Would You Mind?

Info adamgunn
29 Oct. '16

"Would you mind," Lynda asked me, "if I went out on a date with Daniel?"

"A date?" My wife was asking me if she could go on a date with a man. "What kind of a date?"

"A date kind of date. You know, drinks, dinner, maybe a movie."

"Anything else?"

"It would sort of depend on what you would mind," she answered, seriously and yet not.

Lynda and I were swingers, had been for a few years. It was my idea to start, Lynda was never what I would call resistant, yet it took over fifteen months for her to agree. It was such a disquieting - and yet exciting - time in our lives. We were in our fifties, the kids were out of the house and she had her worries, the same ones every woman who is thinking of losing her monogamy seems to have. Would we still love each other? Was she sexy enough? How would we find someone? And all the rest.

We eventually resolved our issues, we met a couple on line, they didn't work out. Another couple didn't even bother showing, in the fifth couple we found the trinket we were looking for. 

Jim and Barbara were experienced, we met for drinks, they seemed nice, a few days later we agreed to a second date. At their house we were nervous, they calmed us. Eventually Barbara led me into the guest bedroom, a half hour later as we were making love I heard the clamor of Lynda's shrieks, I knew she was having the same good time I was. Later in our own bed, we told each other of the experiences, screwed each other as hard as we had the others earlier.

We dated Barbara and Jim regularly for a number of months, made it past several hurdles. The first night we all made love in the same room was a trial, as I watched Jim's prick skewer my bride I felt slightly jealous, Barbara said she had a particularly fine time of it. Then it slowed, perhaps it became a little mundane. 

We found other lovers, four couples were intimate with us, each time we took new people our interest peaked. Over two years we'd been in bed with other people perhaps twenty times, we were used to it, we both liked it.

Our latest partners were a younger couple, Daniel and Andrea. We met them at a swing club, it was an off night, few couples were there and we were, apparently, good enough for them. Andrea was just a few years older than my daughter, she apparently didn't mind my age, we had a wild time. At the same time my wife was entertained by Daniel, ruggedly rakish, twenty years her junior. As I always do, I watched them as I screwed Andrea, he put my wife in positions I'd rarely thought of before, much less attempted. As I grunted my seed into my youngster, the other couple wasn't close to finishing. After a few seconds of calming with me, Andrea left my mattress, approached the others, fused into the efforts. At the time Lynda had been introduced to girl/girl play, but she and Andrea took it to a new level, kissing and touching and even performing oral sex on each other. It wasn't the first time Lynda had been involved with another woman, but this certainly was the apex of her involvement so far. And even when the two women were clasping each other, Daniel was there, feeling Lynda's breasts or ass, letting her suck on his prick, pinioning her, and, yes, impaling her with his rod. My wife cried in excitement, in amusement, in passion as these champions screwed her silly.

From the safety of the other mattress I watched, and when Andrea rejoined me, trying to get my rather ancient libido to resurrect itself, I still watched Daniel and Lynda as they joyfully enacted naked aerobatics. When he added his strong grunts to her hawklike calls, I knew she was being filled with his warm broth. 

Quickly upon the accomplishment of Lynda's copulation with her lover, Andrea squeezed herself into the skimpy clothes she'd worn and departed the room. Yet Daniel and my spouse seemingly felt no desire to uncouple. They continued to cuddle, his hands roamed her body, she kissed him fervidly. I could have joined them, I guess, left my mattress to become part of the sprightliness, but a strange aura warned me I might not be welcome, and so I observed my wife as she rekindled the passion. His prick was suckled anew, her clitoris was aggravated by finger and mouth to a renewal of zenith, she welcomed Daniel as he spread her legs with his knees, climbed into position, penetrated her again.

Perhaps they ignored me, perhaps they simply weren't aware of my presence, but neither looked to me, they seemed lost in their own world. As he thrusted himself deeply, she swayed back and forth on her posterior, accepting this strange man completely. She came loudly and often, if Daniel had a second orgasm it was quiet and unobtrusive. And then came a second quiet time, his body overflowing hers, and they made a silent decision to disentangle.

It was then that Daniel looked to me, said, "You've got a really wonderful woman here, thanks for sharing."

"You too," I agreed, "tell Andrea I had a really good time." He began to pull on his trousers, Lynda joined him in the activity, soon the three of us were dressed, left the room. Lynda seemed pleased, tired (as she had every right to be,) and quenched. She seemed uninterested in immersion in the hot tub, another drink, a trip to the dance floor. A short time later, I opened the car door for her.

Her demeanor was dreamy, she asked, "Did you like Andrea?"

"Yeah, she was interesting. You had a real good time with Daniel."

"Yes." Lynda seemed to not to want to dissect the evening, something we normally loved to do. But when our front door was locked behind us and the lights were off, she assailed me. As she mounted me, I wondered if she was thinking of me or the roué she'd let take her earlier. Again she powerfully came, the dampness of her womb - some of it his - drove me to the second orgasm of the night. Then we slept.

I remember the lovely time after we woke was filled with her descriptions of our experience. "He seemed to fill me up completely." "I loved the way he kissed me." "Andrea seemed very sweet to you." "God, that was great!" And we resolved to try to see them again.

Unfortunately, for the next month Lynda received nothing but excuses, although Daniel insisted they'd like to get together again. And then, nothing was heard from them for over half a year.

We had more, other lovers during that period. We renewed our erotic relationship with Jim and Barbara. We met another couple on-line, invited them to our home, took them to separate rooms then ate peach pie naked in the living room. Twice at the swing club couples more our age picked us up. At my urging, Lynda went into a room with a single woman and although Rachel didn't mind if I touched her, she was much more into Lynda than I, I screwed my wife while the two women were entangled. It seemed that the single night with Andrea and Daniel was forgotten. 


The evening came when, in the warmth of our bed, Lynda asked, "Would you mind if I went out on a date with Daniel?"

"A date? What kind of a date?"

"A date kind of date. You know, drinks, dinner, maybe a movie."

"Anything else?"

"It would sort of depend, on just what you would mind." This was a deviation from our sexual patterns. Never before had either of us had a date without the other, our playtime had always involved both of us. As I hesitated, Lynda continued, "If you don't want me to, I won't."

My mind was on fire. "What about Andrea?"

"She and Daniel aren't seeing each other any longer. He says he doesn't have a steady girlfriend."

"And he just asked you, out of the blue?"

"Well, we've texted each other every once in awhile. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course I don't." Lynda was the communicator in our marriage.

"I'll show you them, if you like."

"Is there anything sexual?"

"No, not really. Oh, he's told me I'm good looking, but nothing more than that."

I paused again, played with her nipples to cover my hesitation. "Would you like to go on a date with him?"

"Only if you wouldn't mind."

"But if I didn't mind, you'd like to?"

"I think I would," she admitted.

"And if you did . . . if you met him one night . . . would you want to go to bed with him?"

"I really don't know," Lynda claimed, and I tended to believe her. "I'd just like to see what it's like, to be out to dinner with him. Maybe, if you didn't mind, and I felt okay with it, maybe I'd let him take me home. I've thought about that, of course, but I'm not sure if that's something I'd want to happen. In a way, it would feel like cheating."

I loved my wife, in the couple of years we'd been meeting strangers I hadn't minded that she'd been intimate with other men, as she didn't mind I had a great time screwing their wives. Jealousy had poked us both in the karma a few times early in our exploits, but that seemed behind us now. I knew - I knew! - that if Lynda found herself in Daniel's arms outside my presence, it wouldn't be because she wanted him more than me. Or, at least, I knew she'd come back to me willingly. There seemed no reason to deny her this request.

So I said, "Sure, if you want to see Daniel again, go ahead. Just let me know when the date is going to happen." And with a slight amount of trepidation in my voice I added, "And if you want to go back to his place after dinner, go ahead."


The proposed night of Lynda's date arrived, a Friday evening, and I watched with both merriment and dismay as she prepared for it. In the days leading up she either wouldn't talk about it, or she couldn't stop herself from mentioning it. When we'd go to meet a couple she always did her utmost to look the most attractive she could, but she took the art to the mountain peak for this event. When I got home from work on the night of the assignment she was already there, in the bath, primping and shaving and bobbing her cocoa hair. I was able to glimpse her licorice bra and panties before she covered them with a brand new little - very little - black dress. Her eyes and lips were perfectly made up, her earrings, necklace and bracelet were of gold. She kissed me before she walked out of the door at 7:15, I told her to have the best time she could.

And then, I waited.

I tried to watch the game on television, I tried to distract myself with the computer, but no matter how I strived my mind kept returning to the activities of the love of my life. She'd told me where they were going to have dinner, an upscale bistro with a view, I pictured her and Daniel sipping wine, dining on fresh fish, feeding each other desert. Were they holding hands now, whispering into each other's ear, tempting each other? I pictured them walking to his car, that first kiss, tongues meeting deep in the cavity of their mouths. At 10:00 I surmised they were at his house, she was standing in front of him as he slid the last vestiges of clothing from her naked body. Her breasts were crowned with obscenely firm nipples, his penis was pointing towards her. Even though I'd seen it live, I fantasized it was now huge, double my own size, as large as the chocolate dildo Lynda rarely used because it stretched her too far, made her sore for days afterwards.

I visualized they were cavorting all through his home, on the coffee table, standing in the kitchen. There was no position he wasn't screwing her in, cowgirl, doggie, missionary. Would he be the first, other than me, to have her anally? And I heard her cries of rapture as he screwed her, saw her face in that terrible mask of frenzy, watched as he pumped gallon after gallon of his spunk deep into her elemental crevice. 

I was sweating, imagining all this, worried he'd satisfy her so thoroughly she'd never return to me, but all through this enviable nightmare, my own genitals retained the solidity of bronze. At 10:30 I worried she'd want to stay at his house for the night, cavort further in the morning, and I detested that thought. My decision was I'd give her until one in the morning, then text - call if she didn't answer the message - and beg her to come home.

But I was surprised to hear the whine of her car in the driveway. "You're home early," I gratefully observed as she came to my embrace. Every hair of her head was perfectly placed, her makeup hardly mussed.

"It's almost eleven," she protested.

"I thought . . . Did you have a nice time?"

"Yes, very good. I brought most of my salmon home, you can have it tomorrow if you like. Daniel said to tell you hello. He was very funny, made me laugh." She turned her back to me. "Unzip me, please. We talked forever, he asked me all about my childhood, seemed very interested." She stood in front of me, her breasts encased in the sheerest nylon, reached behind her to unclasp and discard it.

She pushed me back onto the sofa as I'd fantasized Daniel had done to her, I pulled her panties down revealing her soft labia.

"Did you . . .?"

"No. I got into his car after we left the restaurant, we kissed."

"Why . . .?"

"He invited me, but I was a little concerned about you. I got the feeling before I left that you were worried about it, so I didn't."

She had me naked by this time, she pushed me back, vaulted on to me, we were linked. And just before she came for the first time, she added, "But I wanted to."


The hour was early, the day was a Tuesday, we were both in the kitchen gulping coffee and toast, getting ready for the rides to work. "Daniel texted me last night, said he'd like to take me to lunch."


"And I'd like to go. Would it bother you?"

"Of course not. Have a good time. Just lunch?"

"Just lunch."

We talked about it that night, it was 'just' lunch. But Lynda had a certain aura about her when she discussed the interaction, I was sure she was having thoughts. When she asked if I'd mind if she had more lunches with him, I saw no reason not to say 'sure.' And if the lunch turned into something more, I was sure it would be happy for all of us.

Over the six weeks the lunches and cocktail hours continued, if I didn't know about the meeting beforehand I was informed immediately by text, I felt completely filled in. I stopped asking if there was anything more involved than food or alcohol, I was confident that's all there was. Oh, it was possible I guess, for the two of them to spend a private hour together, but why would Lynda bother to keep it from me? She knew she had my leave to take any liberties she desired. 

Nor did this infatuation have implications beyond the daytime. One night Barbara and Jim invited us to their house, when the time came Lynda seemed anxious to let him strip her clothes off, had no compunctions about the sex, Jim (as always) complimented me on having a very wonderful wife.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, Lynda and I were lying naked in the bed wondering who was going to put the coffee on, when I decided to push the barrier. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

"Yes, you're still as good as you used to be. Stop fishing for compliments."

"No, not that. About Daniel." Her face turned from cheerful to somber. "What's going on with him?"

"You know, we're just getting together every once in a while for lunch or drinks."

"Just that?"

"Nothing more."

"Don't you want to? Doesn't he want to?"

"Oh, it's complicated honey. We've talked about it. The thing is, we're becoming friends. And we don't know if we want to mess that up or not."

"But you've already . . ."

"Yes, there was that one night, at the swing club. And you know how fantastic I thought that was. But, well, I'm not really sure how to explain this. You know, when we get together with a couple, we all know what's going to happen. I don't care that you're making love with her, you don't mind I'm having fun with him. That's all it is, fun. We all know in an hour we'll put our clothes on and go home with our spouses. It's easy. But with Daniel, I'd be alone with him. I'm not sure that's okay."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"What if he made me feel something, inside, that I don't feel for you? That's as bad as cheating, isn't it?"

"I don't think it would be cheating. You aren't cheating with the other guys, I'm not cheating with the girls, you weren't cheating with Daniel that one time. So why not?"

"You aren't worried about me falling in love with Daniel? I'm worried that could happen."

"Would you want to leave me if you did fall in love with Daniel?"

"Oh! No! Never! I'd never leave you."

"So I don't see the problem. Maybe you will fall in love with him, but you'll still be in love with me. And, if it happens, we'll talk about it. You won't do anything you'll be sorry for, I don't think."

"So you think I should go further with Daniel?"

"I think you should do what you want to. I think you should open yourself up. I'm willing to support you, whatever you want to do. But I'm not telling you what to do."

I could see a softening in her face, a sense of uncertainty in her eyes. Then, "I'll make the coffee."


Another couple of weeks passed, there seemed no modification in the pattern we'd established. She seemed anxious to go to the swing club one Saturday night, once there she flirted with the men as she always did. Another couple was there, Joyce and Tim that we'd met before but never played with. Joyce was a petite blond, Tim a robust brunette, as we danced Joyce invited, "We like you guys. Want to head into a room?" 

The overture was pleasing to me, I wanted to see just what this woman would be like in bed. "Let me ask Lynda."

"Oh, she'll go for it, she already told Tim she was ready if you were."


When I got her aside, Lynda was indeed enthused about the idea - that was the purpose of coming to the club, after all - and we headed for a room that had a king-sized mattress. The dynamic at the club is pretty straightforward, when you enter a bedroom you all know why you're there, clothes are shed like a sudden snowstorm, kisses shared freely. As I handled my naked woman I was elated with the package I had, her breasts were full, the landing strip was soft, the lower lips already wet in anticipation. Joyce bent, as she swallowed my dick I watched my wife in action, she was above Tim, he was licking at her clit, I could see the wildness in her eye that precedes an orgasm. When my head was between Joyce's legs, I had a dim knowledge that Lynda had him inside her mouth, his words were amazed and honeyed. And when I was beside my woman, poking slowly yet deeply into her, Lynda was poised at the side of the bed, Tim behind her, I could watch as my wife's breasts swayed in time to the pounding she was taking. I shifted on Joyce, now she was splayed across my lap, both women were filling the air with cries of purple hue. Tim wasn't loud, but something about his gasps alerted me to the event taking place. I was still quite involved with his wife, but politeness dictates that not too much time elapses between completions, I got Joyce into another position that provided more friction, it didn't take much more for me to let go. 

Within three minutes, the atmosphere in the room turned from blue to calm, Joyce jovially complained, "I don't know why a great screw like that always makes me want to pee," and she danced to the bathroom. Lynda allowed herself to be made the filling of a sandwich, facing Tim as I pressed against her backside, my hands brushed against her as we stimulated her. When Joyce rejoined us, I turned to her, the room was bathed in post-coital serenity. "Do you guys ever have a third guy?" Lynda asked.

"You mean like threesomes?" Joyce responded.

"That. Or maybe just a guy you visit from time to time."

"Joyce has a boyfriend," Tim confided.

"How does that work for you?"

"Pretty well. Joyce likes a lot of sex, if she's horny and I'm out of town or busy, she can go over there and get her fill.”

"Or sometimes, I'm just in the mood for something different, and John will be the ticket," Joyce joked. "Why, are you guys thinking about that?"

"Yeah, there's a guy on our radar."

"Go for it, honey, it's heaven!"

I was wondering if we'd go for round 2, Tim seemed interested and I was willing to make the sacrifice, but when Joyce got into her panties the spell was broken, we dressed and split up with farewell kisses and cries of lets-do-this-again.

We hung around for awhile, there was one single guy who seemed awfully interested in Lynda. She danced with him, I noticed his hand on her ass, and although we'd never really done anything like that before, if Lynda wanted it I would have let her take him into a room. But then she was sitting beside me, saying, "I'm ready to go home if you are."

On the drive home, we talked as always. "Joyce seemed really into you."

"Yeah, she was a nice little piece. Have a good time with Tim?"

"He was all right."

"Just all right? You seemed to come pretty hard."

"Yeah, I had a couple of really good ones. But you know it's not hard to get me there. I didn't mind him, but I found out he really wasn't all that great."

"Maybe that's why Joyce has her guy on the side."


"That single guy wanted you," I remarked.

"He wanted me bad."

"So why didn't you?"

"Would you have minded?"

"No, why would I have?"

"Well, we've never done anything like that before," Lynda commented. "I was thinking it might be fun, having another guy. But I wasn't sure."

"You should have asked. I'd have said yes."

"Damn! Well, next time, I will."

"Would you have wanted me in the room if you did?"

She thought for a moment. "I don't know. At the club, it seems sort of rude to just leave you outside with nothing to do. So, yeah, I think you would have been welcome to watch."

"But if you went over to Daniel's place?"

"I guess I'd want to be alone with him."

"That'd be okay with me, too."


Just three days later, Lynda cornered me at dinner. "We don't have any plans for Friday night, do we?"

"Not that I know of. Why, something you want to do?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind. I had lunch with Daniel, he invited me to his house for dinner, I'll go if it's all right with you."

I didn't have to think about it. It was the first time, as far as I knew, that Lynda would ever be in Daniel's spider web. I realized what was likely to happen, I'd been prepared for this breakthrough for weeks. "Go! Have a great time," I encouraged.

Friday lunch I got a call from my wife. "Listen, I'm just going to go straight over there after work. That okay with you?"

"No problem. If you're going to stay late, text me and let me know, okay?"

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too."

Having nothing else to do, I went over to a sports bar for pub food, as I sipped my beer and watched the game I thought about what was probably happening to my wife. I saw her in his clutches, I visualized them undressing each other, I fantasized Lynda's lips surrounding his huge wand, I hallucinated Daniel's member inserted far into my wife. Yes, I had a boner while I daydreamed. But the terror I'd felt weeks before in a similar situation never developed. I simply had a happy desire to know what Lynda was doing.

When I got home, I tried to watch television, read a magazine, but my antennae were too focused on what was happening miles away. Getting on the computer, checking our account, looking at pictures of naked women, reading porn stories was a little more 'productive,' but my mind kept going to Lynda and - perhaps - her lover. I dozed on the couch, was wakened at 11:20 by the text tone, 'on my way home love u.'

Twenty minutes later I was waiting by the garage door, opening it for my beautiful wife. She was dressed in slacks and blouse, definitely not the clothes she went to work in, a significant number of strands of her hair were out of place, her lipstick was far from sharp. She came to me, kissed me boisterously, I felt her breasts bump into my chest, it was clear she'd forgotten to put her bra on. "I had a great night," she confessed.

"Tell me about it."

"Okay. But get me a glass of water and maybe some wine."

I poured the drinks, getting myself a scotch in the process, and joined her in the living room. "So tell me," I begged.

"I got over there around 6:30. He lives in an apartment in Shadyside, the back of the top floor, he's got a deck he can sit out on. It's quite nice, for a bachelor. He got me a drink, asked if he should put on dinner, I told him to wait awhile. Honey, when I was going over there, I wasn't sure just what would happen, but when I was with him, well, the temptation was just too strong. I hope you don't mind. The first kiss, when he handed me my drink, we both knew. He followed me into the bedroom, and then it happened. He was very, very slow, didn't want to rush it at all. He's got a beautiful dick, did I tell you that? I love sucking on it. It seemed like he ate me for an hour, I kept coming hard, he really knows where my clit is. And then we made love, again it was slow, but it was just five minutes before he came. And there was so much of it, we made a huge puddle on the sheet. He said he hadn't been with anybody since he broke up with Andrea, and he hasn't even masturbated in the last month! We weren't in any hurry, but after awhile I could hear his stomach grumbling so we got up and I made the dinner - really, I could see he was incompetent in the kitchen."

"What were you wearing?"

"He had an apron I put on, nothing else, he was nude."

"Wish I had a picture of that!" I laughed. "Then what?"

"We talked through dinner, he told me some stories of when he was a little boy, after we put the dishes in the washer we went into the living room and it was obvious he was ready to go again. So we fooled around for a long time."

By this time she was down to her skivvies, had my dick out and was swallowing it. Obviously, she couldn't talk and suck at the same time, while she was pleasuring me I thought about her and Daniel in that living room and what they had been doing. When she twisted around, and I could get my finger past her panties, I found her to be as wet as I'd ever felt her. And then when she leaned back on the sofa and I kneeled before her and inserted myself, the slick texture reminded me I was entering a well used spot. "You're full of him," I remarked.

"He came at least three times, he was so ready for me. Is it too much? Should I go clean myself off?"

"Don't you dare!" I laughed, and we proceeded to make a further mess in that lovely, dark spot.

We laid together on the couch, and continued to talk of her exploit. "Did you do anything out of the ordinary?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Standing up. Whips and chains. Whatever."

"No, we didn't. It was all pretty ordinary, I guess. But it was different, too."


"Well, for one thing, we were completely alone. It's different when there's somebody there, even if it's like me with Jim and you and Barbara. Even if we go into separate rooms there's always the thought that maybe you'll be done and will be waiting for me, or are you having fun too. Tonight there was none of those thoughts, I could just concentrate on Daniel, and that was nice. And all guys are different, you know that, girls are different too, right?"

"Absolutely. Else why would we be swingers."

"Well, Daniel seemed to be able to get inside my head, like you do sometimes. He was so slow. And he's very, very good. Not better than you, you're wonderful, just different."

"Do you want to see him again?"

Her face lit up. "We talked about it. He certainly wants me to come over again." A slight amount of hesitation in her manner.

"And you want to see him again. So go ahead. Whenever you want. Just let me know about it, either ahead of time or just before it happens."

"You sure?"

"I want you to have a good time with this. I'm sure."


The next morning I slept in, full of dreams of my seductive wife with other men. Had she been there when I awoke I would have reached for her, but she was missing. Instead I brushed my teeth, found her in the kitchen in a sheer bathrobe on her cell phone, giggling like a teenager. "Oh, he just walked in. I've got to go . . . of course! . . . We'll talk later, bye." 

"Daniel?" I asked.


"He wants you to come over today."

"Yes, but I'm not going to. I'm a little sore today. And we've got to take care of the garden, that means a trip to Lowe's. Eggs?"

The day was spent together, of course I kept thinking of what she'd done the night before, after we took a shower in the afternoon we made love again, then we went to a movie.

On Monday morning she revealed, "I'm going to go over to Daniel's again after work." I agreed easily. Of course as I was sipping my drink that night I thought of what she was doing, it certainly excited me, but there was no tension at all in my psyche. Around seven my phone chimed with Lynda's ring tone, two pictures came to me, one of her naked breasts and a smile, one with her legs spread, waiting to be filled. 'More!' I texted back, and after twenty minutes I got one, taken from above her, she was on her back, there was something very stiff stuffed well up her.

When she got home, it wasn't even nine, I complimented her on the fine photographs, she laughed. "Daniel thought you'd like them when I told him about what you said about the apron."

"I did."

"You know," she remarked, "this is the first time Daniel's ever done anything like this. Andrea sort of led him into the lifestyle, that night was his first time. Oh, he's had his share of women, I'm sure, but they've all been single, in his age group. He's just amazed you let me do this."

"I'd love to watch the two of you sometime," I confessed.

"I'll think about it, I don't think I'm ready, not just yet. Maybe sometime. Right now, could I just have Daniel to myself?"

"Of course, whatever you're comfortable with."

Two weeks later, I knew Lynda was going to be with Daniel for dinner on a Wednesday night, there was leftovers in the refrigerator, a playoff game was on, and I was a little surprised when I got a video call from her. We don't often video. I saw her smiling face, said, "Hi!"

"Hi! Can you see me?"

"You're beautiful. I thought you were going to see Daniel tonight."

"Yeah, I'm over there now. You know how you've wanted to watch me and Daniel? Well, he had this idea. If you want, I can leave this call up and you can watch us." I quickly agreed, and Daniel came on. 

"Hold on, dude, let me put this on the tripod." After a few moments of wildly gyrating video, the image stabilized, I saw the headboard. "Is that okay? Can you see the bed?"

"Down a little." The adjustment was made, we were all ready. 

During their lovemaking they ignored me. I saw the first kisses, the slow unwrapping of Lynda's body, heard the slurping sound of Daniel's lips on her nipple. I had a great view of Lynda's face as she sucked on Daniel's length - longer and thicker than me, I thought - and then Daniel laid on his back, his head toward the camera, and Lynda scaled her lover. I watched as Daniel's tool disappeared, inch by inch, between her legs; Lynda looked directly into the camera as she impaled herself. Then they started moving, I heard the sucks of the genitals, the grunts from their throats as they quenched each other. Neither talked directly to me, it was as if I was forgotten in their embrace, I heard Lynda's screeches. They shifted into him behind her, his face disappeared from the frame, the angle allowed me only to see her breasts sway in unison with the thrusts. I wished I could change the perspective, zoom in on the action, but that of course wasn't possible. And then missionary was on tap, their heads away from me, I could see between Lynda's thighs before Daniel covered her, then all I saw was his ass and testicles as he slapped against my wife. Her roars continued to fill my ears, then I saw him stiffen, he squawked loudly, I knew my wife was being filled with him.

It was over, twenty eight minutes of it, and Lynda approached the phone, her naked body filling the picture. "Take a look at what he did," she teased, and focused the lens on pearly extract flowing down her thigh. "I love you, I'll be home in a couple of hours," she kissed, and then the call was disconnected.

I couldn't wait to reclaim her those hours later, as always the inside of her tunnel was softer, oily when I prodded into the areas her lover had saturated. "Did you have fun watching on the camera?"

"A lot. There were times I couldn't see much, the angles were off. But it was great."

"We'll do it again, then." We did, not every time, but often enough that I was gratified.

I learned how to record those calls. As we watched them, immediately after she returned, it served as a spice to our own lovemaking, Lynda told me she sometimes looked at the videos late at night while I was sleeping. And she told me Daniel studied them as well.

But she continued to resist any effort on my part to be physically present in a room with the two of them. "Daniel's Daniel, and you're you," she explained. "If I start confusing them, I'm not sure what will happen."


Lynda was seeing Daniel five, perhaps six times a month. This didn't satisfy her, she often sought me for sex on a weekend afternoon, in the evening long before bedtime. Given that we continued to see our swinging friends or make new ones a couple of times a month, she was a quenched woman.

We talked about our connection to Daniel, of course. Without communication, a non-monogamous marriage is fraught with misunderstandings, dilemmas. "What are your emotional feelings for him?" I asked once.

"Daniel and I have discussed this. He says he's in love with me. Maybe he is, but it's not the same as you and I have. I'll bet, if I was somehow free to make a commitment, he'd shy away. And I love him, too. If he gets sick, I'll be over there with a bowl of soup. But, again, not the same as I love you. I've never spent the night there, don't want to. You're the man I want to be with most of the time, you're the one who will protect me if something happens."

"So it's just sex, huh?"

"No, not really. There's a connection. He's my best friend, other than you. If I have a problem, maybe somebody at work isn't pulling their share, when I talk to you about it, you try to tell me how to fix it. Daniel just listens, lets me talk it out. You and he are different, that's all. And I love both of you."

Another time, Lynda complimented me on wearing her out in the sack. "Is Daniel a better lover than me?"

"There's no such thing as a 'better' lover," she clarified. "Oh, there's bad lovers, both of us have seen that. Remember how we laughed after that one couple? But, if there's sexual competence, it's not 'better', it's different. Sometimes you want a pack of Skittles, other times it's the best chocolate you can find." 

I'd had my share of women in the Lifestyle, this was something I understood, so it was I that continued the thought. "And depending on the mood and the day, somebody can be one or the other."

"Exactly. You never know what you're going to get until you get it. And your own mood changes the dynamic as well. Daniel's a very good lover, he's got little mannerisms that are different from you. I like it when he's above me, and it's quiet, and he twirls a strand of my hair. But then, you're the only one who knows about that little spot above my ass, you know just how to touch it and make me go crazy. I'm just glad I've got both of you." 


And so, two years later, the circumstances have jelled. Lynda loves me, is my helpmate, heart's desire. At the same time, she and Daniel have a relationship you won't find in sociology texts, extra-marital lovers, confidants. And we both love to fuck, so we have couples we joyfully swing with. Or infrequently, at my urging she'll offer herself to a single man at the club, let me watch her screw his brains out and join in the fun.

I rarely see Daniel, only twice since when we met him at the club so erotically. I don't consider him my friend, just as I don't consider my golfing buddies Lynda's chums. But if he were to depart from Lynda's life I'd be sad. Lynda's told me he has other lovers, she's happy for that, she takes great efforts to ensure it doesn't confuse their relationship.

I'm not sure exactly what label to put on the situation. In forums I've had long and sometimes heated conversations about the terms - open marriage, cuckold, friend with benefits, hotwife. I guess polyamorous fits best, although Lynda is the only one in 'love' with two people. 

We're all happy. And I certainly don't mind!