Tammy and I have been married for almost eight years. We met when we were nineteen and were married two years later. Our sex life has been around longer than that. We've always had a good relationship with frequent and adventurous sex. Before marriage we took advantage when we could. We both still lived at home and sex in the same house as our parents was dicey. We spent a lot of time outdoors. Often we would have sex in the car, behind a bush or under a blanket at the beach. Some of our more exciting efforts included on a park picnic table, on a trail in a national park and on a packed dance floor.
Things got less exciting after we were married but more frequent. We had an apartment and a bed which made everything easier. Easier also meant less risky. Over time we developed a pattern that eventually led to expectations and a rhythm that often meant predictability. In other words, we had sex on the weekends, once or twice during the week, usually Wednesday, and on holidays or special events like birthdays or our anniversary.
It was in this environment that Tammy, after breakfast one Saturday morning, said, "Dave, we have to talk."
Now, the "we have to talk" phrase is well known to most married men and it usually doesn't mean something good. The phrase is pregnant with meaning. It's always the woman who initiates communication using this introduction. It means she's been thinking about something for a while, has it all sorted out in her mind and is ready to spring it on her mate. She's identified the problem and her preferred solution. She's organized her thoughts, prepared her presentation, anticipated objections and rehearsed her responses. She's ready to talk and her target isn't, so she expects to catch her man by surprise and she's prepared to wait a short time while her target tries to guess the topic and prepare a suitable defense.
In my experience, it's never a good idea to put off the conversation, so I said in return, "Okay, is now a good time?" This response was calculated to catch her off guard in the hope she really wasn't fully rehearsed and might accidentally hint at the subject giving me some time to gather my thoughts.
It didn't work this time. Tammy was ready to talk. "Dave," she said. "I've been thinking about our sex life."
"Are you bored?" I asked.
"No. I'm never bored. You're as good in bed as you ever were. I have been thinking, though, that it seems so predictable. You know, Saturday, Sunday, Wednesday, Saturday again. We're in some kind of rut."
I pretended to think. She was right but I didn't want to agree to soon. I figured she already had a proposal that I probably wanted to hear but I wanted her to sell it to me. If I had a suggestion or two, then she'd be ready to negotiate.
"I see your point," I finally said. "Do you want to rekindle some of the adventure, like before we were married?" I asked.
"No. I'm not thinking of rushing out to have sex on the nearest park bench. That's an act of desperation and I'm not desperate. However, our routine does have the feel of Groundhog Day and I think I'd like to change that."
"I agree but the schedule developed over time as our lives became more organized with work and social commitments. A lot of the schedule is out of our control," I suggested.
"I agree. I'd thought of that myself and I think that maybe we need to address some other aspect of the routine."
"I assume you have a suggestion. Fill me in."
"Okay. If we can't change the schedule easily, maybe we need to change the game."
"How would we do that?"
"I thought we might play with another team."
That got my attention. Even though the topic was sex, and I might propose introducing additional female bodies to the mix, I never expected the suggestion to come from Tammy. "Are you suggesting we seek additional sex partners and are they cooperative or competitive additions?"
"The thought had crossed my mind too," she said. "And cooperative is definitely the approach. I don't even know what 'competitive' means."
"I see how that might spice things up a little. Are we considering swinging or something else?"
"Not swinging," Tammy clarified. "I can't see either of us having anonymous sex in some stranger's dark basement den."
"What does something else look like then?" I asked.
"Funny you should ask. I've been researching the possibilities on the internet."
No surprise there.
"There are thousands of web sites catering to people who want to have sex with someone other than their significant others. There are cheating sites, swinging sites, prostitution sites, fetish sites, BSDM sites, LBGTQ sites and others with mysterious criteria. However, I did find several sites that seem to cater to couples who want to connect with other couples socially with the possibility of sex if the relationships work out."
"So you signed us up?"
"No. I wanted to talk to you first. I'm not looking for a solution that doesn't include both of us."
"So where are we?"
"I settled on a site that looks promising. I was able to view sample profiles but nothing with identifying or contact information or pictures. I need to sign up to get further and you have to agree before I do."
"I'm okay with doing some research but I have a few suggestions."
"Okay, I'm listening."
"First, get an anonymous contact email address, something on AOL or Gmail for example. Something you can delete or change if it attracts unwanted attention. Second, use an anonymous name and location and avoid pictures until you develop a relationship that seems trustworthy. And, finally, don't get too anxious. Temper your screen responses until you feel comfortable before you share more personal information."
"Thanks, I'll get right on it."
"Don't get too anxious. No need to rush. You've still got me."
"I do and a good got it is."
Tammy was back an hour later, all smiles. She sat on my lap, nibbled my ear and squirmed her pretty ass against my growing erection. "You seem excited," I stated obviously. "Found a possibility already?"
"No, but I've got a few nibbles," she said as she nibbled my ear as a demonstration. She was upbeat and in heat. One thing led to another and then something more. Two hours later, we lay alongside each other, naked, sweaty and out of breath. "Wow," she said. "That was intense."
"It was," I responded. "And that's just thinking about it. Can you imagine the impact of actually connecting with another couple?"
Two weeks later, Tammy had a real possibility. She showed me a profile and a couple of photos the other couple had provided. I agreed it was worth pursuing. She took a selfie of us together and kissed me. An hour later, she sat in front of the computer naked and sent it to the prospective connection.
Things progressed rapidly after that and we had a dinner engagement the following Saturday evening at a restaurant about forty miles from home. We got there early and sat at the bar watching the front door. We watched an older couple enter the restaurant and look at the couples seated at tables. They were led to a table while we watched.
They were older than we expected. Tammy theorized that the pictures they sent were at least ten, maybe fifteen, years old. The gentleman was fifty pounds heavier with a friar's fringe of gray hair. His partner had dyed hair, too much makeup and at least thirty extra pounds of her own. Neither of them appealed to either of us.
We managed to leave discretely. Tammy was disappointed. I rubbed her thigh as we drove to our favorite restaurant for a consolation dinner. I told her not to obsess too much. The perfect couple was sure to surface. By the time we got home, she was more upbeat. She sent them an apologetic email, deleted the email account, created a new one, a new online profile and came to bed wet with the possibilities.
Lighting struck quickly. By Tuesday, she had a picture of another couple. They looked to be in their middle thirties. Tammy figured out how to read the picture's metadata and it was a recent photo. Their profile read like a duplicate of ours. She set up a dinner date for the following Saturday.
Saturday evening we sat in the bar with a view of the front door of the restaurant. When the couple entered, Tammy sat up quickly and stared. She squirmed on her stool as if she was slightly wet. I punched her lightly on her arm. "Down girl," I said.
Dante, looked to be a fit, mid thirties male with everything in the right place and a full head of hair. Darcy, his significant other, was equally attractive, if you consider the largest breasts I'd ever seen attractive. "Down yourself," Tammy cautioned as she put her hand on my crotch. "She does have other assets," she added.
Tammy went to the lady's room and, when she returned, we went and introduced ourselves. Dinner was superb. We sat in a corner booth with the ladies in the middle with Dante and me on the ends. Between dinner and dessert, the ladies excused themselves to do whatever ladies do. When they returned, they were still seated in the middle next to each other except Tammy was next to Dante and Darcy was next to me.
The conversation had wandered all over, from the usual getting to know you comments to something more significant during dessert and coffee. Tammy and Darcy carried most of the conversation. Dante and I exchanged a few comments but real conversation was difficult with us on the ends and the two, animated women between us. The women carried on as if they had been friends forever. By the time coffee arrived, Darcy had one hand on my thigh without missing a beat talking with Tammy. I thought Tammy's hand was similarly positioned on Dante's thigh. It had the feel of a planned arrangement. These women had known each other for less than two hours and they were already double-teaming us.
The waiter brought the check and Dante took it before I could get to it. He refused to allow me to either pay or share the expense. While we were waiting for the waiter to return with the receipt, Dante suggested we reconvene at a club he knew a short distance away. Tammy accepted before I could think of a response.
I followed Dante and Tammy to the club in my car with Darcy sitting close next to me.
Dante parked, opened the passenger door for Tammy and led her into the club. I parked several spots away and turned off the car. Before I could open my door, Darcy touched my arm. I turned to look at her with some difficulty keeping my eyes up.
"Like what you see?" asked Darcy.
Lying would have been foolish. "I do," I whispered.
Darcy held up her breasts, one in each hand. "I have other assets," she said.
"I'm sure you do," I said.
"You haven't noticed have you?" she asked.
"I have but, I admit, I'm distracted by what's up front."
Darcy laughed. "We better go inside before someone wonders what we're doing out here."
