Chris paced the carpet. Driven by the temptation to go back a watch his wife and her lover, but he didn't, knowing that he was most definitely excluded from the action of their bedroom, hearing the squeals of delight, the sighs and sounds of sex coming from the room only a few feet and a couple of doors away from him was pure torment. The television played to its self, unobserved and disregarded as his minds eye played out the visions of what he knew was going on in there. Jacqui's body writhing in its supple way, sweat glistening on her skin as her lover bringing forth another wracking climax from the tongue teasing her swollen clit would be receiving. He pictured the scene that was undoubtedly happening next door; Jacqui's knees spread wide in that athletic pose she could manage, her hands, claw like, gripping the sheet either side of her body scrunching the material into crease ridden pyramids. Nicola's blonde head would be buried, nose deep in Jacqui's shaven mound; come, dripping from Nicola's chin from a climatic gush issued as a wave of pleasure passed. He knew very well what was happening, wanted badly, desperately almost, to be part of it, but respected their desire for privacy. It just was no easy thing, listening to the woman you love and had so much intimacy with, having such a good time and not be involved, even in some small way. He could not know the outcome of this liaison or what it would mean to him.
They had been married the better part of fifteen years, certainly all of their young adult lives. During which time, they had passed through the stage of tearing off each others clothes in a lust crazed frenzy at every opportunity they got, suffering an animalistic need to have flesh in side and against flesh. Their lovemaking was fuelled by the instinctive desire to procreate, but also a need to cement their relationship; it was a wild thing of raw energy and emotion, of trial and error, of successful culmination, of ecstatic climax. Often, they frantically fucked and rutted until exhaustion overtook them or their bodies refused to respond until rested and recharged.
After three years, it was discovered that Jacqui was unable to conceive in any normal way that if they wanted children, it would only be through IVF treatment, but with even this, the chances of a full term pregnancy were not looking too good. As with most setbacks, some good comes out of it; they decided to pursue their careers and enjoy the fruits of their labours.
Their sex lives and feelings underwent a subtle change once the news of Jacqui's problem was realised. The frenzied, wild assaults lessened to a more comfortable and fulfilling sharing of tenderness and love. Their early years together were certainly based on lust and the sub-conscious selection of genetic matching as Jacqui found a suitable mate with the attributes she unwittingly sought; love was no more than a far off fantasy, but became something they grew into as time went by.
There disposable income grew exponentially as they climbed the ladders of their respective careers. Chris was heading up a design department in a medium sized advertising company while Jacqui was well on the way to becoming the Finance Director for a local business consortium. Their combined money meant that they could afford the luxuries denied most couples with small children. It also meant they had time for each other, rarely gifted to mother and father people.
With wealth comes a life style, starting often enough with a desirable residence. Chris had an eye for property and chose a reasonably large three bed roomed bungalow in the suburbs of London. Jacqui was given free rein to decorate and created a thing of beauty after many long, often-tedious head banging sessions with the builders.
They had their big cars, Chris liked the under stated lines of his 911 while she chose a Mercedes SLK 320. They ate wherever they liked and enjoyed some of the more exotic locations for holidays. Their clothing reflected their lifestyle, designer labels prominent as a badge of office.
Then they started society swinging. It began merely as an idle interest at first rather than a need to spice up a flagging marriage. Neither could remember which of them found the web site or made the application to join the private parties arranged at clubs in and around London, but it hardly mattered and in truth, they both loved the cam-community, often showing themselves on the mini-camera as they fucked and played for the viewing delight of so many strangers. They had light-heartedly talked about having someone join them as a sexual partner, Chris's mental picture included only another female, but Jacqui's had herself pinioned between Chris and another man, one at either end.
They intended to attend a private function, researched on the Internet, merely as spectators. For most people, this is usually the introductory thinking until the sexual charge of a swinging party overtakes the natural reserve and they become fully paid up members. They went to a couple of events, staying out of the limelight as interested observers then going home to fuck each other's brains out. Both of them were quite satisfied with this until a huge black guy approached Jacqui on their third or fourth event. Chris watched as he made a move on his wife, observed her initial reluctance to accept the invitation to dance and then silently delight when she relented and the Guy's hands explored Jacqui's ass and breasts as they progressed in a circular fashion around the dance floor. The number finished, she kissed him full on his lips and left him breathless, with a slightly bewildered look on his face as she returned to Chris's side.
She was quite flushed as she sipped her drink and he noted that her breathing rate was higher than normal. She enjoyed the attentions of this stranger's hands, of how he had handled her, of how it made her feel. It awoke in her a desire, a sleeping dragon, and some wanton lust to be little more than a whore on the make.
That night at home, she was like a wild animal in bed, demanding that Chris fuck her hard and deep. She sucked him as if her life depended on it and then, when he had emptied his sacs into her; she aroused him again using her mouth and dextrous fingers, then screwed him until they fell into an exhausted slumber. It had been some time since they had fucked in such a way, her riding him as if insatiable; neither of them analysed it, just enjoyed the moment, but it was obvious that a chord in Jacqui had been struck.