My Debauchery

Okay. I'll admit it. It was me who first suggested swinging. And my husband's rejection of the idea was emphatic to say the least. The truth is, after twelve years of marriage and in our late 30's, our sex life had become, well, boring and repetitive.

In our early days we had been quite adventuresome, trying different things and discovering what we liked. He had drunk champagne from my vagina and I had sucked raspberry jam from his cock. He fucked me up my arse (I liked it) and I had swallowed his cum. Just another normal couple experimenting with what had been forbidden to us in our religious upbringing before marriage.

It is fair to say that I no longer have the body I had when I met him. I was slim with smallish tits and prominent hip bones. Two children and some good food later, my tits now need a D-cup and my hip bones are no longer discernable. I hate to say it, but my bum is bigger too. After the kids, I worked hard to get my flat tummy back and succeeded to the extent that my waist measurement is back to what it was when I was 16 but the rest just refuses to shrink. I like to think that it gives me a much more dramatic waist-to-hip ratio and what might be considered quite a good figure.

John (my husband) has also gained some weight but he has lost some hair to compensate. He is no Mr Atlas but he does still have a nice bum and I still find his uncircumcised cock inviting when it is hard and with his foreskin retracted to show his pear-shaped knob.

So... now you know a bit about us. Perhaps it was John's complacency (or was that disinterest) that got me to looking a little more lustfully at men I saw in the street, speculating on what their cocks might look like and what they would do to me if they could. In times of solitude, when the kids were in bed and John was away on business, I would succumb to my filthiest fantasies and masturbate myself to sleep. I bought a vibrator to help me and when John found out about it, he shoved it up my cunt a few times, fucked me with his cock and went to sleep. He never touched it again.

One day, hoping to inject something new into our sex lives, I grabbed his cock while he was pissing and told him I would like him to piss on my pussy. His flow stopped immediately and he angrily told me never to do that again, that I was disgusting and he slept with his back to me for weeks.

Months later, after our sex life had resumed, he astonished me by suggesting that we join a nudist club. We needed to meet new people, he said. People who were just like us (!) I seriously doubted that anyone who was a nudist would have a sex life as boring as ours but he went on to explain that he had seen a club advertised that was described as a family club with children's playgrounds, camping facilities and a great social calendar.

Considering my own now habitual crotch-gazing, I thought that it might be exciting to see the naked reality and enjoy the view of a few loose cocks and I really didn't mind that he would no doubt feast his eyes on all the tits he was likely to see. My thought of the possibility that we might find ourselves mixing with other couples who enjoyed a swinging lifestyle hadn't escaped me but I kept quiet about that and just agreed with his suggestion as any compliant wife would.

Our first foray to the club was a sizzling hot summer's day. I wore shorts and a loose top without a bra and I noticed that John forgot his underwear when he dressed in his light-weight slacks and a colourful Hawaiian shirt. On arrival we were met by the club's secretary and his wife, a middle-aged couple, both stark naked. They showed us around the grounds, the play area and the swimming pool, the club house and the main sunbathing lawn, scattered with dozens of nude couples.

Our guide invited us to find a spot that we liked on the lawn and told us if we needed to know anything, to just ask someone. Then he and his wife wandered off in the direction of the pool.

John and I undressed, somewhat hesitantly but realizing that we were more conspicuous with clothes on, we soon felt the freedom that social nudity can provide. We looked around and absorbed the spectacle of families chatting together, picnicking or just enjoying the sun. We oiled each other's backs and settled down to watch the activity.

True to expectations, John's eyes darted from one pair of breasts to another, some big, some small, some old and wrinkly, others with huge nipples that made me think of the words "well chewed." But my main interest was the cocks. Most men seemed to contrive to hide them between their legs when they were sitting but those who were walking around swung in all shapes and sizes, some circumcised (something I had not seen before) and others perched over a pair of enormous balls that looked as though they must be painful even to walk.

A couple of around our own age came over and introduced themselves. The wife was quite pretty but her most notable feature was her total lack of pubic hair. Her husband was fairly nondescript and duly tucked his penis out of sight as he sat down. John had not yet learned that trick and as his eyes worked down the woman's body to her hairless mound, I noticed a distinct stirring down there of which he was seemingly unaware. Christine, as she had named herself, was not at all unaware of the effect she was having on him and arranged herself to provide him with an uninhibited view of her pouty pussy lips. John's cock grew to a full erection which she seemed to find amusing but she made no comment. Her husband, Kevin, perused my body, lingering on my inverted nipples (did I forget to mention that?), moved on down to my hairy triangle and then, apparently satisfied (or not), gazed off into the distance. Eventually they moved off and I teased John about his hard-on. He was embarrassed that I had noticed and scowled. I told him that I hoped to see more cocks with erections but that did not seem to impress him, either.

The thought had crept into my mind though, how much I would like to see men's cocks hardening just from looking at me and I made a point of lying back on the grass with my legs spread a little more than might have been seemly, in the hope of inspiring some arousal from the males passing by. However, I was disappointed. It seems that most nudist men have seen so many naked pussies that they scarcely spared more than a glance. I decided to shave myself as had Christine and figured that if nothing else, it might make John a little more interested in me.

That night in the bath, I got busy with my razor, lifting first one leg, then the other to get the bare look in between them. It was hard to know when to stop so I carried on back around my anus as well, just to be sure that no wayward tufts would spoil the effect when my legs were spread wide in front of strange men! All this handling of my bits made me just a little horny and I finished off with a nice little masty just as John came into the bathroom. He didn't comment but I noticed when he came to bed that he, too, had managed to clean shave his cock and balls, although his belly and his arse were still as hirsute as ever.

He fucked me with some vigour that night so I concluded that nudism was likely to be considered a successful experiment.

We went to the club almost every weekend after that. I did get to see one man, apparently asleep on his back, with the most amazing hard-on that twitched as he breathed. Another man asked if I would like to shower with him and stroked my bum when John wasn't looking. I declined but I would rather have said yes. I "accidentally" brushed his cock with the back of my hand, to show I wasn't rejecting him; just unsure of the outcome. He grinned and said, "Later then." If John noticed, he gave no sign.

On another occasion, I found John in the pool with a heavy-breasted woman standing next to him, so close that her nipples were brushing his chest. A closer look showed that she had his cock in her hand and was busy wanking him under the water. In the minute or so before he noticed me, I saw a trail of semen floating away in the water as he made a final lurch into her hand. "Permission granted," I thought exuberantly to myself. "My turn next!" He tried to pretend that nothing had happened as he turned to greet me but I had my weaponry now and was determined to use it.

For the rest of the day, I spread my legs shamelessly at every opportunity and was rewarded by a good many interested stares from a variety of men. Several couples who sat down to talk to us seemed to find it hard to keep their eyes above our waists and I treated one particularly yummy specimen to me absently retracting my clit hood to show him just how horny I was feeling. His response was an almost instant erection that he proudly displayed for a few moments before tucking it under his thigh with obvious difficulty. His wife and John were seemingly oblivious and conversing about rhododendrons or some such.

The nudist club had seemed as though it might be a fertile ground to find swingers but in reality, apart from a few surreptitious gropings, there was no indication that we would be invited to participate in any wild orgies. The next time John was out of town, I turned my attention to the internet, seeking hopefully for a swingers group locally that might consider us as members. After perusing a lot of pornographic advertisements for couples who simply wanted to swap wives (or husbands) I eventually found a site dedicated to groups. "Group with indoor interests," the ad ran, "seek broad-minded couples with an appetite for variety and adventure."

I sent off a reply suggesting that we may be interested and was astonished that within seconds an email arrived inviting us to a house a few blocks away for an interview. I wrote back explaining that my husband was away but that I would talk to him about it when he returned. The next email said that it would be fine if I came alone at first and that they could interview my husband later if he was interested. So it was arranged that the next night I would visit a couple who described themselves as "attractive" and "well endowed."

I didn't know what to wear to such an interview so I decided that less might well be more under the circumstances. I showered and painstakingly ensured that I removed any possible stubble from my crotch. Then, in a frilly g-string, short skirt and lacy bra under a see-thru top, I set off to the address I had been given. Despite feeling justified after John's indiscretion in the pool, I was nervous and unsure what to expect. Would they just want to ask me questions or would I have to prove my willingness?

Somewhat nervously, I rang the bell and the door was promptly answered by a quite respectable-looking man in elastic-waisted track pants and a tee-shirt that read "Swingers play better golf." Instinctively my eyes sought out the bulge in his pants and the obviousness of what they found sent a thrill up my legs to the very top. He smiled and led me through to a small sitting room where a decidedly busty woman in an almost transparent negligee lounged on a sofa. He introduced her as his wife, Margaret and told me that his name was Peter in swinging circles, for obvious reasons. I was offered a seat in a very low chair that I knew would be providing an almost perfect view up my short skirt. However, I sat and resisted the urge to cross my legs.

"So you want to have sex with other people besides your husband?" Peter asked, as though he were asking whether I wanted a cup of tea. What could I say? I nodded.

"Please answer, yes or no, dear," Margaret chimed in.

"Yes." It slipped out so easily. Almost too easily.

"You want men to stick their cocks up your cunt and fuck you, to root your arsehole and give you lots of cum to drink?" Her refined voice gave the lie to the crudity of her words. "And you want people to watch this happening to you?" I hadn't thought of that aspect of it but the excitement that the idea generated in me was undeniable.

"Yes!" Where did that come from? Here I was agreeing to be fucked in all my holes by men I had not even met yet.

"Some people may want to do more than just fuck you," Peter put in. "Have you ever tried water sports — you know, pissing games?" He asked. I remembered asking John to piss on my cunt and told him so.

"I'll do anything anyone asks me to." What? Not only had I agreed to be fucked by strangers but to allow myself to be used in what might turn out to be the most obscene ways imaginable! And what was more, my cunt was drenched at the thought of it.

"So, would you like to show us what you're offering?" Margaret's voice was soft and persuasive. My first thought was that she was asking me to pay an admission fee and realised that I had left my handbag in the car. Seeing my momentary confusion, she explained, "We would like to see you naked."

Slowly I stood up and unbuttoned my blouse, dropping it on the floor behind me. My bra followed, my breasts, exposed with my inverted nipples hard but still inverted. It took a lot of sucking to make them stand up. My skirt followed, dropping to my feet and I realised that my sopping g-string was pulled tightly between my labia from the position I had been sitting in. Committed now, I pulled it down and stood totally naked in the middle of the floor.

"Turn around, dear." Margaret's voice was soft and seductive as I slowly rotated showing them my shaven pubes and bare bottom. I felt much more exposed now than I ever had at the nudist club, even though I was no more naked now than there.

"Show me your cunt," Peter told me and spreading my feet wide apart and bending my knees a little I grasped my cunt between my fingers, pulling it forward for them to see my swollen lips. I exposed my clit and stood there, not knowing quite what was expected beyond this.

"Do you want to fuck her?" Margaret's question was directed at Peter who then turned to me.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked bluntly. I nodded shyly and then remembering that they liked verbal answers, whispered, "Yes."

"When you join us, you will be asked that question a lot," he told me. "You will also be asked how you want to be fucked and you must be as explicit as possible, holding nothing back."

Throwing caution to the winds, I said, "I want you to shove your big hard cock up my cunt and fuck me, make me suck your knob so I can taste your cum and I want you to fuck me hard up my arsehole and fill me up with your cum." There. I'd said it. There was no going back now. He told me to kneel across Margaret's knees and as I did so she parted her legs slightly to allow my tits to hang between them.

Peter had removed his pants and without ado knelt in front of me, pushing his hardening cock into my mouth. As I sucked I could feeling him stiffening to full erection in my mouth and arching my back to get a better angle, tried to take his full length down my throat. My swallowing action seemed to make his knob swell even bigger until I thought he might choke me. Margaret's hand was probing between my pussy lips until I could feel her fingers moving inside me. I could feel my juices starting to run down my legs as she skilfully tantalised me.

Then he was behind me. Someone was spreading my cunt lips as I felt his cock rammed full depth into me in one stroke. He fucked me without mercy, hammering my cervix with his knob with every stroke. I had been on the brink of climax when he entered me and now I could hold back no longer. My cunt exploded into a quivering, pulsing orgasm. As it subsided, I realised that someone had forced their finger into my anus and had felt every spasm that had gripped me. As he continued to fuck me, so did the finger, teasing my arsehole open and preparing me to be sodomised.

I felt a momentary coolness as fresh air replaced the finger in what I was sure must be a gaping hole. Then His ramrod tool was forced up my bum hole, further and further until I thought it could go no further. His cock felt enormous as it stretched my seldom-fucked rectum until I screamed. Slowly at first and then faster and faster, he rooted me, his balls slapping my clit and swollen labia with each thrust. I could say I came again but that would be an understatement. Quite without my consent, my arse gripped his cock in a vice-like grip that prevented him from any movement in and out and had him locked at full depth inside. As the waves of my orgasm roared through me from head to foot, my body convulsed across Margaret's knees, my tits trapped firmly between them. Then his balls seemed to tighten, pressed as they were against my clit as he began pumping my bottom full of his super-heated semen.

Finally he withdrew and as I stood with trembling knees I could feel his cum exuding from my bum, coating the inside of my cheeks and dribbling down my legs. I tried to clench my sphincter to hold it in but I had been stretched too wide and could not control the flow. I reached for my panties to wipe myself but Margaret took them from me and said simply, "No."

They allowed me to dress without my g-string but I was reluctant to sit down again because of the tell-tale stain that would be left on the back of my skirt. I began to wonder what John would say if I told him that I had been fucked in every hole by a man who, an hour ago, I had never met while his wife had fingered me and squeezed my tits between her knees.

I decided that I wouldn't tell him. At least, not until he had experienced a similar episode or two with another woman. They offered me a glass of wine but I declined. I felt far too shaky to trust myself and they seemed to understand. They promised to contact me with instructions on how to get to the next meeting of the group. I asked about John's interview and they laughed.

"Oh I'm sure I can get him to perform adequately if you can get him to come," Margaret giggled. "Does he have a big cock?"

"Not huge but nice," I told her. I figured that with his liking for tits the size of Margaret's and his cock in her mouth, he would make quite a good showing of himself and I was determined to see to it that he did. That little sneaky wank he had enjoyed in the pool had started an avalanche and there was no way I was going to allow it to stop there.

When I got home, I stripped naked and tried to examine my arse in a hand mirror. True to expectations, my whole crotch was reddened and swollen but surprisingly my arsehole wasn't gaping quite as much as it felt like. Steaks of dried cum lined my thighs and I can't remember when I had felt more satisfied. I ran a bath and soaked for a long time in the water, remembering the touch of a stranger's hands on my body and the feel of his prick penetrating my most secret depths.

When John returned from his trip, I made no mention of my 'interview,' and he seemed to be too tired for sex, going straight to sleep. I began to wonder if he was not, in fact, having some fun of his own on his trips and not telling me.

The next weekend was raining and we did not go to the nudist club. Instead, I had told him that I had met some people who were keen to swing with us if he was agreeable. He looked a little shocked at first and asked if this meant that I was prepared to have other men screwing me at such a party. I said that I wouldn't mind if I knew he was having fun too and pointed out that he would be meeting lots of horny women who wanted nothing more than for him to fuck them. Then I told him that I had seen him cumming in the hand of the woman at the pool and knew that he wouldn't have minded screwing her if he could have.

That convinced him. When the email arrived giving directions to the house for our first swinging party, I showed it to him. The instructions were specific. Since this was to be our first introduction to the group, we were to be the guests of honour and the centre of attention. For some reason, this seemed to flatter John and he raised no objection to the rest of the requirements.