103 comments/ 109522 views/ 27 favorites Falling off of the Swing By: StangStar06 This one's a little bit different for me. It just spirals down the rabbit hole and gets stranger as you go. Some of you will hate the ending. It's much shorter than last weeks's story too. Before we get into it, I wanted to says thanks to all of you who wrote to me about last week's story "Saving Savannah" and of course as usual I need to thank Mikothebaby for her relentless pursuit of editing perfection. For those of you who don't think having a good editor makes a difference, go back and look at some of my stories before I worked with her. Last week's story was 64 pages long typed out, but there were no complaints at all about editing mistakes, only about my hair-brained story. SS06 * * * * * * SEX, SEX, SEX! It's so strange that most of the problems in my marriage all revolved around something that we spend so little of our lives doing. According to recent studies, the average man or woman who lives to the ripe old age of seventy, spends approximately six months of that lifetime having sex. As much as we wish it was more, that's all the time we spend on sex. The average man spends a whopping total of three and a half years going to the bathroom, 18 months doing household chores, three years driving and ten years watching TV, but only six months having sex. Try as I might, I found no statistics on the numbers of marriages that end over bathroom habits, household chores, or watching TV. But we all know the staggering number of unions that have dissolved or nearly dissolved over sexual incompatibility. Mine was one of those. But don't feel sorry for me, my life is better and richer for it. My name is Stephen Turner. I'm five foot ten. I have sandy brown hair and green eyes. I'm average in most categories, although I like to think of myself as more logical and a bit smarter than average. Perhaps what I've always thought of as my greatest strength though, is actually a weakness. My weakness for what seems to be logical allowed me to be manipulated into a situation that I'd have otherwise hated. And over time, I still came to hate it anyway. How do I put this? My wife Serena and I were swingers. Okay, about now half of you are saying yeah! And the rest of you are saying ugh! The half saying yeah, are imagining me out there on a regular basis screwing lots of available attractive women and enjoying myself immensely. The influx and turnover of some super elite swing club constantly bringing me new partners. You'd imagine that this leads to a very rich and varied sex life and you'd be wrong. Kind of... The others of you are imagining me having to also watch other men screwing my wife and doing so on a regular basis and how this in effect makes me some kind of cuckold and lead to the breakdown of our love for each other and the end of the marriage. And you'd be wrong too. Kind of... I really believe that the main reason for the problems I had with Serena was just that we grew apart. People change over time, and we just got to the place where Serena and I couldn't reach each other anymore. As you listen to my story, I'm sure you'll see that I'm telling the truth. * * * * * * Serena Stephen, though I love him totally, is full of shit. Our marriage should never have even been in jeopardy. And if I have my way, I'm going to get all of his love back. The reason for our marriage problems didn't have anything to do with sex. It was all about two things. The first thing that broke us up is that men have poor communication skills. Instead of Stephen being honest with me about the situation from the very beginning, he chose to hold his feelings in. Am I supposed to be some kind of mind reader? And the second thing that broke us up is that Stephen was seduced by that awful whore into cheating on me. That awful woman stole my husband right out from under my nose and in a way the bitch paid for it. As you listen to the true story, I'm sure you'll see it my way. Since I'm the one who's talking right now, I may as well start things out. Both Steve and I are the products of broken marriages. My dad and mom, as was the norm during their younger days, married in their twenties. I guess dad started cheating on mom early on. His job caused him to travel frequently and dad was a pussy hound to begin with. My dad was a salesman. His company manufactured and sold ladies underwear. It was his job to go out and sell their products to stores and large chains of stores. Dad was an expert on panties and I guess he had some kind of lingerie fetish as well. I remember him telling mom on lots of occasions that panties weren't necessarily the greatest thing on earth, but they were next to it. He'd always laugh after that, though mom didn't. It took me years to realize what he meant. Anyway, those long trips on the road eventually led to Dad's cheating, whether it was out of loneliness or just the inability to control his lust. Mom put up with it for years until she just couldn't take it anymore. She stood by him until I left for college. I think she did that out of wanting me to have a secure and stable home life more than anything else. The funny part about it is that dad had quit cheating years before she filed for the divorce. He was devastated when she left him and whether or not he deserved it, I only remember that my dad's last few years of life were miserable ones. Mom didn't fare much better. She remarried a few years after she broke up with dad. My step father was a really nice man. He was older than mom and had been a widower when they met. I guess I expected the two of them to settle down and have a nice life together. Though my heart ached for my dad, a little part of me was glad my mom could find happiness. It didn't last for very long though, because before two years had even passed there were problems in her new marriage. This time my mom was at fault. She'd married a man that she thought she loved, but the problem was that he, being much older, didn't have the need or capacity for sex that my mom needed. My dad had always been a randy old bastard and that was the problem. Once mom reached her late thirties and hit her sexual peak, her new husband just couldn't keep up with her. And mom also wanted some kind of revenge for the way that dad had cheated on her. Only she was getting her revenge on a man who had nothing to do with it. I felt really bad for him, because as I said, he was a really nice man. Mom engaged in a series of trysts and was caught several times before he just gave her some money and asked her to leave. Their break up was hard on both families and the divorce was brutal. When mom had divorced my dad, he felt guilty and tried to be so generous with her that he almost put himself in the poor house. The second divorce was far different. My step father had been the one who'd been hurt and the judge sided with him, leaving my mother nearly penniless. Her alimony and support from my father had ended when she remarried. Of course, there was one person who was actually happy about the divorce. Yep, you guessed it, my dad was ecstatic, at first. He'd been one of the men my mom had sex with. He made no secret of the fact that he still loved her. He had high hopes that they'd get back together again. Unfortunately, it never happened. You see mom loved my dad too, but she simply couldn't get over the number of times that he'd cheated on her. She simply couldn't ever trust him again. Mom continued sleeping with a lot of men and ended being run down in a car by the wife of one of them. Dad drank himself to death after she passed. I tried to get help for him but it didn't matter, he simply didn't want to live without my mother. Stephen's parents were different. His dad never once cheated. His mom beat his dad's record by one, though and that was all it took. Steve's dad is probably the nicest man I've ever met. He was one of those typical salt of the earth guys. You know the type, he'd help anyone anyway he could. Steve's mom though, was a looker. Guys were always coming up to her telling her how beautiful she was. I guess when she got older, she started to wonder if she was still attractive or maybe just hearing it from her husband wasn't enough. Who knows, maybe she just got bored or something, but she ended up having a fling with a younger guy. Somehow, months after it had ended, Steve's dad found out about it. He was destroyed by it. He'd loved that woman with all of his heart and soul for over twenty years, but he still couldn't forgive that one lapse. In his mind, the fling and all of the embarrassment over it, was grounds for a divorce. Stephen's mom fought the divorce as hard as she could. She tried several different tactics. She tried delaying things with court mandated counseling. She made ridiculous demands and support requirements that the court struck down. She even pretended to be pregnant and swore that the child was her husband's. None of which worked. It took years during which her husband remained resolute. In the end though, he got the divorce he wanted. And they ended up splitting everything up nearly 50/50 anyway. Stephen's mother was hit on constantly after the divorce. She was, in fact, a beautiful woman. The problem was that most of the men who hit on her, just wanted one thing. They wanted her for that beauty and very few of them wanted her long term. After only a few months, she was depressed and distraught. She'd never wanted the divorce in the first place, but by the end of it, everyone on both sides of the family had been begging her to just let the poor man go. After all, she'd caused it herself. She became obsessed with getting her ex back. And, of course, she made a fool of herself trying it. Stephen's dad, well the thing about those nice guy types is that they're not alone for too long. The saying goes that opposites attract and they really do, but there's a difference between attraction and longevity. Most of those quick attractions, like Stephen's mother found out, are very short lived. On the other hand, there's another saying, birds of a feather...you know the rest. Anyway, Steve's dad met a really nice woman. She wasn't nearly as pretty as Steve's mom. She wasn't a devastating beauty, but she was pretty enough and also younger. They got married and had two more kids together. They're still married and very happy to this day. Steve's mother had to watch helplessly as her ex found happiness with someone else. She has health problems and is confined to a wheelchair now. She burned a lot of bridges with her own family during the divorce, so strangely enough only Steve's dad and his new wife visit her. I was determined that when I got married, I would never let sex ruin my marriage. When I met Stephen, it was love at first site. We met later in life than our parents did. We were in our late twenties. The funniest thing about it was that I was kind of a partier and Steve wasn't. I often dated several men and also often slept with several men too. Sexually, I was kind of open. As I said before, I had no intention of letting sex ruin my life. I'd seen the mistakes my parents made. And I'd studied them. I realized that the problem was that although they were sexually compatible, like most couples their peaks were off. The average male reaches his sexual peak early in life. The average female doesn't reach hers until later. So with my mom and dad, both of them had very high sex drives, they just reached them at different times during their marriage and life together. My solution to this or so I originally thought, was that I'd find someone whose drives and desires matched my own completely and that we'd as much as possible grow together. You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men... When I first laid eyes on Stephen, all of that bullshit went out the window. I'd been hearing from one of my girlfriends for weeks about the two guys she was dating. She wasn't like me. She really only wanted to be with one guy. She'd been dating both her boss, and this other guy Steve. She ended up pregnant and she knew her boss was the father because she hadn't slept with Steve yet. She didn't want to give up the boss since he'd knocked her up and if she could make that work it would probably be the best for her child. But she didn't want to give Steve up either because he was so nice and in her words, not mine, dreamy. She had a party one weekend and I helped solve her problem. I answered the door and saw Steve standing there with that shy, unassuming smile of his and that was it. We were never apart again. She and I are no longer friends, of course, but who cares. Her boss turned out to be married. His wife divorced him and she was the one with all of the money anyway. My friend ended up a struggling single mother who barely scraped by. Her boss left town after the divorce and was never heard from again. Steve was different from the guys that I usually dated. My happiness seemed to matter to him more than anything else. It was a real problem for me, because I had intended to sow all of my wild oats and wait until later in life to get married. Another problem was that I was falling in love with Steve so deeply that I couldn't keep him at arm's length like I did most men. Stephen was phenomenal in bed. I guess it went back to that need of his to please me. I was soon so addicted to sex with him that I couldn't deny him anything. So when he asked me to marry him, there wasn't even a second's hesitation before I said yes. Our first few years were happy ones, we were constantly together and I just felt surrounded by love. It worried me because what really mattered to me was the long haul. I wanted that happily ever after with Steve that my parents never had. I'm not sure whether or not people realize just how rare that idyllic picture of two old fogies sitting on that porch together really is. It takes a lifetime of work to get there. If you look at all of those thousands of eager young couples who are madly in love and get married each year, less than a quarter of them make it to happily ever after. Death, disease and divorce each take their toll on a share of those happy young couples. I truly wanted to be one of the winners with my Stephen. I think it was probably about five years ago that I had the first talk with him. I'd been slowly preparing him since he seemed resistant at first. Throughout our marriage, I'd pushed the envelope when it came to sex and erotica. On our vacations, we'd gone to nude beaches occasionally and were both comfortable with our bodies so he seemed like he'd be open to going a bit further. I often read articles about open relationships and the swinging lifestyle and left the magazines or the web pages open where he could see them. It took a while, but finally Stephen asked if it was something I was interested in. We had a long heart to heart and I explained to him what I wanted in terms of our relationship. I wanted to be with him until one of us or hopefully both of us died. He was my man and I was his woman. I loved him and still do with every breath I take. I explained the examples of our parent's relationships to him and told him that I'd die if that ever happened to us. I told him that true love wasn't based on or reliant on sex. And that if we truly loved each other we could relegate sex to being simply another physical act that was necessary for health and well-being. I explained to him that there didn't need to be so many emotional attachments made to it. Why couldn't sex be just like eating? It was simply another biological function. While I was at work I often had lunch or snacks in the cafeteria with my co-workers some of whom were male. It was still far more special to me when I ate with Stephen, but he didn't get angry if I ate with Ralph or Jim during the day. Stephen told me that it was different, because there simply were emotions attached to sex and different people viewed the same acts through different perspectives. Each and every one of us is an individual and we all see things our own way. I saw his car as simply a vehicle, as just a machine to take us places, but he saw and treated his Mustang better than some people treat their kids. That first talk didn't go my way, but it opened the door. It took a lot more talks and a lot of begging and whining before we first joined the club. Our club has a lot of rules. Members have to have regular updates to their medical records to assure that no one can bring any diseases in. There are rules of conduct and no singles are allowed. Most of the members are married and there are no closed or locked doors permitted on the premises. There are separate rooms and areas for those who are interested in multiple partners or fetishes as well. And all members are advised against discussing what goes on inside the club outside of it even with their spouses. Things went well for the first few years that we were there. We went maybe once in a while at first. After a while it became more of a regular thing. We started going monthly. Then it was twice a month or so. Towards the end we went two or sometimes three times a week. Until the end there was never a problem. I guess I've always been the one who pushed for us to go, but towards the end Stephen had been the one asking. Since he'd been a little reluctant at first and for most of our membership, my mistake was in not noticing the changes in my husband or the ones in myself. I still didn't consider this anything too serious for us to overcome. * * * * * * Stephen As usual Serena only sees things the way she wants them to be. She was right in several of her points including the histories of our families, but she was wrong on several points as well. She also made light of my feelings on several things, which leads me to believe that she either never cared how I felt, or thought that my love for her and wish to make her happy would get her what she wanted. Serena was correct about it being love at first sight between us. Anyone who saw Serena would fall in love with her. She's tall, thin and beautiful. Her blond hair is cut short so it's easy to style and also to show off her beautiful facial features and high cheekbones. When we first got together, I was always wondering why someone like her, picked me. After we'd been together for a while, it got worse for me. I just always felt like I was living in some kind of fairy tale. All I've ever wanted growing up was to have a great job in a field that I loved, a nice house, a woman who loved me and a Mustang GT. My needs are very simple and surprisingly I had them all. My life was perfect or so I thought. Like Serena, I worried about what had happened with our parents. I didn't want it to happen to me either. Like her, I wanted to settle down with someone that I could be with for the rest of my life. I guess our biggest differences were in the way that we saw the problems and their causes and also in the way we chose to handle those problems. Serena saw my mom and dad completely different from the way I did. Sure my dad was a great guy. I love him. Growing up he was the best father I knew. He was very caring and he allowed me to make my own mistakes and grow from them. He was also a great husband. My mother loved him a lot. My problem with my dad is probably my own. My dad seems to look at things differently as people age. When you're young, he understands that you're learning and that you'll make mistakes. But once you become an adult you have to live with your choices. He never seemed to recognize that adults make mistakes and have faults too. Perhaps that's why he never saw his own. Let me give you an example. You've all heard about my love for Mustangs. One of the first things I did when I got out of my mom and dad's house was to buy myself an old used Mustang. I saved for a couple of years and budgeted until I could get the car I wanted. Of course I had no idea of how much the insurance would cost, or how much more expensive gas would be. I'd also traded in my existing car and driving a car with that much power and that little weight on winter roads was an experience. The first month that I had the car, the insurance increase left me with very little money. I asked my dad if I could borrow some money to tide me over until I got paid. Falling off of the Swing He took one look at my car and said, "No." I thought he was joking. "You should have thought about all of that when you bought that thing," he said. I guess in a way he was right. But on another level everyone makes mistakes and we all need a helping hand from time to time. My dad could be a real hard ass and very inflexible in his thinking on some matters. I really believe that inflexibility and unwillingness to forgive is what ended my parents' marriage. I mean I know that what my mom did was wrong. She made a terrible mistake and my dad was right to be angry at her. But she loved him more than anything else in the world and he threw her away like an old pair of shoes for that one mistake. Sure, dad moved on with his life. I guess if he couldn't forgive her there was nothing else to do. And he does have the right to be happy. But where others still see my dad as being a great guy because he goes by the home once a week and visits my mom, I see it differently. I see him slowly torturing her. He goes by and visits her every fucking week just so he can dangle the thing she wants most in the world in front of her, himself, knowing that she'll never have him again. In some ways, I think it would be kinder not to go so she'd get over him or maybe even forget. But week after week he goes. Sometimes he even takes his new wife so she can see how happy they are. Dad even had kids with the new wife. They're teenagers now. It's funny, my dad is in his late sixties. He's still a vibrant and active man. My mom, on the other hand, is no longer the beauty she once was and is a broken down hulk of a woman. I often wonder if it was her one slip that caused her life to turn out that way or just my dad's unwillingness to forgive. It's been said that the best revenge is living well. I truly believe that because my dad never hit my mom or even raised his voice to her, but he destroyed her life far more completely than if he'd done either. I didn't share Serena's opinion that differences in sex drive destroyed my parents' marriage. I think it was my dad's inability to bend or to put someone else's needs before his. In my opinion, true, real love is so hard to find that you make allowances for the people who really love you. So yep, as much as I didn't like the idea of us becoming swingers, I agreed to try it. And yes the first few times that we tried it, I participated. Did I enjoy it? Hell yes. There's always something to be said for having sex with a young vibrant woman. It's even better when you can sample different body types and cultures. Serena is tall and thin, I'd often wondered about sex with a shorter chunkier woman, or a woman with large breasts or even a woman with a big fat butt. And through the club, I now know. The problem, at least for me, is that after a while and a relatively short while, it got boring to me. It became simply a physical act, exactly as Serena had suggested. I hoped that she'd get bored of it as well and that we could quit. The problem was that Serena never got bored of it. As time wore on, she wanted to go to the club more and more. I spoke to her several times about quitting and she always told me that I was probably just bored and needed to try something or someone different. She always told me to give it another week and we'd quit, but we never did. About that time, I made what was for me, a terrible mistake. Serena and I always separated at the club. Our first few times there we learned that we really didn't like seeing each other with someone else. Anyway, I made the mistake of walking into a room where Serena was...I guess the only thing I can call it was...performing. There were at least four or five guys fucking her or waiting their turns. It was like she was in a feeding frenzy and she couldn't get enough dick. I quickly backed out of the room, but the picture never left my mind. I didn't realize it then but a switch had been turned. I've always heard that you can't fall out of love with someone overnight. That is probably true, but you can fall out of love with someone given enough time. That first time that I saw her started the process for me. I tried to avoid seeing her in the club after that. The problem was that I couldn't erase the scene from my mind or my memory. I'm sure that was the point I began pulling away from Serena. When we left the club, we often made love when we got home. I guess it was some sort of thing to prove who we still ended up with no matter what had gone on at the club. That night was the first night that we didn't. It was also the first time I ever lied to Serena. She showered and couldn't wait to get into bed when she got home. I took a very long time in the shower and even when I got into bed just pulled away from her. "Don't you want me?" she asked. "Very much," I lied. "But I guess I'm just drained." She was shocked. "So some evil bitch has drained all of my stuff huh?" she said. "Well, it's okay. At least you had a good time. Next time remember to save something for your wife though, okay?" I nodded and she scooted over and draped my arms around her. "You can just hold me, anyway though," she said. As we lay there spooned together she wiggled her ass against me trying to arouse me. I pulled away from her and finally rolled away completely, pretending I was asleep. While holding her, I felt like I was hugging a strange pit bull. It just wasn't something I was comfortable doing. For the next few weeks, I brought up quitting the club on a regular basis. Maybe I should have been more firm with Serena or simply stopped going, but I didn't want to be like my father. I wanted us to decide together that we didn't need other people. Unfortunately, I ran into Serena in the club again, this time a huge blond guy was pounding her while others waited their turn and cheered. When he got done with her he shot his sperm all over her face and she licked it from around her mouth with her tongue. I had to get out of there before I threw up. I backed out of the room and tried to sit down in one of the common areas. "If you're thinking it'll get better, it doesn't," said a voice. I looked up and saw a woman sitting on the sofa I just dumped myself on. She was short and while not fat, she was voluptuous. She had big boobs and a big butt. But she also had the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen. Her long very dark brown hair was tied into one long braid that started from the top of her head and continued to the small of her back. She was fully dressed unlike a lot of the women in the club. That was one of the things that always amazed me. The women there walked around in nothing or next to nothing, while the men were always dressed. "You must be new here," she said. She smiled and it made me want to smile too. "Donna," she said, holding out her hand. I shook it and smiled back. "I guess maybe I should take you around on a tour and show you some of the places to avoid until you're fully acclimated," she said. "That would be nice," I said. I didn't let on that I'd been a member for longer than she had. She showed me the back of the club where the deck and the balcony were. I'd seen it but hadn't been there in over a year. We ended up talking for a while about all kinds of things, from cars to games and even movies. Donna, at twenty-nine years old, was six years younger than me. Her smile and her eyes lit up the night for me. After our tour, we ended up back on the balcony. The moon was high in the sky and it was a warm night. We played scrabble on my iPhone for hours. Just before midnight I won the last game we played. "Okay you won," she said. "I guess we should find a room so you can have your prize." "Huh?" I asked. "I appreciate you spending all of your time with me," she said. "Isn't that the reason why people come here? I just assumed that you'd want to have sex as your prize. Is it okay if I just give you a blow job though? My husband will be expecting me soon." I grabbed her by the sides of her head and gently pulled her to me. I very gently kissed her on her lips, letting my lips linger on hers for a fleeting moment. "Why ruin it?" I asked. "We had a really good time tonight. I really like you. I thought I'd found a real friend. Please don't turn it into something as cheesy as the rest of what goes on around here." Then I turned and left. When I got back to the entry hall, Serena was sitting on the couch with her arms folded waiting for me. "Where were you?" she asked angrily. I looked down at her and smiled. "I was having fun. Isn't that what we're supposed to do here?" I asked. "We always leave by ten," she said. "It's after midnight." "Serena," I snapped. "I usually have to wait for you. Just this once you had to wait for me. What's the problem?" I didn't wait for an answer. I just grabbed my keys out of my jacket and headed for my car. As we pulled away from the club, I let my thoughts wander. I pushed my head back into my Mustang's Recaro racing seat and smiled as I remembered kissing Donna. "...tion to me?" I'd been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't heard most of what Serena was asking me. "Huh?" I answered. "Stephen did you hear any of what I just asked you?" she said. "Nope," I said. "It figures," she said. When we got home she asked me if I wanted to take our showers together. "We could save some water, Honey," she smirked. "It would be good for the planet." "That's okay," I said. "I have to check my email and voice messages to make sure nothing happened on that project I'm working on for work. You go ahead." That was the way the next three months went. We started going to the club more and more because as much as Serena wanted to go, I wanted to go more. It got to the point where if Serena didn't bring up going to the club, I did. Once we got there, I quickly found Donna and we spent all of our time together. We played games initially and we talked. Boy did we talk. I think it was the third time that we met each other that we kissed again. Both of us had been thinking about that first kiss and wondering if another would be as good. There was no disappointment. The second kiss told me something that I didn't want to admit. From the second our lips touched, our tongues reached out probing each other's mouths. My hands wandered Donna's ample body but only the innocent areas. I rubbed her back and sides but stayed away from the juicy places like her ass and those breasts that were flattening themselves on my chest. Donna didn't come back to the club for a week after that. I spent that week treating Serena like shit. Not that I hit her or screamed at her, but I was always crabby. I told her it was problems at work. The second Donna walked into the club I knew that something was different. Where before she'd always been tentative and passive, she immediately sought me out. I also noticed that the big blond guy that I'd seen pounding Serena was Donna's husband. She grabbed my hand and pushed me into a room. She backed me up to a wall, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me. She pressed every bit of her body against me and refused to back off. "Do you know how much I missed you?" she asked. "I thought I'd go crazy. Let's get out of here." "Uhm Donna, this is a couples place, remember?" I asked. She smiled at me. "Haven't you noticed that men and women come and go all the time? Couples have to come in together and leave together. If we leave by a different door, how will they know that we didn't come together?" That marked a big change in our relationship. It was actually the start of our relationship. Instead of moping around while our spouses fucked, Donna and I took long romantic walks together. We saw movies. We saw plays. We had dinners and tried out different restaurants. We talked about serious things like our lives and our marriages. There were only two things we didn't talk about, sex and divorce. We didn't talk about sex, because we could have not only talked about it but done it any time we wanted. Both of us wanted to wait for as long as we could and make that first time as special as possible. There were times when I literally burned, because I wanted to fuck her so bad. There were also a couple of times when she stuck a couple of my fingers into her bra so I could feel exactly how hard her nipples were. But we enjoyed prolonging the anticipation while we got to know each other better. Neither of us wanted to be with our spouses anymore either, but we simply never talked about it. We also broke another of the club's rules. We exchanged phone numbers so we could speak to each other whenever we wanted. Of course, Serena wasn't stupid. She did notice the changes in me. And she pointed out to me that perhaps it was time for us to stop going to the club. "Why?" I asked in shock. "Aren't you enjoying it? You were the one who started us going there. And now that I'm finally beginning to enjoy it, you want to quit." "Stephen," she said. "Have you noticed that you and I don't have sex anymore? At first, we used to all the time. We even did it after we got home from the club. Then sometime back you stopped wanting me after we'd been at the club. I thought that maybe it was something like maybe you didn't want to be with me after some other guy. Stephen, it hurt me pretty bad, but I figured we'd need to work through it. But now it's gotten to the point where we don't have sex at all, Stephen." "Serena, men and women are different. After I get off a couple of times I need time to recharge," I said. "Stephen, I know you," she said. "Don't give me that shit. When we first started going I saw you have sex with a woman in the club and then come home and make love to me more than once. Don't you see that what we do together and what happens at the club are different?" "Serena, you were the one who said that sex is just a biological function and all of that other stuff," I said. "We have to be able to separate love from sex." "But Stephen, don't you see that we're over doing the club thing, Honey? We went five nights last week," she said. "Maybe you're just getting bored," I said. "You should probably try out something new or someone new." "How dare you use my words against me," she said. "Don't you see that what I get from you is different from that crap? Stephen, we go to the club to fuck. It's just sex. Most of the people there don't give a damn about who they do it with as long as they get off. The men there just want to pound you like a fucking drum. With you I get tender gentle loving from someone who cares about me. I haven't had that in a long time." "I get the feeling that you're saving all of your energy for some whore at the club and forgetting that you have a wife who loves you," she said sadly. I guess my mouth got ahead of my brain. "You mean you're tired of being the club pincushion so now that I've started to enjoy myself, you want us to quit," I said. She just stood there and looked shocked. "Stephen, what...?" she said. "Serena, I've seen you doing gang bangs and whatever else you do. I've seen you taking on multiple guys and licking their sperm off of your body parts and trying your best to drain them dry. It was an accident. I've only run into you a few times but every time I did, it sickened me. I kept it to myself so you could go ahead and enjoy yourself. I gave you your time. So give me mine." "It's not like you won't get yours," I said. "Both of us will still go to the club. You won't be stuck wandering around there feeling lost and lonely like I was." "What do you mean?" she asked. "I saw you those first few times." "Serena, I got bored and gave that up after a few weeks. After I experimented and tried out a few different body types it just got boring for me. It was only sex. It didn't mean anything." I should never have said that last part. "But what about us?" she asked. "What about our sex life?" "Serena, after seeing you in action," I began. "I just didn't...I was miserable." "Stephen, are you trying to tell me that you don't want to have sex with me?" she asked. The tears were fighting their way out of her eyes. "Look Serena," I said. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just well...I'm a normal guy. I feel kind of intimidated after seeing you screwing five or six guys at a time and hearing you screaming for more. It just makes me wonder why you even need me." "Oh Stephen, this was a terrible mistake," she said. "We can't ever go there again." "Serena, we have to," I said. "We went long enough while you wanted to. So you have to give me some time too." She nodded her head. "Let me know when we can quit," she said. I guess I'd underestimated Serena. We went to the club the next night. "Please let me know when you're done," she said. "Just text me and I'll get dressed and come right back here. Or if I get done first I'll wait for you right her so we can go home. Can you at least try to save something for me? We really need to get back on track, Honey. Maybe we can slowly phase this out like we phased it in?" She slowly walked away from me. Less than ten minutes later Donna and her husband came in. He started taking off his clothes while he was still in the great room. Donna rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand. We went to a very romantic restaurant and sat there holding hands and listening to the violins after we ate. Then we took a walk and finally headed back to the club. When we got back inside by the side door and headed for the great room we exchanged one of our usual soul searing kisses in the darkened hallway just outside of the lit up meeting room. We'd just pulled ourselves apart and were still staring into each other's eyes when the clapping started. "What the fuck was that?" screamed a deep voice. "Was this a fucking date? Are we in high school?" The lights came on and we noticed several members of the club, including Donna's huge husband Jerry and my wife Serena who looked like she was going to cry. "What did you think you were doing? That isn't how this works. You didn't fuck her. You were with her the whole God damned night and all you did was kissed her and sat around looking at her. Don't you know how to fuck?" I was speechless. "Are you too good to fuck my wife? Or don't you think she's sexy enough for you?" he boomed. I just shrugged my shoulders. "She's beautiful," I said. "Good," he screamed. "Let's get this started then. Donna, take off your clothes and let this guy fuck you." "No," I said. "Why not?" he screamed. "Which one is it? Either she's not sexy enough for you. Or you're some kind of faggot." "Or..." I began. "Or what?" he asked. "Don't worry about it, fruit loops, I'll handle this. "Gary, Michael, do me a favor. Fuck my stupid wife." "Or maybe, I love her," I said. "Maybe you don't deserve her. Maybe she needs someone who wants to be with her and not just for the sex." Serena screamed then loud and long. "Nooooooooo, Stephen. This is not what I wanted." "Maybe we're all just with the wrong people," I suggested. "Maybe we should just all be with the people who are more like us." "But your wife is a whore," he spat. "Every guy in the club has fucked her mouth, her pussy and her ass. I don't think there's a single guy here who'd want to do anything other than fuck her then run. You have to be crazy to even suggest that shit." "Maybe he is," said Donna quietly. "But he's also right. I love him too. I've indulged your bullshit for as long as I intend to. I'm filing for a divorce in the morning." "Maybe you guys should all go home and think about this some before anyone does anything stupid," said one of the club's officers. "That's why we have rules against spouses watching each other. It all just turns into jealousy and ruined marriages. That's not what we want here. Maybe we'll have to consider revoking all of your memberships." Falling off of the Swing * * * * * * Serena Stephen calmly walked over to Donna and took her hand. He told her he'd call her the next day. "No, he won't," I shouted. "He might call her, but she won't be answering," screamed Jerry. "Look," said Stephen calmly. "Maybe we should all just go somewhere and sit down and talk about this like adults. Donna and I aren't children. We're adults and we really didn't do anything illegal or even morally wrong. Does anyone besides me even see how twisted this whole situation is?" Both Jerry and I sighed. "Think about it," said Stephen. "Jerry you're getting upset because another man is NOT fucking your wife. If you had any balls at all you'd be thanking me for making sure that she's happy while you're running around here screwing everything that's not nailed down." "But Stephen, Honey you're the one who doesn't understand," I said, louder than I intended. "If you had seen what the two of you looked like together, you'd know why we have to stop this. The two of you looked like no one else in the world mattered. Nothing that I do around here is a danger to our marriage. Okay maybe I went a little bit crazy and acted a little too slutty...Okay, I was an out of control slut. But that's over. None of what I did ever jeopardized our marriage. I've never loved anyone but you. I don't even know the names of any of these people except for Jerry and I didn't find that out until tonight when we both decided that we needed to find out what the two of you were up to." "Originally, we thought you guys were into some freaky sex thing that we didn't know about, but this is far worse. Do you even realize that you told her husband that you LOVE her? This has to stop." "Serena, it's too late for that," Stephen told me. "For months, maybe even years now, you just never seemed to see that I was unhappy with the way things were. I never wanted to start doing this anyway, but you wore me down over time. I thought we'd try it once, to make you happy. But we kept on coming here. Even when I asked you if we could stop, you always said, just give it a little bit more time and I'd enjoy it. I never did. Then I accidentally walked in and saw you in one of your gang bangs and I was so disgusted that I just didn't know what to do. THAT was when we stopped having sex, and that was also why. You're just not the woman I married, or at least not the one I thought I'd married. Maybe then if you had stopped, over time there might have been time to repair things, but you didn't. No matter how much I asked, you always had a reason why we needed to keep coming." "After a while, I was so miserable that it just began to erode the way I felt about you. I guess in the back of my mind I'd already started looking for an exit strategy. About that time, I met Donna and we became friends. Then we became better friends. We do things together and we spend time learning about each other and experiencing things. That's what I want to spent the rest of my life doing, not wondering who's fucking you." "But Stephen," I said. "That was the whole point of joining the club. Making sure that sex, while an important part of our relationship, wasn't something that could destroy it." "But it destroyed it anyway, Serena," he said. "I don't think I can look at you anymore without seeing three or four guys all humping away at you. Most prostitutes have more of a sense of decorum than you do. I always told you I wanted someone to spend the rest of my life with. I don't remember ever telling you I wanted to be the town slut's husband." "But Stephen," I told him. "Outside of the club, no one knows and I'll never do it again." I knew that I had to do something to get him back. This had all gone totally wrong. I'd enjoyed the sex but even the multiple-partners thing was getting boring. There had also been fewer and fewer guys who wanted me each week for a while. The ones who stayed were becoming wilder and more extreme. Some of them had actually started hitting me and the sex had been getting rougher. I had to admit it they didn't give a damn about me, they just used me like a piece of meat. And what I'd been missing lately was the way Stephen made love to me. When we were first married, he used to spend hours on just foreplay. He had this lazy sneaky way of doing it. We'd start out fully clothed watching TV and during the commercials he'd start kissing me or massaging me. He'd do it for just a couple of minutes while the commercials were on. As soon as his show came back on he'd stop. Sometimes he'd still hold my hand or just hold me. Then as soon as the next commercial would come on, he'd pick up where he left off. The next thing you knew we'd be in full make out mode during each commercial. It would get so I just longed for the commercials. Clothes would be shed and body parts aroused from commercial to commercial. Finally one of us would turn off the TV and we'd just make love until we couldn't move. The funniest thing would be that neither of us could remember anything about any of the shows we watched when the next morning came. Stephen had always treated me like I was something precious. I'd neglected him and our marriage for a bunch of guys who treated me like a piece of shit. He'd been miserable for a long time, I saw that now, but I still believed that I could get him back. "Maybe you're right," Stephen said. "Outside of here, no one would ever know about you, Serena. But I know and I'll probably never get those images out of my head. I'm going home, are you coming?" I followed Stephen to his Mustang and got in. One of the things I loved about his car was the intimacy of the interior. There wasn't a huge amount of room so we were in close quarters. I reached out for his hand and he shifted gears moving his hand away from me. "Was that on purpose?" I asked. "Did you really need to shift, or did you just not want me touching you?" "It's been a long day," he said. "I think that we should just take a step back, cool down and look at the situation when our heads are cooler." "I love you Stephen," I said. For the first time since we'd met, he didn't say anything back. I found myself wanting to kick myself. How the hell could I not have seen this coming? Why didn't I stop? Why did I ever start it? All I ever wanted to do was avoid the mistakes my parents made. Now I found that I was stuck in nearly the same pattern. It wasn't the same was it? My parents had cheated on each other and destroyed the trust between them. In the end they'd still loved each other but they couldn't be together because they'd had sex with other people and it destroyed them. Wasn't that exactly the situation I found myself in? It was actually worse, really. I'd become so much of a slut that even the guys that fucked me had no respect for me. Jerry had nearly died laughing when Stephen had suggested that we swap mates. Stephen and Donna didn't mind it at all. But Jerry didn't want to have any part of the whore, as he called me. But that was fine because I didn't want him either. I've only ever wanted my husband. How had I managed to lose track of that? And Stephen, he never wanted to be his dad. He never wanted to be so rigid and unyielding that he couldn't forgive the woman he'd married over what she considered a mistake. He'd simply moved on with his life, met someone new who wasn't nearly as pretty and had a happier life. Is that what is about to happen to us? I won't let it happen to us. I won't let Donna have my husband. Stephen's mother gave up and look how she ended up. I won't be that easy to get away from. As Stephen pulled into our driveway, I'd already made up my mind. I went to our room and changed into the sexiest lingerie I had and got into our bed. I didn't even need a shower since I hadn't had sex with anyone that night. Jerry and I had spent the entire evening following Stephen and Donna around. Watching them was painful. Stephen did so many nice little things for her. It was agonizing watching him buy her a flower from a vendor and kissing her hand as he gave it to her. Or the way they walked slowly along the river walk, with her pointing out things like boats or birds and him just nodding his head but not ever taking his eyes off of her. It was the same way he'd always treated me. It was like Stephen was replacing me in his life and his heart with her already. I just couldn't understand why. He was the only man I loved. The things at the club were just sex. It was only physical. There were no emotional attachments. I had to find some way to make him understand that. After waiting for what seemed like an hour, I got out of bed and went to look for Stephen. He was in the office looking through what looked like our banking records. "Stephen, can't that wait until tomorrow?" I asked gently. "If I have to find an attorney, he'll probably want this stuff so I may as well try to put it together now. It'll save time," he said. "Why do you need an attorney?" I asked, dreading the answer. "Serena, we had a good run," he said. "I'm really sorry to see things end this way too. But I just don't see a point in continuing this." "This what?" I asked. "This isn't just a THIS. What you're talking about is our marriage, Stephen, our life together. You're talking about our future together and our happiness. Can't you even pretend to give it the dignity it should have?" "Okay, Serena," he said. "With the utmost dignity, I don't think we should be married to each to each other anymore. I think that we both love others and they're the people we should be with." "Who Stephen?" I screamed. "Who are you talking about? I don't love anyone except you." "I love Donna," he said. "And you love Dick. In fact I've heard you screaming it at a couple of your sessions at the club. You never screamed anything like that when we did it. So if this all works out, I'll have Donna and you'll have plenty of dick." "Stephen, but I don't love Jerry. And you heard him. Jerry doesn't love me. He doesn't love Donna either." "Then why did he marry her?" Stephen asked. "Because her father owns the company Jerry works for. Jerry loves being rich and all of the stuff that goes along with it. If he divorces Donna, he'd be out on his ass," I said. "He'll never let her go. He'll do his best to charm her back into his bed. You'll see Stephen. You'll end up alone." He shrugged his shoulders and started packing up his papers. "Stephen, remember how you didn't want to be like your father?" I said. "You didn't want to be so unforgiving?" "I'm starting to see my father from a different perspective," he said. "My dad loved my mom with all of his heart. But she put him in a position where he really had no choice. Sure he could have forgiven her and tried to move on, but he'd have spent every day for the rest of his life, looking himself in the mirror and being ashamed of himself. Every time he shaved or brushed his teeth, he'd see a man that he had no respect for. Every time he looked at a picture of himself or passed by a store window and saw his own reflection he'd cringe." "Serena, for all of these years I've misjudged my dad. He never did anything mean or evil to my mother. They just both had to make choices. She chose, for reasons of her own to go outside of their marriage when there was nothing wrong with it. It was something that she seemed to need, whether out of vanity or pure curiosity. After she made that choice, she simply wasn't happy with the results. Before making that choice, she never apparently considered what it would do to my dad or our family. She made her choice for purely selfish reasons. So he had to take his turn and make his own choice, for his own self-respect and his own happiness." "After all of these years Serena, I now really understand my dad so much more than I ever did before." "But Stephen, our situation isn't like theirs. I didn't cheat on you. You agreed to us joining the club. You fully understood that I would have sex with other men. If anyone cheated, Stephen it's you. You're the one who went out and formed an emotional bond with a person outside of our marriage. You're the one who wants to replace me with another woman." "So what you're saying, as ridiculous as it seems," he began. "Is that by not having sex with Donna, I cheated on you?" "Yes," I hissed. I noticed then that he was slowly shaking his head and he got up and left the room. I followed him out into the hallway and watched as he climbed the stairs and went into one of the spare bedrooms. I followed him into the room and looked at him. "Why are we sleeping in here?" I asked. "Do we need a change of scenery or something? Stephen, I never brought anyone home. I have never had sex with any man other than you outside of the club. I have never cheated on you and I never would have." "I didn't think that WE were sleeping here," he said. "I thought that I was." "Why would you think of anything that stupid?" I asked. "Serena, I just want to get some sleep," he said. He got into bed and I got in next to him. For most of my adult life, I'd gotten used to sleeping next to this man. I didn't intend to give him up without a fight. All through the night we danced. I'd move closer to him and he'd move further away from me. Finally I wrapped my legs around him and put my head on his chest. We fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning we were spooned together, the way we used to sleep when we were first together. His dick was as hard as a rock and it was pushing my ass cheeks apart. One of his hands was holding my tummy and the other was cupping one of my breasts. He was so warm and he felt so good. This was all I'd ever really wanted. I realized then that it wasn't the sex that doomed a lot of marriages. It was the intimacy and closeness. Maybe that was what was really lost. Maybe that was what the sex was all about. And if it was, then I'd really missed the boat because for months now, I'd been getting all the sex I could handle from the men at the club, but I'd never once felt anything like I was feeling right then and Stephen wasn't even aware that he was giving it to me. I started rubbing my ass against him and he got even harder. "That's why I didn't want to sleep with you," he groaned. "I knew that you'd try something." "Stephen, did you know that you're the only one who isn't getting any in all of this," I said. "Jerry still fucks Donna once in a while. I'll bet you anything that he got one for the road last night. It's no big deal anyway. It's not like you and Donna were having sex. So you wouldn't be cheating on her. I've been asking you for sex for months but you've been lying to me all of this time." "How have I been lying?" he asked. "You kept telling me that you were drained from all the women you were screwing," I smirked. "I only did that to avoid hurting your feelings," he said. "I know," I said. "You didn't want to fuck the disgusting whore." "Stephen, I don't want to swing anymore," I said. "I just want it to be you and me. The way it was always supposed to be. No matter what has happened, I still love you and I always will. I know you want to. Can't we have our own one for the road?" That was all it took. The hands that were cupping my breasts and tummy started to rub very gently. My pussy didn't get moist, it started to flood. "Stephen, I love it when you do all of that, but please, I need you really bad right now," I whined. He rolled me over onto my back. I spread my legs and he just pushed his dick in me. It felt so good and so different from everything that had been going on for the past few months. It felt like I was regaining a missing piece of me. Stephen started out by gently exploring my depths. I wrapped my legs around him and begged him to go faster and harder. It had been a long time for him but he lasted longer than I expected. Before too long he was filling me with his seed and he let out a grunt as he did. When I felt the warmth filling my cavity, it drove me over the edge too. "Ohhhh Fuuuuuccckkk," I said. For a few moments neither of us moved. "That was good," he said. "That was a warm up," I said. I reached down and started sucking his spent soldier. It started to liven up as soon as my tongue touched it. After a few moments he was ready for service again. "Stephen, I want you to fuck my ass this time." We'd done anal several times and I know Stephen liked it. I'd never cared for it because Stephen's dick was kind of thick and it hurt, but after all of my slutting around at the club, I was sure I could handle him now. Besides if this was going to be my last time making love with the only man I loved, I intended to leave him an immobile pile of flesh on the bed. I was going to give him everything I had and then some. I bent over and stuck my ass close to him and started wiggling it. I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled. "Come and get it Stevie," I leered. "This was your ass first. Don't you want to take it back?" Stephen rubbed his dick through my still wet pussy to coat the head in my juices for lubrication. Then he spread my cheeks and gently pushed against my anal rim. He pushed and I pushed back at him. He stuck a finger in and wiggled it around. "God damn that's tight," he said. "Jerry said..." "Stephen, Jerry was lying," I said. "In the whole time we've been at the club, I've probably fucked most of the men there, but only a couple of them have had my ass and both of them, including Jerry were smaller than you are. Don't you want to stick that big old thing in my tight little ass?" Stephen's face looked like he was overcome with lust. I expected him to ram his dick into my ass and just take me. I knew that it was going to hurt, but I deserved it. I steeled myself for the pain. It never came. Stephen rolled me over onto my back and licked my nipples. Then he kissed me. Maybe it wasn't as good as the kisses he gave Donna, because they'd had a lot of practice lately. But it was so shocking to me. As my tongue eagerly sought his like a drowning woman seeks air, I realized that I hadn't been kissed in a very long time. I pulled his now throbbing sword back into my sheath for another coupling that was far slower, far gentler and even more satisfying. This time when I came Stephen kept going and he pushed me to a series of smaller orgasms like ripples in a stream. I was pushing out fluids from both ends. My pussy was gushing juices so we wouldn't have to ever stop and tears were running down my cheeks at the same time. "What's wrong Serena?" he asked. "Why didn't you fuck my ass?" I blubbered. "I wanted you too. All you had to do was push it in, I could have stood it." "Serena, why would I want to do anything that would hurt you just because you'd let me?" he asked. That was when I lost it and just started crying uncontrollably. "Stephen, please don't leave me," I sobbed. "I'll do anything. I'll even share you with Donna if I have to. I promise you that I'll NEVER let another man touch me for the rest of my life. I love you Stephen. You know that. I always have. Every time after we came home from the club I always offered myself to you. I just lost track of the differences. I swear you will never be sorry." "Serena, I'll think about it," he said. "But what do you mean by the differences." "Stephen, there's a big difference between sex just to get off and sex with someone who loves you. When I was in the club it was more like I just did it to do it. It was like a sport. I didn't care about them they didn't care about me. It hurt sometimes, but after it was over I could say that I'd done it. Those guys never cared about me they just wanted something to fuck. A lot of the time I needed more and more of them just to have an orgasm. That's why I screamed, because they weren't enough. I needed more. " Falling off of the Swing "With you, Stephen, I don't scream on the outside because you make me scream on the inside. You gave me more orgasms than any four or five guys. And you also cared about me Stephen. Maybe you don't love me anymore, but you not loving me, is far more caring than anyone else ever. You could have just gone and taken my ass. I know you wanted to, I could see it in your eyes. But you just couldn't bring yourself to hurt me, even for your own pleasure. I just can't lose you..." I couldn't talk anymore. I just started crying all over again. "Please, Stephen, forgive me," I begged. He just looked at me. For a long time he just stared at me. Then the doorbell rang. Stephen and I put on robes and went to the door. There were three men standing there. Two of them were uniformed police officers. The third introduced himself as Detective John Walker. "What can I do for you officers?" said Stephen. "Are you Stephen Turner?" asked the detective. "Yes I am," said Stephen. "Do you know a Donna Acevedo?" asked the detective. "Yes I do," said Stephen again. "Is she in trouble?" "No, Mr. Turner. Mrs. Acevedo was murdered by her husband last night. They got into a very loud argument that some of the neighbors heard and reported. A squad car just arriving on the scene heard the shots as they were fired. The officers broke down the door and found her husband still holding the gun. There had been a history of arguments between them over the years but never anything like this." "We finally got a confession from him and he claims that the reason he killed her was that he lost his temper because his wife was going to leave him for you. Is there any truth to that?" "Mrs. Acevedo and I were very close," Stephen told the officers. "We had just started thinking about divorcing our spouses last night. We were all members of a swing club. Our spouses had sex together regularly. Donna and I have never actually had sex. We kind of got closer to each other without it. Our spouses found out that we'd been sort of dating, instead of having sex and they were upset. In fact, Mr. Acevedo demanded that I have sex with his wife. That was what started this whole thing." "Whoa..." said the detective. "The guy tried to force you to do his wife?" Stephen nodded. "This case just keeps getting weirder," said the detective. "This is some of the strangest shit I've ever seen." The uniformed cops behind him nodded their heads in agreement. "I mean, I thought I'd seen strange before, but this one takes the cake. The weirdest part is, when we broke the door down, the husband just calmly put the gun down and held his hands up in the air. He had a kind of dazed look. I thought that maybe he was on something. But then he just started smiling and said that it was worth it. He'd saved you. He would be the last one. It would all end with him." "He'd saved Stephen?" I asked. "How did he save my husband?" "Lady, I have no idea," he said. I noticed that when he said lady he took a quick scan and appraised my body from what he could see of it in the robe. I was completely covered from my neck to my ankles. "I think I'm going to let the shrinks handle figuring out his mental problems and the DA handle deciding what to charge him with. I came here for two reasons. They were to get your statements and deliver a message. You two were at the swingers club last night, right?" We nodded. "Mr. Turner you, against the rules of the club, left the premises with Mrs. Acevedo. The two of you went for dinner at a local Italian restaurant where you spent approximately an hour eating and enjoying each other's company. Is that true?" "Yes it is," said Stephen. "The workers in that restaurant claimed that the two of you were uhm, very lovey dovey. Is that also true?" "Yes," said Stephen. "You were observed by witnesses...wait let me get to the statements...okay here it is. You were observed kissing and making out, while you walked hand in hand along the river front. Is that also true?" "Yes sir," said Steve. "Holy shit, your whole night sounds like a fucking E harmony ad," said the detective. Then he turned and looked at me. "Mrs. Turner, you on the other hand spent the entire evening with Mr. Acevedo following your husband and Mrs. Acevedo and watching their activities. Is that correct?" "Yes it is," I said. "Is that something the two of you would normally do?" he asked. I could sense where this was going. The big detective was really just a dirty little boy. He probably couldn't get any on his own so he wanted to hear about it and live it out vicariously. "No, under normal circumstances Mr. Acevedo and I would have remained at the club," I said. "What would you do there," he asked. "And how do you know Mr. Acevedo." "It's a swingers club," I snapped. "So I usually spent my time there getting fucked. And I know Mr. Acevedo because he fucked me from time to time. And before you ask, no, Mr. Acevedo and I were not having an affair. There were no emotional links between us. He was not special to me in any way. We didn't even have sex with each other on a regular basis. We both just wandered from room to room. If what was going on looked interesting, we joined in. Looking back on things, I've probably had sex with Mr. Acevedo three or four times in total over the last year or so." "Is that a lot?" he asked. "I don't understand the question," I said. "Do you mean is that a lot of times to have sex with one member out of the perhaps hundreds that are in the club? Or is that a lot of times to have sex with one person in general?" "Comparatively, three or four times over a year, isn't a very high percentage. For example, I had sex with my husband three times this morning," I said. "By the time you get back in your car there might be a fourth time getting started." The detective's face reddened and the he dropped his notebook to cover the front of his pants. The two uniformed officers moved until they were standing behind something. "So you swingers do that kind of thing often?" he asked. "You just go over to your little club and..." "Former swingers," I interrupted. "This playground is no longer open. All of the rides are exclusive from now on. My husband and I have fallen off of the swing. But yes we used to go to the club and engage in sex with other members on a regular basis. At least I THOUGHT we did." "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well the whole thing for us was supposed to be that we'd go to the club, have sex with some people then come home and make love to each other. It was supposed to strengthen our relationship and keep things from getting stale. You know how some couples just get tired of each other after being together for a long time. I didn't want that to happen to us. And it's always sex that messes things up more than anything else. The top three reasons that marriages fail are sex, money and boredom. " "We both have good jobs and I just don't see Stephen ever leaving me because he can't afford new rims for his Mustang. The idea was that the club would keep us fresh sexually and there was also the fact that if Stephen could have any one of a hundred or so women any time he wanted them, I'd have to work harder to keep him interested in me, so we wouldn't get bored or disinterested in each other. At least that was my original reasoning which has, of course, turned out to be a colossal FUBAR." "How so?" asked the detective. "Because my husband is one of a kind, officers," I said. "The average man in that situation would have been like a wolf let loose in the hen house. He'd have screwed everything that wasn't nailed down and we'd have never given up the club life. But Stephen tried. I see now that he tried for me but his heart was never in it. He had sex with a few women, but it just wasn't for him." The cops all looked shocked. "Officers, my husband simply isn't cut out to be a swinger. I found out that the women he was with all enjoyed it, but he didn't. For him, recreational, purely physical sex just wasn't satisfying. He really needs to be emotionally attached to his partner. And the only person he wanted to be attached to was me. Over time some of the things I did there in my search for greater and greater thrills led him to become detached from me. That's how he started with Mrs. Acevedo. The fact that the two of them hadn't had sex yet is the only thing that has given me even a ghost of a chance to save my marriage. If the two of them had fucked, I'd probably be on the street right now instead of fighting with everything I have to win him back." "In a way though, we were both unhappy with the way things were at the club. I've explained my husband's side of things and mine is the opposite yet still the same. I wasn't being satisfied with the sex after a while so I had to try more and more extreme things to get off. I was kind of like a drug addict. At first it's all new and fun, but over time you need more and more of it just to be normal. As we stayed in the club, my husband stopped having sex with me. It took three or four men or more sometimes to come close to what he gave me alone. I'm talking about this in terms of orgasms and in terms of fulfillment and intimacy." "I pretty much became a slut searching for what I wasn't getting from Stephen. It was like a nasty vicious circle. I'd fuck some guys trying to feel good. Because I did that, Stephen wouldn't have sex with me. So I'd screw even more guys and he'd get even more disgusted. I'd noticed that Stephen hadn't had sex with me in weeks so I asked him and he gave me this story about being drained. Other times he'd tell me he was saving it for the club. I tried explaining to him that the whole reason for the club was to bring US closer together. I even suggested that we quit. Stephen refused to quit which scared me because he'd always been the one who wanted to quit. I never did because I really thought the club was working for us." "Several of the couples we know who got married at around the same time we did have split up. And it's always the same thing. "I caught that bastard cheating on me," or "Serena, I did the dumbest thing. I screwed the pool boy and my husband found out and he's divorcing me so he can marry his secretary." We don't have any problems like that. We can screw anyone we want without sneaking around to do it as long as it happens at the club." "I've probably screwed twenty different men in the past thirty days. The funny thing is that I can't remember any of them. Not a single God damned one of them means anything to me. The only reason I remember Jerry, I didn't even find out his name until he and I followed my husband and his slut of a home wrecking wife. Oops, I shouldn't say that, she's dead isn't she?" "Anyway, I don't remember any of those guys. They don't mean shit to me. They're just living vibrators. Stephen broke the rules and he doesn't even know it. One night, Stephen must have had a really powerful dream because he moaned in his sleep, "Oh Donna." And I'm not talking about the song from the fifties or whenever it was. My eyes popped open in the middle of the God damned night. I couldn't believe it. My own husband, who was denying me sex and forcing me to screw a bunch of bastards who didn't give a fuck about me as long as I spread on command, was moaning about some Donna bitch." "I started thinking that Stephen was cheating on me. I don't just mean screwing her, because he was supposed to be able to do that. But he was having feelings for her. That was against the rules and it pissed me off. I have never loved anyone except Stephen in my entire life. My husband is the air that I breathe. There was no way I was going to let this Donna bitch have him. It also jogged my memory back a few weeks. I remembered fucking this big blond guy who was pounding the shit out of me and yelling, "Take that bitch. Take it Donna." "So I tracked him down at the club and we talked. We were both concerned with losing our marriages. Me, because I love my husband and I want to be with him forever, I guess he had other reasons. At first, we thought that the two of them had gotten involved in something new or some type of freaky sex thing that had them both feverish for each other." "We figured we'd watch them and figure out what it was. Whatever they were doing, I was going to let Stephen do it to me too. Anyway, the strangest thing was that they never got undressed. And as soon as no one was watching them, they left by another door so the guys who watched the doors wouldn't realize that they hadn't come in together." "We followed them and I just got pissed. When they were in the restaurant sipping wine out of one glass together, I wanted to storm in there and beat that bitch to death. Jerry held me back. He told me maybe it was just some kind of elaborate foreplay scenario. Maybe they were pretending to be in love to make their sex better. I was still pissed. Stephen should only be in love with me, pretending, real or otherwise." "Then when they did that walking along the river thing, Jerry had to literally hold me down. He had to put his hand over my mouth to shut me up because I was ready to crucify that dirty bitch." "Wait a minute, I'm confused," said the detective. "It was okay for you to fuck Mr. Acevedo and groups of three or four guys at a time, but not okay for your husband to take a lady out to dinner?" "What I did at the club, as I've explained to you was only sex. There were no emotions involved, it wasn't personal. If you brought a lineup of four guys in here and told me that I'd fucked two of them. I probably wouldn't be able to identify which two they were. I don't love anyone except my husband. But what he was doing was wrong." "The two of them were kissing," I spat. The officers all looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders in confusion. "Look, Jerry and some of the other guys in the club have fucked me more than once. Some of them have fucked my ass. I think Jerry has but I really can't be sure. His dick is smaller than my husband's so he could get away with it easier. Anyway, I have never kissed a single one of them. Kissing isn't about sex, it's too personal. Kissing is emotional. It's not a distant insert tab A into slot B and hump until completion type of thing." "My husband was looking into that whore's eyes and they were becoming attached. I've already told you that he is only allowed to be attached to me. I didn't mind it if they were just fucking but this was against the rules. Anyway, Jerry calmed me down and told me we'd get to the bottom of it as soon as we followed them back to the club and confronted them." Once we saw that they were headed back, we beat them back to the club. That is crazy in itself, because my husband drives like fucking Batman. His Mustang puts out over four hundred and fifty horsepower. He was taking the scenic route so he could spend more time with that bitch." "Even when they came into the club they couldn't stop kissing each other and every time his tongue went into her mouth it was like a dagger going into my heart. The worst moment of all was when Jerry told Stephen to fuck Donna. Stephen said, "No." I got my hopes up. I was sure that Stephen was going to tell Jerry that he only had sex with me. But when Stephen said that he loved Donna, it was like God's fist shot down out of the heavens and crushed me. I couldn't breathe and I almost fell because I didn't have the strength to stand up." "I guess Jerry wanted Stephen to fuck Donna for two reasons. The first reason was because he wanted Stephen to see that all of these romantic ideas about Donna that he had in his head weren't based in reality. She was just a normal woman just like we all are. He thought that if Stephen fucked her maybe it would dent her fucking halo enough that she'd fall off of the God damned pedestal that my husband had put her on. The second reason was that Jerry didn't elaborate on why but he was sure that Stephen wouldn't be happy if he fucked Donna. I think she's awful in bed. I think that's the main reason Jerry is at the club so often and why he just relentlessly pounds who ever he's with. Maybe Donna doesn't like rough sex and that's all Jerry can give her, so they're both unsatisfied." "Anyway, Donna told Jerry that she loved Stephen too and she was going to get a divorce from Jerry. That was when Jerry went ape-shit. We all talked a bit after that and then we all went home. Stephen and I ended up...well, doing what we did. And according to you gentlemen Jerry and Donna did something different. Until you told us about it, we were too busy...uhm, you know, to worry about what they were doing." "That's our take on things," I said. "Thank you both very much, for your time," said the detective. "If we have any further questions, we'll give you a call." He and the uniformed officers started for the door. "Oh before I go," he said. "Mr. Turner, have you ever noticed anything unusual about Mrs. Acevedo's body?" "I actually haven't ever seen her naked," said Stephen. The detective looked at him and nodded. He seemed to be holding something back. "Mr. Acevedo really wants a chance to speak to you." He told Stephen. "He's downtown in the main lock up. You are under no obligation to go but perhaps your meeting with him might shed some light on exactly what happened. The situation is puzzling to say the least. You have two married couples who get into an argument over the same thing. One couple goes home and uhm...does what you two did. The other couple goes home and one of them ends up dead..." * * * * * * Stephen The large door closed behind me as the officer led me deep into the bowels of the police station. It wasn't the loud clanging sound that we've all become accustomed to hearing on TV as the cell door closes behind a prisoner. It was just a loud solid thunk. That thunk spoke volumes. It said that this door is heavy enough and solid enough that short of a bazooka, you aren't getting through it. The officer escorted me to a small room that was divided by a solid brick wall that was reinforced with metal plates. There was a small window in the wall that had a metal mesh screen over it. The mesh was fine enough that you could see through it, but tight enough to prevent any exchange of items other than words. A few moments after I sat down, the door in the other side of the room opened and Jerry Acevedo, wearing handcuffs and leg cuffs shuffled into the room and sat down heavily. He looked through the window and nodded at me. "Thanks for coming," he said. "Why the hell am I here?" I asked. "You and I don't know each other and the last time we spoke wasn't pleasant. The only connection we have is each other's wives." "Wrong," he spat. "We have no connection except ourselves. I have no connection with your wife. I fucked her two or three times I think, but I don't even know her name and except for when she's flat on her back or bent over, I don't even like her. Your wife is a whore plain and simple. I don't know what motivates her to fuck so many guys and I don't care. I was just one of them occasionally." That kind of shocked me, because from the look in his eyes and the way he said it. I got the impression that he really didn't like Serena. Like he'd said before, he thought she was just some kind of slut. "And you didn't really know Donna," he snapped. "Donna is not what you thought at all. I loved her, but Donna was a twisted bitch til the end. Both of our wives had a connection. They were opposite sides of the same coin. Just like us..." I was stunned. I couldn't see any connections between us let alone our wives. "How the hell are they the same?" I asked. My tone and attitude had changed along with the volume of my voice. "Your wife...uhm..." Falling off of the Swing "Serena," I supplied. He looked at me like there was something wrong with me. "There's nothing serene about her," he laughed. "Just like Donna, she was barking up the wrong fucking tree. She was looking for something at the club that she was never going to find. I thought at first that she was addicted to sex. She always wanted more. I saw her screw guys one after another always screaming more or next. It was like get on, get off, get out, then get lost." "It could be a real blow to a guy's ego. I mean you're there fucking the shit out of a woman and she's urging you on and you're thinking that you're really laying the pipe to her. But as soon as you cum or worse yet get tired, you realize that she not only doesn't care about your performance, she doesn't care, period. She just moves on to the next guy. It doesn't matter if you're a big tall strong handsome guy or some dweeb with glasses and a bald head. All you are to her, all you'll ever be is a dick." "And nobody fucks her more than two or three times, unless they're just crazy. The first time you think oh, she was just in a frenzy trying to get her climax. So the second time you meet her, you really give her all of your moves. Your ego demands that you make her cum just so you can keep deluding yourself that you're this awesome fucker. But you get the same thing. You start to think that no one guy is enough for her. Then you get devious. You decided that the next time you run into her you're going to try something really hard core or something kinky or make her scream in pain if nothing else. But it doesn't work." "In my case, I tried fucking her ass. I figured it would hurt her at least if I didn't get her off. But I also thought that maybe she'd like it. All she said was, that if my dick was as big as her husband's that would have hurt. I noticed it then that little flash in her eyes when she said, "My husband," but I didn't take it seriously." "The other night, when we followed you guys, it all became clear. She loves you something awful. The same woman that can take on three of four guys at a time without blinking an eyelash starts crying like a little girl when she saw you kiss Donna. It physically hurt her to see you holding Donna's hand. In the car, I asked her, more out of curiosity, if she ever has orgasms when you and she fuck. She looked at me like I was insane. "All the time, and usually more than one," she said. I realized then that it wasn't a physical thing she was looking for, it was some kind of emotional thing she needed and she wasn't going to get it at the club. She has a lot of sex but it's never going to satisfy her because what she really wants is love and she wants it from you." "Now, Donna on the other hand was almost exactly the same, except she went about it in a different way. Donna also wanted the whole love and romance thing. But neither you, or me, or any other guy was ever going to have sex with Donna." I started laughing at him. "You're trying to convince me that Donna was a lesbian," I laughed. I remembered sharing feverish kisses with Donna while I squeezed her big ass and she pressed those large, soft, pillow-like breasts against me for all she was worth. "There's no way." "No, Donna wasn't into women either," he said. "Donna was asexual. She did not and never had penetrative sex. Technically, she's still a virgin. I have been allowed to lick her pussy once or twice during our marriage, but that's the extent of it." "You're shitting me?" I said. "Then why the hell did you get married?" "Because I loved her," he said. "I loved her more than anything. And if things had gone on for much longer you would have too." "Donna was tired of me," he said. "Just like all of her other husbands, there came a time where they either couldn't take it anymore or she wanted to move on herself." "Wait a minute," I said. "What do you mean all of her other husbands?" "Donna has been married eight times," he said. "She and I have been together for four years. I've lasted the longest out of all of us. Part of that is because of the club. For a normal, healthy, male like myself or you, going without sex for long periods of time won't work. So I'd go to the club, have sex for a few hours and then Donna and I would go home and cuddle. That's all she ever needed, but it gets to be torture for the guys. It's especially bad when you had to watch her walking around the house or getting dressed." "Your wife is pretty," he said. "She's prettier than Donna. But she isn't built better. She's built like one of those models. You know the human clothes racks. They aren't exactly built like real women. They're built to look good in clothes. Dresses hang on them well because they don't have much in the way of breasts or a butt that sticks out too much." "Your wife is pretty, but she could sit around in her underwear and look good doing it. A guy could see her in her underwear and not go crazy. Someone might even want to come by and take pictures of her. Donna was not like that. Donna was pretty too, but she was just drop dead sexy. Donna's body was not the kind they take pictures of, but she drove men fucking nuts. " "If you saw Donna sitting around in her underwear, your dick would swell up like a balloon. You'd see those big tits overflowing her bra and you'd want to fuck her. That little bit of cellulite on the back of her thighs was like the marbling on a good cut of steak. You see those child bearing hips and that ass hanging out of her panties and it was on." "Now imagine having to see that every day and knowing that you can't have it. You're married to her. You have to sleep next to her every God damned night and you can't have it. She'll roll over and press herself into you. The blood is rushing through you and you want her badly. It's maddening." "And it isn't just when you're in bed," he said. "It's every fucking day. It's all of the little things. You're going out to dinner and she comes sashaying that ass into the room to ask you put a necklace on for her. She turns around and bumps that ass into your dick and you're harder than a diamond encrusted rock, but it's all for nothing." I was beginning to see the picture. "So why haven't any of you husbands just taken her?" I asked. "Taken what?" he asked. The he looked at me and laughed. "You don't know yet do you? God she pulled a number on you." He laughed some more. "At least I knew." After he'd had his little laugh, he wiped his eyes and looked at me. "Remember when I said that your wife was a model of a woman because she doesn't have that great of an ass and small breasts. Well, she has something that Donna doesn't. She has a functioning vagina." He saw my surprise and started laughing again. "It's amazing what you can do when you have an almost unlimited amount of money," he laughed. "You've surely heard of sexual reassignment surgery?" I told him that I had. "You know the way they turn women into men. Well, Donna had them sew up or redo all of her internal female organs. She had a total hysterectomy the whole nine yards. She still peed through her urethra. Her clit still functioned but there's no slit there. There's no hole. She neutered herself. Donna could experience orgasms just from you rubbing against her clit, but you were never going to have sex with her unless it was anal and she didn't do that." I was horrified. "Why would..." I began, but then I waited for him. It was his story after all. "Donna grew up in a house with her older sister and their parents. They were very rich and had a wonderful life she told me," he said. "When Donna was very young, her older sister fell in love. The older sister was built like Donna. Every day, she came home and told Donna about how good she felt and how wonderful and romantic love was. Apparently, the boy got tired of waiting for Donna's sister. He ended up brutally raping her. While she was in the hospital she told Donna about how awful and brutal sex was. She'd been a virgin and told Donna to make sure she never did it. She ended up killing herself." "From what I've been able to piece together from the family and close friends, the boy simply disappeared. He never even told his family where he was going. At least that's the official story. The real story is that Donna's father spent over two million dollars having the kid taken care of. They tortured him until he begged them to kill him. They did the most terrible things you can imagine to him for over three years then they started killing the people he loved in front of him just to give him more pain. " "When he finally died, he was just a lump of flesh. They'd cut off each of his fingers individually then his hands then the rest of his arms. Then they started with his feet and legs, by segments. They cut off his eyelids and let his eyes dry out. They pierced him and hung him for hours from chains, real nasty shit. In the end, they told him that they were going to kill him and kill someone else that he knew instead. It must have been awful. I don't know if it made them feel any better. It sure as hell didn't bring Donna's sister back to life and it didn't save Donna. She grew up addicted to romance but mentally unhinged when it came to sex. She got the operation when she was only twenty." "She was some kind of emotional succubus. She feeds on love and romance and the orgasms she gets from guys rubbing against her. The problem is that she gives very little in return. She'd fall in love and savor all of the feelings and then when the guy couldn't take it any more, he'd leave her. Or he'd cheat on her and she'd leave him. When we got together, she'd been married seven times. Often to guys who really loved her, but just as often to guys who really loved her family's money." "Stephen, I loved Donna. I could have walked away a rich man several different times but I stayed with her. Over the past few years, there were lots of women who wanted to take me away from Donna. None of them could. I loved her the way your wife loves you. She was everything to me. When we came up with the idea of the swing club it worked fine until Donna met you. I could go out and do things with women like your wife that I couldn't do with Donna, then go home and give her all of the cuddling she needed. " "Donna had begun to fall in love with you, Stephen. She wanted to throw me away like a pair of old panties that she didn't want to wear anymore. I couldn't let her do that to me and I couldn't let her do it to you. Either you'd have become as crazy and frustrated as the rest of them were, or you'd have tried to leave her too. It had to end Stephen. Do you know how many of Donna's ex-husbands are still alive?" "Three," he said. "Only me and the two guys that she got tired of and left are still alive. I suspect that dear old dad has a way of getting back at the guys who hurt his baby. It's probably not as bad as he did to the guy who hurt her sister but I don't know for sure. Maybe that torture thing is his kink. The whole family is crazy. Anyway, you're safe now and dear old dad will have problems getting to me in here. Maybe he'll decide that life in prison is enough punishment." There were lots of other things that I wanted to ask him but he got up and walked away. The door on the other side closed and I was left alone. The cop who'd brought me there came back and took me back upstairs and gave me my keys and sent me on my way. The detective did come by later on and ask me if he'd said anything. I told him that he had spent the whole time ranting crazily about how he was going to kill me when he got out. I figured that was what Jerry would have wanted. I was so confused that I didn't know what to do. The detective told me that he owed me a favor for trying. They had an open and shut case anyway. When I walked back into the house, Serena took one look at me and took me to bed. We didn't do anything. We just lounged there together. When we got up for dinner we cooked together and ate out on our deck and watched the sun go down. It was a beautiful sunset. I looked at Serena and saw that she was crying. "What's wrong Serena?" I asked. "Just sitting here with you the way we always used to and watching that sunset knowing that it may be going down on our marriage makes me sad," she said. "Serena, do you want to stay married to me?" I asked her. She nodded her head vigorously. I got up and walked away from her. I made a phone call to the detective and told him what I wanted. I pulled a set of papers from my desk drawer out and took them back out to the deck where Serena awaited me. "Serena, do you love me?" I asked her. She nodded her head again. "More than anything, Stephen," she said. "If you give me another chance, no other man will ever touch me for the rest of my life." "Then sign these," I said. I gave her the papers and she looked them over. "Stephen no," she screamed. "I love you. I'll fight this with everything I have. I'll never sign them." "Serena even if you refuse to sign them, I can still get a divorce. But if you do sign them we might stay together. It's up to you. I want you to sign these divorce papers in the event that you fail what I'm going to ask you to do. Tomorrow, that detective has arranged for you to take a lie detector test to put my mind at ease. If you pass the test, we'll stay married, at least for now. It's going to take some work and a lot of time, but I do love you too. I just have to try to wrap my mind around everything we've gone through in the last year or so. If you don't pass, I'll file for the divorce. The settlement is very fair 50/50 all the way. So you have nothing to worry about if you're telling the truth. But if you're lying about the way you feel about me, it's only fair that I be able to move on with my life." "You mean like your father did, don't you?" she asked. "Well, you're already being kinder than he was. At least you're giving me a chance. And Stephen, I won't fail the test, so you're stuck with me." Serena signed the papers. We fell asleep in each other's arms and spent the morning the way we had the previous one. Serena passed the lie detector test with flying colors. Apparently she really did love me and only wanted us to be in the swing club to make sure that sex didn't separate us the way it had our parents. She'd always been wild even before we got married, but losing me had burned the wild out of her. I'd like to think she's learned that there is a difference between just fucking for the hell of it and being with someone you love. I hope she also knows that she can't have both. I was glad she turned me down when I offered to take the test too. I'm not sure I'd have passed. Even today, years later, there are times when I look at her and imagine her with some guy on top of her and two more waiting and I'm filled with rage. At those times Serena just walks over to me as if she's psychic and reminds me that it was a long time ago and even then she loved only me. Sometimes it's enough. Sometimes it takes me a while to get over it. We're happy and still in love though most of the time. Seeing our kids helps a lot. As does remembering that this is all about the end game and despite what almost ended our marriage, I really do want to watch those sunsets together when we're old and feeble. I used to think about Donna a lot and how tragic her life was. I find that now even if I do have one of those rare moments when I think about her, I can't even remember what she looked like. * * * * * * Serena In the end, everything worked out the way it was supposed to. Stephen and I are still together. After I passed the lie detector test, Stephen makes it seem like everything was just wine and roses. The reality was far from that. It took me years to regain his trust even though I had never cheated on him. I had never had sex with any man outside of the club and I had permission to do so inside the club. It didn't matter. Stephen was still just as hurt as if I had cheated on him. I had to prove to him that I was still his and always would be. We went through some awful times. It was as if Stephen, even though he'd promised to give me a second chance, was simply waiting for me to fail. He was training himself to live without me. He did things that hurt me badly. There were times when I'd go out and buy him a present, like the year I bought him that jacket with all of the Mustang patches on it. He never wore it once. But someone else gave him the same jacket and it became his favorite. I cried for weeks over that. Our sex life seemed to recover in spurts too. There were times when we made love constantly, as if we had to prove that we still loved each other and belonged together. But there were also times when he wouldn't touch me for weeks. Things seemed to get better after I got pregnant the first time. I insisted that we get a DNA test. He told me it wasn't necessary but I made him go through with it. I wanted him to know that our baby was his, even if he didn't think it's mother was. I also sat through another lie detector test every year for the first three or four years after we got back together. Stephen kept telling me it wasn't necessary but I needed him to know. Winning back the trust of someone who loves you that much takes a long time and in some ways you never fully get it back, but I'll keep working at it until the end. The end