Marriage on the Swing and Slide

Extramarital sex still requires for most of us 'normal' people silence and deception. In an interesting shift, in our more liberated societies such 'dishonesty' is now more strongly condemned than actually fucking somebody else. While it is a paradox, it is in porn that this 'moral' imperative of being truthful about our deviant behaviour is most strongly endorsed. 'Swinging', 'Swapping', husbands watching and filming their wives being 'blackened' or fucked by friends and 'strippers' is shown to be, whilst naughty and by the majority disapproved, declared acceptable for as long as it is mutually agreed on by the participants and nobody cheats and is deceived.

The reality is, however, that truth can hurt and that truth becomes so often a means to hurt and destroy relationships. In and through sex with others too much is often revealed. I, for one, am certain that many-more relationships are destroyed by truth than are maintained by silence and even lies.

I, therefore, neither regret nor apologise for having left my wife, during the twenty years of our marriage in the dark about my extramarital experiences. Even when it was clear that we would break up and we no longer shared bed and table, I maintained silence. In my everyday behaviour I hid from her the arrangements I had to make. Neither the sexual affinity between us nor our affairs were the reason that our marriage failed. It was personality clashes that drove Birgit and me more and more apart. It made, however, the extramarital relations in which I found myself liked and wanted and appreciated understandably much more attractive than otherwise would have been the case.

Birgit chose to behave differently. While she 'cheated' she chose not to 'deceive'. As all moralists do, truth became, I believed then, her choice of weapon to inflict wounds.

Birgit was a beautiful, sensuous, sexually alive woman that did not keep her physical allure and sex-appeal under a bushel. While she was too much a conformist to be openly promiscuous, she liked men and flirtatiously responded when she sensed their desire. It amused me, for instance, that with older men she liked to combine her freely displayed physical attractions with the sweet manners of an innocent, admiring, little girl. I still believe, however, that her faithfulness, to use the conventional term, lasted as long into our marriage as did mine.

The first breach she still covered by silence. In a term-break we had gone to Sydney to visit and stay with Bruno and Janice. On the second-last day of our stay, Michael, our son, then seven years old, and I went for a day's fishing. Bruno offered to take Birgit into town for some shopping. I assumed, and Janice expected that Bruno would drop Birgit off and go to work. When, however, they came back together in the evening in high spirits, Janice was visibly upset.

And I was almost certain that Bruno had, finally, fucked Birgit in some motel and that she had been willingly complicit.

To me, while shocked and hurt, it came as no surprise. Bruno, we were friends from childhood, had always been rather unduly 'interested' in my female companions. Birgit, he had openly lusted after and surreptitiously groped for years; she had allowed him to do so. Whatever I felt, I said nothing. Janice was seething. When we left the day after for our drive home, she asked to come with us to Melbourne. She had suddenly decided to visit her mother.

We broke our return-trip in Eden, staying overnight in a motel. Janice had a room of her own; she and Birgit had hardly talked all day. Michael, a heavy sleeper, shared ours. I was tired from driving. Birgit, however, wanted to be on this night, what only can be called, TAKEN. So, she was.

It was a frenzied, drawn out, brutal fuck, accompanied by her senseless whispers and suppressed whimpers; finishing, for both of us, in a bone-shaking orgasm with her nails raking and bloodying my back. I never asked. For me, her sexual ardour the day after her 'shopping'-excursion only confirmed what I knew. Was, our orgiastic, frenzied fuck fuelled by my anger, Birgit's guilt, or our joint arousal about her having finally fucked Bruno?

During the rest of the drive home next day her cheerful and chatty mood contrasted with Janice's sullen silence. Birgit evidently thought she had answered my unasked question. She was pleased about my unspoken answer.

It was three years later. We had another child. Michael was now ten, Martin two, Birgit was back at work. It was for the mid-year term-break that Birgit decided on a ten days holiday on Fraser Island. With her claiming that she needed a break, I suspected from the outset that she did not really want to go on a family holiday with the children and me. She knew, that I would not be keen to go to a beach resort as I had no liking for sea, sand and surf and the associated crowds.

So, acting with a show of, partly justified truculence she went to Fraser Island on her own. She returned tanned, glowing, in high spirits and in an aroused, sexually adventurous mood. The holiday had done her good and things were, for a while, much better between us. In chatting about Fraser Island, she mentioned in passing that a chap, Ian, had taken her, and others of the group she was with, sailing.

In January we again went to Sydney. Thinking about what had happened three years ago I was not eager. Birgit, however, insisted and I could find no acceptable reason to object. Bruno and Janice welcomed us as before. On the day after arriving, it became clear what had drawn Birgit to Sydney. It was not Bruno.

Ian, Birgit's Fraser Island acquaintance, turned up on Bruno's and Janice's doorstep. No subterfuge was possible about how he knew that Birgit was in Sydney and where and when to find her. They obviously had been in contact since Fraser Island. They were lovers, wanted to continue their affair, and had decided to confront me with the unadorned truth. Totally taken aback, away from home with the children, as a guest at Bruno and Janice, I was in no position to take a stand, make a scene. Birgit had banked on it that vulnerable and exposed as I was, I would have to accept her affair with Ian as an established fact. Which I shamefacedly decided to do.

For the following Sunday Ian invited all of us to go sailing. Bruno and Janice declined. So, it was Ian, Sue his wife, Birgit, I and Michael. Janice had offered to look after two-year old Martin.

Ian's small boat was not moored but 'parked' on land at a yacht-club in one of Sydney's northern inlets. On helping Ian to manoeuvre it into the water, I split the sole on one of my feet.

After a short sail, we settled down on the beach for a picknick-lunch, prepared by Sue. I, tender-footed and injured, lay in the sand for all of the afternoon like a stranded whale, while Ian sported with Birgit in the water and played ball with Michael. Sue did not join in their merriment and kept me company.

When Ian drove us back to Bruno's place, I learned that Birgit had accepted their invitation for a barbecue-party; with some of their friends, they said, for tonight. Birgit immediately offered to come with them to help preparations for the party. Before leaving she almost hugged me in the presence of all, hummed and hawed, and suggested that I patch-up my insured foot and follow later.

I did not. Janice took one look at my foot and decided that Bruno must take me to the North Shore Hospital. And indeed, the gash needed to be disinfected and required stitches. We returned home from the hospital's Emergency Department at two in the morning. Birgit had not returned. Neither had she rung.

Ian brought her back in the morning. Everybody had had too much to drink to drive Birgit home so she stayed overnight. It was plausible, not to be argued with.

Ian was a pleasant enough guy. He was in about his early forties, of medium height, beginning to get chubby, with thinning hair. He was tanned and probably fit. Sue, during our afternoon of sitting together told me that Ian owned a sheet-metal plant that pre-fabricated casings and ducts. At this stage I had not seen their house, but car and boat and everything Sue said suggested that they were moderately wealthy.

Sue was nice; unaffected, well spoken, with easy, relaxed manners and a good sense of humour. She said she was a working girl; had at nineteen joined Ansett Airlines as a stewardess, had flown all over Australia for twelve years, until "Reggie", Reginald Ansett, the airline's owner, "decided to get rid of the old boilers".

She had met Ian on one of her flights. When she lost her job, Ian took pity on her and they married. Sue was quite attractive, taller than Ian, slim, small-breasted and long legged with a nicely shaped bottom. But, unlike Birgit in her bikini, she appeared ill at ease in her one-piece bathers. She seemed to enjoy talking with me more than joining the frolicking display of Birgit and Ian. Sue and I, as if we agreed on it, did not mention Birgit. She as well as I knew what was going on. So, what role did Sue have in this play staged by our partners? Mine, I knew. I had been, I was certain, been cast the fool!

Midweek, Ian turned up one evening and collected Birgit for an outing, again returning her in the morning. Janice and Bruno were intrigued but I explained nothing. For me Bruno, after last time, was no longer a friend to confide in, especially when it concerned Birgit's faithfulness.

Next day, on an outing with the children to Sydney's zoo, I tried to talk to Birgit. Her face stonily set, she refused to talk about 'it' or offer any excuses. What I took to be her brazen unconcern stopped me, perhaps cowardly, from asking her how she felt about me and how she expected me to react.

On Saturday, Ian and Sue invited us for dinner. I would have, I believe, refused, but Sue had rung me separately to ask me to come. Any pretence was dispensed with. Bruno and Janice were not invited and it was clear that they did not expect Birgit to bring her children. We accepted; Birgit, I was certain, with fore-knowledge of what was planned and I, with a mixture of anger and curiosity.

It was one of Sydney's sticky-warm January nights. All of us were lightly dressed. To avoid the pestering gnats, Ian decided that we should stay inside. Immediately on arriving, he and Birgit paired off. Sue attached herself closely to me as if it was agreed-on in advance. I suppose it was meant as a surprise for me.

Sue had prepared a light cold meal of oysters, prawns and salads. To fit the intimacy of the situation she had dished it up on a round table in their spacious kitchen and not in the dinning-room. On standing around with our pre-dinner drinks, close to our assigned partners, I noticed how Birgit had slipped into her seductive-submissive little-girl-mode. She listened to everything Ian said with wide-eyed attention, giggled in response to his wit, reached-out with her hand to give him an appreciative pat and, inadvertently, of course, in leaning-in pressed her boobs against his arm.

Sue and I just talked. There was an amused smile playing over her lips. It was clearly caused by what she side-ways glimpsed and also, perhaps, by my awkward discomfort and not by my rather laboured conversation. Being uncertain about what would happen next, I concentrated on my drink, watched, and was careful in what I said.

When we sat down to eat Ian and Birgit demonstratively pulled their chairs close together. As he leant over to whisper something in her ear he quite openly put a hand on her naked thigh. Birgit had dressed appropriately for a hot Sydney night in a mini summer-dress, no stockings and, I was sure, no bra. Sue, as hostess, sat down last; also, much closer to me than our round-table arrangement would have forced on her. When our thighs touched, I did not draw away.

We enjoyed our meal and, with the second bottle of Sparkling our exchange of stories became quite lively. Ian talked mainly about sailing and holiday adventures, Birgit about her time in the embassies in London, and I about my experiences as a bell-boy working in an international hotel. All our stories were tinged with suggestive details, not of what we had experienced ourselves, but of what we had witnessed and observed.

It was Sue, however, that really charged the atmosphere to a much higher erotic level. She told us, with no saucy detail spared, about her years as an air-line stewardess. She obviously relished talking about her past, an itinerant life, then so unusual for girls, away from the control of parents, relatives and neighbours.

With great animation Sue told us about the wild parties at hotels at crew-change, sleep-over places in all parts of Australia, about sexual peccadilloes among staff, adventures and romances with passengers, the competition which was the "flightiest crew" at Ansett and which of the girls' had finally made it into the "mile-high-club". Sue and her tale became, as it progressed, infectiously sexier; I began to respond to the laughter in her voice, her delight in being racy, and the slinky rubbing of her thigh.

We had finished our meal. Sue grabbed our four emptied glasses, Ian a fresh bottle of Sparkling from the fridge and we adjourned to the living room. In walking out behind them, I observed how Ian's arm around Birgit's midriff rucked-up her mini-dress. It revealed a flash of red, lacy panties I had never seen her wear before. In the living-room, Ian and Sue swiftly re-arranged the setting by moving the coffee-table's narrow end against their four-seater couch before placing glasses and drink on it. Then Ian, on one side, sat down on the floor drawing an unsurprised Birgit down with him. Her dress slipped-up to her navel. Sue looking at me and with a sly grin said: - "Well, let's join them."

She slid down on our evidently agreed-on side of the table. Leaning against the couch she stretched her long legs. She ignored that her loose shift had opened and gone askew as she smiled up at me and patted the floor. I sat down feeling foolish. I was so obviously the new boy. I needed to be helped into a setting familiar to the other three.

With drinks poured, we toasted, drank and somewhat fitfully renewed the banter from before. Soon, however, the talk across the barrier of the table ceased. Ian and Birgit were becoming more exclusively engaged with each other. They did not try to hide it.

Sue and I lounged close, but not too close to each other on the floor sipping our drinks, exchanging a few words, smiling at each other. She had placed one hand over mine which rested on the floor close to her leg, now uncovered up to her thigh. I had not touched her; I was in a state of semi-shock and left it to her to bring me into play if she, or they, as I suspected, had so planned. Eventually, Sue turned her empty champagne-glass upside-down. She grabbed my hand to pull me up with her and said: -

"Come on, Mark. Let's see what else we can find. The night is young. Too young to run on empty."

We went back into the kitchen which with a wide, door-less opening adjoined the living room. Sue did not switch on the light. I leant against the sink while she selected a fresh bottle from the fridge and placed it on the table. Then she stepped up to me, put her arms round me and drew me into a long, unrestrained kiss. Her legs parted enough to half-enclose one of my thighs to press her crotch firmly against it. When my hand slid down her back to press her even closer, she broke out of the kiss. With a throaty laugh she rubbed her body full-length against me to declare: -

"Glad you made up your mind. Why should they have all the fun!"

Standing there, against the sink, matters between Sue and I progressed quickly. She had declared herself ready for whatever the others were doing and held nothing back. When my hand slowly slid-up her thigh, still pressed tightly against mine, to her ass it found it bare. When I mumbled: -

"Lovely. You are dressed for a hot night or ... is it going to be a naughty one?"

Sue kissed me in affirmation. Then, with a soft purling laugh she said: -

"I lived in hope, Mark. I like you. Have fancied you since we met last Sunday."

I knew it was not the truth. She turned her head to look out into the living room and so did I. They had switched on a moody, subdued lighting. Ian was partly hidden behind the table. In view were Birgit's legs, invitingly spread, her dark bush covered by a hand and no longer the red cloth of her panties. Sue pressed herself hard against me. With her voice half-strangled with emotion, was it anger, was it lust, she said: -

"Look at them, they are at it again! What are we going to do? Join them? Do you want to watch? Does it turn you on?"

Sue broke out of our embrace. Stepping up to the table, with her back turned on me she busied herself with the Sparkling. Aiming the bottle to direct the cork to explode into the living-room, she grinned at me: -

"I've seen all this before. If you prefer, I'd like to take you and this bottle away to a convenient bed."

She moved in again for some more, serious kissing, turning my face away from looking into the living-room. After a while she drew away. Reaching for the bottle and with an over-the-shoulder, - "Are you coming?", she led the way across the living room to the hallway. I followed.

In passing I saw that Birgit had mounted Ian. She was crouched over his prostrate body. Her dress was rucked-up over her breasts and his cock was in her; Birgit's beautiful ass moved slowly up and down. Although she was still silent and had not yet started to properly ride him, the glistening wet-white at the root of Ian's cock proved that for her this was no longer just a dry fuck. I avoided looking at her face.

Sue took me to a spare bedroom, turned on a bedside lamp. She turned around, looked at me challengingly, and lifted the bottle to her mouth for a swig of Sparkling. Putting the bottle down on the bedside table, she started to sway her hips. She lifted her arms over her head and said: -

"Well! Here we are. You saw what they are up-to. Again! Let's get even. I am all yours. Want to be mine?"

Desire for her and an acceptance of the situation not of my making had almost replaced any anger. I bent down for the seam of Sue's shift and slowly pealed it off her body. She was much more beautiful naked than she appeared when dressed or in her bathers: Tall, slim and well-proportioned, she had small, firm breasts with dark areolas and perky nipples; nicely rounded hips, long legs and shapely thighs rounded off by a sexy, firmly contoured ass with sexily dimpled buttocks.

As Sue offered herself so freely there was no awkwardness in our beginning. I suddenly felt that our sexual encounter, being a bit of a joke, should happen in a light-hearted, joyful mood. Sitting on the bed, I took a studied, long look at her before I pulled her close. Putting my hands on her hips I turned her left and right and then around, grunting at her when she appeared to stiffen under my directing hands, but then making prolonged, appreciative humming sounds as I admired every part of her closely. She had stopped struggling and swayed to be admired., Finally, after kissing her hips and belly, I declared: -

"Hm, you'll do nicely as a consolation."

Sue burst out laughing, gave me a playful slap, pressed my face briefly against her belly and bush and threw herself onto the bed. While I bent down to take off my shoes, her hand wandered up my back under my shirt. When I stood up, Sue's time had come to take revenge. She ordered me to turn around. Reaching for my belt-buckle she, grinning lasciviously, gave her orders: -

"It's my turn now to inspect the goods. Take off your shirt while I unpack below."

And my pants were deftly unbuckled, unhooked and unzipped and sent sliding to the ground. She repeated what I had done to her. With me standing in front of her, she, on her belly on the bed with her toes twitching, grabbed me by the hips to move me side-ways, to-and-fro, before she declared: -