Sandie's First Swing

The room was strewn with discarded clothing; both mine and Paul's as well as the normal untidiness of a holiday bedroom. Eventually I spotted a long T shirt Paul had been wearing the previous day and slipped it over my head. It just about covered my bottom so, holding it down in case the kids appeared, I tiptoed from the room and into the hallway en route to the bathroom.

"Hi Mummy!" I span around to see where the greeting had come from. "Why are you wearing Uncle Paul's top?" My ten year old daughter Emily was sitting on the stairs in her pyjamas, rubbing her eyes. "The boys are making too much noise. I can't sleep. What's that funny smell?"

Still more than a little dopey myself, all I could do was whisper.

"It's too early to come down yet Sweetheart. Pop up and tell the boys they can watch TV up there if they keep the sound down low."

Emily frowned a little, but the prospect of being able to tell the older children what to do had a powerful appeal. She turned and skipped back up the stairs then paused and turned.

"Auntie Lisa was making a terrible noise last night. Did she hurt herself?" My heart skipped a beat. Had the kids -- especially the boys who were older -- heard the sounds of our fucking and understood what was going on beneath them?

"She was just having a bad dream, Em..." I replied reassuringly. "Did it keep you all awake?"

"No Mum." She replied and I felt so relieved. "Just me." And with that she went up and into the dorm room.

I breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief and opened the bathroom door, slipping inside silently and locking it behind me before turning slowly around to look in the mirror and face the fallen woman I felt sure would stare accusingly back at me.

To my surprise, I had not grown devil's horns during the night -- the woman in the mirror was definitely me, but not a 'me' I would want anyone else to see. My hair was a mess, my remaining make up smudged over my face -- a face that was flushed pink. My eyes still bore some make-up but were puffy and dull.

I groaned when I saw two large, dark love bites on my neck. Oh my God! Hickeys! I hadn't had one of those since I was in school. What could Paul have been thinking of? What other damage would I find? Gingerly I grasped the hem of the T shirt and rolled it up and over my head, casting it aside nervously then stared carefully at my naked body in the mirror.

My posture sagged with shame but to my relief, there were no more love bites immediately visible although my chest was flushed pink too. My boobs ached terribly and as I carefully inspected them, I noticed there were small bruises on the sides as if from fingertips and my nipples were very sore. I shuddered as I noticed the fading remains of teeth marks on the sides of both.

What had I done? I knew I had to look in one further place to find out.

With great trepidation I raised one foot onto the side of the bath and bent over to inspect the final 'scene of the crime' between my legs. What I saw shocked me. Firstly my pubic hair was matted with dried and drying semen and the smell of stale sex was palpable. My outer lips were angrily swollen, red and puffy, as were my inner lips and there were thin trickles of semen down the inside of both thighs. There was a second large dark love bite on the inside of my left thigh too.

Jesus! What had he done to me? What had I let him do? And what had I done to him? How on earth could I face Tom?

I stepped into the shower and washed and washed myself until my skin hurt, as if mere soap and water could erase the shame and guilt. My vulva was too sore to wash as thoroughly as I wanted with semen oozing from me even as I showered, but eventually I felt a little more human, stepped onto the bath mat, carefully dried myself off, wrapped my body in the towel and nervously stepped outside the bathroom door.

In the hallway I realised I had a problem. My clean clothes were in our bedroom -- a room in which my husband and my 'friend' were probably still in bed together. I couldn't bear the thought of finding them asleep in the same bad, surrounded by the evidence of infidelity I had myself left in the room with Paul -- or even worse, walk in on them having one last fuck 'for the road'. My dirty clothes were in the room with Paul and I couldn't bear to go in there again and face my guilt -- or have to dissuade Paul from wanting a last fuck with me.

What could I do? Well I'm British so obviously I went to make tea in the kitchen, still wrapped in my towel, hoping none of the kids would come down and see me. Ten minutes later, shivering in the cold and hugging a warm mug to my bruised chest, I felt a bit better. Above my head I could hear the TV playing and the kids chatting loudly. I tried to hear what they were saying but it was no good.

"Morning..." A muffled voice said from behind me.

I turned to see Lisa standing in the kitchen doorway dressed only in Tom's checked shirt. Something prevented us making more than the most fleeting of eye contact but in that half-second I was able to take in her appearance. Lisa looked as bad as I had felt before my shower. Something vindictive in me was pleased that this woman nearly ten years younger than me could look so bad after a night of passion but then I remembered that this was the woman my husband had fucked so spectacularly volubly the night before and I added anger to my mix of shame and guilt.

"Tea?" I asked as casually as I could manage and she nodded, clasping the mug to her chest as I had done before sloping away silently towards the bathroom, walking a little strangely as if she too was sore...

There was an air of tired, hung-over, guilt-ridden tension throughout the cottage as we eventually rose and dressed. I wore the dowdiest jeans and highest-necked top I could find but the hickey was still visible above the neckline. Barely a word was exchanged as Lisa and the two men took turns to use the bathroom. While Paul was in the shower I recovered my clothes from his and Lisa's room, shuddering at the memory of what had happened there one hours before.

The terms of our rental meant we all had to be out by 10am so there was no time for post mortems, recriminations or accusation. The kids must have realised something was wrong because the four adults barely spoke to each other while packing and cleaning the cottage, and none of us ate breakfast -- we were barely able to look each other in the eye.

Finally the two cars were packed and the kids hugged and fastened in the back seats. It was the moment I had dreaded -- goodbye time. With stiff formality, Tom shook Paul's hand and kissed Lisa on the cheek. Lisa appeared to want to kiss him on the lips but Tom avoided them. I kissed Lisa too and she squeezed my hand as we parted, looking anxiously into my eyes. I'm not sure what she saw. Finally it was my turn to kiss Paul goodbye. He pecked me on the cheek as if nothing had happened but as he did so he whispered "Call me... please!"

And so the holiday came to an awkward, embarrassing end.

The journey home was over three hours long and, once the kids had settled with their ipods and books, an uneasy silence fell between Tom and me. I suppose we both knew this had to be discussed but neither of us wanted to start. After nearly a whole hour staring out of the window and fidgeting painfully on my sore bottom, Tom made the first attempt to break the ice.

"Are you... ok?" He ventured. I nodded.

"I'm not sure what happened last night, I..." He continued.

"You fucked Lisa right in front of me, that's what happened?" I hissed angrily, as if to distract from my own guilt. To his credit, Tom didn't react badly.

"I think we both surprised ourselves, don't you? If what I heard coming from your room last night is anything to go by!" I wondered what exactly he meant. Certainly my own behaviour had been quite unlike anything I had done before. "I mean we both discovered a side to our nature we didn't realise was there."

"I suppose you're right." I replied. "And I suppose if we don't talk about it the whole thing will fester and cause damage we can't repair. If that's not already happened."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean do you want to leave me now?" I said softly but firmly.

"For Lisa? I don't think she's on offer!"

"I mean now I'm... soiled goods! Can you live with me after what Paul did... what I did...?"

"Do you want to leave me after what I did?" He challenged.

"I don't think so. No, I know I don't" I replied after a few moments' thought. Tom was visibly relieved.

"So we'll try and work our way through this? Together? Not just for the kids?"

"We'll try. I still love you even though I hate what you did. And you must feel the same about me I guess."

"That's good. Because I still love you too but I can't bear to think of him doing... all those things I heard... to you."

"It wasn't easy for me, hearing all the noise coming from our room -- OUR room, Tom."

"I know, I'm sorry." He sounded sorry too.

I squeezed his hand and he squeezed mine and silence descended but in a much more bearable atmosphere.

"Did you... do it... a lot?" He asked with a shame-faced look as if not wanting to know the answer but unable not to ask the question.

I frowned, desperate to get the confessions over and move on -- or was it to stop facing my -- no, our -- guilt?

"A few times." Was my cryptic reply. Tom made a strange guttural sound as if in distress. "It's not as if you were a monk is it?" I hissed angrily. "Lisa's squealing woke up Emily. You could hear it all over the house!"

"I know!" He hissed back. "She was insatiable. It almost scared me!" Now it was my turn to snort in derision. "Sorry. But she was."

"Did you... you know... inside her?" I asked, remembering how Tom's face looked above mine whenever he climaxed within me. It was a face I had previously thought only I would ever see.

"Yes." He replied after a pause. There was a longer pause then he went on. "Well in the condom anyway. Lisa had a box by the bed even though she knows I had the 'snip''.

He thought for another second before asking almost threateningly. "Did Paul... cum...inside you too?"

"Yes..." I replied as softly as I could then suddenly shot back in my seat. "Oh my God!" I exclaimed in a hoarse whisper as realisation dawned. It had clearly dawned on Tom too.

"Didn't you use any... protection?" He asked almost inaudibly, as if unwilling to utter the words. My heart stopped and my blood ran cold.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Was all I could reply.

"What? You didn't?"

"I didn't think. You and I never need it so... I didn't think!"

"Christ! You let him cum in you unprotected? All those times?"

"Oh my God!"

"You could be pregnant!"

"Jesus! Tom I'm so sorry..."

"He could have knocked you up already! How many times did you do it?"

"Three. No, four! I don't knowwww!" I confessed, my head sinking into my chest.

"Four times? And you slept with it all inside you all night?"

I nodded, my eyes quite unable to meet his. Tom breathed in slowly and noisily.

"Well at the very least we have to get you the morning after pill really quickly." He croaked. "We'll go to a pharmacist on the way back, that way no-one will know who you are."

I could feel the tears beginning to run down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Tom. I didn't mean it to happen. I'm sorry any of it happened..." I snuffled, ashamed, as if I couldn't even get infidelity right.

To my surprise, he reached across the gear shift and held my hand. He squeezed it.

"I'm sorry too. I don't know what came over us. Neither of us should have done it. It's not your fault -- well not just your fault. There's enough guilt to go round."

There was a long pause. I stared out of the window at the fields flashing past.

"Do you think we will get over it?" I asked through my drying tears. Tom didn't reply straight away.

"Do you want to?" He eventually countered. I nodded emphatically, adding:

"If you can forgive me."

Tom went silent for what seemed like a long time but can only have been a couple of minutes.

"I can if you can." He eventually whispered, raising my hand to his lips.

I dissolved in tears.

Later on in the journey we pulled off the motorway and stopped for lunch in a market town nearby. While Tom took the kids to McDonalds -- something I would never have allowed in normal circumstances -- I found a medium sized pharmacy and obtained the morning after pill, not without more than a few white lies. We returned home with a rather lighter atmosphere in the car.

Lisa called me on my mobile that evening but I didn't take the call. She left a voicemail message hoping we were both OK and reassuring us that the 'first time' was always difficult. She said we should feel free to talk to either of them if we felt we needed to.

I didn't call back.

The next two weeks were difficult for Tom and me as we tried to maintain a 'normal' household for the kids while trying to adjust to the fact that we had both been so easily persuaded to be unfaithful. It didn't always work and several times either Tom lost his temper or I burst into tears for no reason the kids could either see or understand.

Needless to say, neither of us wanted sex for a while. Both of us had ended the weekend sore -- very sore in my case - and Tom couldn't bear to get intimate with me while I still bore the 'hickey' marks of my infidelity. Outside the house I wore high collars and scarves but Tom could still see them when we were at home. His own hickeys were fading much faster but once mine began to fade too, things started to return to something closer to 'normal'.

Then, just when it looked like we had put the worst of the problem behind us, I missed my period and we found out that the pills had failed and I was pregnant with what could only have been Paul's child. When I came out of the bathroom with the home test in my hand we were both stunned.

To my relief there were no rows; no shouting; only a few tears, mostly from me.

I met Lisa for coffee a few days later on 'neutral ground'. We talked awkwardly about the usual stuff but we both knew that we had to talk over that night and I eventually found the courage to begin.

What Lisa said surprised me. It seems she and Paul have been low-level swingers for some years and thought Tom and I had been sending out signs we were interested during the week. I could almost see what she meant -- certainly I had been much more flirty than normal and had certainly watched Paul more than perhaps I should -- but there had never been any intention on my part at least.

It seems that leaving hickeys to 'mark' your conquests is part of the swinging game, and helps keep the memory of the thrill in you and your partner's minds for longer. She even hinted that she and Paul would like a repeat performance but I pretended I hadn't understood that suggestion. Lisa asked me several times if I was alright about when had happened and I tried to pass it off as an interesting experience. I didn't tell her that I was actually pregnant with Paul's baby as I sat opposite her -- some things need to remain secret.

Thank goodness neither Tom nor I even considered keeping the baby and within two weeks I had a termination. Tom held my hand throughout the whole process which helped repair the bond between us further. They also tested both of us for STDs which hadn't occurred to either of us. Fortunately there were none.

Now the physical scars have vanished and the psychological ones are fading too. We won't be quite the same again but at least we are a family still. We still see Lisa and Paul, mostly for the kids' sake, but we won't be going on holiday with them again.

In a quiet moment I do sometimes remember what was without question the best, most exciting sex of my life. But there's more to life than just sex and I think my swinging days are over.