Going Dutch

It is impossible to describe the sheer beauty, the bliss, the heavenly exultation, the perfect fulfilment, the joyful, loving rapture, with which we then made love. Throughout our relationship, the connection had always been so strong, yet somehow it became so intensified it was as if we were one person, moving together, celebrating our joined bodies, luxuriating in our love for each other, and our commitment to one another.

Pieter may have fucked my wife, but this was sacred, sanctified, loving intercourse in a sexual playground where all around us sex was being used purely as indulgence, or gratification and for pleasure. We were an island of blissful unity.

To describe our love-making then would be to debase it. I can only say it was sheer perfection, and when we came, we came together, in a tumultuous climax that wracked both our bodies, and blew my mind.

When it was over, and we had recovered our sense of place, or those around us, of the need to rise from the play bed, and be part of the club life once again, there was no sign of Jess or Pieter. We exchanged sweet nothings, or perhaps sweet everythings, for love is truly everything. We disengaged.

We found Jess downstairs, dancing. Pieter had already left, she said. One one of the low glass tables by the bench seating at the wall, there was an ice pitcher with a bottle, and three glasses round it. Jess explained that before he left, Pieter had bought us the champagne, and asked her to pass on his eternal appreciation to us both.

That was Jess's last night with us. The following afternoon Gloria and I were driving back from Montpellier airport, after kisses, hugs, and "Thank you"s, as we saw Jess through the departure gate for her flight to London. We still had another three weeks of holiday to enjoy. The autoroute was not so busy, and so I put the car on cruise control and let it do the driving.

"That was some night, last night," I said, turning to glance at Gloria. She returned my look, a shy smile on her face.

"Yes," she agreed "It was, wasn't it!"

I was looking at the road again. Even on cruise control, you have to take care. I gave it a few moments before continuing.

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" I asked.

My wife did not need a few moments before she answered.

"Baby," she said, "you know I did. It felt good just to let go, and since the guy had already come in me, it was like a bridge had been crossed, so why not just let things happen. But I loved the way we got together afterwards. That was incredible."

But before I could say anything more, Gloria added, "Did you enjoy fucking Jess?"

I put my hand on her leg to reassure her that she was the woman who mattered to me. There was no need to take my eyes off the road. I knew exactly where to find her leg, including the fact that her pink, cut off shorts allowed my palm to rest on the dark, warm, flesh of her thigh.

The truth was that I had really enjoyed fucking Jess. She is a sexy woman in her own way, her cunt had felt good, and fucking someone other than my wife after six exclusive years, had given it an extra edge. Some kind of instinct told me that I could, and should, share all of that with Gloria, so I took the risk.

"It was different from making love with you, but yes, I enjoyed it," I said. "But with us, we're definitely making love. With Jess it was more like forbidden fucking, like crossing a line, even if it was you who had set it up. Didn't you feel that with Peiter?"

"You mean, doing something I shouldn't?" Gloria asked.

She moved her own hand to rest on mine, reciprocating the gesture of reassurance.

"How many women do you know who would let a total stranger fuck them in a club?" I asked her, to underline the taboo that she, or we, had broken.

"Okay," she said. "Yes. I liked feeling that I was doing something that I shouldn't. Is it okay to admit that?"

"As long as we are being open with each other," I said. "Besides, you did look pretty good. The whole club must have heard you when you were coming."

"Only pretty good?" my wife asked.

I risk another glance to the side. My wife's head was turned to look at me, an impish smile waiting to greet my eyes.

"Okay," I admitted. "You looked amazing. Way better than any porn I've ever watched."

"So maybe I have an alternative career, if I ever need one," Gloria joked.

The thought was amusing. In her finance company office back in London, Gloria was seen as straight laced, serious, and work oriented, not the kind of image that goes with making porn. But the fact that we could both laugh about what had taken place seemed to me a good sign.

"Do you still love me?" Gloria asked, bringing us back to more serious talk.

"You know I do, babe," I said. "Maybe more than ever."

"I feel the same," my wife said. "I mean about you. Not many men would have done what I asked you to with Jess. Or held back from reacting the way you did when Pieter fucked me the first time around. Or let me enjoy having him fuck me a second time."

"I guess some guys would," I said. "Like he told us, another couple brought him back to their apartment so the guy could watch while he fucked the wife."

"Some guys aren't you," my wife said. "I'm a lucky woman."

"Although," I interjected, "I did want to check out one thought with you."

"Okay,...?" Gloria said.

"So when you suggested I should fuck Jess so that she would not be left out, did you also plan that if you got the chance, you might fuck someone else as well?"

"The truth?" Gloria asked.

"The truth," I confirmed.

"I thought it might happen. Especially if we ended up going to a club with her," she told me. "We've been coming here for six years now. I thought maybe it was time we found out what would happen if we went all the way. And before we did, I needed to know how I'd feel about seeing you with another woman."

Ask for the truth from an honest woman, and you get the truth.

"And how did you feel?"

"Jealous,... at first," Gloria said. "Nervous,... in case you liked her too much. Then fascinated,... watching,... turned on,... and afterwards, when nothing had changed between us, it felt kind of good. How was it for you, watching me with Pieter?"

"I was pretty shocked," I said. "Stunned, to be honest, especially knowing the guy had come in you practically before I realised anything was going on."

"And then?" Gloria asked.

"I guess like you, fascinated," I said. "And impressed. With you, I mean. You did look incredible. I kind of loved that you could let go like that."

"No regrets then?" my wife asked me.

"No regrets," I said. "And you?"

"No," Gloria said. "None,... although,..."

"Although?" I asked, wondering what she would say as I asked.

She hesitated for a moment, then started to say something I had not expected.

"Do you remember that couple we met last year?" Gloria said. "When we were dancing at the club? I think that they were Swedish. The woman was blonde, white corset, the guy in blue trousers and a white shirt."

I remembered them. We had rarely got talking with other couples in the clubs, we had with the couple Gloria was reminding me of. Gloria had been enjoying dancing, and I had been doing my best to look okay dancing with her, when the guy moved in to join us.

At first I had assumed he was one of the single guys, cruising for a likely couple. He was clean cut, polite, with a relaxed, friendly approach, obviously interested in Gloria, but giving me a respectful smile before getting too close, or play touching her.

His wife had joined us a few minutes later. Like Gloria had just said, she had been worn a corset, white faux leather, with steel studs and fasteners. Her breasts had been bare, coin sized areoles and thick nipple stubs. The corset had suspender straps, holding up white, diamond mesh stockings, the white framing a depilated mons with nicely protruding labia, not as full as Gloria's but enticing just the same.

The guy had told us their names in a kind of dance floor introduction. Hendrick and Brigitte, I remembered. I had told them ours, and as we danced in a foursome, we had exchanged the kind of get to know you information about where we were from, where we were staying, how many years we had been coming, and so on.

"I remember," I confirmed to Gloria.

I also remembered Brigitte at one point getting close enough to me to whisper so that Gloria would not hear, that her husband normally was only interested in her, but he had seen my wife and had told her this was one woman he would love to fuck. Since we did not swing with other couples, I had gently moved the chat in a different direction. She had understood, but they stayed friendly for another ten or fifteen minutes or so of dancing. Why Gloria was mentioning them was unclear, but I was about to find out.

"I saw them in the supermarket yesterday," Gloria said. "They said to say, 'Hi'."

One other thing I remembered. We had gone upstairs after breaking off from them, Gloria blurting out where we were going, always uneasy about letting people down. We had made out in the couples room, and while Gloria had been sucking on my cock, Hendrick had walked past us. Later I realised he might have taken Gloria's saying we were going upstairs as an invitation. But nothing happened, and two days later we had left for London, without bumping into them again.

"Okay," I said.

"I just thought," Gloria said hesitantly, "after what happened last night, maybe if we were to see them in the club,..."

Inside, I smiled. In a marriage you learn not to be too enthusiastic about things happening the way that you would like them to. It could be fun, watching my wife getting fucked in the club a second time, and Brigitte had been the kind of blonde that I would love to fuck.

I gave Gloria a look, and momentarily our eyes met in mutual understanding. I turned my visual attention back to the autoroute, my mind still holding the image of Nordic ice-blonde, golden tan, slender legs parted, my cock sliding into wet and welcoming Swedish cunt.

"Maybe," I said, as my wife reached across the central console of the car to between my legs, resting her perfectly manicured, dark mahogany hand, against the light cotton of my own, beige, summer shorts, and felt the iron hardness standing proud.