neighborhood morphs back close to what it was when we first bought the house. The younger couples, busy with kids and careers, quickly socialized around the houses in the cul-de-sac. Soon, there were weekend parties and even some mid-week dinner gatherings. Slowly, we got invites to these functions by being the long-term residents and token senior citizens on the cul-de-sac. We didn't accept many of them, figuring none of the younger couples really had any desire to have the old folks around while they socialized.
A few of the parties got our attention and our attendance. We gathered with most of the others at the small park that was part of our little cul-de-sac neighborhood for the last July 4th celebration. There was barbecue, home-made ice cream, potato salad and all the other trimmings. There was also a huge cooler of cold beer and a makeshift bar with what I considered an excellent selection of better quality liquors. It was fun. I spent most of the day and evening with some husbands, getting to know them. One of the other couples provided a wonderful fireworks display. Darlene and I had a great time.
We became more involved in the neighborhood social scene during that summer and through the fall. At one point, Darlene and I decided to reciprocated everyone's hospitality, and opened our home and garden to the neighborhood for a Labor Day party. It was an immense success and almost all the families came. For the first time in many years, our house was full of laughter, talk, and excitement. The activities energized Darlene, and I was proud to hear all the favorable remarks about our house and gardens.
Things slowed down over the winter months. The holidays saw many of the young families away visiting relatives. It wasn't until late March that we received the invitation from the Harris's who lived directly across from us on the cul-de-sac. Jim Harris called to invite us to join the rest of the neighbors at their house to christen their new swim spa. At that time, I did not know what a swim spa was. I was familiar with hot tubes and saunas. Jim just told me to bring a swimsuit and be ready for a great evening.
Saturday afternoon, Darlene and I made our way across the cul-de-sac to the Harris's house. Most of the others were already there. Jim and his wife, Adrian, welcomed us and immediately took us out to their backyard. I knew there had been a lot of activity with construction workers and landscapers around their house during the winter months. What they had accomplished was outstanding. The lot on which their house stood sloped away from the house to a wooded creek area a couple of hundred yards away. Jim and Adrian had added an enormous deck just off the doorway out of the house. On one side of the deck, I could see what looked like a small swimming pool. It was larger than a hot tub, but certainly not big enough to do any serious laps.
Jim chuckled as I asked about the pool. He took us over and explained that it was a hot tub and an exercise pool. He showed us how the system worked and started the pump. At one end of the pool, a huge jet of water circulated. The pump created a current that you could swim against. The higher the velocity of the water jet, the harder you had to swim to maintain your position. He explained it was a significant form of exercise and worked beautifully on their sloping lot where it would be difficult and expensive to install an in-ground pool. The concept intrigued me. Jim told us to go inside and change into our swimsuits, and we were free to use the pool. There were already several couples in the water, and I had to admit it looked inviting.
That most of our neighbors were attractive and fit young people in their mid-thirties didn't hinder my interest. Most of the other wives were wearing two-piece swimsuits. The young men were attractive, fit, and some were wearing swimsuits that did little to hide their assets.
My swimsuit was a conservative black set of trunks. I am no great physical specimen at my age. I have a bit of a belly and some Dunlap at my waist. You know what I mean. My belly has done lapped over my waist. Anyway, I went into one bedroom and quickly donned my suit. Grabbing my towel and tossing it over my shoulder, I stepped out in the hall to wait for my wife. She came out of the other bedroom wearing her usual one-piece bathing suit with a small skirt. She was a little sensitive about her rear end and kept it covered if possible. We headed back to the party.
I stopped and got a cold beer as we came through the kitchen. Darlene chose a glass of white wine, and we made our way back to the patio. The hamburgers and sausages were all cooked and arrayed in a buffet style, and everyone else was now in the swim spa. We heard them all telling us to join them. We did, finding the water hot, the bubbles relaxing, the company enjoyable, and the atmosphere congenial. For the next couple of hours, all of us rotated in and out of the swim spa, to get drinks, food, or cool off from the hot water.
I don't know exactly what affected me so much that evening. I could have been the combination of the hot water in the spa, and the four or five beers I consumed in a couple of hours. At any rate, I found a comfortable lounge chair on the patio with a nice thick cushion, stretched out, and apparently went to sleep. No one seemed too concerned, and they all kept on partying. Darlene, being the real extrovert in our relationship, was used to me finding a quiet place to spend my time and didn't think it abnormal that I was off in my own little world.
I was after midnight when I woke up. Probably, the only reason I came awake was my bladder begging for attention. I stood up and looked around. The patio was empty, as was the swim spa. It had gotten dark and cool outside, and I assumed everyone had moved the party indoors. Whatever the situation, I needed to pee, and that was the number one task on my mind. Focused on the task at hand, I headed indoors to the bathroom just off the entryway to the house.
Once I had relieved the pressure in my bladder, I stepped out. I expected to find some others in the den. Looking around, I discovered that the whole first floor of the house was empty and quiet. I knew the upstairs were sleeping spaces and didn't expect anyone to be there. The only other option was the basement. Most of the homes in the neighborhood had full basements that were never finished. We used ours for storage.
I found the door and stairway leading down to the basement. I could hear murmuring from below and assumed the party had moved downstairs. This was unusual until I realized that Jim and Adrian had also finished their basement space. A landing area with three doors finished the bottom of the stairway. Two doors stood closed, but the third one was open a crack and a strip of light was shining through the narrow opening. I could hear the voices better now. Pushing the door open slightly, I prepared to join the party again, but then stopped short.
There were people in the basement, which was set up as a media room, with a huge projection screen on the far wall and several theater style seats arrayed in front of the screen. Four of the people in the room, two men and two women, were standing with their backs to the door, engrossed in whatever was happening in front of them. I couldn't see past them. There was nothing on the screen, but something in front of them had their attention. I eased into the room along one wall where I could see past the four standing people.
As I crept down the wall, I could see a man standing between the other four people and the back of the theater seats. I finally realized that the man's swimsuit was down around his ankles. Moving a step further, I saw a naked ass pointing up towards the man. His hands were grasping the ass, and I saw his cock sliding in and out of what looked to be a very wet and ready pussy. Suddenly, a head turned to look at me. It was Adrian. She grinned and stepped toward me, grasping my arm and pulling me forward.
"Come and get a better look."
I stepped forward and realized the ass I was looking at belonged to my wife, Darlene. She was naked, bent over the back of the theater chair while one of the other neighbors, Pete Williams, was busy pounding away at her. Looking over the chair, I saw Pete's wife, Susan, on her knees in front of Darlene, kissing her deeply while her hand was busy beneath Darlene. I assumed she was playing with Darlene's A-cup breasts. I gawked at the scene, and then my surprise expressed itself.
"What the ever living fuck is going on here?"
I don't know if it was my words, the tone of voice I used, or that I stepped forward and pulled Pete back away from my wife. Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Pete shook his head and stepped back toward Darlene as he spoke.
"It's pretty obvious. We are fucking Darlene."
Now Pete is almost 40 years younger than I am, stands a good 3 inches taller, and obviously works out. My fist in his gut put him on his ass on the floor. His wife, who had stood up to see the commotion, screamed and rushed around the theater seats to kneel at his side. Just then, Darlene raised her head, and I heard her voice, slurred and husky.
"What's going on?"
I reached down and grabbed her arm and pulled her until her feet touched the floor. I spun her around and looked at her face. Dilated pupils stared back at my drunkenly. Her face was flushed and her breathing rapid. I growled at her.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She smiled, which set me back a little and caused me some distress.
"I'm partying. Aren't you going to join in?"
I looked at the other's. I'm sure my voice was stressed as I began asking questions.
"How the hell did Darlene get in this condition?"
Pete spoke from the floor, holding the towel to his lip, which muffled his words to a certain degree.
"She came down willingly. Nobody forced her."
Adrian stepped up close to me and took my upper arm in her hands. I looked down at her.
"Really, Chip. We were in the hot tub after you fell asleep, having a few more drinks. The conversation covered many things, and the topic sort of went sideways. At some point, most of the others had to get their babysitters home. Our kids are with our parents. The others have babysitters for their kids. We smoked a joint. Even Darlene took a couple of hits. We had a few more drinks and Pete confessed he had some X and wondered if anyone would like one. We all took one. Darlene asked us what X was, and Pete explained it was really called MDMA and had some simulation qualities and could be a mild hallucinogenic. I have to admit that we all encouraged Darlene to try it. I guess it was the pot, the alcohol, and the X. We turned off the patio lights and sat in the hot tub for a while. Eventually, Jim and I, and Pete and Susan, were nearly having sex in the swim spa. I guess Darlene was watching us, and suddenly, I felt her hand rubbing up and down my back. I turned and smiled at her. She slid closer to Jim and I and the next thing I knew I was kissing her while Jim had his cock in my pussy. Things escalated from there, and we eventually moved down here when it got cold."
I stood in total shock. I looked at all of them and then at Darlene. She was still glassy-eyed and wobbled a bit as she stood next to me. I did my best to contain my anger and spoke as calmly as I could.
