Only at the bar did it occur to me that I couldn't carry so many drinks at once. As I turned to bring the wine and two of the beers, I saw my wife push a card, a key card I guessed, into Ben's shirt pocket. His hand was between her legs. I acted like I hadn't seen. I had to make three trips to bring all the drinks to the table.

We were from out of town, but we had been scoping this place for months. It was a swinger club that got mixed reviews on yelp. Some liked it for its lack of pressure and its inclusiveness. Certainly, that appealed to us as newbies who felt a little sensitive about our middle-aged bodies. Some disliked it for the very same reason. To hell with them, we had said, they're turned off by curves, we're turned off by shallow people. The feeling was mutual.

The reviews mentioned couples-only areas, private rooms, a dance floor, and a BYO bar. They even mentioned that the club allowed in thirteen single men the first Friday of the month…though some said the guys tended toward sleazy. "Let's give it a try," I said. "if it looks sketchy, we'll go back to the hotel and have our own wild night fueled by the thrill of having at least sought the opportunity."

When we got there—Faith dressed in a black dress that accentuated her cleavage and her ample ass and me in a pair of jeans and a sports jacket—we realized the sleazy single guys were out of luck. All thirteen of the night's single guys were piling out of one of those monstrous Hummer-stretched-into-a-limo things (some already well into the bottle), and the last one, wearing a blindfold and a dopey grin, was helped from the door by his friends just as we walked up. Most of them were in their 30s (some a little younger, some a little older) and they came in all shapes, sizes, and colors. One of them pulled the blindfold off the last guy and they all laughed. He smiled, confused. "Oh cool...we're clubbing?" He didn't sound thrilled.

The guy at his right elbow put his hand on his shoulder and laughed. "You said you were worried about getting bored with married sex, so we brought you to see what wild couples do, brother! This is a swing club full of MILFs and cougars and, Ben, we're the only single guys in the joint!"

Ben seemed unconvinced…but we didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation, we were already going in. Two of the party guys held the door for us. They made no effort to take their eyes off my wife's cleavage. She smiled brightly and thanked them as if they had just thrown their coats into a puddle so she could keep her feet dry. I couldn't wait to make a comment to Faith about the guys coming in, but my heart raced in near-panic when we checked in with the host and hostess, got the house rules, and entered another set of doors. The place was big - a square bar in the middle of the room, a small dance floor, lots of large and plush booths, and a roped-off staircase in the back labeled “couples only.” One booth was packed with four couples who were laughing loudly. Scattered throughout were other couples greeting each other like old, bold friends... They were all so confident. No matter their age or shape, they radiated sexiness with their confidence.

When we came in, Faith clutched my arm and I squeezed her shoulder. We fantasized constantly about including others in our sex life, but we lacked one essential ingredient to make it happen: though we had tried online ads and even porn theaters, at the point of speaking to another couple, we both tended to freeze and cling to each other in a way that drove others off.

We already knew that while the club had a bar, they had no liquor license. So we poured drinks from the wine and liquor we had brought and left our cooler at the bar.  We found a booth at the edge of the empty dance floor that had empty booths on either side to act as a buffer. Thirty seconds inside our first swing club and we were already as far away from other people as we could get. I made up my mind to stay for an hour before we beat a retreat. Faith seemed just as uncomfortable.

Then the bachelor party came in. All eyes turned toward them. They stood in a herd, then moved in our direction to the only group of open tables in the place. Soon, we were surrounded as the party crowded into the booths on either side of us. Many of them were eager and they found ways to be noticed (at the bar, at the jukebox, crossing the dance floor). In ever smaller groups they drifted away from the herd and joined other couples and groups. They were having a blast.

But the groom and a few of his friends were less confident. They crowded into the booth to our right and exuded unease. We could hear them talking above the music about their bolder friends, laughing nervously. Ben, the groom, said very little, but after thirty minutes or so, he said "I've been with her a long time. I don't know any come-ons. I don't know how to speak first."

If there's one thing that can put a shy person at ease, it's the knowledge that the other person is even more nervous than they.  So maybe it was that urge to be helpful, mingled with wine and growing lust, that caused Faith to turn in her seat and say over the back of the booth, as cool and casual as if they were old friends, "You just say, 'Hi, I'm Ben. What's your name?'" I was as stunned as they were. I don't think I closed my mouth for several minutes. But it didn't matter. They began to chat across the back of the booth and no one paid the least attention to me. They each introduced themselves to Faith using exactly the formula she had proposed.

"Hi, I'm Ben. What's your name?" He got up and offered his hand over the back of the booth. He had sandy brown hair and was tall and average in build. I noticed his hands were big. I knew she liked that.

"Hi, I'm Michael. What's your name?" He waved and smiled. He was a little shorter than Ben, with thinning black hair going to grey, and he wore square glasses.

"Hi, I'm Tommy. What's your name?" He was shorter yet, a little younger than the others, with a hipster haircut and a thick blond beard.

"Hi, I'm Jason. What's your name?" He was a little heavier than the others, about my build, but he was the tallest of the group and had red hair and freckles and a very shy smile.

"Hi, I'm David. What's your name?" He was a black man built like a linebacker, and he was the one who had spoken to Ben as they were getting out of the limo. Of the group in that booth, he was clearly still in the booth out of loyalty to Ben as he spoke confidently and could easily have been mingling elsewhere.

They were mostly coworkers, though one (I think Michael) was Ben's college friend or something. Jason and Tommy wore wedding rings. They were all grateful that Faith had broken the ice and I was astonished that she was soon laughing and joking with the whole group. Soon, they asked if they could “buy” her a drink. "I’ll have a wine from the red cooler." She pointed to our cooler among the others by the bar, then reached behind her to touch my hand. "And another bourbon neat for him." The guys briefly looked around her at me, as if noticing me for the first time, and Michael and Jason trotted over to the bar area.

"If you're going to buy us drinks, we can at least share our table with you," I offered. They wasted no time. In deference to Ben as the groom, they let him in first. He slid in nervously beside Faith and she scooted a little closer to me. One by one they piled in, though never on my side, so that we all scooted in the same direction and I ended up at the edge of the booth with Faith to my right and all five guys arrayed to her right.

No one wanted to reveal too many personal details, so the conversation centered on the people in the club. The drinks flowed and they snickered at how one couple was dirty dancing with their friend, Ed, or how Jeff seemed to be arguing about hockey with a man while the guy's wife rubbed against the woman next to her. At first, everyone seemed more amused than excited, but the drinks kept coming and the men stared openly at my wife's tits.

I was nervous. This might go too far...by which I mean exactly what we had always talked about. I tried to draw their attention back to crowd-watching. "There goes another couple into the back." I pointed at an older couple walking around the red velvet ropes marking off the staircase that presumably led to the couples-only and private rooms. "Wonder what's happening up there? We should check it out at some point." As I said it, I imagined Faith and I would wander back there to explore and watch, to have a moment to reconnect and see where we wanted to see this go, then maybe return to our new friends.

But David intervened. He had put this whole thing together. Bought all the single-male tickets for the night months in advance. He had stayed with the group of wallflowers to try to ensure the groom, his best friend, had a wild night. "Faith, you know guys can't go up there alone. Maybe you could take Ben for a quick peek before you and your husband disappear on us. Ben ain't got the balls to ask anyone else to take him." He glanced challengingly at me. I didn't know what to say.

Faith poked me to move a little but she said to me, "Come on. I'll take him to look around for five minutes and come right back." Before I could answer, she leaned forward and kissed me passionately and reached down to rub my cock teasingly. "Don't worry," she whispered. Then she was pushing out of the booth and taking Ben by the hand. They disappeared up the stairs.

My heart was pounding. I looked at my phone to start the clock. I looked up and all four were looking at me. David's gaze was level. "How about another drink." It only half-sounded like a question.

The others tried to include me in their conversation, which was at first very nervous almost to the point of being shrill. But I kind of liked these guys. They were funny and they weren't players like some of their friends. But I couldn't help stealing glances at my phone to get the time. It was forty-five minutes before she reappeared. Michael got a text and we all had to get up to let him slide out and go to the bar. As we tried to sit down again, David slid in beside me. At the same time, I saw Faith walk back into the room with Ben. Her face was flushed and her hair was a little different. She paused at the rope and Ben said something to her and walked toward us. To my surprise, Michael walked directly to her, handed her a glass of wine, and the two of them disappeared up the stairs.

My heart was racing. "You're ok with this, right?" David said, with that same level gaze. "I mean that's why you came here, right?"

"Umm," I looked past him at Ben who was easing into the booth. His face was red. His hair was messy. His eyes were a little glazed.

He held out his hand toward me with his phone. "You're supposed to look at these and delete them."

I took the phone. The first shot was of a couple we had seen earlier. She was in a swing contraption with her legs spread and another couple appeared to be eating her while she lay back in the air and sucked a man's cock. The second shot was another combination of those four. I swallowed hard. The next shot was the couple helping Faith into the swing while the other couple stood by. The next shot was a very close-up shot of a man's face buried in a woman's pussy. In fact, there were several of those. The man was Ben. The pussy was Faith's. There were shots of him sucking her tits. They were all taken from her point of view. There were also shots of the two women sucking Ben. Faith's knee was in the edge of the shot, still in the swing stirrup. David and Tommy were pressed close to me on either side. They were as taken with the pictures as I was. I deleted them. My stomach was slithering but I was hard as a rock. I looked at Ben, who was obviously nervous.

"You ate my wife's pussy?" I asked. He nodded and unconsciously licked his lips. "Did you fuck her?" He shook his head. The table was silent. "Did she cum?" He smiled nervously. "Good. Good," I said.

They burst out laughing and he began to tell us how Faith had rubbed against him as soon as they were out of sight. How she had stared at the woman being eaten in the swing and asked if he would like to taste her. David looked at his phone and left the table and soon the pattern repeated. David and Faith disappeared up the stairs, Michael returned to the table and handed me his phone. This time, she appeared to be on a couch or a chaise. Michael was sucking her tits. He had his fingers buried in her pussy. Michael's head was between her legs. I deleted them, but not until we had all admired them.

When David came back (replaced by Tommy), he showed me similar shots. He looked directly into the camera as he licked her clit. But he had some different shots, too. In one shot, Faith's mouth was wrapped around a long black cock. In another, she was sucking on his balls. In one, he was lying on the couch and she was squeezing his cock between her tits. "Dude, your wife has a fine-tasting pussy, but her mouth...no one ever blew me like that."

They all got their turn. Tommy and Jason also got blowjobs. I deleted the pictures and waited for my turn.

Finally, Faith was at the table. She seemed a little wobbly. Her eyes were glazed with sex. Her hair and lipstick were a mess. I could smell how wet she was. I could smell her on the faces and hands of the guys. I stood up and she wrapped her arms around me and planted her hot mouth on mine. I imagined I could taste them in her mouth. "Take me back to the room and fuck me," she said...and not especially quietly. I would have run to the car, but she then slid into the booth. "But first, let's buy a round for the boys," she said. "They worked hard."

I stood to go to the bar. I couldn't wait to have her. I was painfully hard. I just wanted to fix the round and go as quickly as possible. They had brought several coolers, so it took some time to find everything I was looking for and stack it on the bar.

Only then did it occur to me that I couldn't carry so many drinks at once. As I turned to bring the wine and two of the beers, I saw my wife push a card, a key card I guessed, into Ben's shirt pocket. His hand was between her legs. I acted like I hadn't seen. I had to make three trips to bring all the drinks to the table.