Grass Stains

by LuvsItWet

Copyright© 2010

My young wife's first excursion outside the limits of our marriage happened with my full knowledge and encouragement. It was wild, it was exciting. We were scared to death but too hot to care. The risk to a young career naval officer and his darling wife was immense. If we were discovered in our irresistably immoral private adventures we would be ruined. The danger was part of the thrill.

It was the mid 70's and we had been toying with the "wife swapping" idea for a year or two. Every since we'd been approached by another couple to just simply trade wives for the night. Shocked, shocked I say. We shyly demurred but the seed of recreational infidelity had been planted. It germinated and sprouted in our pillow talk over the next several months. Then on a business trip to New York City, I picked up a couple of issues of the popular "swinger magazines" filling one shelf of a sleazy store in the Times Square area. "Select" and "Choice", I think were their titles. That was the major medium for meeting others with similar urges before the internet.

We pored over the ads from others traveling ahead of us on the path to this exciting ruination. They didn't seem to be guilt-ridden sinners or hell bent hedonists. They looked just like us but wearing a lot less clothes and obviously having a lot more fun.

We carefully crafted a brief ad, twenty five words or less. Chose an anonymous picture of Karen, showing all her best parts-and she has some really good best parts-but with her face descretely turned away. Pictures were the hard part, we didn't want pictures that would pass before the eyes of the high school girl working part-time at PhotoMat. Polaroid was our saviour.

We fucked like bunnies at every step of the way. Read some ads-fuck. Take some pictures-fuck. Write some ad copy-fuck. Pick out a picture-fuck. Who ever said "getting there is half the fun" doesn't know the half of it. We finally went public. Once we dropped that envelope in the mail slot at the post office, we were in for a penny. The pound would take weeks of sweaty-palmed waiting. No IM or e-mails in those days. Sin took time. We spent the time fucking.

In all our talk, we were hoping to meet another couple about our age, and like us, just starting into the swinging lifestyle. Someone with whom we could be genuine friends and hopefully more. We had considered all our friends and had even made some tentative moves with two or three of the couples we socialized with. We didn't see much chance in that crowd.

One of the husbands, Jerry, had tried a couple of times to get into Karen's pants. She had even submitted to some really heavy petting with him at a party during the time we were putting our swinging ad together. She quickly reported back to me and I tried to cut Jerry's wife Sheila out of the herd of wives collected in the kitchen of the house party we were attending that night. Sheila was a very attractive little blond and, if we were going to trade wives, I'd trade for her any day. No dice. She was not even slightly interested.

Later that night, in bed, Karen told me that she would have eagerly fucked Jerry's brains out but didn't want to do anything that would leave me out. I related my dry run on Sheila and Karen was not at all surprised. They were casual friends and the sense was that Sheila was very up-tight. Maybe even frigid. I confirmed to Karen for the umteenth time that if she had the chance to get something going with a guy on her own, it was alright with me. Not a jealous bone in my body.

Our entry into extra marital sex got an unexpected start at a formal military dinner and dance the Saturday night after we had sent our salacious ad in to the magazine. Dinner dress white and long gowns. The men were all handsome in their starched collared uniforms. Gold buttons and braid complementing the dime sized dinner medals hanging on colorful ribbons. The women were all beautiful. Karen was the most beautiful woman there. Her pale cream dress set off her lustrous dark hair and late summer tan. Cleavage? My girl had the Grand Canyon of all cleavage yawning below the tiny diamond pendant I had given her for the occasion.

The dinner over, brandy and cigars dutifully enjoyed, the dancing began. Karen was in great demand as a dance partner so she hadn't disappeared more than a couple of minutes when I noticed. About five minutes later she appeared in the open french doors leading to the dimly lit veranda. Making a bee line to me she dragged me onto the dance floor.

"That Jerry!" She said in apparent exasperation. "He just won't leave me alone."

"I should have known. Want me to say something to him?"

"Huh uh. I like it. He just kissed me."

Karen had had at least two glasses of wine with dinner and I had stood in line at the bar to get her two cocktails since the dancing had started. I didn't how many drinks her admirers had been able to slip to her. We were having fun.

A couple hours later the lights had dimmed. The music had gotten louder. The large room was smokey and warm. Karen was missing again. I saw her briefly on the veranda. Then she was missing again.

Karen came up to me from behind. "Let's dance." She said.

On the floor, she snuggled tightly into my arms. She was damp from the heat and the exertion of all the fast dancing she had been doing. I suspected other sources of her heat.

Karen was quiet for a minute then looked up at me with an odd smile. Her eyes didn't quite focus. My gorgeous little wife had maybe had one too many.

"Jerry wants to take me for a walk on the golf course."

"It's a beautiful night."

"I know."

"It'll be dark out there."

"I know."

There it was. My wife had just asked me for my permission to let another man fuck her. And I had granted that permission. There was no misunderstanding between us.

The music ended and I led Karen back to our table. She stood up on tiptoe and kissed me.

"Thank you." She said quietly as she turned toward the veranda again.

"Karen." I called and she turned back to me.

Reaching under my starched white blouse, I retrieved the large neatly folded linen handkerchef from its place tucked in my white web belt.

"You may need this." I said as I descretely slipped it into her hand.

She grinned, pecked me again, and disappeared into the crowd.

Karen was gone a long time this time. My attention went from the dancers to the veranda door to Jerry's wife Sheila. I even danced with her twice. She was as hard as a board. Toned or tension, I couldn't tell. I noticed her checking the door also. Not my problem. Jerry's.

Almost an hour later, after midnight and the party starting to break up, Karen suddenly appeared next to me. I had missed her grand re-entry.

"Dance with me." She demanded.

On the floor, Karen pulled me in tight against her for a few seconds then pulling my head down with the hand resting behind my neck, she whispered in my ear.

"Your hanky's in my panties."

I squeezed her to me and gave her a big sloppy kiss. I didn't care who saw. This was my freshly fucked wife and I loved her.

"Let's get out of here." I said as I broke away and started off the floor with her in tow.

As we went through the main lobby to the exit, I ducked into the cloak room for my hat and Karen's wrap. When I caught up with her she was saying goodnight to other friends of ours and had her back to me for the first time since her walk with Jerry.

Across the top of the back and at the top of the skirt of Karen's floor length, cream colored ball gown were two huge, bright green grass stains. It could not be mistaken by anyone where my darling wife had spent part of her evening. I quickly stepped up behind her and covered the evidence by draping the long shawl over her shoulders.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, my attention was drawn to a commotion at the doors to the ballroom. A grim faced Sheila was dragging Jerry into the lobby area heading to the cloak room. The matching deep green stains on the knees of his dress white cotton trousers hadn't went unnoticed by his tight-assed wife.

I almost rudely pushed Karen out through the main entry to the dark parking lot. In the car, I told Karen about the condition of her dress and Jerry's uniform. We didn't know whether to crack up in laughter or give in to the fear that our game had gotten out of hand. I parked on a quiet, un-lit side street just off the base and fucked my wife in the back seat. She was soaking wet and slippery. I asked her to ride the rest of the way home with her bare butt on the vinyl seat so I could save the wet hanky and panties as souveniers of her first adventure.

That wasn't quite the end of the matter, however.

I was called into the commanding officer's office later the next week. I thought for sure my career was over. I was stunned by the cordial greeting and friendly tone of the conversation. The four striper sitting across the huge polished desk from me scared the hell out of me, but he was unusually relaxed. After a few minutes of pleasantries in which he more than once complimented me on my choice of such an attractive wife, he handed my a wrapped package from a sideboard.

"Years ago some friends gave one of these to my wife and we'd like for Karen to have one."

I was soon dismissed and felt immense relief that I didn't leave that office in chains.

When I got home that afternoon and turned the captain's gift over to Karen, she was equally mystified. She had secretly expected the worst.

Inside the gift wrapping and the nice box was a cylinder of Navy blue corderoy about eight inches in diameter and eighteen inches long. A round Navy embroidered seal was sewn into each end and a zipper ran down the length of one side. Inside the corderoy cover was a Navy blue, soft woolen blanket. Folded and rolled neatly. An unaddressed formal envelope was tucked in the first fold. The card inside read:

Karen, You should keep this blanket in your car for use when taking those long walks in the moonlight. Mine has saved me a fortune in drycleaning bills over the years. You are a lucky woman to have an understanding husband. We are looking forward to seeing you soon.

The card was signed by the very classy wife of a man who has, in recent years, gained some measure of world fame.

We didn't need to respond to the several queries we received to the ad we had placed in the swingers magazine.

We had by then, started being invited to some very interesting house parties and just didn't have the time.

The End

If you enjoyed the story, drop me a line.  luvsitwet_99@yahoo.com