Have you ever tried to get four people to agree on a restaurant? The first wants Chinese, the second Mexican, the third is in the mood for a good burger, and the last person doesn't know what she wants, just as long as it isn't Chinese, Mexican or American.
Getting four people to agree to fool around with each other is often just as difficult.
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Bill and I were in the fourteenth year of our relationship when we both finally agreed, yes, maybe we should start thinking about sex with other people. Not because either of us were dissatisfied with our lives or our marriage, just because it sounded like fun.
We headed to a swinger's club we'd heard about for our first probe. Since neither of us were quite sure what was ahead of us, we agreed we wouldn't play with others that night. But Bill told me frankly I was free to flirt as much as I wanted to. I didn't think I'd be very successful, after all, I was in my mid-forties and weighed fifteen pounds more than the height/weight charts allowed for; who would want me?
Okay, so I was wrong. We were approached by at least four couples and a few single guys, all of them wanting to know our story. We were astounded by the free and easy vibe we got, when a couple asked us to dance and he pulled my ass to his groin, I thought Bill's eyes would bug out. And when the man reached around and held my breast, I rather enjoyed the erotic attention.
Going home, we held the very first of our post-intrigue talks.
"Wow, Lynda, the guys were really into you."
"I saw a few women looking at you, too!"
"Do you think if anyone invited us into a private room you would have wanted to go?"
"I thought about it," I admitted. "But I'm glad no one did, sort of. But how about the next time? Are you ready to go ahead?" Since we'd been talking about it for months, we knew we were getting ready to take the plunge. Oh, I was still unsettled about it. Not the sex part so much for myself, after all when I met Bill I'd already had at least fifteen lovers. Although Bill wasn't as experienced as I was, he'd still been in in bed with a handful of women.
"I think so," he replied. "Tonight when you were dancing with that guy and he felt you up, I was pretty hard."
"You really aren't going to mind if some other guy and I have sex?" It was a question we'd asked each other before, but now it was more poignant as the cusp was approaching.
"I don't think so. If we get a chance, I think we should go for it." I didn't disagree.
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Two days later, we got a message from a couple we'd chatted with at the club, Robert and Barbara. They were older than us, and we had the feeling they were pretty experienced. Robert was appealing to me, he had a mane with just a touch of gray, a strong aquiline nose. Bill admitted he was attracted to Barbara, a blond with a pert disposition. The agreement to meet the next Saturday evening for dinner was quickly made.
I'll admit as we walked into the restaurant I was a bit of a mental wreck. Oh, it wasn't as if I was going to pull the plug or anything, but my senses were all agog. Barbara glided to Bill, kissed him on the cheek; I wished I could be as nonchalant with Robert, I felt awkward in the predicament. I think the other couple realized our aversion, simply overlooked it. I remember I was sitting at the table with Robert on my left, Bill across from me. (Honestly, I think I remember almost everything about that night; Robert was wearing a gorgeously blue button down shirt.) After the first couple of sips of my drink, I calmed a bit.
Over dinner the talk was of nothing much. Music, movies and such. I recall as the meal was over, Barbara shifted her chair so she was facing Bill more than I. The waiter asked about dessert, Robert very deftly asked him to check back with us in a few minutes. It was then Barbara explained, "Robert went over to a bakery today and got a really nice pie. How would you like to come over and have a piece?" Bill looked at me, I looked at him, I sort of stammered, "Sure. Sounds good."
And then we were following them for a couple of miles until we reached their home. They took us into the den, Robert asked, "Dessert now, or maybe later?"
Bill answered, "Oh, whatever you guys think." Instead, we were offered another drink, Robert made them in the kitchen and brought them to us.
I don't know what I was expecting, really. I was certainly willing to go along with about anything, when I held his hand Bill had sweaty palms. We sat on couches, couples across from each other, and I asked Barbara if she had any good recipes for pork. Pork! Why the hell I did that, I'll never know. She answered kindly, we went on to another subject.
Almost an hour later, we were still yakking about something, maybe Bill was a big Star Wars fan, anything except Topic One. It was on my mind, of course. Now and again I'd catch Robert gazing at me. I'd worn a short dress with a bit of cleavage, when he'd look at my legs or between my breasts, my body responded. I wondered what Robert's arms would be like if he ever got around to holding me. We'd link eyes every once in awhile, I wondered if he could sense my longing.
And Barbara seemed as if she was opening herself up to Bill. She'd worn a jacket to dinner, sometime during the talk about the Roman Invasion of Gaul or something she'd slipped it off to reveal a thin sleeveless blouse, and it was clear she wasn't wearing a bra. But my husband droned on about where he went to camp when he was a boy scout. And, to my surprise, Barbara would encourage him to reveal more about a science fiction book.
About the time when I thought I was three shakes from a scream, Robert suggested maybe it was time for pie. "I'll go get it, honey." Then he turned to me and said, "Lynda, I'm gonna need help to carry all the plates in. Would you mind?"
