Full Circle

It felt like it had been a really long time. Our nearly full grown kids had to move back into the house during the pandemic and what had once been a comfortably sized house in the suburbs was suddenly bulging at the seams. Don't get me wrong, I always loved having them around but they had incredible, almost superhuman hearing. In the tight confines of our house, whenever my wife and I tried to have some fun we had to be completely, utterly silent. Any gasp or moan or heaven forbid, dirty talk, was assumed to be within listening range for everyone. Creepy.

And it had its effect on us. We're both getting older... just getting aroused enough to go at it was now compounded by the fact that we were forced to be so fucking quiet. I thought we were being clever when we tried playing music to try covering things up. That lasted until I overheard one daughter, rolling her eyes and complaining to the other, "...mom and dad were blasting Adele again last night!"

Over time, we just stopped trying. When February and Valentine's day rolled around I thought I'd be silly and suggested that we just check into a cheap motel to have some fun. Surprisingly, my wife jumped at the idea. Something about hotel sex and being in a novel environment always seemed to turn up the heat for both of us. It would be a relief to not have to feel like we were living in a convent.

When the day finally rolled around we treated ourselves to a nice, romantic dinner. For once my wife wasn't complaining about her job or the dog or politics and after polishing off a bottle of wine, we were starting to feel like we were getting back into this vaguely familiar zone. Time and space to be silly and lewd and for a few hours at least, stop being the stuffy, uptight assholes that we'd let ourselves become for the last 25 years.

We hit a snag when we went to check in at the hotel. After fiddling with the computer for a few minutes the clerk explained that the hotel was booked for a convention and that our room wasn't available yet. She pointed us to the bar and offered to comp us for some drinks while we were waiting for our room to open up. OK, not a problem. We did have all night. And we were both in pretty good moods. I wasn't about to blow it over some minor inconvenience.

Here's a pearl of wisdom that comes with age. When you live with someone long enough your image of them gets condensed into this sort of visual shorthand. You already know what they look like and your brain doesn't really notice the details each time they walk into a room. Lisa had left for the bar while I'd stayed behind at the desk to finish checking in. When I finally walked into the lounge she was perched on a bar stool, one leg crossed over the other. Her black dress stretched and barely covering her thighs. The string of they pearls I'd gotten her for our anniversary draped around her neck. For once, her hair wasn't perfect. Dinner and drinking and shuffling through the parking lot had left it just a bit of a mess, some wisps of hair dropping down around her neck. Was that really my wife? It was like I was seeing her for the first time after years apart. She was pushing 60 but still had this ability to turn heads whenever she stepped into a room. I noticed that she was talking to some guy or maybe more accurately, he was talking to her. Even from clear across the room I could tell his cock was getting hard and his brain was busy calculating the best way to get her naked and bent over a bed. I felt like a voyeur.

She finally glanced up to noticed me. "Oh hi, this is Tony..." she said. "He's here for the electronics convention."

Tony seemed friendly enough. Probably in his mid 30's, about my height, maybe just a bit pudgy from too much time in front of a computer screen. Nice approachable face with a full head of hair. He got up to shake my hand and introduce himself. I'd worked in IT years before and he seemed relieved to have someone that had a clue about what he was there for. Lisa had no idea about the technical things we were talking about, I'm pretty sure she didn't care but she did seem to be having some fun as the buffer between the two of us. I checked the screen on my iPhone and noticed that our room seemed to be taking an awfully long time to become available. A few drinks in and Lisa excused herself to use the ladies room.

"You're a lucky guy... she's really gorgeous. How long have you been together?"

I'd actually lost track. How many years had it been? It was easier to just explain, "I think since the night Nixon resigned... what was that? August '74?" Ancient history.

"You must be pretty special yourself to be able to keep her happy for that long."

Well that was unexpected.

Before I could react he said, "I hope you don't think this is nuts but I'm just in town for the weekend. If you guys are up for some fun tonight, I'd be honored... honored for the privilege."

Was he serious? I figured he was drunk and that was the booze talking. On the other hand, I'm bi and for most of our married life, utterly monogamous. It had been a really long time since my wife and I had anything close to all the good, clean, dirty fun we used to have back in our early years. My cock gave me an involuntary nudge at his suggestion. I took a good look at him. He didn't seem like an ax murderer. Actually not bad looking at all.

One of the big differences between bi and gay men is that gay men actually know how to flirt. How to read signals. Identify likely partners. Most bisexuals just tend to define themselves in terms of what kinds of things and genders they're open to. For most of us, that whole layer of social navigation tends to be missing. I'm generalizing of course. It would probably be more accurate to say that it was missing from me. After years of practice, I was pretty good at flirting with women but all the experiences I'd had with men were always in the context of threesomes or couple swaps. If the idea of sex with guys seemed hot, I still had no idea of who or what or how to make it happen. So I had to appreciate that he was being so forward. Maybe it was the level of alcohol in my own bloodstream but I thought I should at least consider his offer.

I flashed back to the last time we'd had any real fun. What life was like when we'd just moved in to the neighborhood, before we were parents and back when we still took a considerable amount of pride in being adventurous and unconventional. We were the new kids on the block surrounded by families that were a generation or two older than us. One weekend we invited some neighbors over for drinks and a BBQ as a chance to get acquainted. This was in the middle of August and before we had our AC working so we moved the tables out to the back yard and parked under the shade of an old oak tree. Lisa started the day in a modest house dress that could have been a page from Good Housekeeping but stripped down to a bikini top and cut off jeans as the temperature rose and the work of schlepping stuff back and forth started to take its toll. OK, maybe that outfit was just a bit bare. Not completely scandalous but enough to raise the eyebrows of the other wives and if I had to guess, breathe some life into the tired old middle-aged cocks that surrounded her.

At one point, she walked onto the patio carrying a tray of drinks and bent over to set them on the table putting her cheeky ass on full display. It cracked me up to see how all the guys were checking her out but it was Bill that I made eye contact with as I caught him shamelessly staring at her butt. As soon as he made eye contact with me, he knew he was busted. His face flushed, embarrassed at having been caught red handed. Honestly though, who could blame him? Lisa had a world class ass. To be fair, I would have done the same. I gave him a wink to let him know it was OK at the same moment his that his wife Leslie, feeling a bit less charitable, jammed an elbow into his ribs.

That night, after everyone was gone, I finally got her to shimmy out of those shorts and asked if she realized what kind of effect she was having on the guys. She played it innocent, fluttered her eyelashes for dramatic effect. "Who... sweet little old me?" but I could tell from her smile that there was a game she was playing here.

"That outfit you had on really got all the guys hot and bothered. I'm pretty sure by the end of the night they all wanted to nail you."

My cock got hard and stomach started to twist into knots at the same moment I said that.

She really wasn't hiding that smirk very well. "And would that bother you? All those guys fucking your wife? What would you do?"

We'd had our share of threesomes. I'd jerked off to the fantasy of her in a gangbang but that scene was tagged for private viewing only and had stayed hidden in this dark, masturbatory recess of my brain, never to be let out to see the light of day. If Lisa was playing a game, I decided to play along. "I don't know. It sounds kinda hot but you know how much I hate waiting in line."

Now she was trying hard not to laugh. "Well we'd have to keep you busy then. Would you eat my pussy to get me wet for everyone?"

I loved going down on her. "You know I could never say no to that..."

"And would you suck their cocks? Make them hard and wet and ready to fuck your wife?"

I realized that at some point in the last minute my brain had checked out. I pulled her panties aside and shoved my cock into her. Usually we'd start out slow and steady but I was already fucking her like a truck stop whore, each stroke hard and deep enough to make her grunt.

"Oooh you'd like that, wouldn't you? Suck all their cocks and let them have turns with me? Then be a good husband and lick all that sticky cum off of me?"

She knew I was bi, that bit of same sex action wasn't shocking but I'd never heard her talk like this before. Without realizing it, she'd stumbled into this weird overlap between what got her wet and me hard. I always had this notion that sex was hottest when it pushed your boundaries and nudged you just past your limits. This was way, way over the top but the fact that it all came from her, my sweet innocent wife seemed to bless it with the good fucking seal of approval.

Bill was over the next weekend. We had a pile of logs stacked and waiting to be split into firewood. We spent an afternoon sweating under a hot sun as the two of us reduced a yard full of scrap wood into kindling. I was younger and stronger but Bill definitely had the edge when it came to technique. He just needed to raise the ax slightly over his head and guide it down in a smooth arc to effortlessly split the logs as if they were made of cardboard. I made up in brute strength what I lacked in skill. My job had me spending a lot of time sitting on my ass sitting in front of a PC. It was a relief to do something that made you feel the burn in your muscles and relish the sense of accomplishment as you actually got something tangible done.

We were almost through for the day when Lisa, back in her signature bikini top and cut offs, brought out a couple of cold drinks. Bill had this stupid smile on his face. He took a deep swig of a beer as he watched her disappear back into the house.

"I'm sure you know this already but your wife is fucking gorgeous. Just looking at her reminds me of when I was your age and everything still worked..."

He paused for a few seconds. "Hey... do you know what a key party is?"

Honestly, I had no idea.

"Back when we first moved out here, most of the guys all had long commutes into the city and not a lot of time to waste. There were schedules for everything, even sex. There was this one couple that had a reputation as swingers. One weekend they had a bunch of us over and asked us to drop our car keys in a bowl. At the end of the night, after a ton of cocktails and flirting, the women would go pick a key from the bowl and go home with whoever they matched up with. In the beginning, it was just the ones that were really drunk or horny who were brave enough to give it a shot. Over time though, it got to be this thing where it was one more marker for keeping up with the Joneses. Life here can be soul crushing. This was fun for a change."

I'd heard rumors about stuff like this but just assumed it was an urban legend.

"Hey, don't knock it. Most of us are still pretty good friends and the fact that everyone was fucking everyone sort of brought us closer. Your generation wasn't the first to think they invented sex."

I ran through this mental inventory of all the ladies on the block. Most were in decent shape. To my eternally stiff cock even the dowdy, frumpy ones seemed kind of hot. I had some random thoughts about Mrs. Breitstein, our neighbor next door. Just over 5'. Maybe 160 pounds. Wore precisely the same hair style ever since she graduated high school. In all the photos of her that lined the walls of her house, you could trace her progression from school, to work, to mom, to neighborhood grand dame. Her body swelling and contracting with each stage of her life but her hair, always geometrically, precisely the same. The idea of her (and her iconic hairstyle) sweaty, naked and getting railed by 3 or 4 guys while Mr. Breitstein just sat by to jerk off and watch suddenly seemed plausible and ridiculously hot. And I'd always had a thing about older women. I wondered how I would have managed if I got paired up with any of them.

Bill reached between my legs and felt a boner.

"Hope you don't mind but I think I can read people pretty well. You OK with this?"

He was right. It had been a long time since anyone else had grabbed my cock. I felt it throb and get harder and was grateful for the attention.

The wives picked that moment to walk through the door.

Leslie saw what was going on, arched an eyebrow and said, "Well, did you ask him?"

Bill looked at Lisa and me and a few beats late, asked, "You guys up for some fun?"

Somewhere in her mid fifties, Leslie was more than twice my age. The fact that she was some combination of older and exotic more than made up for the fact that she didn't have the perfect body of a 25 year old. My own wife was smooth and pretty and young with all the curves and proportions of a Barbie doll. Leslie was Rubinesque. Think of all the chubby, naked people hanging out on couches in Italian Baroque art. She would have fit right in. All of her curves were a bit larger than you might expect them to be. Her cleavage and low cut blouses were a landmark institution to every delivery boy who ever had the privilege of helping her unpack her groceries. The idea of fucking an older woman like her, someone with curves and lines and even a few wrinkles, with a lifetime of experience and no inhibitions made me drunk and stupid.

It took a few weeks but eventually we were able to drill down to what the two of them were about. Bill and I got to be friends along the way. Guys typically tend to have a tough time making new friends past a certain age. He was part hang out buddy, part mentor, not to mention that he was the one guy who'd managed to work his way into my life beyond just the acquaintance stage. Although most of the really good debauchery involved the four of us, he was as bi as I was. That left the door open to experimentations of the sort I'd never really thought of. We'd hang out in his den... knotty pine paneled walls, a bar and requisite pool table. Have a few beers. I introduced him to marijuana which he seemed to take to pretty quickly. We'd watch some porn on his new fangled VHS machine. Any guy will tell you that jerking off, in spite of how good it feels, is ultimately a solitary experience. Having a jerk off buddy, someone who got off on the same kinds of things I did was unexpectedly awesome.

Bill had a state of the art, 21" Sony Trinitron. We'd roll it up close to the couch and after a few beers and joints, cue up a tape and sit back to check out the weeks depravity. Porn wasn't free back then. You had to buy a physical copy of a VHS tape and venture out to an adult book store to find something worth watching. I commuted into Manhattan every day... there was no shortage of places selling everything imaginable under the sun.

We started out with the popular stuff. The Devil in Miss Jones. Deep Throat. Debbie Does Dallas. Big hair. Big tits. Big cocks. Ridiculously bad acting. Awful soundtracks that always sounded like they were being played at the wrong speed.

I started experimenting with bringing home niche stuff. Group sex and gang bangs were always crowd pleasers. Lesbian orgies. Fake incest. European imports with BDSM, dom/sub and bisexual stuff. All of it was a revelation for us. Over time it almost became a way of mapping out precisely what our sexual preferences were.

A few weeks in and jerking off together was now routine. A few more times after that and it was normal to suck his cock as he jerked off to the action on screen. He was older, sometimes it could take him a long time to cum. That was fine. The taste of his cock and precum were a brand new experience for me... one that I didn't get tired of. The remote control became another sex toy in our arsenal. We got used to jerking off together, sucking each other off and simultaneously working the remote to fast forward to and repeat our favorite scenes. I liked the times when Bill would be smoking a joint, jerking off to video of some poor husband licking the cum out of his wife's pussy while I sucked his cock.

The comparisons to sex with my own wife were inescapable. With Lisa, there was always a seduction at play. We could have mind blowing sex but there was always a sequence where things built up on each other. She had to be in a relatively good mood. Not stressed before anything could get started. Overall, she was petite. She was a lovely cock sucker but with a real gag reflex I always had to be mindful of how forceful I was being. Never held that against her, it was just part of who she was.

With Bill, there was just plain sex on tap whenever I wanted it. He could be watching TV one moment and if I felt like jamming my cock in his mouth and jerking off on his face, that was fine. When it came to oral sex, he definitely preferred it hard and rough. A month in to our arrangement I realized that the standard model for blow jobs had now evolved into full on face fucking. It was hard to tell which of us loved it more.

Stress relief. That became code for a blow job. As in "You OK bud? You look like you could use some stress relief."

This was completely different from any kind of sex I'd ever had with women. Neither of us had the remotest urge to set up housekeeping, buy each other flowers, plan a life together or write epic love poems but there was something about the simple availability of sucking his cock or him sucking mine that made me realize that something basic and elemental had been missing from my life.

What can I say about Leslie? She was a tough kid even as a teenager. Over the years she'd managed to get in touch with her inner dominatrix. In her daily life she was the office manager for a medical practice. Smart, friendly, polite with just a little bit of a hyperactive edge. Once her clothes came off, she was in charge of everything and everyone. Funny how that worked, she was just the boss. No need to raise her voice... whatever she wanted, any of us seemed to be more than happy to do. I was grateful since it took all the responsibility for what happened off of me. In our other threesomes it had been annoying how we had to constantly check in with each other, ask permission for everything, and even then, be self conscious that you weren't getting so carried away that you might freak someone out. Leslie wore her freak flag as a badge of honor... she never held back from anything and was always proud to be the perviest person in the room. I was impressed that even at her age, she was excited by the possibility of finding new and interesting ways to fuck.