Fallout

"Think about it, will ya Sam? You can't tell me the thought never crossed your mind."

That was Julie, my wife of six years, trying to convince me that we should entertain the thought of swapping with another couple. I wasn't so keen on the idea; sure, there were times I thought it might be fun to get a strange piece of ass. Between the year of courtship and the six years of marriage, it had been seven years of exclusivity with one woman.

And during those seven years there were a number of women who made it very clear that their bodies were available for my pleasure; and I admit to being tempted, but only tempted. Too many of my friends' marriages went into the crapper because one (or both) of the spouses who had vowed fidelity couldn't resist when a bit of strange came their way.

I have to admit I'm not a total saint; my virtuous behavior was partially due to the simple fact that Julie is an absolute knockout. Pretty face, eyes you can get lost in, a body that belongs in Playboy, and a libido that still made my head spin - why tempt fate? Besides, although the one aspect of swapping might have some allure, the half where I get to fuck another man's wife; the other half just left me cold - the part where the other man gets to fuck my wife. Definitely not one of my fantasies.

But here was my wife trying to convince me that swapping might be fun. Obviously, all the work I'd put into making Julie happy and content with our sex life was all for naught. So, I was doing my best to give Julie reasons why this wouldn't work. My arguments weren't the best, this had come out of nowhere, I had just finished my second IPA; and I admit, I may not be my best at providing counter-points when I'm emotional (or after two high octane ales).

"Julie; I have no desire to watch some asshole fuck you!"

"OK, then we'll do it in separate rooms."

"I don't want some guy fucking you in our bed!"

"You take the master bedroom; the other guy and I can use the guest room."

"What about diseases?"

"We'll make everybody have tests and get the results before the swap."

"Julie, you seem to have an awful lot of the answers. How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Only a couple weeks now, Sam; but I've been reading up on it. I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize our marriage."

"You don't think fucking another guy isn't going to jeopardize our marriage?"

"Not if we both agree to it beforehand and we both get something out of it. It's sharing, not cheating."

Julie saw my hesitation. Damn, I can't believe she's bringing this up after I finished that second ale. It wasn't fair, or maybe that was the reason for her bringing it up now.

"Tell you what Sam. We'll take it slow. I'll put an ad in the Real Detroit Weekly; we'll meet some prospective couples. If it doesn't feel right, we'll cut it off. No harm, no foul. Now, let's go to bed."

Like a lamb to slaughter I allowed my wife to take my hand and lead me upstairs into our bedroom. The combination of the beer, the emotions, the sight of my wife stripping her clothes (yes, even after all these years that sight could make a fool out of me), and the blood following south to my little head guaranteed I was a sucker for Julie and her grand designs.

I did my best to rock Julie's world that night. I played with those perfect C cup breasts, light love bites on the nipples, a good fifteen minutes kissing her clit and shoving my tongue up her vagina. I tried to remember past Super Bowl scores since the first Packers' victory just to hold off cumming too early as I fucked Julie in at least seven of the Kama Sutra positions. I made her scream and gyrate, twist and shout. I did everything I could until she begged for mercy at three in the morning; everything and anything to make Julie understand she didn't need another man for sexual satisfaction.

Call me stupid, naïve, whatever; but imagine my surprise when the next week Julie sat down for dinner and gave me the news.

"We've already received fourteen decent responses to our ad."

Yea, like I said - stupid. "What ad?"

"Our ad in the Real Detroit, silly."

Julie got up from the table and pulled the latest issue of the Real Detroit out of her briefcase. She handed it to me opened at the Personals. There, circled under the heading 'couples seeking couples':

"Late 20's buff, attractive, clean, non-bi white couple, seeking same for swap of mates."

I read the damn thing at least three times.

"Julie, I don't remember saying 'yes' to this. What the hell?"

"Sam; I just figured it got you so worked up last weekend that you were on board. Damn, you were hard for hours. I could tell you were thinking about it the entire time you were fucking me; your eyes had a glassy, far-off look to them; I knew you were picturing yourself with somebody new."

"I was not! Dammit; I was trying to remember football scores so I wouldn't cum too fast."

Julie actually had the nerve to start laughing at this. I began to pout, Julie quit laughing, sat in my lap and gave me a kiss.

Julie pulled my cock out of my pants and stroked it until it was hard. She used the other hand to hike up her skirt and move the fabric of her thong panties aside. She dropped down on my cock and continued down until our pubic bones met. Damn, she was wet! Looking into my eyes, Julie returned to her counter-point.

"Well, in that case, thank you. I must have cum a half-dozen times that night. I take it you were trying to impress me with your virility and stamina."

"Damn right I was."

"Look Sam, I didn't bring up swapping because I'm dissatisfied. I thought it would add an element of fun and excitement. I figured we could have a little fun with it before we started our family and became the typical suburban family with the minivan and strollers." Julie hesitated for just a moment before continuing her spiel, "Tell you what. Let's just try it and see how it goes. It will give us a chance to bust through conventionality, just for a while."

Didn't I say it already? Stupid, naïve me. I didn't say 'no' and the train kept a rolling.

It didn't take long for Julie to arrange a meeting with the couple she chose from all the responses. The following weekend Julie and I were preparing the house for an evening of entertainment with our new 'friends'. There were two trays of hors d'oeuvres, plus open bottles of Merlot and Pinot Blanc on the table in front of the fireplace. Two love seats sitting on either side of the table. Everything was ready to meet the lucky couple, everything but me. I kept wondering how pissed Julie would be if (or when) I threw the would-be swappers back out the door.

But I didn't. The doorbell rang and both Julie and I answered the door together. Kyle and Susan were standing there; Kyle with a great big smile on his face, Susan looking like I did, as if a guillotine would suddenly appear and we were the condemned. Kyle had a dozen roses in one hand and a bottle of Burgundy in the other; Julie waved them in. No sooner did the door close than Kyle handed the bottle to me, then with the free hand he hugged Julie. Susan stood there frozen, obviously unsure how to greet me.

They were an attractive couple. Kyle was at least five inches taller than my 5'10", obviously a gym rat or some sort of athlete, and he had that handsome, rugged look that women seem to cream over. Susan was a babe, though she'd be prettier if she smiled. She did give Julie a run for her money in the body department, maybe a bit smaller in the bust, but the entire package was something most men would drool over.

Introductions were made, the wine was poured. We sat and chatted, each of the couples on their own loveseat, but Julie sat across from Kyle and Susan was opposite me. I was about to refresh the wine in everyone's glass when Julie stood up and announced, "Well, we all know why we're here." She reached across to grab Kyle's hand and pulled him up off the couch, "Let's take this into the bedroom, Kyle." She looked over to me with a smile on her face. "See you two in the morning."

Stunned, incoherent, I just sat there watching the two of them walk back to the guest bedroom. I finally snapped out of it and looked over at Susan.

"What just happened?"

"I'm surprised they lasted that long. I've never seen Kyle so excited; he's practically walked around all day with a hard on."

"Have you two done this before?"

"No, Kyle came home last week with a copy of the Real Detroit and told me he answered your ad. Said we were going to 'open' our marriage. I didn't get a choice in the matter. You don't seem too keen on this; why'd you place the ad if you're so hesitant?"

"I didn't, Julie did. Like you, I got blindsided by this whole thing. Look, don't take this wrong, because you're a very attractive woman, but if it's OK with you, I'd just as soon spend some time getting to know each other. Would you mind if we held off before heading to the bedroom?"

Susan looked at me as if she had just received a reprieve from the governor. "Yes, I'd like that."

That's what we did; we sat on one of the loveseats and talked. I liked her, but could tell from our conversation that she was one of those women who needed a giant dose of self-confidence. She knew she was pretty, but thought she compared poorly to women like Julie and was reluctant to share her views on most of the topics we discussed.

It must have been an hour later; Susan and I were still sitting there talking quietly with the lights off when Kyle walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He was naked and his body lit up when he opened the refrigerator door. The guy was built like a Greek god, but worse than that, his soft cock was obviously bigger than mine. And even worse than that, the frig light reflecting the shine off his cock told me everything I feared. Kyle grabbed two beers out of the frig and padded back to the bedroom without noticing Susan and me.

"I take it Kyle's hung."

"Yes, he's large down there. If he's not careful it can hurt. I think it may be his reason for the swapping. So he can find a woman who can take the entire thing without wincing in pain."

Damn - that's the last thing I wanted to hear. I pulled Susan up off the couch. "OK, why don't I show you the bedroom. You can sleep in our bed and I'll take the floor."

I gave Susan one of my t-shirts to sleep in and she insisted I share the bed. I placed one of the king-sized pillows between us; I've heard that Mennonite couples do this when they become engaged so they can sleep together without ruining their virtue. Don't know if it's true, but it seemed like the right thing to do that night.

I lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and wondering why I allowed Julie to talk me into this mess.

It was nine in the morning before I woke up. Susan's side of the bed was empty. I put of a pair of sweatpants and walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Susan sat at the table by herself, the coffee pot was half full.

"Sorry I slept so late, I see you found the coffee. Thanks, I need a cup."

"It wasn't me that made the coffee; you just missed Julie and Kyle. They just went back into the bedroom to shower."

"Together? Crap, do you think we're going to be able to pull those two apart from one another?"

"I told Kyle I was leaving in an hour, with or without him. He didn't take it well, but I need to be at my folks' place for brunch. It's their thirtieth anniversary."

I grabbed the Sunday paper off the front porch and went into my usual Sunday morning routine - coffee and the sports page, then the book review section. Susan sat across from me and read, or tried to appear as if she was reading. At 11:00 she rose from the chair and knocked on the bedroom door. "Kyle, it's time. I'm leaving now."

Susan walked back to the table, kissed me on the top of the head. "Thanks for being such a gentleman. I'm sorry for how this worked out. Sorry you didn't get any sex."

"Me, too. Wait, that came out wrong. I'm not sorry we didn't have sex, well maybe I am a little because you're so gorgeous, but I'm sorry for, oh hell, never mind."

Just then Kyle walked into the room, a great big smile on his face that I wanted to wipe off. He slapped me on the back and talked while rushing to the front door. "You and Susan have a good night? She's a firecracker once she gets started, right? See you Sam." And then he was out the door.

I walked back to the guest bedroom and looked in. Julie was sleeping, the room smelled of sex and I left before I puked.

Julie didn't get up until five that afternoon. I spent the afternoon at the track. I didn't count laps, but wouldn't be surprised if I put in at least a half marathon. On the way home I picked up some Thai food. Enough for two, in case Julie was up and hungry.

She was. We sat down and ate, Julie was all bubbly.

"Did you and Susan have a good time last night? Kyle told me, how did he put it - 'a real firecracker' once she gets going."

"Actually, we didn't do anything last night. Neither one of us were in the mood."

Julie sat with the chop sticks poised in front of her mouth, her mouth open. "You spent the entire night with that beautiful woman and you're telling me you didn't do a thing?"

"Yep, that's what I'm saying. She said Kyle sprang this on her and she wasn't ready to swap." I wondered if Julie would catch the implications of my statement. She didn't.

"Well, that's too bad. I'm sure you two would have had some fun."

"How about you, Julie? Did you and Kyle have some fun?"

"It was nice. We took our time, too. Mostly got to know each other a little and we probably screwed a couple times. It was OK."

I wondered why Julie was playing it down. "So, does that mean we cross Kyle and Susan off the list?"

Julie looked surprised by my statement. "No, No. Let's wait to see. Can we not talk about this anymore tonight? I hate to think we don't have anything else to discuss together. How was your run today?"

OK, I may be slow, but I'm not that slow. Monday morning I called our company attorney and asked to meet with him and a family attorney from his firm. Unfortunately, I was due to fly out to Seattle early Tuesday and our conflicting schedules meant we couldn't meet until the following Monday. I also asked for a recommendation of a private detective. That afternoon I was in the Rice Investigations office meeting with Ronald Rice. I gave Mr. Rice the rundown on what I needed to know. He said they could get started on the investigation by Wednesday and would probably have something to me within a week.

I should take a step back here and explain how a twenty-nine year old has a nice three thousand square foot Craftsman-style house with a pool and his own business. My grandfather, my mom's dad, left both the house and the business to me, his only grandchild when he died two years ago. I started to work in Granddad's machine shop when I was sixteen; after school, weekends, vacations. It might sound bad, but Granddad always gave me time off for sports and dating. I went to school at the local university, majoring in business and accounting. (Granddad always said there were tons of guys who had technical expertise, but few of them could run a business, money management was every bit as important as technical know-how if you want to run a successful business.) Granddad's will was common knowledge, I would inherit the house and most of the business.

I met Julie when I was on a sales call to one of the large manufacturers we supply with machined parts. She was one of the clerks in the Purchasing Department. I took a bold chance after noticing the lack of a ring on her left hand; asked her out, she said 'yes' and within a month we were a couple. Within six months we were engaged. That's when my father stepped in. He had Granddad's law firm write up a pre-nuptial protecting my future inheritance if we divorced within the first twenty-five years of marriage. Dad said he'd take the heat if my fiancée was angered by a pre-nuptial.

Julie didn't seem too upset with the terms; she was madly in love with me. I remember her exact words, "Twenty-five years, is that all? I plan to be married to Samuel for at least fifty years!" God, I loved this woman.

Granddad died four months after his eighty-third birthday. I think he could have lived to a hundred, but he was a thirty-two year old Marine when he was captured by the Japanese during World War Two and spent eighteen months in a prisoner of war camp in China. If you know anything about camp conditions, you know how rough it was on the prisoners; over thirty percent of the U.S. POWs in Japanese camps died in captivity, compared to one percent in German camps in the European theatre. Anyway, those months in captivity messed up some of his internal organs, but he always claimed to be one of the lucky ones - to make it home after the war and to live as long as he did.

Here I was, twenty-nine years old, with a wife, a home and a great business; but even after two years I missed seeing granddad every morning when I walked into the shop.

Monday night's dinner with Julie was quiet. We did make love that night since I'd be gone until Friday. If you are wondering why I would leave town with my marriage hanging by a string, the answer is simple. My company needed this contract with a Seattle based aerospace business that supplies Boeing. Without this contract I might have to lay off a couple employees. My hope was my marriage would survive, but I needed this contract.

I kissed Julie good-bye Tuesday morning and told her I loved her. She thanked me for making love to her last night and said how good it felt. She hugged me and said she loved me more than ever. I felt almost human again as hopped into the cab.

As was our typical routine, Julie and I spoke on the phone every night while I was on the road. During Thursday night's conversation I got a jolt. It had been a good day and I was in a great mood. Terms were agreed to earlier that afternoon, tomorrow morning the contract would be signed. Not only would everyone in the plant have a job for the next two years, but I might need to hire an additional machinist. Life was good, and then it wasn't.

Julie's voice dripped with excitement as we chatted, I thought it was due to my news, but it seemed something else was more exciting.

"Guess what, Sam. I talked to Kyle today and he explained why Susan was so reluctant to swap last Saturday. They talked it over and Susan is all in for this Saturday. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Wait, Julie - do you mean they're coming over again Saturday? I'm not too crazy about this. I've been out of town for three days and looking forward to some time together, you and me."

"I'll fuck your eyes out Friday when you get home, Sam. Don't worry, you're going to be a happy camper when I get through with you."

In my defense, it had been a long two days negotiating with three VPs and I didn't have the energy to argue with Julie over the phone. I hadn't eaten much all day and it was seven PM on the west coast. I told Julie I'd see her tomorrow, I needed to eat. She told me once again how much she loved me before we hung up.

They tell me the steaks at the Metropolitan Grill in Seattle are as good as they are anywhere in the U.S., but I don't remember much about the filet I ordered that night. The bourbon burned going down, I remember that.

Friday - I needed to buckle down and pay attention. There were last minute additions to the contract, nothing unusual for such a large order. It meant I needed to switch from the one o'clock to the five o'clock flight. There was one seat left on the five o'clock, it was in first class, but I booked it. We spent the morning ironing out those last details, spent lunch in the conference room, and by two-thirty I was on my way to SeaTac.