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 I confess that my mood was pensive on the trip back to Tulsa.  Larry drove
the RV while my husband pretended to navigate.  Taylor, Dawn and I were
relegated to the rear for the six hour drive.  I looked across the fields
we passed, seeing nothing remarkable as I ruminated over the past several
days.  My friends had a roaring game of rummy going.  I resisted their
initial attempts to include me.  I needed to think.
   Prior to our mini-orgy in the Elliot manse, Stephen had remarked that my
attitudes certainly had changed.  If I was honest, I'd have to admit my
entire world view had been adjusted in the space of six days.  I had been
the one who saw sex as the special reserve between two partners.  Anything
else was despicable, at least, and more probably a depraved breach of
trust. Since Friday, however, I had been intimate with four different men
not my husband.  Worse, I thought, I had observed my husband copulating
with three other women, two of whom, the stunning Taylor and astonishingly
sensuous Belinda, would have previously brought forth virulent fits of
jealousy.  Yet, I was remarkably at ease with the situation.  In fact, I
considered all of my husband's partners my friends.
   I looked at Dawn as she sat regarding her hand at cards.  Dear Dawn. 
She was earthy, sometimes crass, open and free of any guile.  She helped
launch me on this path of discovery.  I wondered if she had any sense of
regret or wonder at the several turns things had taken to create our
current situation.  Not Dawn, I decided.  She simply accepted things as
they were, and would look forward to future events with her trademark
openness and enthusiasm.
   Enthusiasm.  That seemed to be the hallmark word for me over the past
several days.  The enchanting Dan had used that word in defining our sexual
activities.  Dawn, also, had attached that characterization to me.  I was
not just a slut.  I was an enthusiastic slut.
   But, the question tugged at me.  Was I truly a slut?  My definition of
that term had always been someone who would bed anybody in any situation. I
didn't feel that I fit that description.  I had always chosen my partners,
Larry, Jeremy, Charlie Elliot and his son, Dan.  I had been selective.  I
wasn't running the streets looking to get fucked by any and all available
males.  As each was presented to me, I chose to bed them.  Each was
attractive in his own way.  A slut wouldn't be so selective.
   What was the point of that internal argument?  The truth was I didn't
want my husband to perceive me in that way.  We had gone to Omaha to seduce
his customer, Charlie, in the hopes of landing a big contract.  That was a
lie.  I looked at Dawn, once again the instigator of bad behavior, the one
who suggested the trip and seduction.  We'd done it purely for the fun of
it.  Charlie Elliot was going to sign the contract anyway.  In fact,
Stephen told us he'd signed it before we'd even showed up for dinner. 
Charlie didn't know he was going to be set upon by three determined females
looking for one more sexual experience.  That's why he'd brought his wife
to dinner.  We'd been fortunate that their personal situation mirrored our
intentions and permitted the glorious evening's activities and the
resultant arrangements for future visits by all concerned.
   I ventured an interruption to the card game.  "How long do you think it
will be until Charlie and Belinda visit?" I asked my friends.
   "Couple, maybe three weeks," Dawn said.
   "I'd say a month or two," Taylor offered, nodding in agreement.
   I considered the time span.  "What will we do?" I asked them.
   Dawn looked at me strangely.  "I'll fuck him.  I liked fucking him."
   Taylor laughed lightly at our friend's straightforward manner.  "I'll
bring Jeremy for Belinda.  She'll like him.  He'll remind her of Dan. 
Then, why I guess I'll do the same as Dawn said."
   "You having second thoughts about inviting them down, Sweetie?" Dawn
asked me.
   "No, no.  Nothing like that.  Just wondering," I answered.
   My thoughts, however, had wandered onto a different plane.  What would
we three do until the visit?  Would it be enough?  Would I yearn for more?
What would I do?
   You're an idiot, I though to myself.  You wait.  Delay the
gratification. Enjoy the friends you have, Larry, Dawn, Jeremy and Taylor.
Make love with your husband.
   "I'm an idiot," I said aloud.
   "No, you're not," Taylor offered.
   "No, she is," Dawn sniffed.  "I'd just like to know what brought about
that revelation."
   "I was just thinking how boring things are going to be, you know,
without them around."
   "See?" Dawn shot at Taylor.  "She is an idiot.  That's why I love her.
She's worried things will get boring."
   "Stop it," Taylor defended me to Dawn.  "She's just trying to get her
mind wrapped around everything."
   "Crap!" Dawn said.  She twisted her head toward me.  "You going to stop
screwing Larry and Jeremy?"
   I shrugged.  "I wasn't thinking about that."
   "Well, that's what we're going to do," Dawn snapped, "just like before.
We'll be fine.  When they show up, we'll invite `em into the party.  And,
if you think you'll be bored, we'll find some way to spice things up.  Come
live with Larry for a week.  Play newlyweds or something.  Hell, I bet Dan
shows up next weekend.  We'll just pass him around like a good recipe.  I
promise you won't get bored."
   "I know," I admitted.  "I was being an idiot."
   "It's all right, you know," Taylor said.  "You just roll with the flow.
You get laid when you can.  And, when you can't, you've got a marvelous
husband.  I'm sure he'll be more than willing to fill your needs."
   "Of course," I said.  "You guys are terrific."
   The next morning I was sitting at the table in the breakfast nook with a
steaming mug of coffee when Stephen made it into the kitchen.  I wore a
kimono style wrap, white, untied.  We'd spent the night in our own bed,
touching, but without sex.  We were both exhausted from the last five days
of marathon fucking.  Stephen was naked.
   "Coffee's fresh," I told him.  He grunted, poured himself a mug and sat
with me at the table.
   "You look stunning," he said.  "Feeling better?"
   "Yeah," I nodded.  "Last night was nice.  I like snuggling with you."
   "It was nice," he agreed, sipping at his brew.
   "I'm doing a load of laundry.  It's mostly towels and stuff.  You got
anything?"
   "Just what we took to Omaha.  We haven't used much around here the last
few days."
   It caused a giggle to escape my lips.
   "Do we need to have another talk?" he asked.
   "It couldn't hurt," I replied.  "You're my best friend.  I like talking
with you."
   "So, you're not mad about anything from the last few days?"
   "No, baby.  Not mad.  It's been wild, a little bit over the top, maybe.
I got a little jealous when you were making love to Belinda.  That went
away when Dan and I got it on together." I shrugged, "This is new for me.
I've always been and one man woman."
   "You know what I thing?" he asked.  "I think you still are.  I think you
love me and you know that I'm simply crazy about you.  We fit.  You know
what I mean?  We fit together so perfectly.  We're partners."
   "I like that," I said.  "Partners.  Everything else is, what?  A
diversion?"
   Stephen leaned toward me.  "That's it," he said.  "Entertainment." He
kissed me lightly.
   "When we were coming back I asked the girls what we were going to do
from now on.  We sort of hit a high point this weekend.  I'm wondering if
there's going to be a big letdown."
   Stephen shrugged.  "Maybe, somewhat."
   "Would you be disappointed if it went back to being just you and me?" I
asked him.
   Stephen looked at me and smiled for a few seconds.  "Look, I'd be lying
if I said I didn't enjoy the last couple of days.  Did you know you make
wonderful sounds when you're having sex?  I really loved hearing those
sounds, all those moans and whimpers.  Every time I heard one of them it
made me aware that you were having a good time and that made me feel really
good about what was going on.  So, yes.  I'd miss that.  But, if, for some
reason, you decided that you don't want to have fun like that anymore, I'd
be okay with it.  I'm not sure I'd understand it, but I'll go along with
it, if that's what you want."
   "What about Dawn and Taylor and Belinda?"
   "What about them?"
   "Wouldn't you miss having sex with them?"
   "Sure.  But, you know, at the root of that, they're just a means to an
end."
   I looked at him in question, encouraging him to expand.
   "As much fun as it was with them, they provided something more than
gratification for me.  They provided partners for you."
   "So they only reason you screwed them is so I could have sex with their
husbands?  I chided him.
   He shrugged again, smiling broadly.  "It's a really big part of it, Ter.
I'm being really honest, here.  It's all fun, but my focus is squarely on
you.  I want you to have fun, to enjoy your life, to feel excited,
exhilarated, and free to do what makes you happy.  If I get to have some
fun along the way, that's okay, too.  The fact is that I'm going to be
okay, no matter what, as long as you love me.  My heart's desire is that
you are more than okay.  I want you deliriously happy."
   "I don't want to wreck this," I told him.  "I am happy.  But, I don't
want anything to ruin our partnership."
   "The only way I see that happening is if you fall in love with somebody
else.  As long as we keep the `we' of you and me the highest priority I
think we'll be fine.
   "Now it's your turn.  Tell me what you think," he asked.
   "There's a little trepidation," I smiled at him.  "I was afraid you were
going to fall in love, especially with Belinda.  She's so elegant."
   Stephen acknowledged, "That she is.  But, she's not my Terri.  You're
the one I love.  I like the others, Dawn, Taylor and Belinda.  The sex is
great.  But you're my love.  You're my partner."
   "I wonder if they're having this same sort of talk," I said.
   "Don't know," Stephen answered.  "Don't really care.  You're the only
one I really care about.  So, what do you think?"
   "I think I've got a perfect situation," I said.  "I've got the security
of being married to the sweetest man ever.  And, I've got a wonderful sex
life of warm, comfortable sex with my husband and the excitement of the
variety with close friends and the occasional new friend.  Are we going to
be able to survive like this?"
   "I don't see why not," Stephen told me, "as long as we agree to be
honest and straight-forward with one another and put the `we' first."
   "This whole thing has changed me, you know," I told him.
   "What do you mean?"
   I took a deep breath and tried to organize my thoughts.  "I used to
think about sex with you a couple of times a week, we'd connect and it
would be loving and tender, not that we didn't have our occasional
instances of a jungle fuck," I said.  "Since last week, though, I've
thought of little else.  Sex is on my mind constantly.  I liked Larry
fucking me.  Jeremy was very enjoyable.  The thing with Charlie is what
made me realize I had changed."
   "How's that," my husband asked.
   "Did you ever have a woman come to you and whisper, `I'm going to fuck
you tonight,' Stephen?"
   "Can't say that I have."
   "Well, that's what I was thinking all night before we went back to
Charlie's house.  I would look at him and think to myself, I'm going to
fuck you.  There was a little hitch in that when I found out Belinda was
there and was Charlie's wife.  But, as soon as it became clear that she was
intent on having you and that Charlie was free, that same sensation rushed
back into my head."
   "And, you did, didn't you?"
   "I did.  But, I never had a thought like that before.
   "Then, there was Daniel," I continued.
   "What about Daniel?" my husband asked.
   "It was almost a matter of course," I said.  "We were having a really
nice conversation, and after Belinda told him to strip, we were both there
naked.  The thing with Daniel was like a continuation of that conversation.
We just moved from talking into fucking.  In fact, I thought we might have
even continued talking together while we were fucking."
   "Okay," Stephen said, slowly.
   "The point is, what started with Larry, Dawn, and you and me has grown
exponentially.  I liked fucking Larry.  The two nights we spent in the
guest bedroom were great.  But, now I want more.  I want to spend the night
with Jeremy, just to see what that's like.  And, with Charlie and Daniel,
too."
   "If that's what you want, Ter," Stephen said, "I'm sure we could arrange
it."
   "And you're not worried?"
   "Should I be?"
   "I don't know."
   "Would you be worried if the situation was reversed?  Suppose I said I
wanted to spend a night with Belinda and you would have Charlie or Daniel
at your disposal.  Would you be worried?"
   "I don't know.  No, I don't think so.  But, I know how I feel about you.
When you're through with her, I'm here for you.  Is that the way you feel?"
   Stephen shrugged.  "That's one way to put it.  It might be more accurate
to say that I know for certain that you love me.  Once you've had your fun
with any of them, I know you're coming back to me.  It's like dancing."
   "How so?"
   "Well, you know I hate to dance, right?"
   "Yes." Stephen really hated dancing.  He felt awkward and uneasy.  He'd
never learned and had no interest in it.  We'd sway to soft music, but fast
dancing, the kind I loved, was an anathema to him.
   "So, I let you dance whenever and with whomever you please, don't I?"
   "That's so different," I protested.
   "No, it's not.  When you're done, you come back to me, a little
breathless, maybe, tired, exhilarated and completely happy.  But, you come
back to me."
   I shook my head.  "Nope.  This is different."
   "How is it different?"
   "Because," I said, searching for the right words, then throwing up my
hands in frustration.  "Because I'm fucking them!"
   "Lemme see," Stephen said, looking at my head from ear to ear, searching
my body from top to bottom.  "No noticeable change that I can see.  You've
been fucking, as you so indelicately put it, for the past four or five
days. Yet, here you are, still gorgeous, still in love with me, unchanged
except for the momentary melancholy of self-inflicted guilt.  Hell, I don't
even see evidence of a hickey or love bite, which would, with time,
disappear anyway."
   I love Stephen because he always had the knack of making me laugh.  Once
again, he succeeded.
   "So, my Prince Charming," I chided him, "you really don't care that I've
been fucking like a bunny for the past few days?"
   "And what, pray tell, my sweet Rapunzel, have I been doing for the same
period as you?"
   "So you don't care who I fuck?"
   "Nay, nay!" he exclaimed.  "I care very much.  Your partner must be of
quality breeding, good manners, and of your choosing.  No street tramp or
vile vagrant for my Princess."
   We laughed together.
   "Seriously, Ter," Stephen continued, "You get to choose.  So far, you've
done a sterling job, I think.  We've got some great new friends.  What
matters most is that we, you and I, have that essential element of our love
that belongs to us and to nobody else.  The rest is just dancing!"
   There was a long period of silence.  I sipped my mug, and discovered
cold dregs.  I rose to pour myself another cup, gestured toward Stephen
with the pot, and refilled his mug, as well.
   "I could teach you," I offered.
   "What?  To dance?  Forget it!  Hell, if I'll share your body with Larry,
Charlie and whomever, I'm damned sure not going through the misery of
learning to do something I hate just so you won't dance with anybody else.
No, Baby.  You have your fun.  I'd rather drive spikes in my eyes than
flail around out in public like that."
   "It's a good thing you're good in bed," I told him.  "I'd hate it if you
sat out all that, too."
   "Well, as a matter of fact," he said, leaning back in his chair, licking
his thumb and flicking it across the head of his naked cock as if
extinguishing a burning ember, "I haven't had any complaints in the last
few days."
   I dropped to one knee next to him.  "Here," I said, "let me see that
thing." I picked up his member with two fingers and pretended to examine it
closely.
   "What are you looking for?" he asked.
   "Evidence," I retorted.  "Dawn's come in the crevices, or a blonde hair
from Taylor lodged among the pubes, or, even worse, one of Belinda's red
curls hiding in here somewhere." I lifted it upright and planted a long,
loving kiss on the bottom ridge of his flesh.
   "Careful, now," Stephen warned.  "That kind of activity leads to
trouble."
   "Hey, fella," I snapped, "this hunk of meat belongs to me.  The girls
can use it as they like.  But, in the end, this," I tugged at it gently,
"is mine."
   I wasn't the only one changed by our weekend experience.  Stephen and I
became like newlyweds.  We were making love every night, most mornings, and
my husband would come home for the occasional nooner.  This went on for
weeks.  He'd call and ask if I had room for him in my busy schedule.  I
always did.  Finally, I got an explanation.
   "What's going on with us?" I demanded.  "It's not that I'm complaining,
but the usual twice a week boff has turned into a virtual marathon.  You're
leaving work at least three or four days a week to get laid at lunch. 
What's the deal?"
   "Truth is," Stephen started, "since the big weekend and the Omaha trip,
I can't seem to get enough.  Some days I'll just be sitting in my office
and a vision of you with Charlie or Jeremy will flash through my head. 
It's an instant hard-on.  Or, I'll remember how hot you looked on that sofa
with Daniel and, whew!  I just want to be inside you.
   "You're smoking hot, Ter.  I'd let myself forget that.  Our weekend
reminded me.  That's all.  Why?  Is there a problem?"
   "No, you goof," I laughed.  "We had settled into kind of a routine and
this is really different from that.  I was just wondering.  I love this,
though.  Of all the cocks I've had inside me, yours is the one I love the
best."
   "Oh, my word!  You're a craven bitch, Terri.  Look what you've done to
me!"
   Stephen pointed at his crotch where I saw he was growing firm again.
   "What did I do?" I kidded him.
   "'Of all the cocks,' you said, bringing to my mind the four days of
watching you with four different men.  Four days of seeing you steam with
passion, moaning and crying out with each orgasm.  I've got to have you. 
I've got to have you now!"
   I took my husband by the hand and led him to the family room.  I doffed
my shorts and panties and pulled my tank top over my head.  I bent forward
over the arm of our couch.
   "Come on," I told him.  "Rip yourself off a piece of ass.  I'm ready. 
Fuck me like the slut I am.  I love being your slut."
   It was a pure, hard, jungle fuck.  Stephen kept his hands on my waist,
pulling me onto his steely cock.  Every thought and memory vanished from my
head as I surrendered to my lover, feeling him plunge into my depths over
and over again.  In this position, the head of his cock would blast across
my g-spot on each thrust, causing me to cry out as the exquisite agony shot
electric shocks through my clit and spread throughout my lower belly.  My
muscles clamped on him, yet he hurled through the barrier, forcing his cock
deep within me time after time.
   "Oh, yes!" I hissed, a building, hot sensation growing just above my
knees.  The burning spread up through my thighs.  "You fuck me," I
commanded him.  "Fuck your slut wife," I ordered, my body climbing the hill
toward climax.  Stephen started to groan.  "You can't stop me now!" I
shouted.  "I'm coming!  Squirt your load in me!"
   Stephen grunted and stopped his thrusting motion, his cock embedded in
my depths.  I felt the hot splash inside me as I wailed my own completion.
Stephen pulled back and drove himself forward with the force of a
pile-driver.  This squirt seemed to coat my innards with molten chocolate,
so thick and warm was it.  Then he pulled nearly out and thrust to the hilt
once again, another stream of warm come spurting into me.  I clamped my
muscles on him, pulling and milking for every last droplet of his pearly
essence.
   I could feel the sweat rise on the back of my legs and the small of my
back.  I tossed my hair to the side off my neck as the warmth spread toward
the top of my head.
   Stephen thrust into me one more time.  "I love when you do that," he
growled.
   In a voice robbed of breath, I managed to as what the `what' was.
   "Toss your hair," he panted, "like that.  You're so damned sexy when you
do that."
   "Sexier than when I'm fucking Larry, or Jeremy, or Charlie or Daniel?"
   Stephen groaned.  "Pretty close," he gasped, still catching his breath.
"Watching you fuck is the sexiest thing I've ever seen.  The hair toss is a
more personal thing because you do it after fucking me."
   We did settle into a new routine.  Dawn was, of course, the instigator.
Every couple of months she'd call around and set up what she called a house
party.  We'd spend two or three days naked with Taylor, Jeremy, Dawn and
Larry.  Belinda would show up with either Daniel or Charlie in tow.  We'd
laze about by the pool if it was warm enough, or inside watching videos,
movies or sports during the winter.  We made an annual pilgrimage to Omaha,
get gussied up properly, then go back to Charlie and Belinda's place for
our fun-fest.  Dawn would holler, "Road trip!" and contact Belinda to make
the arrangements.  We'd spend a day or two with Charlie, Daniel and
Belinda, then head back to Tulsa.  Usually, that would mark the end of our
swapping out for a couple of months.
   I found out from Dawn and Taylor that their spouses were a lot like
Stephen after these road trips.  They were all insatiable.  That would last
for a couple of months and then the call would come from Dawn for another
house party.
   There are horror stories out there about how this lifestyle ruins
marriages, causes break-ups and destroys relationships.  It didn't happen
with us.  I attribute that to the casual spirit of our extra-marital
couplings and the stable nature of our relationships.  Everybody involved
seemed aware that the sex was just for fun.  We all came to love one
another, but as wonderful friends.  The life-mate relationships were
reserved for our individual spouses.
   Our numbers evened out when Daniel married the magnificent Sophia.  She
was exotic and incredibly sensual with flowing dark hair and flashing blue
eyes.  Daniel introduced us all as family when he brought her to one of
Dawn's house parties.  After Dawn and Belinda, totally nude, explained that
these activities were part of our "family ritual" to maintain sexual
diversion and preclude wandering spouses, Sophia claimed her future
father-in-law, Charlie, as her first partner.
   All of us got to do some traveling.  Business trips were not unusual for
the men in our group.  Eventually, the women would cut cards to see who
would accompany the traveling male in the group.  I spent a week on the
West Coast with Jeremy.  I'd shop and tour while he attended his meetings
and seminars.  At night, we would fuck like newlyweds on honeymoon.  I
still remember the chill of excitement that ran through me when Jeremy
announced his trip to the group and my loving, creative and generous
husband simply said to Jeremy, "Take my wife, please."
   
  
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