Clyde and Margi

This is story of Margi and Clyde – a good one, I think, different and not at all what I expected it to be.

After my encounters with Andrea, angel of mine, and the second thing with Elaine, I knew that I had not finished with experimenting. Derek and I are drifting apart – or, at least, it seems that way to me. Nothing significant happened it just that there a sameness about everything but it may be because of me. Who knows?

In the spirit of adventuring, I browsed the “swingers” ads on Adam and came across their ad. A multiracial couple, both married to other people, both living on the fringe of danger. I was attracted to the ad because I had an interest in swinging, threesomes, as well as a healthy curiosity about men of other races. I know that this is a taboo in many peoples eyes but, hey, stuff that, this is new me! Anyway, when I was 18 I met an Indian guy in the Rosebank mall. He was bold enough to introduce himself to me and we had a good chat, standing in the busy mall outside CNA. He was damned good-looking but a little too smooth so it went nowhere. Anyway, I was only recently sexually active so I was not all that confident around men, regardless of colour.

Margi and Clyde are different though, and my response was received by Clyde. I was cautious in it, not giving too much away, but he was polite and friendly in his reply. Their ad said they wanted a third to join them for no strings sex, the other woman could be bi or not. This sounded interesting because they said I could watch if that is all I was interested in. This meant I could keep my options open. As our e-mails went back and forth I ensured that the venue would be a hotel – a good one, not a cheap place. We eventually agreed on the Sunnyside Hotel and they would foot the bill. I tried to find out their ages and I was a little taken aback when Clyde told me he was 39 and Margi was forty-something (his words). I thought about this for a while as they both seemed older than I wanted, particularly her. This made me pause a while and I asked Clyde for his number. Surprisingly he sent it instantly, along with Margi’s. Again, I waited a few days, unsure if I should proceed. Clyde then sent me e-mail, telling me that if I wanted to bail out, no problem and that there was no pressure.

Again I wavered. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I called him. His secretary answered – a black guy! Our new South Africa is new indeed and he told me that Clyde was away on business in Cape Town and he offered me his cell number. I took it, not sure if the cell was too personal or not. I knew it would be safe to call him as he was away, so, that night, after Chad drifted off to sleep I called.

Clyde has deep voice, sexy, and he sounded white on the phone. Educated too, sure of himself. I told him who I was and he was genuinely pleased. He spoke exactly like his e-mails – polite, friendly and considerate. He said that was coloured but that he had some Asian ancestry. I left it at that, marvelling at how complex our society actually is. I was nervous as we spoke and I felt foolish. He was in his hotel room, drinking a beer and watching some soccer match. He told me that he was a manager for an Internet company and travelled regularly between Jhb and CT, at least once a month. Margi was an old girlfriend, from years ago, and they had recently re-established contact to renew their sex life, which was apparently great.

They were both adventurous, looking for the unusual, hence the Adam thing. I told him a little about me and was surprised to find that I was tempted to lie a little, about nonsense; my age, weight etc. I didn’t though but I did tell him that I wasn’t sure. He suggested we all meet for coffee (Nino’s jumped into my mind but that is my special place with Andrea) and I agreed to meet them in Sandton, in the Sandton Square. We agreed that we could all talk then and if I wanted I could walk away with no pressure.

I agreed to meet them the following Monday, when Clyde was back in Jhb.

After we chatted I still found that I had second thoughts but I decided to forge ahead anyway. After all, what could happen over lunch, in public? Little did I know!

That Monday I took care to dress nicely, wearing one of my better outfits from Queens Park. I made sure my hair looked great and I applied my make-up carefully. I mean, even if it went nowhere I wanted to look my best.

Being prudent, especially after the fiasco with Elaine, I got there early, a quarter to one. I told Clyde that I would wear a pair of white sunglasses in my hair, like an Alice band, so that he could recognise me. He said he would be wearing a blue lounge shirt with a red tie. So, being careful, I made sure that the sunglasses weren’t in my hair until I saw him, or them, so that I could suss them out and make some sort of assessment before exposing myself.

Sure enough, they got there a few minutes before one. He was indeed wearing the clothes as agreed (this gave me some comfort – no smart-arse tricks from their side). I was surprised – Margi didn’t look forty-something but fifty-something! He looked about 39 or 40. I studied them for few moments, sizing them up.

Clyde wasn’t bad looking. In fact he had an appealing smile, open and wide. He wore glasses and I could see what he meant by his Asian ancestry. He wasn’t too dark but not fair – in fact like Anant Naidoo, the newsreader – do you remember him? Clyde had straight black hair, fine and neatly cut in old-fashioned style, like a square cut almost. He wore a moustache. He wasn’t weighty but he seemed well built without being muscular. His clothes fitted him well and were expensive looking. He wore some jewellery; a gold bracelet, rings and a watch. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms, his jacket slung over the back of the chair. He sat expansively in the chair, legs wide, arms making big gestures as he talked to Margi, smiling all the time. He looked about 5’10” or so, not tall. He seemed confident, sure of himself.

Margi seemed old and my heart sagged. She smiled a lot too, smoking, leaning forward to listen to Clyde. She was well dressed, wearing a nice lemon summer dress with white sandals. Her hair was tied up neatly. She, too, wore jewellery, lots of it, bangles, chains and rings. Obviously had some money. She had a nice open face, blue eyes and she was blond. I would guess her weight to be about 65 kgs or so and her height to 5’ 7”.

I watched them for about 5 minutes and they looked around, obviously looking for me. The moment had come to decide – I took a breath and was about to stand up when a waiter approached them. I waited. He ordered for both of them, without consulting her, clearly showing that they knew each other well. When the waiter left I rose and went to meet them, glasses now firmly in hair.

As I neared the table Clyde saw me and smiled broadly, openly. He rose and stuck his hand out. Margi looked at me appraisingly.

“Aimee – glad you decided to come!” I took his hand; it was dry, warm and firm. It felt strange meeting a man I knew who wanted to fuck me, shaking his hand so formally. “This is Margi, my good friend,” he said, gesturing towards her.

She smiled sweetly and simply said “Hello” and nodded. I felt flustered, smoothing my skirt as I sat. Clyde then sat down.

“We’ve just ordered drinks – what can I get for you?”

I cleared my throat, feeling trapped. Had they ordered alcohol or not? What the hell, I needed something to still my hammering heart. “I’ll have a Bacardi Breezer, the pineapple one, if they have it. Thanks…”

“No problem!” Clyde said, and started signalling for the waiter. “So!” he said, “Do you work far from here?”

“Actually no – I’m in Randburg so its no big thing. And you?” I started to settle now, neutral territory and all that.

“Auckland Park. A bit of a trek but, you know, its central for all of us.”

“I’m in Midrand – so it’s not far for me either.” Margi had strong Afrikaans accent. The waiter came over, a beer for Clyde and a glass of white wine for Margi. Clyde ordered for me.

“So how did you two meet?” I asked, deciding to let them do all the talking. I would use the time to gather my thoughts, evaluate this whole thing, this surreal and strange seduction thing.

They both laughed. “Do you want to tell her or shall I?” This was Margi, blowing cigarette smoke upwards.

Clyde took out a pack, offered me one and we lit up.

“Let me tell the story,” he said, “It’s so funny!” I began to feel comfortable with these two, this strange couple. Closer examination made think that Clyde was perhaps closer to 42 and Margi about 55. Strange world we live in, strange indeed. Margi was a real Afrikaner, the real thing. Blond and blue-eyed and she was with Clyde. These weren’t new South Africans; these were from the old one, the apartheid one.

“I was sort of dating a friend of Margi’s,” he began, “Linda is her name. This was a long time ago – about 15 years ago. Dating is the wrong word, I think; it was more of a sex thing. Anyway, to make a long story short, Linda called me one day and asked if I was interested in group sex.” He blew a plume a smoke into the air, shaking his head. “I couldn’t believe it. I mean, Linda was always open-minded and all that, but, an orgy? No way, I thought, fantasies don’t come true this easily! Anyway I agreed, what else? She said that a friend – turned out to be Margi here – that had a boyfriend that wanted to do her and her friend – Margi – agreed if Linda would bring someone along for her.” They both laughed again, obviously enjoying the memory.

“Linda and I got to Margi’s place about 8 or so that night and I already had a few beers. Margi opened the door and I thought, hey man, this seems to be the real thing. I was introduced to Kim – he’s English – and we had a few drinks. Kim had a heavy hand and I don’t really drink hard tack so after a couple I was feeling quite sloshed. Kim had an issue with Pakistanis – he thought I looked like one - and he went on about them for a while. Anyway, he called Linda to balcony and that left Margi and I alone. Margi went to the ladies and came out stark naked!” She blushed at this, but laughed as well. “ Where do you want to fuck, she asked, here or in the bedroom?”

“No,” she said, “I had my underwear on. Didn’t I?”

“No, you were starkers!’ Clyde replied, “Anyway, I gathered my stuff – smokes, ashtray, drink – and said we should use the room.” He leaned back, a far-way look in his eyes. “It was a night to remember. Details some other time if you like but that was a night that should live in song and legend. Really.”

“It was wonderful,’ Margi replied, “We had a better time than the other two and Kim was so jealous – I made a lot of noise, so much! - He proposed to me the next morning, Valentine’s Day! We’re still married today.”

Stranger and stranger. But I was warming to them, this odd couple; I was beginning to like them because they seemed so natural with each other. Glancing around, I wondered if anybody was watching but nobody appeared to be taking the slightest interest.

“So does Kim approve of you and Clyde now?” I asked, sure that he didn’t. I mean, what about the issues over the Pakistani thing?

“Oh no,” Margi said, “He’ll die if he knew. He is so jealous over Clyde, he never really got over that night – his part was a disaster because he didn’t get it up! So we meet on the quiet, you know, and we do our thing.”

Clyde sipped his beer, puffed his cigarette and stubbed it out. “Tell us a bit about yourself, Aimee, are you married?” I had seen him look at my wedding finger – no ring. So I knew he was trying control the conversation, steer it.

But I knew that my time would come so I was prepared.

“No, not anymore. I got divorced more than a year ago. I am seeing someone now – his name is Derek – but you could say I’m on my own.” I was trying to imply that I on my own as far the adventure was concerned. It did not escape Clyde.

“Pretty brave of you, you know, to come here - this world is full of nutcases. You were wise to be cautious, very wise. How did you stumble across the Adam site?” Clyde was very skilful, very clever. He managed to direct to the conversation the nub of the matter, the point of this meeting. He did it so effortlessly. I made a mental note to watch him carefully.

“By accident really; I overheard my colleagues laughing one day, gathered around an office PC. When I joined them I saw that they had the Adam site up and were laughing at some of the entries. I made a mental note of the address and, well, you know, came across your ad?”

“Some of the people who advertise on the site are idiots so I don’t blame your colleagues,” Clyde said and Margi nodded in agreement, “So is this your first foray into the unknown?” Clever boy, not taking my bait that it was.

“No, not really. I did meet someone else but that was a mess. But it took me months and then only after I had had an awakening of sorts, you know, something happened that made me more, well, brave and adventurous.”

“Sounds like a good memory. I’m glad you weren’t put off by your bad experience. We advertised quite a few times. Met a few screwballs. Nothing ever worked out, for one reason or another and we were beginning to give up hope. So that leads us this question: what do you want out of this?” Not so fast, buddy, not so fast, I thought to myself. I’m not revealing too much without determining the boundaries.

“Well, maybe you and Margi can tell me what you want, what you are hoping for and then I can see if it fits in with my expectations…”

“You know, to tell the truth, we don’t really have a plan,” Margi started, “We’re just looking for fun. Safe, clean fun but something different.” As if they weren’t different enough already. I mean, you know?

“Yes, that’s right,” Clyde added, “we don’t have a fixed agenda. Look, here’s the deal: we are seeing each other on the sly. We both have good marriages but need something a little extra. We have no expectations of each other, meet when we can, when its safe, and we have no-holds barred sex. That’s the truth.” He looked at her. She smiled. “When we decided to include someone else we tried the site and this is our first contact that has possibilities. There were other meetings but we escaped as soon as we can – too many weirdoes! I can speak for both us: we like you, we would like to take this forward but only at your pace and with your consent, of course, as to how you would like to participate.” He looked at me, leaving an opening to respond.

“I may as well be honest with you two,” I said to both of them, “I was not sure about the age thing – sorry - but now that we had a chance to chat a while I think you guys are ok, nice, presentable solid people. Your marriages are your business, not mine. I don’t want to know anything about them. What are the rules you have in mind? Or do you want to hear mine first”. Clyde was smiling, a small smile, because somewhere in my answer he heard the word ‘yes’. I knew I had to be careful with him.

“No, you go for it – tell us what you have in mind.” He was staring intently at me now; we had reached the heart of the matter.

“Well, first things first: no pain. No bondage, no S&M stuff, no matter how light. I’m not into that.” They nodded. “Also, I don’t know if I want to participate straight off, you know, into a threesome. I’m not sure if I want to go that far. So I’d like to maybe start by watching you, seeing you go for it. Either I like it and stay or I hate it and I leave.” I waited. Margi was watching me intently, Clyde let out a breath. She looked at him. He looked back at her and nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “sounds reasonable. In fact, I would do the same and that makes me comfortable that you want to take that approach. Are you bi or straight?” That’s my boy, Clyde, never missing a trick! “Well, this may sound strange but I’m not sure – I’m experimenting myself. Look, after watching you two, depending on how I feel, I may want to be with you only or with Margi only. Or maybe both of you at the same time. Even so, I want to be able to say how I want to play. Is that okay?” I felt surer now, my rules would protect me. I don’t know why, its irrational I know, but Clyde’s disposition and Margi being an Afrikaner made me feel I could trust them to respect my rules.

“For me too, that’s good,” Margi joined in, “ because I may also not want to be involved with you – this way we all have options.” She looked at Clyde. He leaned forward to light her cigarette, then mine and finally his own. He leaned back, looking like a winner, exhaling smoke.

“Sounds cool to me.” He fell silent, his eyes on me. He had small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. I thought his next question would be “when?” It wasn’t, catching me completely by surprise.

“So would you like to start your watching now, this minute? How serious are you?”

“Now?” I said, completely baffled. Margi looked surprised too, dragging on her cigarette. She didn’t say anything though and that told me she trusted him.

“Yes,” he said, his deep voice even lower, “right now. My car is parked in the basement – we’ll get into the back seat, Margi will give me a blowjob and you can watch from the front seat. Like I said, how serious are you?”

Checkmate. Game Over. Howzat Mr. Umpire? I felt trapped, caught by Clyde, out-manoeuvred. He was smarter than I thought. My mind raced as I searched for possibilities of danger. I could see none. South Africa being a haven for criminals, I considered the possibility that they were trying to kidnap me. These two? It seemed silly. I took a deep breath. OK, wise guy lets call your bluff.

“Sure,” I said, my voice steady, even, “Lets go for it. One condition: I get to keep the car keys.”

He smiled. “Done deal.” He called the waiter over and settled with his Gold Card. Margi looked a little flustered but managed to keep her composure. We chit chatted as we made our way to the lifts, looking for all the world like work mates. When we reached the basement I noted that it was well lit, it looked safer than I thought it would be. A bit daring though but I found the prospect exciting. Clyde strode ahead of us with confidence, reached his car – Audi A4, white, I memorised the registration – and disarmed the alarm with his remote.

“Aimee, here are the keys – please don’t kidnap us!” They both laughed and I felt a bit foolish. They got into the back and I into the front, I the driver’s seat.

“Do me favour – please turn the music on. Yes, push there.” He said. Settling in. Jazz filled the car, I don’t know the artist or group was but it was nice. I half-turned to face them. Margi was on his left, lighting up.

“Fourplay.” He said. “That’s Fourplay playing Max-O-Man. Do you like music?”

“Oh yes – soul, old stuff: The Delfonics, The Stylistics, The O’Jays – that stuff.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised. Yeah man, really – this white chick is into that stuff.

I nodded. “Really.”

“I like pop – I listen to Radio Highveld, Jeremy Mansfield.” Margi drew on her cigarette, maybe bracing herself for what lay ahead. “Kim and I occasionally go to a sokkie to dance.” She was filling space but maybe that’s harsh.

“Can you see clearly behind us Aimee?” Clyde was unzipping himself. I nodded. Margi quickly stubbed out her cigarette. What about tissues I thought? But hey, I was only watching. I must say that I was already feeling sexually aroused. I mean these were two strangers, I only met them 45 minutes ago and I was now going to watch her suck him off. I mean!

As she reached into his pants I lit up, lowered the window a little and prepared to enjoy myself.

She pulled his dick out. It was a real dick – big and thick. He wasn’t fully hard but it looked huge. It was brown and nicely veined. He was circumcised. He was watching me intently, his one hand caressing Margi’s butt through her dress. She had leaned over sideways, facing me almost and she kneaded his cock and sucked the head. It swelled and grew. Wow, it looked a full 9 or ten inches, long and thick. My throat went dry, my lips parted. A car started up somewhere, growled and I heard that high-pitched tire squealing sound cars make in basements. He looked me enquiringly. I shook my head, “All clear.’ I said.