Playing With Fire Ch. 03

When Roger and Candy invited us to go with them to the house party the following Saturday night, Beth seemed so excited, I couldn't say no. I made the resolution to set aside my insecurity and doubts and embrace this new adventure for the sake of my wife. She seemed happier than she had been in years, and I wasn't about to be the one to put an end to it.

The afternoon of the party, Beth returned from her weekly grocery shopping with a surprise. As we unpacked the groceries, she reached into one of the bags with a sly grin on her face. I asked what she was smiling about, and she produced a box of condoms.

"Just in case," she said with a giggle.

"In case what?" I asked.

"I don't know...in case we decide to go full-swap."

Her proposal felt like a knife to my chest. I wasn't ready for that next step just yet. I was still processing the vision of her sucking another man's dick.

"I know you hate condoms," she continued, "but if you're going to be fucking some strange woman, I want you to be safe."

I appreciated her attempt to frame the proposal from my perspective. It was true; I hated condoms, and hadn't worn one in more than twenty years. Beth and I practiced the "pull-out" method when we first married, and it resulted in two children in two years. During the C-section for our second child, Beth opted to have her tubes tied. Two children were as many as we ever wanted. I was relieved to know that I would never need to wear a condom again. Or so I thought at the time.

I decided to table the "full-swap" discussion for a later time. Given how far we had already gone, it seemed trivial to concern ourselves about going one extra base. Either we were all-in or all-out, and that decision was already made. There was no way to un-ring that particular bell.

As we prepared to leave for the party, Beth produced another surprise from her shopping trip. It was a bottle of rum, which she used to make her own rum punch. She had never made it before, nor had she ever purchased rum before. I couldn't help but notice the amount of rum she used in her mixture, and warned her that she should test it out before we left. She filled a glass, and emptied it by the time we departed. On the ride to the party, I noticed she was already slurring her speech a little.

Looking back, I believe Beth needed the "liquid courage" to justify what she was doing with other men. She was never a big drinker at any point in her life, and her drinking was as out of character for her as her sexual behavior. I only wish I had recognized that pattern earlier.

When we arrived at the party, we found that it was as crowded as it was during our first visit. It was no wonder the hosts were able to afford such a large house, given the amount of money they must have earned from those parties alone. We navigated through the horde and found a place to store our drinks. Beth poured herself a cup from her rum mixture, and I grabbed a beer.

We found Roger and Candy chatting with another couple, and Beth interrupted their conversation by giving Roger an extended kiss. She swirled her tongue in his mouth, and gave his cock a squeeze through his pants.

"Save that for me later?" she asked in a little girl's voice. It was highly unusual to see her acting so aggressively, but this was all a part of the "new Beth" persona. Roger looked as surprised by her behavior as I was. He merely smiled and gave her a playful slap on the ass.

For the next several hours, Beth and I milled about the bottom floor, chatting with one couple after another. At times, we would get separated, but I would quickly find her, often chatting and flirting with a single guy. Late in the evening, I found her among a group of men. She was literally hanging on one of them, who seemed to be holding her up with both hands. One of those hands was clearly up her skirt. They were all laughing boisterously.

"Honey," I said, "are you doing okay?"

She looked at me, and her eyes were swimming in her head. "I'm doing great!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, she's in good hands," one of the men said, causing the others to laugh.

"Maybe we should go outside for a while and get some air," I suggested.

"Okay," she said.

I had to use the bathroom, so I told her to meet me outside, and then pressed my way through the crowd to reach the bathroom. When I emerged, I found Candy standing along one of the walls.

"Hey, there, sexy lady," I said. "Where's your husband?"

She pointed him out in the crowd.

"Why are you standing here all alone?" I asked.

"I was waiting for you," she said, and leaned in to kiss me.

Our lips and tongues played together, and I ran my hands all along her body. I then made an amazing discovery: I could feel my cock expanding. My dick was finally working for this woman! I instantly thought of taking her to one of the private rooms upstairs and using one of those condoms on her.

"What do you say we grab Roger and Beth and head upstairs?" I suggested.

"Ooh, you dirty boy!" she teased. "That sounds great."

We met with Roger, and the three of us walked outside to get Beth. She wasn't there. We walked back inside, and I led them to the last place I had seen her, but she wasn't there, either. We fought our way through the crowd in search of her, and circled the bottom floor, but came up empty.

That is when I saw several men ascending the stairs in a hurry. My heart sank, and a cold chill crept up my spine.

"I think I know where she is," I said to them.

Each step felt like a lifetime. Time slowed to a crawl. A crowd of men were gathered at the end of the hallway, facing one of the open rooms. I could hear moaning, along with some laughter and shouting.

"Take it, bitch!" one of them said.

"Fuck yeah! You like that, you fucking slut?" another shouted.

My heart was pounding, and my palms were sweaty. I had a suspicion of what I would see when I peered into that room, but I still wasn't prepared for it.

Beth was lying on her back, in the middle of the bed, completely naked. She was surrounded by men. Some were half-dressed, some were fully nude, and others simply had their dicks hanging from the zippers of their pants.

Two men on the bed were holding her legs wide apart, as far as they would stretch. Another was straddling her face, fucking her mouth. Another was between her legs, fucking her pussy. That man emitted a loud groan.

"Fuuuuck yeah!!" he groaned, the muscles in his neck tensing tightly.

The man straddling her face pulled his cock out of her mouth, and stroked himself over her face, covering her cheeks, lips and hair with several large spurts of cum.

"Who's next?" the man between her legs asked, and another man hurried to take his place.

I was frozen for a moment, in a state of denial about what I was seeing. I had always been a big fan of gangbang videos; especially the videos featuring wives who take on multiple men at adult movie theaters, gloryholes or outdoor "dogging" areas. The idea of a wife being used in such a way was so taboo, I had always considered it to be the height of erotica. But seeing my own wife – my lifelong friend and companion, and the mother of my children – being used in such a demeaning way...I was sickened by it.

I shoved my way into the room, past several men, and pushed the man between her legs backward just as he entered her. I was horrified to see he wasn't wearing a condom. Judging by the wet spot on the sheet beneath her, it seemed doubtful that the previous man wore one, either.

"What the fuck, dude?" the man said. "Wait your turn for this fucking slut, just like everyone else."

"She's my wife!" I shouted, causing several of the men to laugh. "Everybody, get the fuck out of here."

I looked down at Beth. Her face, hair, and chest were all covered in milky-white fluid. She looked at me with dazed, bloodshot eyes, and cracked a crooked smile.

"Hi, honey," she slurred. "I was just being slutty, just like you wanted." Her speech was almost indecipherable.

"We're going home," I told her, and looked around the room for her clothes.

I wiped her down with some paper towels that I found on a nightstand, and helped her get dressed. I helped her to her feet and practically carried her toward the door. Roger and Candy were standing in the doorway. The expression of pity and disgust on their faces is something I will never forget.

***

It has been more than four years since that incident. Beth doesn't recall a lot of what happened that night, and I haven't provided her with any details. She spent the entire next morning and early afternoon hovered over a toilet. She hasn't had a sip of rum since then.

We never returned to that party, nor have we seen Roger or Candy since that night. Beth was humiliated by what happened, and felt so guilty about it that our sex life began to suffer as a result. For a long time afterward, I couldn't look at her without seeing that vision of her covered in the spunk of several different men. It took a while for me to erase that image. For about a year, we hardly had sex at all.

She went back to wearing "normal" clothing, and stopped exercising altogether. All the weight she lost eventually came back as well. I believe she was suffering from depression, and I sought counseling, first for her, and then for us.

In reflection, I realized I should have escorted her outside and made sure she was safe that night. I promised that I would look out for her and ensure her safety. Instead, I left her alone with all of those lecherous jackals. I dropped the ball. I lost a lot of her trust that night, and I've worked hard to get it back. Trust is a funny thing, though. It takes a lifetime to build, and only a brief moment to lose.

From that very first night at the club, I believe she was waiting for me to stop her from being with another man before it actually happened. Instead, I willingly gave her away, and I've had to deal with the guilt of that decision ever since.

I realize now that all of this could have been avoided if we had simply communicated honestly with each other. Beth told our counselor that she felt inadequate, as if I would never be satisfied with her, sexually, no matter what efforts she made. She explained that she was only trying to do what she thought I wanted her to do, to fulfill my fantasies and become the lover I always wanted.

If she had only told me that from the beginning, things would have turned out differently. And if I had told her about my doubts and reservations about swinging once we started down that path, a lot of what happened could have been avoided. If we had taken it a little slower, maybe we could have found a way to make it work. Or maybe we would have come to an earlier decision that it simply wasn't what we wanted.

We have made a lot of progress in working out our issues and coming to terms with the decisions we made. It has taken some time, but we are reaching a good place – perhaps even better than we had before that little adventure. In a strange way, I feel that our extra-marital experiment may have been the best thing to ever happen for our marriage. We communicate better today than ever before, and we really understand each other on a level that I am not sure we would have reached if those events had never occurred.

During our counseling sessions, I was forced to explore why I had that particular fantasy in the first place. In the end, I determined that all I ever really wanted was to provoke her into opening up, sexually, and to have no-holds-barred, raw, passionate sex with me like we used to have when we first met. I felt that maybe I just didn't turn her on anymore, and that is why our sex life suffered. I figured that if another man made her feel sexy, then I would reap the rewards.

I still fantasize about men sharing their wives – but other men and other wives. I have reassured Beth that she is a priceless treasure to me, never to be shared with anyone else ever again. That reassurance has comforted her enough that she has even begun re-introducing our fantasies into the bedroom. On occasion, she will call out the name of a random guy, just to get our motors running a little hotter. Only now, we both understand that some fantasies are better left as fantasies.