My husband and I moved to Philadelphia, so he could attend grad school, in August 1978.  We’d been married just over a year.  I was only twenty-three then.  Neither of us was familiar with city, but we quickly found an apartment we were very happy with. It was some distance from both the university and my eventual job, but we had a car and there was a nearby train stop.

I was also fortunate in finding a job, as an administrative assistant at a consulting firm, soon after our arrival.  My immediate boss, Jeremy, was a somewhat eccentric man - well, most of the people there were eccentric.  It was a very funky organization.  Jeremy’s girlfriend, Kathryn, also worked at the firm.  She was what was politely called a wild child and, if her tales of their escapades were true, so was he.  In fact, I’d only worked with him a few months when he began telling me about the swinger group he and Kathryn belonged to.

As far as I knew, I’d never met a swinger.  I might have been newly married, but I was still quite inhibited about sexuality.  I was still a virgin at nineteen when I met my husband.  He was still the only man I’d actually had sex with.  Even though I’d been in high school and college during the 70s, I didn’t find that odd.  My mother set the example that sex was something men invented for their pleasure. No woman really wanted sex.  To Mom, romantic, physical contact was silly and unnecessary.  So, I had only a vague, and somewhat prejudiced, idea of swingers.

My mother’s influence pretty much controlled my sex life for a long time.  Of course, I masturbated and had fantasies from time to time, but never seriously considered taking joy in the sex act itself.  I had a fixed expectation I wouldn’t like sex, and I did everything I could to make sure that’s what happened.  Most of the time, anyway.  My husband found all this very frustrating.  That upset me but not enough to make any changes in the way I thought.  He tried all the things men usually do to arouse desire in their wives.  I wasn’t much interested. I mean, we did have sex, but as seldom as I could manage it.  My husband is a very good-looking man and I knew other women saw that, too.  But I was fairly sure he wouldn’t stray.

By February, I’d been promoted to a management position and my husband was settled into the grad program.  I was wrapping up a meeting in Jeremy’s office one afternoon when he started telling me about a party he and Kathryn had been to that weekend.  He didn’t go into explicit detail, except to say there was group sex and multiple partner doings.  I didn’t think much about it at the time because he often said things just to see my reaction.

But that night in bed, despite my inhibitions, I couldn’t get vivid images of women doing it with more than one man out of my head.  That had been an occasional (if largely suppressed) fantasy of mine since college.  My thoughts led to a long, very erotic dream.  Finally, I rose at around 5AM, went into the bathroom and fingered myself to orgasm.

At work the next day, I was still imagining sex scenes when Jeremy stopped by my cubicle.  Maybe he had radar for these things.  I could tell something was up. Eventually he got around to saying that he was hosting the next swinger group party at his apartment in Center City, and that my husband and I were welcome to attend.  “Don’t worry,” he assured me, “You won’t know anyone other than Kathryn and no-one will know you.  I’ll just say you’re friends. Everyone is very discreet.  You’d not be obligated to do anything…Ah, you know, sexual.  Just see what you think.”  I was noncommittal but, probably because of what I'd been imagining, my usual level of inhibition was lower. I had to confess, I was somewhat intrigued.

That evening after dinner, I mentioned the conversation to Hubby.  He is a combat veteran whose emotions can be tricky, so I was never quite sure how he’d react to things.  “You mean spouse-swapping and that sort of thing?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “he only mentioned group sex that he and his girlfriend had been part of.  You've met Kathryn, they probably get up to all sorts.”

“Hmm, I can see those two being into that." He was silent for several minutes.  "So you’d go?”

“Only from curiosity, just to see what it's all about.”  I quickly added, "I mean, I’m not interested in doing any of that stuff.  I was just wondering…”

“Who’ll be there?”

“People in this group they belong to.  Like a club, I guess.  Nobody else from work or anyone we know. I understand they're mostly professional people.”

He thought it over.  “We don't have to see Jeremy naked, do we?"

I laughed at that thought, "Let's hope not!"

"Okay, if you want to, we can check it out.”

I was very surprised.  Hubby is not a puritan but he is a private person.  Maybe I was more surprised at myself, though.  This was the last thing I’d ever pictured us doing.  I certainly didn’t want to screw other men.  I didn’t want to see my husband with other women, either.  But there was something kicking at the back of my mind.  That crazy fantasy, I supposed.

-

The party was set for a Saturday evening about a week later.  I’d asked Kathryn what I should wear, so I dressed in a short cocktail dress and heels.  I don’t have great legs, but they are slim and my ankles are narrow.  The heels were much higher than I usually wore so they showed off what I had to advantage.  My breasts are quite small but they are firm and perky. I went to a gym regularly so my body was also slim and tight.  For some reason, I didn’t bother with a bra that night, so my nipples were likely to be prominently on display.  Well, it was a sex party, after all.

We arrived at Jeremy’s place at around 9PM.  There were perhaps a dozen people there - mostly forty-somethings, I thought. I did see a couple of women I judged to be about my age.  Second wives, most likely.  Jeremy greeted us immediately, fixed us drinks and introduced us to most of the others - first names only.  They seemed a casual and friendly group.

The evening progressed pretty much as parties always seemed to do.  I’ve never liked them much.  I suppose that was because I’m not good at smalltalk nor terribly social.  There was conversation that got louder and less coherent as the drinks multiplied.  There was flirting and all of that.  “Where is the swinging sex?” I wondered.  Then I noticed Kathryn in a corner, her body pressed against a tallish man.  Soon she was on her knees and….  Yes, she began giving him a rather energetic blowjob!  I couldn’t see Jeremy anywhere.  I flushed with embarrassment and turned away.   When I looked around, I could see that many of the guests had wandered to other rooms.

Hubby and I explored a little and found that the two bedrooms were in active use.  Indeed, there was group sex going on in one!  I’d not seen that in real life before.  It seemed to me more confused and vulgar than erotic.  I think it was Richard Burton who said that everyone having sex looks silly to someone else just watching. Usually true, I think.  But it was a woman in the other bedroom who drew my instant attention.  Oh my!  She was busy with three men, alternately sucking two dicks while the other rammed her from behind! They switched positions while I stared in fascination.  I was so intent that I started when my husband said, “I thought only porn actresses did that.”

My response was hushed and wholly spontaneous, “I think many women would like to, even if just in their imaginations.”  He glanced sharply at me but didn’t say anything more.  I was a little shocked, and deeply excited by the spectacle! My legs were actually wobbly.  I let Hubby steer me back to the living room where he made us another drink.  I hardly ever had more than one but I accepted distractedly.  I sat on a sofa, crossing my legs, to wait.  I guess I was showing a lot of leg - I know my nipples were definitely standing rigid - because I was quickly propositioned by two, fairly inebriated guys.  I politely declined, indicating my husband was walking our way with the drinks.

After we located Jeremy, said our goodbyes and returned home, he asked, “So, what did you think?  Ready for the swinging life?”

“Well, it was different.  Interesting in a way.  But I’m not the extramarital sex type. I don’t know, it seemed sort of indiscriminate, too.  Maybe they knew each other but it felt too much like random sex, maybe in an effort to conform with the swing scene.  I wouldn’t want that.  How about you?”   

“It was an experience.  I suppose we’d have to go to a few parties to really understand it.  But it didn’t get me all hot and bothered.”  It was very late - or early - so we went to bed.

Jeremy couldn’t wait on Monday to ask how I liked the party.  I thanked him again for inviting us and responded that we had a good time.  After some prodding on his part, I spoke about my impression of indiscriminate sex.

“Oh well,” he explained, “every person can set their personal parameters.  Once you get to know people, you just explain your desires and limits.  They’ll be respected.  You never have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”  It was obvious he wanted us in his group.  I was sure now he had hopes of eventually having sex with me.  That was not going to happen!  It would just be too weird.  Besides, I was not at all sexually attracted to Jeremy.  In the end, I told him we’d be willing to go to another of the parties.  There was a gathering every month at various private locations.

We were at the March meeting, which was much like the first event. We didn't participate in the sex bits.  But mid-evening, I spotted a lovely older woman approach Hubby and put her hand on his trouser-encased dick.  I flashed warmly with a jealousy that surprised me.  In a sort of revenge response, I let two separate men kiss me and feel me up - a totally unprecedented act for me!  To be fair, my husband hadn’t responded positively when that woman touched him or earlier when Kathryn made it obvious she’d like to take him to a bedroom.  So, I went through a lot of guilt about my unnecessary jealousy and what I’d allowed myself to do. I should have seen then that things were getting more complicated than I'd expected.

-

At the time of the April party, we were visiting family.  In May, my husband had to attend an out-of-state seminar for four days.  We were not finding much that either of us wanted to do at the parties, anyway.  So, I certainly had no plan to go to one without my spouse.  But then…

We don’t control what dreams we have or the reactions we have to them.  As usual, the May gathering was scheduled for a Saturday.  The night before, I dreamed a very sensual scene.  I was on my own at an event, very like one of Jeremy’s parties, and surrounded by a thoroughly turned-on group of men.  In actual life, I’d have fled in disgust.  But in my dream, I... well, not actually encouraged, but not discouraged them, either.  Their attention sexually excited me like it had never done in life.  I had visions of them actually fighting over who would claim me in the end! Claim? Best not to contemplate what that might mean.  The dream was so vivid and so stimulating that I woke to find myself fingering my clitoris to one of the most body-shaking climaxes I’d ever had.   

The dream haunted and excited me all morning. I couldn't stop myself from reliving it!  I’d not cheated on my husband nor, other than my fanciful reveries, thought about doing anything like that.  This wasn't about cheating or having other men.  But I wondered.  Could I really arouse that kind of male frenzy?  Could men actually want me that much?  And, could I enjoy it? That was the real point. In the past, I'd absolutely recoil from any sexuality based male attention. Did I want it now?   The only means I could think of for finding out was to go to the swinger group, where at least I knew the people would be safe.  Hubby wouldn’t be home until Sunday evening, so I’d have to do it alone. Maybe that was for the best.    

The group met at a home I was familiar with.  The crowd that evening was also familiar, but more numerous than at most of the gatherings.  That was probably because the house was so large.  Luckily, it wasn’t unusual for wives to be there without their husbands so I wasn’t terribly uncomfortable.  Kathryn was there but Jeremy was away on business.  I wasn’t displeased by that.  If I was to be the center of some strange male attention, I wasn’t keen on having my boss watch.

I needn’t have worried about the attracting men part.  I was barely into the huge living area before a handsome youngish man offered to get me a drink.  He was someone I’d seen perhaps twice, but had not spoken with before.  The drink he fetched was very strong.  I would have to be careful about that. There was a sort of family/game room off the living area with an actual bar, complete with stools.  My companion and I moved to the bar and I perched on a stool, showing a great deal of thigh as I did.  I was also wearing a low cut blouse and pushup bra (not padded, just uplifting) that produced more visible cleavage than I normally had.  My excuse was that this was an experiment.  Just to satisfy my curiosity...

Within far fewer minutes than I would have guessed, I had a collection of male admirers maneuvering to get close to me and competing for my attention.  It wasn’t precisely mania, but it was more fervent than I’d anticipated.  Occasionally, a hand brushed against my body or legs, possibly by accident.  Some of the guys were so close I was beginning to be a bit claustrophobic.  Still, I admit to being aroused by the stir I was causing. It was amazing, like my dream!

My original escort had stood back watching the game with an amused expression, but he now worked his way to the bar, almost snuggling just behind me.  I turned a tiny bit to include him in my view.  He was so near that my shoulder and arm were pressed against his muscular chest and abdomen.  His body heat was making me…well, hot in more than one way.  When he placed his hand on my thigh, I made no objection or moved away. I caught myself glancing to check the expanding bulge in his trousers. To my utter astonishment, I swung the stool slightly so my knee rested against it! I swore I could feel his penis throbbing. 

“Wait, this is crazy," I told myself,” he'll think I'm going to let him screw me! This is going way too far!”  Plus, I needed to address my increasing wetness before my skirt was marked!  I smiled and excused myself to the powder room.

I cleaned up a bit, cooled off and tried to calm my agitation.  When I opened the door, I found my barstool friend waiting.  I looked up at his face in surprise but, before I had the chance to say anything, he eased me into a window alcove just along the hallway.  I should have immediately stopped him but, instead, I succumbed to a long, sensual kiss.  His hands were on my bottom, squeezing my cheeks and hiking my skirt up, while he continued to kiss me.  His imposing hard-on was pressed right against my body, reducing my resistance even further.         

What was I doing?  I'm ashamed to say, I actually let him unfasten my blouse and raise the front of my bra to fondle and suck on my breasts.  My brain was screaming, ”This is getting out of control! You have to stop him.”  But my feelings were paying no attention. 

His hand went between my legs.

Finally, I grabbed his wrist and said, “No!  Really I have to go now.  I’m very late.”  For what, I didn’t explain.  Taken by surprise, he did back off.  In compensation, I reached for and squeezed that very hard dick through his pants!    

I scurried away, with as much dignity as I could muster, and made for my car.  At home, after a long hot shower, I settled into my solitary bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep.  No dreams.  But in the morning, over a light breakfast, I had a heavy case of player’s remorse. 

“What was that about? What a god-awful thing to do,” I chided myself.  “You were acting like a whore!  Did you want those men to fuck you?” 

ell no, I didn’t.  But, If I tell the whole truth, I had come to realize that, deep down, I'd missed the opportunity for sexual exploration when I was younger.  I regretted that in some ways.  When I was in college, if I’d been in the situation I created last night, and I knew then what I knew later, would I have had full sex with that guy? Maybe. Probably.

I drove to the university that evening to pick up Hubby.  Once he was seated, I leaned across and passionately kissed him - only partly from guilt.  When I knew I had him fully aroused, I lowered his zipper and worked his engorged penis free of his jeans. I love that musky pre-cum scent!  He was certainly surprised by my sudden ardor.  I went straight down on him, taking as much as I could, until the tip was pressing the back of my throat.  It was as near to deep-throating as I’d ever gone.

In spite of gagging a little and tearing quite a lot, I sucked and sucked until my cheeks ached.  When I switched to licking and kissing, I could feel his shaft twitching and jumping against my lips and tongue.  Then I took it back into my mouth, sucking first gently then more vigorously, until his body jerked rigid and he fired a great, hot stream of semen directly down my throat.  At least a lot went down my throat. But he continued to pump until I didn’t believe my mouth could hold any more.  When he was finally exhausted, I looked directly into his eyes and swallowed it all in two gulps. (Where did I get that from? What a hussy I was becoming!)  I mopped my lips with my tongue, smiled and kissed him again.

I knew he was wondering what on earth had gotten into me.  For sure, I’d tell him about my adventure, probably tonight.  I was tempted to lay out my fantasy, as well, but realized quickly I wasn’t ready yet. But soon.