I wondered, as we prepared to leave for home, whether or not my wife would continue enjoying sex with other men once we were back. I did everything I could to convince her that it would be no different than what she had enjoyed in the past, but I could sense her misgivings. Knowing I would be fighting an uphill battle, I went to work when we still had some time to prepare her for new adventures.
4.
When we arrived back in the States, after several years out of the country, the "sexual revolution" was slowing down, but there was still a feeling of liberty among the swinging community that was refreshing. I was rather concerned about how Linda would react to being home after her past adventures. And I had every right to be. It was almost as though, once we were back in the States, her interest began to wane. I knew I had to do something and fast. That's how we met Clint and Marie.
I had anticipated a problem like this. It's interesting that our ladies will often do things when they are away from home that they might not even consider doing in our own country, and that was the reaction I was running into with Linda. She still had the good memories those friends of ours had given her, but she wasn't too sure that, meeting strangers for the first time with the idea that she would fuck them, was too great. I had started working on it while we were still out of the country and despite what seemed like a paucity of players where we were going to be living, I began corresponding with the one couple who looked most likely to be interested.
As I said, Linda wasn't all that anxious to resume the fun she had experienced with her lovers overseas. It didn't help a great deal that, only days before we were to meet Clint and Marie, my wife fell and broke her arm. We seriously considered backing out at the last minute. We discussed it for what seemed an interminable time, but when Linda saw how insistent I was to at least meet them, she agreed hesitantly.
I think it was curiosity in part. Clint and Marie were the first "real" swingers we were to meet. All the rest we had known up to this point were really just playing around on the edges, but these folks, according to their letters, were into it "heavy duty". Our first contact with them was to be at a restaurant close to their house. We were both too naive to realize that this was the most common pattern - meet at a convenient, cozy place that was intimate, yet public, and go from there, letting things happen as they might.
"Just a chance to meet", Marie had assured Linda, as we talked the last time and explained what was causing us some concern. Marie had been properly sympathetic at the start, offering to make it "another time" if it was going to be a painful experience for Linda. That pretty much put the burden on Linda, and she already knew how I felt. In the end, Linda had assured her that she could make it. I think curiosity was beginning to get the better of her. We were going in basically blind. The exchange of a couple of letters or so, with no pictures, and a couple of phone calls were all we had so far. Would she let a complete stranger fuck her or wouldn't she? I wondered. Linda finished by telling Marie what we would be wearing that evening. Linda's cast would definitely make us easily identifiable.
I was very pleased that Linda had decided to accept. It was becoming obvious that there had been a definite change in my wife since our first mutual swinging experience six months or so ago. Despite her enjoyment of Mike and her other lovers, she was still nervous. Especially with the idea of meeting someone who was a total stranger to her, but apparently now determined to at least find out more about this new life style we were slowly becoming engaged in.
Marie and Clint were not the "beautiful people" everyone so admired in those days. In fact Marie was an obviously matronly housewife with a rather dumpy figure. Clint was much the same, heavier than he should have been, and losing his hair rapidly. Still, what they lacked in appearance, both made up for in personality. Clint met us at the door of the restaurant, shook my hand, and then kissed Linda's cheek as though he had known her for years. He kept up a running line of patter as he, now on my wife's other side, escorted us to the table at the very rear of the restaurant. I couldn't help but notice how dim the lighting was. I later learned to recognize it as the perfect place to meet someone for the same kind of thing we were up to.
Clint deftly steered me into the booth next to his wife while turning Linda to her right and into the booth preceding him. Although it put the girls next to each other, it also put our wives farthest from their spouse. The booth was only large enough to accommodate the four of us comfortably. Marie started a conversation with Linda while we studied the menu, complimenting her on her choice of wardrobe, asking about her arm, and all the other mundane things people can talk about when making idle conversation. We had been there almost twenty minutes before we got down to eating.
The food was delicious, the conversation interesting, and the drinks just enough on the heavy side to insure that any inhibitions that might have been present at first were slowly disappearing. The meal took over an hour to consume, with the conversation going smoothly. I had not seen any indication from Linda, one way or another that anything was happening, so I was surprised when our almost two hour meeting began winding down. With everyone was pleasantly full, Clint ordered "one more for the road". I looked over at Linda. She was smiling. I began to relax as we sat back and began talking about our experiences. I was also surprised when Linda began volunteering information that I had never expected to hear her tell another person about openly as she was doing now. With the end of our drinks in sight, Clint looked at me and suggested that we go to their place "for a nightcap". I suspected that would be a little fast for the way I had expected Linda to react, so I was surprised when she smiled at me and I felt her foot nudge my own, a signal we had prearranged that told me she was willing to go along with what might happen.
There was no hesitancy in her willingness to let Clint escort her from the restaurant, leaving me with Marie who took my arm and joined me readily. It was only a short drive to their home. To keep us from getting lost, Clint smiled, "why don't you and Marie go together in your car. Linda and I will go in ours". It seemed reasonable, so, after handing our ladies into the cars, we followed Clint and Linda out of the parking lot.
"I'm so glad that we could get together tonight," Marie said, sliding closer once we were on the road, and taking my arm. I put it over her shoulders and felt her slide even closer until I could feel the heat of her body against my own. Taking my hand, she pulled it over her breast and pressed it to the warm flesh beneath as her other hand came to rest on my thigh. "This is going to be something Linda will enjoy," she murmured, smiling at me as my hand squeezed her breast gently, "and me too." Her hand moved back, gently caressing my already hardening cock, stopping, and then gently applying her own light grip. "Oh, yes," she added breathlessly, "I'm really going to enjoy this!" I swallowed hard. I knew I would!
Clint and Linda were already in the house and sitting together by the time that I had parked our car in their drive, gotten a promising kiss from Marie that took even longer than either of us had expected, and joined our mates. We walked in on them as Clint was kissing my wife, his hand already squeezing one of her luscious boobs as his tongue worked its way deep into her mouth. I was a little surprised at how casually Linda was accepting Clint's osculatory efforts and even more at the way she was allowing him to fondle her breast. It was as though she had known him much longer than the couple of hours or so we had spent together in the restaurant, and now at their home.
Shirley might have been surprised too, considering the fact that I had told her we were novice swingers, but she didn't seem to mind a bit that her husband was feeling up my wife right in front of her. Like me, she was probably a closet voyeur at heart. We took a seat on a couch opposite our spouses and resumed where we had left off in the car. It didn't seem to bother her a bit that I was kissing her deeply, pulling her close, my hand draped over her breast and I was fondling her just as Clint was my wife.
There really wasn't a great deal to feel. Marie was apparently wearing one of the cast iron bras that we had discarded from Linda's wardrobe as soon as she had begun her affair with Mike. We both watched as Clint's kisses deepened, his mouth open, working against Linda's. His hand moved up across his body and to her breasts, stroking them slowly and gently, the material bunching beneath his hand as he felt her 40DD's swelling, becoming alive in his hand. I saw them react immediately, the nipples becoming rigid and growing, pressing so tightly that even through her bra and the double knit fabric of her dress, they were plainly outlined. Linda was becoming aroused as I knew she would when Clint got to her tits. I had told Marie in one of our letters that Linda’s breasts were extremely erogenous, much more so than the flesh of her inner thighs that I later found out Clint had been stroking during our meal. Clint knew it for certain now as my wife's mouth opened under his, their throats began working in concert, each one’s tongue searching for the other's.
Marie turned partly toward me and almost whispered, "I don't think we need have any more concerns about those two, do you?" Her smile was an invitation and I took her up on it, my fingers beginning to unbutton her blouse, one button at a time. With her blouse open to the waist, I slipped my hand inside, cupping one of her large, but firm breasts. Our mouths joined, hers already open. There was a little whimper in my mouth when our tongues touched and began a duel for supremacy. She won that. I felt her tongue slide so deeply in mine that I considered backing away, but only for an instant. She was pressing her chest against me, urging my hand to find the source of heat beneath the cup of her bra. I wasted little time doing exactly that, pushing it up over the warm fullness, marveling as I always did at the beauty of a woman's breast. Marie's were heavy, laced with the barely visible veins common to older women. I broke our kiss just long enough to check out Linda's reaction to what I was doing with Marie.
