Memoirs of a Swinger Ep. 38

This is the thirty-sixth episode of my unreliable memoirs recounting sexual encounters in the nineteen eighties. Each episode is self-contained, so you can read them without having read the previous ones.

It's 1985 and for the first time Steven is going skiing.

I hope you enjoy the tale.

M4bloke

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Normality Descends

After the initial flurry of activity, January and February settled down and life proceeded pretty much according to plan.

Lesley and I got our exercise regimes back on track, we went to our French classes on a Monday evening and we never missed a Thursday at the International School of Martial Arts. Lesley and Suzy were becoming quite good and from time to time I sparred with them. I'd never been sure about women's self-defence classes. It had always seemed to me that at best they were ineffective, at worst they gave you a confidence that wasn't justified. But under Tracey's tutelage I could see that, against the average guy in the street, both girls stood a good chance of putting him on the ground.

With a firearm it was a different matter however. Suzy was plain scared of guns and you could see it in her face when she fired one. Lesley, on the other hand, was good. In fact she was better than good. Her hand-eye coordination was exceptional, but you could also see that Lesley enjoyed firing a gun. She was my own little Annie Oakley.

Work on the house extension progressed well. Martin Coulson was true to his word and he and Mike turned up for work every day without fail, while Mike's son, Terry was never seen or heard of again. I found out from Mike that Martin had given his wife the boot too. He'd also sacked anyone who'd slept with her.

Over time, Emma's English improved considerably. The comedian, Eric Morecambe, used to joke that, when he played the piano, he was playing all the right notes, just not necessarily in the right order. This had pretty much described Emma's English when she'd first arrived. But speaking the language every day, soon sorted her out and helping out at the comic book store made a difference too.

Lesley and I tried to be good hosts to Emma and took her for a couple of weekends away, to Edinburgh and York. But, in truth, when you're young it's hard to beat London for things to do.

Work was going well too. The battlefield system prototype was up and running, which meant that testing could begin. Work had also started on the demonstration units. We'd even fleshed out a deal with the Obermann Group to market and manufacture the production units.

As far as the consultancy was concerned Uwe was doing a great job of leading the work on-site at Obermann Automotive, while Sam covered both the consultancy and the battlefield system from a technical perspective.

One significant event which occurred in January, but didn't seem so important at the time, was the hiring of Tom Pemberton, Charles' son. Tom was thirty two, he'd been to all the right schools and had a good CV but his career had stalled. I needed someone like Tom to work with me on the New Technology Investment side and so I hired him. The only problem was that he had to give three months' notice to his current employers. Three months seemed like an age at the pace things were moving.

In February, my mum and dad came to stay with us for a week. They were having central heating installed in their house and there was no alternative but for them to move out while the floorboards were lifted up. It was a stressful time for Lesley but most of the stress was self-imposed. She desperately wanted to show my mum how good a wife she was.

With Carole, Suzy and Emma already resident it was a full house that week. My Dad was uncomfortable around so many women and so he and I went to the pub most evenings while my mum and the girls stayed in and chatted. Mum loved Suzy and Emma but she was less certain about Carole. She and Carole weren't so far apart in age and mum couldn't see why someone with so much money would choose to live in a single bedroom in a house full of youngsters.

When the week ended, Lesley was finally able to relax. Of course, she hadn't needed to try so hard. As far as my parents were concerned, she had nothing to prove.

Suzy and Uwe began to adapt to the restrictions placed on them by the terms of Uwe's inheritance. They started to keep a log of the nights they spent together to make sure they stayed below fifty percent. Uwe worked in Germany most of the working week, flying home on a Thursday or Friday to be with Suzy. We saw them most weekends, sometimes for sex, sometimes just to hang out. Their relationship was tested when Daniel took Suzy away to Florida and Uwe moved in with Kate for the week but by the end everyone agreed that it had been a success.

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My assistant, Lynne and I covered for Uwe in Munich while he was keeping Kate amused in London. It was just the two of us, as Sam was enjoying himself playing with the battlefield prototype in Cambridge.

That week, there was a huge construction expo' in Munich and, as a result, all of the hotels and restaurants were busy. The expo was open to casual visitors of an evening and so, on the Monday night, Lynne humoured me and we went to take a look. I was fascinated by the big earth movers and diggers but I could see that it did nothing for her.

On the Tuesday evening Lynne and I met up with Gerhard and Katja for a drink after work. Katja was my counterpart at the Munich bank, owned by Markus and Heike while Gerhard was Stefan Voigt's assistant as well as being Uwe's best friend. In fact it was through Gerhard and Katja that Suzy and Uwe had met.

Both Lesley and I had slept with Katja. Lesley had also slept with Gerhard once and I dutifully explained this to Lynne before we met them. I also explained that the meeting was going to be purely social just in case she got the wrong idea.

It was a really good evening and Lynne got on well with both of them. Gerhard was an excellent conversationalist and took us to a really nice restaurant. I tried to pay but he wouldn't have it. I suspected that it was Stefan Voigt who would be footing the bill in reality though.

By the time we finished work at Obermann's offices on the Wednesday, the two of us were beginning to flag. We decided to eat in the hotel restaurant and have an early night but when we went to pick up our keys from reception we found that there'd been a mistake. My room had been given to somebody else. Worse still, the hotel had collected all the stuff from the room and put it into storage.

Lynne showed the clerk the booking she'd made and even our guest cards showed that we'd booked both rooms for three nights. The clerk was powerless to do anything however and the manager was summoned. Lynne let him have it with both barrels in German. I don't know what she said but it sounded vicious. To say that the manager was apologetic was an understatement, but in spite of this he couldn't give me back my room.

"You can sleep in my room," Lynne offered.

"We've got options," I told her. "I can call Gerhard and Katja and stay in Uwe's room, or Markus has a place in town. I might be able to stay there."

"Don't be silly," Lynne told me. "Are you worried I won't be able to resist you?"

"Ok," I joked, "but promise you'll be gentle with me."

Lynne laughed then returned to the task of verbally abusing the hotel manager.

"The hotel is going to move your stuff into my room," she said afterwards, "and as a gesture of goodwill they're giving us both a voucher for three nights in any of their hotels."

"Tell them to give you all six instead."

"Thank you, Steven."

We staggered the use of the room. I waited in the bar while Lynne freshened up then she waited in the bar while I did the same. Afterwards, we had a few drinks, then a meal and then a few more drinks until we couldn't put off going to bed any longer.

When we got up to our room, Lynne used the bathroom first and when she'd finished she emerged in a tee shirt and panties. I went second but I didn't have a tee shirt, just my boxer shorts. When I walked back into the bedroom Lynne was already in bed under the covers.

"I didn't bring any tee shirts," I said apologetically.

"It doesn't matter," Lynne told me. "I took mine off after I'd got in anyway."

I crept into bed making sure not to disturb the bedding on Lynne's side then made myself as comfortable as possible.

"Goodnight then," I offered.

"Goodnight. See you in the morning."

"I guess so."

I turned the light off and we both lay there motionless.

Sleep didn't come quickly and after about ten minutes Lynne spoke up.

"Do you fancy something from the mini bar?" she asked.

"Good idea. I'll get it. What do you want?"

"Vodka or gin. Neat is fine."

I switched one of the bedside lights on then got out of bed to investigate the mini bar. Retrieving two vodka miniatures I poured them into a tumbler then did the same for myself with the whisky miniatures.

"Cheers," I said getting back into bed.

"Cheers," Lynne replied.

"Well, I think this is probably one of the strangest nights I've ever spent with a woman," I admitted.

"And how many have there been?" Lynne asked. "Women, not nights that is."

I did a quick mental calculation.

"Around twenty."

"Amateur," Lynne scoffed.

"Go on then?" I asked.

"Forty, maybe a few more," she replied. "But this is definitely a first."

"And how's it going so far?" I joked.

"I think my date's a bit shy."

"Maybe he's worried he'll offend you. He knows that the last time you were with a guy it didn't go well."

"What would you suggest I do to reassure him?"

"Tell him what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking what happened, happened a long time ago. Perhaps it's time for me to be a bit more adventurous. Siobhan's always telling me I should be. So maybe a kiss might be a good place to start."

I put my drink on the nightstand and waited until Lynne had done the same before moving nearer. I had to put my arm somewhere to get close enough to kiss her and so I reached out and rested it on her hip. Lynne put her hand on my shoulder and then we kissed. I wasn't sure what it was going to be like but it turns out that kissing a lesbian is pretty much the same as kissing a straight girl. Who'd have thought it?

When we came up for air it was reassuring to see that Lynne didn't look as though she was going to be physically sick, which I took as a good sign.

"If Siobhan could see me now," she laughed.

"What would she say?"

"'You bastard', probably. It's her that fancies you."

"She's got a nice body I must admit, but her bush is a bit hairy for my tastes."

"I keep telling her that. I'm always getting her pubic hair stuck in my teeth."

Lynne and I kissed some more and I decided to be bold. I moved my hand and began to caress one of her breasts. Lynne reached down and felt my erection through the material of my boxers.

"Is that for me?" she asked.

"I can't help it," I joked, "it has a mind of its own."

"Can I hold it?"

I pulled the sheets from over me, removed my boxers then lay back. Lynne knelt beside me and took my cock in one hand.

"I don't know what do," she laughed.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Make it cum of course."

"Well you could wank it, but really any sort of rubbing works."

Lynne climbed on top of me and, with her panties on, began to dry hump me.

"Does that work?" she asked.

"It's not bad."

"So what do you think of my body?" she began as she moved her hips backward and forwards on me, one hand in her own panties, frigging herself.

Lynne had one of those long distance runners bodies, quite straight up and down but not unattractive for it

"I guess I've never thought of you in a sexual way before," I told her, "But I like what I see."

"Do you think I'm plain? Siobhan says I try to be too plain."

"In the office, I think that you dress so as not to bring attention to yourself,"

"You're right," she said. "Would you like it if I was less plain?"

"Sure, but I'd prefer you to be comfortable."

Lynne stopped talking and focussed on the orgasm she was about to have. She closed her eyes and steadied herself with her free hand. I tried to help out by playing with her nipples and it seemed to be well received. When she orgasmed, Lynne beat her hand furiously against her pussy then, afterwards, collapsed in a heap on me.

"Well that's a first," she said afterwards. "I've never cum on top of a guy before."

"I'm glad to have been of assistance," I told her.

"Are you ready to cum?"

"Most of the time," I laughed.

Lynne got off me and knelt by my side again.

"How do I do it?" she asked

"Slowly stroke my cock with one hand and gently stroke my balls with the other," I instructed.

Lynne did as she was told and I closed my eyes and let her pleasure me.

"Now wank it harder now and faster," I urged when I could feel that she was having the desired effect.

Lynne responded and after a minute or so of furious wanking her efforts were rewarded. But when I opened my eyes I was greeted with an unexpected sight. Her face was covered in cum. It had been three days since I'd last had sex and it looked like she'd caught the full load head on.

"What happened?" I asked laughing.

"What do you mean?"

"Your face, it's covered in cum."

"I thought that's what guys liked."

"In porn movies perhaps, but it's not mandatory," I chuckled, passing her some tissues.

"I wish you'd told me that two minutes ago," Lynne responded wiping the cum from her face.

"The rest was very nice," I said, holding my arm out and inviting her to snuggle into me.

"I enjoyed being able to make you cum like that," Lynne told me, clearly happy with her handiwork.

"Me too," I told her....

Gstaad

To say that Lesley and Kate were excited to be going to Gstaad was an understatement. Since they'd found out, it had been pretty much all they'd talked about with each other. It was good to see them getting along so well and spending time together. In the hectic life we'd been leading, their friendship had been ignored a little lately and I felt a bit sorry for Kate. Lesley had Carole and Suzy and even Emma for girly chats whenever she wanted, whereas Kate didn't.

Much clothing needed to be purchased for the trip it seemed, not only for the girls but also for their husbands too. Fortunately Daniel and I didn't need to be present. We just had to try it on when they got home and look appreciative. It worked for me. I didn't trust my own dress sense, but I think that Daniel quietly had his assistant return some of the items Kate purchased and replaced with ones more to his taste.

Daniel and Kate were both proficient skiers, while Lesley knew the basics from school trips. It was just me who was clueless. To remedy this, Lesley took me to a dry ski slope in Beckton, East London for lessons. Locally it was known as the Beckton Alp, although any similarity to the real Alps ended with the name. Built on the site of a toxic slag heap sealed with clay, the Alp was the only hill on the horizon. It was however hugely popular with Londoners who wanted to get in some skiing practise before their holiday.

Basically the ski slope consisted of a type of matting cut into diamonds which, when wet, you could sort of glide down. In time, I would come to learn that it wasn't like real snow, but at least it had enabled me to master the basics of starting, stopping and turning.

As was his preference, Daniel had hired a private plane to fly the four of us to Gstaad. The light was fading as the little turbo prop plane made its spectacular descent into Saanen airport. The mountains looked magnificent out of the plane's windows however they were also responsible for the turbulence we felt as we bounced our way onto the runway. There was a collective sense of relief when all the wheels were safely on the ground.

The plane taxied to a halt and, once the engines had been cut, two black Mercedes limousines pulled up alongside. A black Mercedes van followed, ready to pick up the luggage. The limousines first took us to clear passport control and then we made the short journey to the resort.

I'd expected the Obermanns to own a quaint chalet nestling in the mountains, a bit like the one they had in Garmisch. What they actually had was a private apartment in one of the oldest hotels in town. I'd heard of people who lived in hotels, people like Howard Hughes and Coco Chanel or even Oscar Wilde but I'd never thought about it much before. It made a lot of sense really. The Obermanns had their own private space in the centre of an upmarket skiing town but with all the facilities of a hotel too. An ideal holiday home I guess. If you had the money.

It was seven o'clock by the time we arrived at the apartment. Ursula and Ferdi were there to greet us, along with Markus and Heike.

"Steven. Good to see you again," Ferdi boomed as he shook my hand. Then, turning to Lesley and politely hugging her, he said, "I'm Ferdi, we didn't really get to know each other the last time we met."

"No we didn't," Lesley responded. "I'm very excited to be here."

Ursula greeted us both with hugs.

"I'm so glad you could come," she told Lesley. "And thank you for bringing Steven with you,"

"We've both been looking forward to it Ursula," Lesley explained. "I've been trying to teach Steven to ski on a dry ski slope near us."

"Don't worry, I've arranged for some tuition for him," Ursula replied.

When it came to my turn to hug Ursula I gave her a squeeze and I thought I felt her sigh.

"Now, no business talk," she warned everyone, "or at least, not when there are ladies present."

"We wouldn't dream of it," I joked.

Heike had waited patiently for her turn to greet us. When it came, she attached herself limpet-like to both Lesley and me. Heike came across all brash and confident but it was a façade. Since being drugged and abducted at the swingers' weekend in Titisee, Heike trusted very few people. Lesley and I had rescued her then and she felt safe with us. In fact she felt more than safe, she felt invincible. After her abduction she'd had what I imagined was similar self-defence training to that which Lesley and Suzy had been given. It made her a dangerous proposition on a night out. She'd already threatened a guy with a broken bottle in Annecy and heaven help any man who came on too strong.

When all of the introductions had been made, Ferdi announced that the plan was to eat in one of the hotel's restaurants that evening. Ursula showed us to our room which had a lovely view of the town and we freshened up before eating. I could see that Lesley was still excited and when we were alone she hugged me tightly.

"This is so beautiful, isn't it?"

"Do you mean the apartment or the place?"

"Everything."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Do I need your permission to fuck Ferdi or Markus?"

"No, not if you want to."

"Good because I want us to enjoy ourselves this weekend. I'm feeling a bit wild and I'd like to let my hair down."

"Go for it," I told her.

"Even if it means being a little slut?" she teased.

"I like it when you're a little slut."

Lesley went into the bathroom to freshen up while I unpacked the rest of my stuff. I opened the door to the nightstand and inside was a safe identical to the one in the chalet in Garmisch. It was locked but I tried the code I'd used in Garmisch. The safe opened and inside was a Sig P226 and a spare clip, just like before.

As it turned out, Wednesday evening was not an opportunity for Lesley to be a slut. We ate dinner in the hotel that evening and as it had been a long day for everyone it seemed that an early night was in order, before hitting the slopes on Thursday morning. Lesley and I were both pretty horny however so we fucked when we got back to our room and then again in the shower before breakfast.