When we decided to get married we were both in our thirties and had been around the block more than a few times. Having seen too many friend's marriages end in disaster, we decided on a code of acceptable behavior regarding sex outside our union. Sally and I both had an interest in variety which included, on occasion, same-sex partners. Our compromise was no opposite-sex partners to avoid the risk of romantic involvement and that discrete same-sex dalliances would be acceptable.
Sally's relations with women were always spontaneous. It could be a hairdresser, shop girl, or someone she met in a bar. I, on the other hand, not willing to risk exposure, planned my forays into gaydom very carefully. One of my favorite places to go and be totally anonymous was Palm Springs. With a variety of gay resorts and day spas, it offered me the secrecy I craved and the freedom of absolutely no-commitment sex.
As we approached Palm Springs on the drive down from Santa Barbara, the topic of what I did on my semi-annual golf trips came up. She knew it was more than golf that drew me to America's gayest city and was interested in hearing about it. Our open relationship demanded a high level of honesty about these things. I related what the resorts were like and what I did when I went there. More interested in what the places were like than my experiences she wanted to see for herself.
I called my usual spot, a grade-B resort with decent rooms for overnight stays, a pool, hot tubs, a fairly decent restaurant, and the usual X-rated play area. When I inquired about whether they admitted women the clerk said that being a public accommodation they could not discriminate based on gender but it was most unusual and not recommended. I told Sally it was a go.
After dinner, we arrived and I informed the man behind the desk that I had called earlier, he recalled. I paid for two lockers, towels, and, as I normally did, a cock ring. It was a Friday night and the place was jumping, we created a bit of a stir as we approached the pool and outdoor lockers. The place was aswarm with naked men of all shapes and sizes, mostly middle-aged. I quickly undressed and stuffed my things in my locker as Sally was neatly folding her skirt and blouse, soon to be joined by her bra and panties.
Sally, at forty-three, was a slender, wholesome woman with long legs, a flat tummy, and small perky breasts with delightful pink nipples that always seemed to be erect. Her ivory white skin was beautifully accented by her long red hair and matching pubes. As she stood up to put her things away she was the center of attention, she loved it. Spying a couple of empty chaises on the far side of the pool we ventured out. Sally, still in her heels, made quite an entrance. Her legs seemed to go on forever as she made her way to the seats, all eyes were on her.
I left to get us something to drink as she waded into the pool. Soon surrounded by a quartet of admirers they were laughing and joking when I returned with the sodas, she had them charmed. Exiting the pool she showered and on her way back engaged another couple of elderly men in conversation, they too were smitten. I imagine more than a few of those "gay" men would have loved to fuck this alluring woman.
Slipping back into her heels we set off for "play" land. Not far from the pool were a few smallish buildings, several cheap plastic chairs and a sandy area meant to resemble a beach, in the center was a small stage. Those unfamiliar with these places and this aspect of gay life would be absolutely shocked to find out what goes on when male libido had no restraints.
Building one had a custom bench where guys interested in being entered anally could bend over and get fucked by strangers, there was always an appreciative audience. Building two was a BDSM set up with slings, crosses, and other sex paraphernalia. Three had a depressed area where guys could suck stranger's cocks while standing up. Outside and in, the beach men were making out, fondling each other, and, in some cases, just chatting.
On our arrival, she being naked wearing high heels and me semi-erect with my cock ring, were greeted with friendly nods, smiles, and men as eager to be exhibitionists as Sally was. After checking out the rooms and the beach, Sally found the whole thing degenerate, shocking, and intensely interesting. Getting into the swing of things, I pulled her close kissed her deeply, and began caressing her now incredibly warm body. Putting my hand between her legs I knew she was ready.
As she sat down, I moved her legs apart and dove in, her pussy was succulent. Several gawkers surrounded us and played with themselves as they watched. Sally then signaled her desire to enter Building One. The bench being empty, she bent over making herself available, no ass for me, I'll take a wet pussy any day. Pumping her and then retreating, we both managed to come like they do in the movies, loud noises and all. As is her way, she then got on her knees and spent a few minutes sucking my dick, she called it finishing with a flourish. I hardly noticed but throughout the whole thing, we had a substantial audience who got a lot more than they expected on that Friday night.
Returning to the pool, we showered and there being a DJ, we watched and listened to the music. Before long, a couple of Sally's admirers got her up on the dance floor where she remained for close to an hour dancing with just about everybody in the place. She could have been Bette Midler or Liza Minella, they loved her.
They hated to see us go...hated to see Sally go is the actual truth. Back at our hotel, we went for a midnight swim as Sally wondered if there were any similar places for women in Palm Springs. More is always better for my darling wife.