Introduction
It all started innocently enough, one lunchtime...
It was during one of their customary, weekly lunchtime meetings at the Old Bull, a quaint little hostelry in the village. The Bull was a popular meeting place - a pub-cum-restaurant-cum-inn - and a major gathering venue in their quiet little community in the heart of the West Sussex countryside, but still within commuting distance from London, where their husbands worked (at 'something in the city').
The ladies knew each other from the various social and charitable associations active in the area, such as the WI and the local Golf Club, or through their husbands' professional and social activities. Some of their husbands were colleagues In 'The City' and so the ladies were acquainted for many years.
They were all ladies of leisure, from well-to-do middle-class backgrounds and had agreed, some years ago, to meet once a week for lunch.
Was it a respite from their endless round of committees and voluntary activities or, perhaps, it was the boredom of their privileged existence?
For the most part, the conversation revolved around trivial banalities such as the family holidays, or problems with the 'au pair', so that when the subject of 'sex' came up, it was like a bombshell that shook and unsettled their ostensibly bland, orderly, and uneventful suburban ethos.
No-one now remembers how it came up, it was probably in the context of marital infidelity, or wife-swapping or some such thing.
Anyway, during the frenzied discussion that followed, Brooke Osmond had confessed that she and her husband had once been 'unsuspecting participants' in an impromptu 'swinger' party. Brooke was a relatively recent member of their group, and this had occurred before they moved to the area.
The rest of the ladies were titillated and enthralled, as Brooke related the events of that evening three years previously. Brooke's husband was English, and she was American.
Brooke spoke with a Mid-western, accent in a free-and-easy, 'down home' style, which gave her narrative an even more remote, other-worldly aspect as they listened to her tale unfold.
Brooke went into the titillating detail of her night of steamy 'swap sex' with the muscular well-endowed Simon, and so, setting the precedent that was to shape their weekly lunches, thereafter.
It was agreed that each week, one of them would reveal some deep, dark, dirty personal secret, as the price of admission to the lunch.
However, in order to protect the confidentiality and privacy of the participants, it was considered fitting that a more private venue would have to be chosen.
The general consensus was that local pub was not an appropriate location for a confessional so, consequently, it was agreed, that after the lunch, each lady in turn would host the others to coffee at home. when 'all would be revealed' in more discreet and comfortable surroundings.
Part 1: The Brooke Osmond Story
Well, we'd just recently moved into the neighbourhood. It isn't around here, and don't ask me the location, because I want to be discreet and respect the confidentiality of the people involved.
About a month after we'd moved in, my husband Tony, and I were invited to a party by Janet and Simon, our neighbours across the road from us. Seeing as we were new to the area, the party was an opportunity to meet the neighbours, and others from the locality.
The party was going well, and the drink was flowing smoothly, but I couldn't help but notice that Janet was blatantly flirting with Tony. She was all over him, during the slow, smoochy dances, her arms clasped around his neck and provocatively grinding her body against his crotch.
I'm not the jealous type, but what struck me was that her husband, Simon, appeared to be totally non-plussed by his wife's brazen, unseemly behaviour, which he couldn't have helped but notice. Instead, he was lavishing a lot of attention on me! He's a good-looking guy so, it was very flattering for a forty-something woman like me.
Full disclosure: I am eight years older than Tony. I was thirty-three and Tony was in his mid-twenties when we married.
Janet and Simon were in their mid to late thirties, and both very attractive. They owned and ran the local gym and fitness centre so, you can imagine they were both in great physical shape!
Janet was tall, sinewy, and shapely in all the right places. Simon wasn't, what you'd call a 'Mr. Universe', but he had well-developed biceps and broad shoulders, with a flat wash-board stomach and, as it turned out, very well hung!
The throng of revellers was gradually thinning out as the evening wore on. Couples started to depart, and though I didn't know everyone there, I had the distinct impression that people were leaving with partners other than the ones they had arrived with.
When all the guests had finally departed, there was just the four of us left: me and Tony, and Janet and Simon. It was at this point that our neighbours' intentions became crystal clear.
Janet, just came straight out and proposed that, in view of how well we got on that evening, why don't we swap partners for the night?
This was a strange, new situation for Tony and me, though we were not totally unprepared.
Tony requested a few minutes 'time-out'. He said that it was the first time that we found ourselves in this predicament so, he and I needed to talk it over, before we could give them a definitive answer.
They were very gracious hosts and Simon replied that we could take as much time as we needed. In any case, Janet said, there was a lot of clearing away and tidying up to do, so they'd get on with that, until we'd decided.
I interjected and appealed to Janet not to rush with the clearing up, and that we'd happily give them a hand.
Now, the truth is, Tony and I considered that we had an 'open' relationship, although we had always been faithful to each other in the fifteen years we'd been married.
Even though the circumstances to test our fidelity had never arisen, we had often discussed how we would react if we ever found ourselves in exactly such a dilemma.
We had agreed, in principle, that given the circumstances, neither of us would object to a one-off, casual, extra-marital fling by the other, so long as it was done with the full knowledge and consent of both parties - no lies, no subterfuge - honesty and openness above all!
After all, the objective would not be to embark on a new, long-term emotional relationship, but just a brief, recreational diversion with the full knowledge and understanding of the nature of the transaction by all concerned.
So, there was only one question for which the answer is a binary "Yes" or "No":
To me: do you fancy him? To him: do you fancy her?
And so, huddled together, to one side and out of earshot of our hosts, the answer in both instances, was a resounding, "YES"!
It was a case of deal done! Game on! We turned to our hosts and delivered our decision in unison:
"Yes, we'd love to!"
Janet squealed and leapt up and down with joy then, after they'd embraced each other, Janet leapt on Tony and hugged him, and Simon embraced and kissed me.
He whispered,
"I hope this will be the first of many unforgettable nights!"
The men high-fived and patted each other on the back, and Simon gave Tony some grounding on swap etiquette.
For example, use of a condom is mandatory; as for the sex, everything goes but within the limits of what the woman will allow or accept to perform.
We seemed to be getting carried away in the euphoria of the moment, until I remembered my promise to help with the clearing up, and blurted out:
"Come on, guys, let's get the clearing up done so that we can go to bed!"
"Oh, fuck the clearing up, let's hit the sack! We'll clear up in the morning."
Janet exclaimed.
She instructed Simon, and Tony to collect any glasses and plates that might be dotted around the garden, and that she and I would retire to our respective bedrooms, to wait for them.
"Is that cool with you, Brooke?"
