Mirror

I couldn't watch what I was seeing but I couldn't not watch either. I was somehow drawn to the utter monstrosity of it. I couldn't turn away. Phil and I moved back away from the mirror toward the bed and I couldn't see them any more. I got up off the bed and moved sideways until I could see their reflection on the bed. When I watched me spread my legs and Phil enter me, I threw the blanket over the mirror and ran from the room.

I sat in the kitchen nursing my first early morning lime cosmopolitan while I tried to make sense of what I had seen in the mirror. Was I cheating on Irv with Phil? I didn't think so. I knew in my heart I would never cheat on Irv. From what I saw in the mirror, Phil had a nice package to offer but, even so, I would never, ever jump in the sack with him, or anyone else, even if I knew about his attributes in advance.

So, what else could explain it? Where were Irv and Irene during my interlude with Phil and what were they doing? The only thing that made sense is that they knew exactly what Phil and I were up to and agreed with it. That led me to conclude that they were having their own exchange of bodily fluids. Irv was fucking Irene.

So, it seemed, we would, sometime in the next three months, agree to an exchange of spouses, wife and husband swapping. Not only that, I'd seen Phil and me on Saturday morning. He had spent the night in my bed. Things had progressed beyond a quick fuck. The three of them would obviously agree to the exchange and I was the last to know.

No, that wasn't right. I was actually the first to know. It hasn't happened yet. Neither the agreement nor even the germination of the idea of such an arrangement. I don't know if it would be Phil's and my first time or the next in a sequence of such events that began before April twenty fifth. I knew what will happen three months from now. The other three didn't.

How could I use the information to my advantage? Could I work to prevent it from happening at all? That thought didn't seem possible. I saw the future in the mirror. If I could steer the others away from engaging in the swap, what I saw in the mirror would have been different. Scratch that possibility. The mirror wasn't predicting the future, it was reflecting actual events. Predictions could be wrong. They often were. The events in the mirror were real. They would happen.

So, it seems my only option was to influence the others to approach the idea maturely. I would have sex with Phil and Irv would have sex with Irene. It seemed inevitable so I needed to make it as easy and free of guilt as possible. I needed to steer the relationship in a direction so we were all comfortable, willing and passionate when it happened.

I spent the afternoon considering how to approach the others and how to handle potential objections. I was on my third lime cosmopolitan when Irv came home. He knew, once again, that I had a problem. He inquired and I told him every thing was okay. I was just distracted about the damn mirror and its unexpected reflections. He pushed further but I convinced him it was nothing to worry about and I was fine. I fact, I was more than fine. I had skipped lunch and Irv was hungry after eighteen holes. He found enough cold cuts and rye bread for a decent sandwich, grabbed a beer and left me alone with my lime cosmopolitan.

That evening, after we watched Denver squeak out a win against Irv's beloved Patriots, we watched a movie I chose. I took a shower and crawled into bed naked. I cuddled up to Irv and rubbed my body against his. It was Sunday night. Not a night we usually engaged in sexual activity. Irv is a guy and guys will be guys, so Irv responded appropriately. Soon I was able to relieve him of the shorts he usually wore to bed I used my hands and then my mouth to maximize his guyness and then took the initiative and climbed over his hips and lowered myself down onto him and inside me.

Later, as we lay alongside each other in unexpected post coital bliss, I asked him, "Irv, do you ever fantasize?"

"Fantasize? What would I fantasize about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Tonight was somehow different."

"Different?" he wondered out loud.

"There seemed to be more energy. More excitement. More sensuality. The movie had some pretty graphic bedroom scenes and I wondered if you were imagining I was someone else. Maybe the actress in the movie."

"No. Were you identifying with the actress or imagining that I was the actor?"

"Not consciously but my thinking isn't usually clear or focused during sex."

"Not consciously? That leaves room for the possibility."

"You're right. I can't deny it but I don't think I was. That leaves the same possibility for you, doesn't it?"

"I guess," he said before he rolled over and went to sleep. His last words were something like "Fuckin' Broncos."

I spent the next week with my daily routine and pondering my next move with the mirror. On Saturday evening I excused myself several times to check the reflections in the mirror, even checking oblique angles to see the bed, hoping to see activity on Friday evening, May first. I didn't see anything. Sunday morning I repeated the routine with the same result.

The next Saturday evening, I tried again. Near ten o'clock, the angled view showed Irv sitting on the edge of the bed alongside Irene on Friday, May sixth.

I went into the living room. Irv was watching a late NHL game. I picked up my e-reader and told him I was going into the bedroom to read and he should feel free to finish watching the game.

I sat on the floor at a perfect angle to watch the action on the bed. By the time I got back, Irene was topless and Irv was kissing her breasts. Her tits were larger than mine and I felt a little jealous as Irv slobbered back and forth between them.

Ten minutes later, they were both naked. Irv's package seemed larger than usual. Maybe it was the mirror. Maybe the mirror also enlarged Irene's tits as well. Irene was working orally on Irv's erection. I watched her technique. My unbiased conclusion was I was a better cocksucker. Irv didn't seem to mind and he came in her mouth and I watched her swallow. I usually didn't take Irv all the way orally and hadn't ever swallowed when I misjudged. I resolved to change my approach in the future.

Irv sucked on her pussy lips and clitoris while he recovered and, twenty minutes later, he was fucking her energetically with her legs high over his head and held up with her hands behind her knees.

I got up, covered the mirror and went back into the living room and watched the end of the hockey game with Irv.

The Super Bowl was the next evening and the team the mirror had revealed won. Irv wasn't overly impressed. Carolina versus Denver didn't interest him. It should have been the Patriots. The mirror's confirmation was no big deal and not conclusive enough for him.

The following Saturday was inactive. I didn't think we were taking every other Friday night off so we had to be alternating homes. We must have been at Phil and Irene's.

I told Irv a horse named Nyquist would win the Kentucky Derby.

The next Saturday I watched as Irene and I both were naked on the bed with Phil. Irene was sucking his cock and I was kissing him with open mouth and lots of tongue. Phil had one hand on my tit and the other inside Irene's pussy. While I watched, Irv got on the bed and entered me from behind. I covered the mirror and left the room to watch the game with Irv.

The next Saturday night was a no show evening. I calculated it was May twenty seventh in the mirror.

On Saturday, March fifth, I witnessed the future four of us screwing side by side in our bedroom on June third and I told Irv that Alexander Rossi would win the Indianapolis 500.

I skipped the next Saturday, assuming we were partying at Irene and Phil's.

On Saturday evening, March nineteenth, I watched, fascinated, as Irene and I had intense sex with each other. I saw neither Irv nor Phil. I watched mesmerized as we pleasured each other. We looked insanely happy. I'd never considered having sex with another woman but watching us together stirred something inside me. I had to make it happen.

Watching was becoming a fetish. I needed to make it real.

On Tuesday, the mirror revealed Dustin Johnson to be the winner of the US Open Golf Tournament in June. I told Irv but he was reluctant to bet on a sports event when we still didn't have confirmation of our bet on the stock market, however, he was beginning to come around.

Tuesday evening, I again raised the concept of fantasizing during sex. "Irv, I said. "I have a confession. Just now I consciously imagined that you were that actor while we had sex."

"Interesting," he said. "And did you notice a difference?"

"I did but I have to explain. I never lost the fact that it was you I was having sex with. That is the reality and I love it. Just once in a while, I wondered how it might feel if you were him. My imagination took me beyond my usual safe space and it made things more sensual somehow."

"Really. Care to elaborate?

"My orgasm was stronger and it lasted longer."

"Wow. That much?"

"Yes, but you get the credit. It was only you in reality. I think I just put more energy into it. I think you should try it."

"You want me to imagine some sexy broad in bed with me when we're having sex?"

"Sure. Why not? There's no harm. Nobody's cheating. It's just a game."

"I'll think about it," he said as he rolled over and went to sleep.

The next day, I invited Irene and Phil to dinner Friday night.

Phil and Irene arrived about six pm. The guys grabbed a couple of beers and went out on the patio to bullshit each other. Irene hung around the kitchen with me to catch up and help with the final dinner preparations.

I poured each of us large portions of white wine to sip while we worked and talked. When the conversation lagged and I felt the timing was right, I asked, "Irene, do you and Phil ever fantasize during sex?"

Irene answered as if the question was a normal inquiry and not a complete non sequitur. "You mean about other people?"

"That's one possibility. Do you ever imagine Phil is someone else that you're having sex with?"

"I do. We do. Both Phil and I sometimes fantasize about fucking someone different while we're having sex."

I tried to hide my excitement when I asked, "Doesn't it interfere with your relationship?"

"No. Just the opposite."

"How so?"

"It usually adds excitement to our screwing. We somehow put more energy into it and it leads to some of the best sex we have. We're better together when we fantasize. Why do you ask?" she concluded.

"Recently, I had a fantasy while fucking Irv after watching a sexy movie and I felt dirty and a little guilty afterward."

"How was the sex? Irene asked.

"It was fantastic and Phil noticed. He even commented on it."

"So, there you go. Nothing to feel guilty about and better sex can't be dirty."

"You're right but the guy I fantasized about is a movie star and unavailable. What if I begin to fantasize about someone who might be available? I don't want to jeopardize my marriage with real possibilities."

"Do you have someone in mind?" asked Irene.

"No but I never know when some hunk might cross my path and inflame my libido. That could be unhealthy for my marriage."

"I don't see how an inflamed libido could possibility be bad for your marriage. You've already admitted that imagining sex with another man, whether available or not, added heat to your sex life. Why not a real fire?"

"I've never thought about it that way. You make it seem reasonable. I'm concerned that my fantasy might push me to reach out and try to make it real.

"Just reaching out wouldn't do it. It takes two. Whomever you reached out to would have to accept your offer. He'd have to want to. I don't see much risk, short of the embarrassment of rejection."

"There's still no candidate I can think of."

"How about Phil?" suggested Irene.

"Whoa. Are you offering Phil as a sexual partner for me?" I asked.

"No. Just as a fantasy object."

"What if I get hooked on the fantasy and approach him for something real?"

"That would be interesting. I assume he'd want to talk to me about it or risk our marriage. There's no way either of you could keep it secret for long."

"You're pretty liberal. What if you told him it would be okay?" I asked.

"I might but I think I'd put some quid pro quo on my agreement."

"What might that be?"

"Irv."

"Wait! Are you thinking about husband swapping, Phil for Irv?"

"Only theoretically. We're only fantasizing about fantasizing. I don't really think all four of us would agree."

"Well, you've got me thinking and even a little wet." I admitted.

"Interesting," she stated.

"Why?"

"I'm wet too," she said.

"We need to calm down and get dinner on the table," I said temporarily ending the conversation.

Dinner was the usual success. It included two bottles of local red wine and a decadent dessert with ice cream and fresh fruit. After dinner, when the wine was gone, we cleared the table and settled in to play some bridge. We usually played bridge when we got together. Most evenings consisted of three games with different partners. First we played with our spouses, then men versus women and finally with each other's spouses as partners. The player with the highest total score for the three games would win the four-dollar pool we created at the start of play.

Irene was the big winner, four dollars. We cleaned up the table after playing and settled in the living room with snifters of fortified wine.

"That was fun," stated Irene. She held up her glass, "Here's to more mixed games."

We all sipped our drinks. "What does that mean?" asked Irv.

"Just that I enjoyed playing with you as my partner."

I was having a difficult time containing my reaction. I knew she was reflecting back on our conservation in the kitchen before dinner. I couldn't wait to see where and how far she was going to take it.

"We always play the last game with each other as partners," stated Irv.

"We do but tonight if seemed more fun than usual," responded Irene.

"Well, I certainly enjoy playing with you," Irv added.

I almost lost it realizing the double entendre Irv unconsciously included.

"Do you now," Irene continued. "Maybe we should play together more often."

"That would be fun if Phil and Ginny don't mind playing with each other more often," replied Irv further digging the hole he didn't know he was in.

I was intently focused, waiting for Irene's next statement.

Unfortunately, Phil chose that exact moment to yawn. Irene looked at him. "It appears my husband's too tired to play more tonight. Maybe we can discuss it further next time."

It would be four weeks before I woke up after sleeping with Phil all night.

After they left, Irv went into the bedroom while I washed the glasses and tossed the empty wine bottles. Irv was brushing his teeth in his boxers when I came into the bathroom. I stripped down to my underwear and brushed my teeth in front of the second sink while Irv shaved. I took off my bra and panties almost without Irv noticing. I walked behind him and pulled off his shorts. That got his attention.

He turned and looked at me. That got his cock's attention. Before he could speak, I took his hand and led him to the bed. We lay in bed next to each other. I was paying attention to his attentive cock, always keeping the promise of more to come.

"Irv," I said. "Were you listening to Irene earlier?"

"Yeah. She likes playing bridge with me as a partner," he said.

"I think there was a deeper meaning behind her words," I said.

"What? I don't get it. You need to explain," he said.

"You know the conversations we had recently about fantasizing. Specifically, fantasizing about sex with other people while we were having sex?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think Irene has been fantasizing too."

"How does that relate to playing ...? Shit. You think she's been fantasizing about having sex with me?"

"It is one possible interpretation of her words."

"What should I do? What should we do?"

"I'm about to fuck your brains out. I think you should fantasize about having sex with Irene while I do and we can talk about how you feel about it later."

"Who are you going to fantasize about?"

"Phil is the odd man out."

"Seems reasonable. When do we start?"

"Right now," I said as I straddled his hips and lowered myself on his unusually hard erection. Two minutes later, I popped off him, slid down his body and began to suck his erection using some of the things I saw Irene perform in the mirror.

Irv reached for my ass and I moved until I was straddling his head and lowered my pussy onto his waiting tongue. He was very good. Better than usual. Soon he had my full attention. I got up on my knees and pressed my pussy harder onto his face. He put his hands under my thighs and pushed me up so he could breathe.

We scrambled around until I was on my back with my legs behind my arms and Irv was pounding into me for all he was worth. I had several orgasms and I could feel the liquid running down over my anus. Irv noticed it and adjusted his position until he was pressing his erection against my sphincter. We had tried anal sex in the past without success. In the moment, I didn't care and I pushed back against him. Together we pushed and his cock slipped past my opening and slid deeply inside me. We went to places we had never visited before Irv unleashed a torrent of hot sperm deep in my bowels. The heat spread over my chest and body and I had a final orgasm that shook my world.

Fifteen minutes later, when we could both speak, I looked at Irv and asked, "Any comments?"

"Shit. That was incredible."

"So you were fantasizing?" I asked.

"I was."

"And you were fantasizing about Irene?" I asked further.

"I was."

"I gather from your performance that it was worth the effort."

"It was. Your performance wasn't chopped liver either. I assume you were fantasizing as well."

"I was," I answered.

"And you were fantasizing about Phil?" he asked.

"I was."

"Where do we go from here?" he asked.

"Are you referring to the real possibility. The one where we aren't fantasizing?"

"Does that bother you?" he asked.

"Not if it doesn't bother you. However, we do have to consider Phil and Irene. From how she was choosing her words tonight, I think she might be open to changing the game and the partners. I'm just not sure about Phil's enthusiasm."

"Let me think about it," Irv said as he rolled over and went to sleep.

As I was falling asleep, I thought I could plant the seed with Irene and give Irv the tools to talk to Phil. I fell asleep smiling.

I called Irene late the next morning and we planned a lady's afternoon at the mall.

On Wednesday, Irene and I didn't go shopping. We had a very late lunch in a restaurant that was noisy enough that we could have a private conversation without being overheard, if we sat close enough together.

"Quite an evening," I opened.

"You too?" she asked.

"Do you want to go first or should I?" I asked.

"Does it matter? We probably have similar stories," she offered.

"Okay. I'll go first. After you guys left, Irv and I had incredible sex. A new record for both of us."

"Let me guess," Irene interrupted. "Both of you were imagining sex with someone else."

"Dead on," I said.

"And you were imagining sex with Phil."

"And Irv was imagining sex with you," I finished.

"Same story, just change the names," said Irene.

"So Irv with you and you with Irv and me with Phil and Phil with me," I clarified.

"Dead on," Irene said.

"Do you want to try and make it happen for real?" I asked hesitantly.

"I do if you do," Irene said.

"That wasn't difficult," I thought. "How about the guys?" I asked.