Even after twenty years, I remember the first time swapping came into our conversation. Cathy and I had been married only a year or so, but she was always receptive to talking about pushing the sexual envelope. She had been that way even before we were married. She often went braless, giving (accidentally?) down blouse views to those who looked, flirted fairly aggressively, and even suggested buying Penthouse and reading the letters while we waited for her mother at the airport, and then letting me figure out where to put the magazine when her mother walked toward us. The same behavior followed our wedding.
One night in bed we somehow began talking about fantasies, which eventually led to talk about swapping with other couples. We discussed our friends as possible swap partners. She maintained she might actually do it if we found the right couple. That, of course, was the road block. We really had no couples we were attracted to as couples, and none seemed to be the type of people who would actually be into swinging. One of those couples we discussed was Stan and Pam, the couple who had introduced us. We liked them both and had spent a lot of time with them both before and after our marriage. We went out to dinner, spent time at each other's houses, and found them to be a comfortable, fun couple. Pam was a minister's daughter, and, while they were out-going, we couldn't figure out a reasonable approach to gauge their reactions to the idea. In the end, we passed it off as a fantasy with little chance of happening. One night, however, we saw how wrong we were.
One Saturday night we met at Stan and Pam's house for dinner. Pam had prepared a great chicken stir-fry, and the bottle of wine we brought was soon finished. After clearing the table, we all gathered around the fireplace with one of Stan's rum punch concoctions in had. As usual, we talked about most everything going on at work, in the world, and in our lives. Somehow the conversation turned to the topic of women's dress. The rum had begun to work its magic, I guess, so, without much forethought I blurted out, "It's my opinion that 80% of the women I know or have seen should never wear a bra. That would be an interesting world to live in!"
I heard a couple of chuckles, but was immediately aware of Cathy's side-long look that meant "What are you on about? Why did you say that?"
I thought I might be in trouble, but Stan seemed to be on the same page. He had that lop-sided smile of his as his eyes widened slightly. "I might go along with you on that, but all those women wouldn't. I mean, it looks like even Cathy is wearing a bra and I don't believe you would like it much if she took it off, either."
"Shows how much you know," I countered. "Cathy goes braless a lot, and it always turns me on, especially when we are out and about. I know Pam never went braless. It would be harder for her to get away with it and, as shy as she is, do you think she would do it? In any case, the situation could be easily remedied, and my point proven."
To this point, Stan and I were talking to each other. We dared not look at the girls, who had stopped talking. We both though we might be getting in too deep, risking at least a verbal rebuke, and maybe a slap as well.
The silence lasted several seconds, but the rebuke never came. Instead, Cathy looked at Pam, winked, and motioned to her to stand up. They moved in front of us and exchanged hurried whispers looked at both of us, then whispered some more. They soon reached some sort of agreement. They turned their backs to us and, to Stan's and my amazement, they slowly began to take off their tops. I could see Pam's hands moving along the line of her blouse, and Cathy putting her hands at the bottom of her spaghetti strap top. As Pam moved down the front of her blouse, Cathy started to raise her top. Stan and I exchanged hurried, questioning looks. Were our wives actually going to go through with this? How far do we want this to go? I assumed Stan felt as I did—let them take it as far as they dared!
When Pam had undone her last button, Cathy had her top up to her bra strap. They looked at each other a moment, nodded, then Cathy pulled her top over her head as Pam pulled open her shirt and let it fall from her shoulders. Both our wives were standing with their backs to us, so there was not much to see, but both had self-satisfied smiles on their faces as they looked at us over their shoulder.
"Wow! That's a great start, isn't it Stan?"
"It's better than that," Stan answered. I could tell from his breathing and his full smile that he was getting into the situation.
The girls looked amused and began to fiddle with the clasps on their bras. I couldn't tell if they were just teasing us, or if they were uncertain how far they were willing to go, and how we would react to our wives topless in front of another man.
I tried to call the bluff, saying "Don't stop now!" When Stan echoed my words, both girls looked at one another and unclasped their bras, letting them drop to the floor with a giggle. They actually did it. They were topless. Although with their backs to us we could only get an outline of the curves of their breasts, I was starting to get hard, and a tent was springing up in Stan's shorts. Cathy has great tits, firm, more than a handful, but well- proportioned and inviting for any man. Pam was bigger. Her tits seemed to slope down, and I knew I would love to see them from the front.
