My wife, Ellen, and I are now in our 60s. We have together chronicled the seven occasions in about 40 years of marriage when we have stepped outside the bond of matrimony. Neither of us, and she's not the deceitful sort, have ever had an affair apart from these seven occasions where we participated together with other adults in a sexual encounter. Doing the math, that means that one day out of every 2,000 or so, we "crossed the line" into extramarital sex. I think that's hardly excessive, though I know many will disagree.
I chronicled five of these encounters and Ellen has penned two. They can be found on my profile page.
All the names, dates and places have been changed, but the events in these seven accounts are true and without embellishment as we both recall them.
We have withheld this final report (for there shall be no more exploits to relate), because Ellen has always been embarrassed about it, and you will see that it is quite a personal and delicate ordeal. And though it doesn't relate to our married life, our story is incomplete without it, and we have decided to bring together the entire history of our explorations and tie it up with this little ribbon at last.
There are two reliable sources for this event, and more on that after all is told.
* * * * *
This happened in the mid '70s, before we were married; before I had ever met her.
Ellen had just turned 20. Her parents were wealthy Catholics who lavishly supported the regional seminary, a place where young men are trained into the priesthood. It was a brisk fall evening, and Ellen's family was playing host to a gaggle of select young seminarians and older teaching priests at their home in Grosse Pointe. After a very extravagant dinner, Ellen's parents joined the priests and a few of the older seminarians for a few drinks at a fashionable local watering hole. Ellen was not yet of legal drinking age, so she stayed behind in the house with four of the younger seminarians of the same cursed age while the older folks partied.
At 20, Ellen was a much wilder and slightly smaller version of herself in her prime. She had very wild black hair of medium length (as she does still), an angel face, and her body was beautiful but without the voluptuous bloom of her later years, and no, that is NOT French for "fat." She simply got more curvy as the years passed, but never fat. She was very intelligent then as now. And she was a devil. She was a devil among four seminarians, and she decided on the spur of the moment, that she was going to give these young wanna-be priests a baptism by fire.
I asked her about what was going through her mind at that point, and she told me that she was more excited than she had ever been before at what she hoped lay before her that night.
"Let's play some pool!" Ellen suggested with a big smile at the four ungainly lads sitting crouched in the parlor. She has always been an expert ice-breaker, and without fail the quartet stood to happy attention, and when they entered the family room/pool parlor she followed along with a beer each for the four young men. They happily accepted, though it was not entirely kosher that the boys should indulge.
The men paired off to play 8-ball in teams of two. While they played, Ellen made sure she had their peripheral attention. She wore a white pleated skirt modestly above the knee, white socks and little black leather shoes. Above the skirt, a red shirt with black buttons and long sleeves. A nice, a perfect, Catholic schoolgirl look. As the boys played they snuck looks at this angel. Naturally, their exposure to women was limited, but Ellen was not just your average girl. She was hot as hell, and she doted upon the lads.
At one point during the second game, Ellen pulled a long face and one of the men asked what was wrong.
"Oh, it's these shoes!" she whined. "I think I need to take them off." She looked around at the lads. "Do you mind?" Of course no one minded, and she sat on a sofa a few feet behind the pool table.
Now I will detail, briefly, who the boys were. Charles was a tall, gangly second-year man and the best of the pool players. Bill was a young first-year boy, young in all ways, with blond locks and always smiling. Aaron was a big and quiet boy, bespectacled and homely, and very prudish. The forth fellow was John, usually a wallflower but tonight he was completely hypnotized by Ellen and could not take his eyes off her.
So Ellen bent to see better the buckles of her shoes, spreading her knees artlessly to remove the stubborn footwear. The pool-playing ceased as the boys gaze lit on Ellen's display. You could see panties. White. Tan summer thighs right the way up. Ellen looked up so fast that they were all caught off-guard.
Ellen laughed a sound like the jangle of a crystal chandelier. "Oh! I'm sorry!" she gasped as she closed her knees. "Was I being immodest? Oh dear..." and she frowned a little frown.
The boys all blushed as a unit. Stammering that "it was all right" and "that's okay" and even a "we didn't look" coming from (who else) the prudish and slowly panicking Aaron. Slowly they resumed their game, giving sidelong glances at Ellen, who was now removing her little socks, then stretching out her naked calves displaying her angel feet and flexing her painted toes in relief.
"Aaahhhh... that feels so much better!!" The lads gaped, all noting the red polish on the nails of her wiggling toes. And just when they thought that the heat was off and they could resume the safety of their game, Ellen asked in a clear voice, "Do you men think I'm pretty?"
"I do," John piped instantly, and Ellen and two of the lads laughed.
Charles did not. He looked around for his coat, snatched it up, and said, "Goodnight all. This isn't for me."
Ellen looked crestfallen and Charles added quickly, "It's not you, Ellen. Thanks for your hospitality. And yes you are very pretty but I have to go now." And the other boys reminded him at once that they were three miles from the seminary gate, and it would be a long and cold walk, and why not just wait till the old guys got back and drove us home? But Charles would hear none of it, and was out the door with no more delay.
Ellen started to "cry." Tears. Woman's weapons. John and Bill were soon gathered about her in sympathy explaining that Charles was a strange guy and let's just forget all about this, but Aaron held back and looked uncomfortable, like he wasn't sure what to do. He took a seat in a large padded chair on the wall beside the pool table and forced a smile.
Ellen caressed the heads of the other two boys and gave each a kiss on the cheek, and then dried her tears with the back of her hand with a shy smile. Ellen stood, and brushed and straightened her skirt. She stepped away from her two admirers and then turned to face them. Aaron saw her in profile from the side of the room. She turned to look at Aaron and smiled at him. Aaron looked away.
"Men," she began carefully, "you're about to say goodbye to the world as priests, and in a few short years. I feel inspired tonight, to be a part of your transition. It's no coincidence that we have been so nicely thrown together tonight, here all alone, in perfect safety for what's likely to be at least a couple of hours to share among ourselves. But you're still seminarians. No vows yet."
Ellen stopped to look deep into the boys as they would allow. John and Bill were co-operating nicely, mesmerized by the charm of the girl, but Aaron was looking away again, tight lipped and stiff.
She went on. "So before it becomes a sin, share with me a little of yourselves, so that you come to know what you are sacrificing for your vocation. That will enrich your new life even more."
All three of the lads now wore a puzzled look. What in hell is she talking about, and what was about to happen? Ellen reached to the hem of her shirt and brought it over head in a graceful swish, and tossed the red shirt onto the sofa. She stood before them now in skirt and white lacy brassiere of medium size, a small red rose at the point of her cleavage, which revealed almost half of her heavy breasts. Young Bill stepped back and slipped back down on to the sofa. John remained standing. Aaron looked away with a reflex action.
Ellen stepped toward sitting Bill, and with her hands on his shoulders bent down to place her bust at his eye level. "Bill, look at my breasts. Can you imagine what they look like without my bra in the way?" As his eyes dined on the glory she gave him a moment to take it in. Then she straightened up and tousled his blond hair with both hands. "Bill, you a such a beauty. Any girl would be proud to have you."
Bill was red and flustered, but grateful. Not like a sex-king; like a grateful boy. John, still standing also feasted his eyes on her half-veiled breasts as she stood in front of him inviting his look.