Jill & Tim's Story

VI

Jill

THE QUESTION we're most frequently asked by people who know of (some of) our activities but who are not, themselves, involved in anything like them is, "If you love each other, how can you stand watching each other have sex with other people?"

Our answer is this: We can “stand” it, without any strain on either of our parts, simply because we ARE in love with each other. In our definition of Love, part of it is the urge to want to see the person you love enjoying themself, being happy, being thrilled, getting pleasure. "Owning" Tim, or his body, has no place in that concept; not even “owning” his emotions -- or, worse, taking them for granted.

Watching Tim enjoying himself -- whether at a concert, in a play, photographing a sunset .. or a naked girl whose pussy he's going to eat enthusiastically just as soon as he takes the last picture on the roll -- and knowing that he's having fun at it makes me feel good because, by my cooperation, if nothing else, I made it possible for him to do it and to enjoy it without guilt or fear of my being pissed about it.

He feels the same way about me (which is the only way that particular philosophy works: mutually). Watching me get well-fucked while screaming my joy at the wonderful sensations makes Tim happy that I'm getting pleasure from it -- NOT jealous that my lover-of-the-moment can get my rocks off -- Tim can, too, and knows it, just like I know I can drive him crazy whenever I want .

The simple fact is, we both need variety in our lives, in all areas, not just sex .. although, admittedly, that's the place it shows up strongest .. and strangest. Neither of us could survive an environment composed exclusively of our jobs, our home and each other, in a never-ending closed circuit. Our boredom thresholds are too low: we constantly need new faces, new places, new experiences, whether it takes the form of a cocktail party, a play we're in, a new movie .. or the nearby swingers' lounge, where there’s a great opportunity to meet new people with new needs, giving new thrills and faces to classic activities.

***

We go to The Club (the aforementioned swingers' lounge) about once a month, sometimes twice; it is, by no means, our every night or every weekend experience. The main part of the crowd in this private membership key club is a bit younger than we are, chronologically, but we can almost always count on meeting at least one couple we like and will take home with us, or get invited to a “party” which, in swinging parlance, is what the “straights” call an orgy.

At The Club, the owners know us pretty well (one might even say "intimately"), and will introduce us to new couples who, in the owners' opinion, might be compatible with us. If this doesn't happen, we look around and spot the couple (there’s almost always one) sitting quietly at their table, watching the dancing, the table-hopping .. and obviously neither of them with the courage to initiate any action themselves. When we spot a couple like this, if we like their looks (which judgement has more to do with their

"vibes" than how God assembled them), we'll invite ourselves over to their table for a drink and conversation. Almost invariably, they're first-timers; either they've discussed swinging and decided, hesitantly, to see what it's all about, or either-or-both of them has been screwing around on the sly, been discovered at it, and they've decided to bring their urges together, if possible. If these people really seem to like each other, we'll invite them home where, in our red-lit queensize bed, we’ll gently initiate them into the pleasures of same-room swinging. While they're rarely skilled, sexually, there's a keen sense of fulfillment in getting them started off on the right foot in this new lifestyle, especially in getting them over that first, critical hump (sorry about the pun) -- which, almost invariably, comes when Tim drives the female half of the couple into a screaming climax, which sets up a jealousy reaction in her husband. I always try to arrange it so that he's so busy and excited that he really can't either pay too much attention to or get indignant about what Tim's doing for his wife.

Frankly, Tim and I have gotten rather skilled at bringing both parties to the same level of excitement at almost the same time, making it a shared experience for them, rather than two separate experiences coincidentally taking place in the same room.

For these first-timers, we do most of the "work," using our mouths on them liberally, excitingly, slowly. We generally manage to arrange it so that, for the Grand Finale, the two of them are laying side-by-side, both thoroughly frantic. Tim raises his body over hers and slowly sinks his cock into her (by now) welcoming, well-tongued pussy, while I straddle her husband's hips and lower myself onto his throbbing, well-sucked cock, then lean forward to lay my naked tits on his chest.

Then, in our own little fillip, we reach down and put their hands together, encouraging their fingers to intertwine, and gently talk to them, telling them how much we're enjoying them .. and how much we love each other. We encourage them to take pleasure in their partner's enjoyment of what's happening to them.

Meanwhile, of course, we're fucking them physically as well as in their minds. Not too far down the road, conversation becomes difficult but, by that time, we've poured our message into their subconsciously sex-receptive minds, so we're free to build ourselves to a peak and screw our brains out with our partners of the evening.

We do our best to leave them as limp and satiated as we are ourselves after coming multiple times.

Our successes , I'm happy to report, outnumber our failures.

***

For no-holds-barred, unrestrained, mindless sensuality, though, we go looking for a party.

As information for those of you who've never attended one of these .. although there's a world of variations (hurray!), the format for your average orgy is fairly simple: the livingroom, well-lit, is "neutral ground:" you can be naked or clothed, you might even get -- or give the gentle-but-intimate caress or two but, in the main, overt sexual activities are discouraged in this area. This is for conversation, resting .. and choosing potential partners. As the evening wears on, there’s more and more bare skin on display there (sometimes symbolically cloaked, mock-modestly, in a towel which, for all practical purposes, hides nothing) but the sex isn’t, although the conversations are, understandably, rather unrestrained .

But it's in this area that someone will express an interest in being intimate with you for awhile and, if the idea (and the person who's proposed it) strikes your fancy, then the two (or three or four) of you move off to one of the bedrooms. As Tim puts it, "You move from the conversation pit to the passion pit."

Since there’s rarely enough bed space to accommodate the number of bodies wanting to occupy it, there are almost always mattresses and/or air mattresses scattered on the floor around the beds, so you pick an unoccupied spot and go for it.

(Parenthetically, I should comment that, yes, while most of the girls, as do the men, get totally naked -- except for ankle bracelets, waist chains, pendants and such -- I still wear my hose, usually ... although, in deference to my hosts' furniture and furnishings, I kick my heels off before leaving the livingroom, putting them back on as soon as I return. Wearing my hose -- and, sometimes, my garterbelt or basque, although thigh-highs are more convenient -- has earned me the nickname --affectionate nickname, I hope -- of "Nylon Jill.” Since I’m almost always a minority of one at those times, I feel deliciously conspicuous, walking through the livingroom clad in nothing but my heels and hose, but I love the blatant display, the nice things it does for my legs .. and the caresses it invites in EITHER room!).

If you're looking for privacy at a party, forget it .. that is, PHYSICAL privacy: it's just not to be had. Even if the only light in the bedroom is drifting in from the hallway, you can be seen .. and will be. It’s interesting that it's considered very poor form for a guy to take a gal into a bedroom, then close -- or worse, LOCK -- the door; men doing this have been known to be punched out, not for jealousy's sake, but for the safety of the lady involved. Experience has made this a serious breach of orgiastic etiquette.

However, there IS emotional privacy. People join you and your partner(s) only by invitation: anyone who fails to observe that custom will be unceremoniously thrown out the front door. They're welcome to sit and watch -- right next to you, if they want -- but no intruding without an invitation. Occasionally, it's all right for them to reach out and touch; if you like it, you keep your mouth shut and enjoy. If you DON'T like it, you quietly, nicely, ask them not to .. and the rules say That's It.

Voyeur/exhibitionist that I am, I love it!

Again, we’ve developed our own pattern. After a minimal amount of conversation in the livingroom, we quietly doff our clothes and head for the playpens; we're usually one of the first couples back there. We pick our spot, then move into each others arms to kiss, to caress, for me to openly, proudly, suck Tim's cock to near the explosion point before I lay back, open my conspicuously hose-clad legs, and welcome my husband's mouth into my bush.

I can't remember it ever failing that someone's come over to watch: sometimes a guy, sometimes a gal, more usually a couple. Being on the noisy end of the climax scale, I tend to draw an audience -- and, as you should know after reading this far, I LOVE an audience!

Even in the midst of what Tim is so wonderfully doing to me, I’m aware of our company when they kneel or sit at our side -- my side, actually. Many women, when this happens, close their eyes and try their best to ignore it; perverted wench that I am, I strike up a conversation, even while Tim is busily munching away at my box.

If it's a guy, and I like his demeanor, I invite him to stroke my breasts; if he accepts the invitation (no turn-downs to date), I stroke his cock before, usually, pulling him to me to suck it. Somehow, this almost always ends up with me getting well-fucked by the gentleman while Tim either watches or gets involved in something else.

If my audience is female, the conversation quickly turns to how good Tim is at what he's doing; naturally, I always give him a shining endorsement. I invite her to try his mouth on for size. Almost always, she accepts, and I'm treated to the sight of my darling lapping her cunt.

Occasionally, I’ve gotten a pleasant surprise when the gal has turned down that invitation and, instead, has suggested that I try on HER mouth for comparison purposes! Once, in fact, the gal indicated that she really didn't want to interrupt the pleasure Tim was giving me .. but she'd love to try MY mouth on for size!

Well, I didn't find it difficult to accommodate her, and we made quite some picture. me on my back being eaten by Tim, her straddling my face being eaten by me (and that, my friends, is how we came to meet Theo, still one of our dearest friends!).

If, as is usually the case, it's a couple, there's some combination of the above. I can't remember it ever working out exactly the same way twice.

(Funny: almost always, it's AFTER you've come with your partner that you get around to exchanging first names). For the rest of the evening, it’s kind of catch-as-catch-can, although each of us tries to tryst in the same room that the other's in, even if we're separated by a number of sweating, bonded bodies: we can still hear each other, and we like that.

***

Our most fulfilling and interesting sex, though, comes from responses to our swingers magazine ads. Maybe it’s because the ads are so specific, perhaps it's the knowledge on the respondent's part that he/she/they have only one opportunity to state their case, either-or-both reasons amplified by that quirk of human nature that so often allows you to be more candid with a stranger than with a friend .. whatever it is, the people who answer our various ads are usually unbelievably frank about themselves and their desires, the letters always accompanied by photos that range from the just-barely-concealing to blatant livingroom pornography.

Those that do nothing for us, we return, anonymously, with a short "Thank you” and all of their enclosures; those we find interesting, we check out by phone to establish they're who they say they are, then respond in kind if it's impossible to meet more-or-less immediately. We usually try for a "social" meeting on neutral ground before we decide to party or not.

It is from this river of mail (we have to take at least one evening a week to answer it) that we get our most interesting, frequently surprising adventures .. and some of our dearest friends, with some of the most unusual tastes!

Take Greg for instance. Greg's specialty is jacking off, with an audience. Conventional sex, while indulged in by him, takes a definite backseat to making love to his hand while being watched. Tim and I, the first time he came over to our place, stayed clothed, had him undress, sit across from us, and stroke himself until he exploded. Since then, I've photographed him jacking off out in the woods, Tim's photographed him masturbating in our livingroom with me, clothed (although scantily) in each picture, watching him Do His Thing. I have a videotape and a set of photos of Tim and Greg, naked, side by side, BOTH jerking themselves for a watching, dressed Lucy .. and, most recently, Millie used the videotape camera to do a feature of me laying on the livingroom floor, naked except for thigh-highs and heels, fingering myself while Tim, Greg and Eddie stood in a semi-circle around me, playing with themselves and, finally, coming all over my body. I came myself when they started shooting off. (Commented Millie later, "What a waste.” "Speak for yourself," I demurred).

Then there's Mark, who "suffers" from what he calls "Crotch-in-Mouth Disease.” Mark, who swears his sex organ must be in his tongue, is never happier than when he has someone's pubes in his mouth, and he doesn't much care if the owner is male, female or undecided.

Which means he loves having both of us naked, side-by-side on the bed, while he takes his sweet time moving back and forth between us, eating my cunt and sucking Tim's cock (the only thing I enjoy more than watching a guy blowing Tim is to watch Tim mouthing a dong himself, and I don't even bother trying to figure out why). He makes it last a delightfully long time before he lets us explode, generally me first to that I can bask in that wonderful post-come afterglow as I watch my husband buck and writhe in his orgasm, which Mark swallows hungrily.

Lydia .. is a special case, in many ways. To begin with, she is an exception (although not the only one) to our general rule that our playmates either be single, married to each other or, if married to someone who doesn't want to play around, that the "out" partner has made it clear to us that they have no objections to their husband/wife joining us. (Lucy, the 19-year-old, is married to a young Marine who’s overseas for a couple of years; their letters to each other are full of their sexual adventures, even photos of each other in action. I can tell you from experience gained while he was home on leave that he fucks like a marvelous machine. When the Marines made THIS man, they did a good job of it!).

Anyway, Lydia is "cheating" on her husband, who's a nice, hard-working, sexually unimaginative guy who provides for his wife and three children in every one except one: in the sack. Actually, even were he not so hide-bound in his moral code, he wouldn't stand a chance with Lydia because she discovered, quite by chance, that she's a "closet lesbian" who's never had a male-induced climax in her life, not even from Tim's skillfully-marauding mouth. Because of the children -- and because, at bottom, her husband's a nice guy -- she stays married and does her best to make him think she’s happy as a lark .. but, every few weeks, she comes over to spend a couple of hours back in the bedroom with me. Tim has been present for a couple of our get-togethers but, because she feels uncomfortable with him there (just by virtue of his being a male, not because they don't get along: they do -- OUT of the bedroom), he usually stays elsewhere in the house until we've worn each other out.

One of our favorite couples is Mike and Marilyn. About every six weeks, boredom starts to set in, fueled by their twin offbeat urges. When they come over, we greet them stark naked (well .. you know what I'm wearing..), they sit, have a drink, and enjoy looking at us doing likewise for awhile -- although Tim and I throw in a few kisses and intimate caresses for effect (and fun) -- before they can't stand it anymore. Standing, they undress and move to us where we're sitting on the couch. Kneeling, they use their mouths on us, leisurely, working us slowly to delightful orgasms .. Marilyn eating me, Mike sucking Tim. Once they've gotten us both off, they're so excited themselves that they roll over on the floor and fuck the skin off each other while we watch the fun!

There are a number of couples we know who fall into a surprisingly sizeable swinging sub-culture, the "watch and be watched" set. The name means just what it says: for their own reason (which range all over the map), they don’t want to get involved in the final intimacy of changing partners, at least not for intercourse, although foreplay is sometimes on the agenda, but they DO enjoy being an audience and DO enjoy having one themselves. You can imagine the fun we have with THIS group!

We have so many wonderful, excitingly DIFFERENT friends! There's Mervyn, my hairdresser, who's delightfully gay and loves partying with Tim. He finds my approval -- my encouragement, even -- of what's going on "..so refreshing!” (in his words) that he not only lets me stay and watch, but even allows me to take pictures and, more recently, shoot videotapes.

Mervyn had his first shot at Tim while my darling was not just tied up, but his legs were up, spread, and tied to ring-bolts in the walls! Last week, we re-created that fun night -- only, without telling Tim until it was too late for him to do anything about it, Mervyn brought two of his friends along and they ALL worked Tim over. Wow!

Then there’s Nell who, like Tim, is into submission and restraint -- on the receiving end. Nell's husband, Larry, and I have fun cooking up different, frequently sensually frustrating experiences for the two of them.

There was the first night we partied together, for instance, when we tied each of their wrists together behind their respective backs, after stripping them in front of each other. Then, as each watched what was happening to the other, I worked Tim up to a fever pitch with my hands and mouth, while Larry used his fingers to get Nell begging for relief. Once we got the two of them worked up to where we wanted them, we told them that any pleasure they got that night would be from each other .. just the way they were. Then Larry and I got comfortable, gave orders, and watched the fun.

Another night, we had a number of our friends over but, before they got there, we put Tim and Nell on the bed, Tim's wrists tied together and fastened to the headboard, his ankles together to the footboard. Nell, by his side, had her wrists together and back behind her head like Tim's, but her legs were spread wide, her left ankle tied to Tim's joined ones, her right to the corner of the bed.

When our friends showed up, we told them that Nell and Tim were fair game for ANYTHING they wanted to do to them, except unfasten them; it's remarkable what a group of uninhibited sex hounds can do to two people who can’t move an inch in their own defense.