Drawn into a Sexual Web

Sitting in front of the TV, watching the end of an early season college football game while sipping on my third beer, the sound of the garage door opening suddenly grabbed my attention. It meant my pretty wife Emily was returning from dinner with her best friend Chloe, who had called earlier practically begging my wife to meet her. I sensed something was up and was now eager to hear the news.

The sound of Emily's shoes on the hardwood floor signaled her approach, and soon she appeared with a look on her face that made it clear she had been drinking. There was a pause as we looked at each other before I finally spoke.

"How was dinner?" I asked.

"Let me get a drink first," she declared and spun around.

Emily is normally not a heavy drinker, so taking another in her current state portended the significance of the meeting. It took a few minutes for her to return, but when she did, I prodded once more.

"Well?" I asked.

"Chloe is upset about something," she replied, and it seemed like she wanted to act like the little girl with a secret.

"What's wrong?" I responded, playing along.

"I told her I wouldn't tell anyone," she stated.

"Okay, well that's fine," I said and turned my attention back to the TV.

Emily is not the gossipy type, and although I sensed she was eager to tell me about her friend's situation, I knew it was best not to push. Several minutes went by as we watched the program before she spoke.

"David wants to...I mean he's pushing really...for them to uhhh... try swinging," she stammered.

"Swinging? What do you mean?" I asked, as my mind instantly filled with a vision of people square dancing. It took a second or two for the reality to hit, and when it did, I declared in a shocked voice, "What the hell? You are joking!"

Since Emily and Chloe were very close, I knew her husband from frequent social interactions. Other than occasionally being a bit loud and boisterous, he always struck me as a normal, conservative college educated guy. Certainly, I had never seen any signs of sexual deviance, and in fact, he always seemed to be very respectful, almost doting, towards his wife.

"I'm not joking," Emily said, staring at me with a judgmental expression as if I was equally guilty simply by being male.

"Well, start from the beginning and tell me the whole story," I said while pulling myself up on the sofa.

For the next few minutes, my wife described meeting her friend for dinner, drinking lots of wine, and hearing it all. She explained that David had been dropping hints for some time that Chloe would just laugh off, but recently he had become more pointed, and last night in bed had bluntly told her it was something he wanted to try. He went on to declare that if she loved him, she would support the decision. Of course, that had led to an argument, then tears, followed by more arguing that had left her a wreck. She tried to keep it as just a husband-and-wife thing, but it ate on her all day and that made her call my wife.

"I'm not sure bullying would have been the approach I would have used," I said when my wife finished, which brought a strange look.

"How can a man...a husband...let his wife...do it...be with someone else?" she asked.

"I don't know honey. It's not something I've thought about. I guess if you've been together a long time and things are getting dull, but they've only been married three years," I answered.

"Yes..." she replied slowly while analyzing my words.

Emily was Chloe's Matron of Honor at her wedding, which occurred eight months after ours, and likewise, Chloe had been my wife's Maid of Honor. The two had been sorority sisters in the same pledge class and had hit it off instantly. Since they had ended up in the same city after graduation, they had been able to maintain their friendship, and I saw Chloe at least every other week. It wasn't something I minded, as, like my wife, she is very attractive and quite fun. Both Emily and Chloe are slender and tallish, with the main differences between them being hair color and breast size. My wife is raven-haired while her friend is a blonde, and Chloe is a full C-cup while Emily is a B. Since neither woman had yet become pregnant, they still had firm bodies.

"Is she going to?" I asked, finally acknowledging the huge elephant in the room.

"Of course not, and I told her that David was wrong and being a total ass," she replied, flashing some anger.

"You know...uh...it might mean that he's having an affair or something," I offered slowly, knowing it was dangerous ground.

"I know..." she said, then after a look at her feet added, "I think it's a possibility, but I didn't say anything to Chloe."

"What's she going to do? I asked.

"Tell him NO WAY!" she quickly responded.

"Well, you're likely going to get more calls, so sweetie you need to do what you can to help Chloe. This is serious stuff and she's going to need you," I said.

I knew she was going to do what she needed for her friend whether I acknowledged it or not, but I thought I could get some good guy points by making the offer, and the look in her eyes after I finished let me know I had made the right decision. Indeed, it was just after lunch the next day when Emily received the call from Chloe, and an hour later she was knocking on our front door. Knowing I would be in the way, I kissed her on the cheek and then left so they could talk in private. I ran errands for a few hours and then drove home, but when I spotted Chloe's car still in the driveway, I kept going and ended up at a sports bar. There, I sent a text to my wife asking her to let me know when her friend left, and it wasn't until almost seven that I got the all-clear. Arriving home, the two empty Chardonnay bottles on the counter and my wife's red eyes informed me of her condition.

"Well...tell me about it," I said after grabbing a beer from the fridge and moving to the living room, with Emily right behind.

"He's being a fucking prick!" my wife announced, using language that was exceedingly rare for her.

"Okay...like what? What happened?" I asked, hoping for a better description.

"She told him no and he started laying this huge guilt trip on her telling her she didn't support him and she was too goody-goody," she replied, slurring her words slightly.

"Why doesn't she just ignore him? I'm pretty sure he loves her...a lot...so tell her to just laugh it off," I suggested.

"She tries but he is being forceful and you know she can't stand confrontation. Everything must be resolved with her...it's how she's made up," she answered.

"What's she going to do?" I asked.

"Keep talking to him," she replied, and although it sounded inadequate, I couldn't think of a better approach.

It wasn't long before Emily disappeared, and after a bit I went looking for her, finding her passed out on our bed. I spent a few minutes getting her out of her clothes and then put her under the covers before returning to the TV. Just past midnight, I joined her and pulled her nude body against mine.

"Are you awake?" I whispered when I felt her butt wiggle slightly.

"Mmmm...barely," she replied.

My hands started to slowly roam her body, as they often did when we were naked together, and over the next few minutes, I could tell she was becoming aroused.

"Do you want to make love?" I asked softly.

"Do you?" she replied quickly.

"Mmmm...hmmm..." I moaned into her ear, as my hand drifted lower.

Emily was slightly wet when my fingers found her smooth slit, and after playing with her for a while, I moved my head under the sheets. She loves to receive oral sex, although she is less enthusiastic about giving it, so as my tongue teased her folds, she kicked at the covers so she could spread her legs wider.

"Oh...oh please darling..." she whined.

For some reason, I loved it when she called me darling. It seemed so old school and cultured, which for some reason pleased me. I worked slowly, moving around her entire mound before I felt she was at just the right level of excitement. Then, I focused on her clit, rapidly assaulting it with quick cat licks. It was a proven technique, and just like countless other times, it wasn't long before her writhing body and her soft mews of pleasure let me know she was on her way to an orgasm.

"Oh...oh...darling...oh...mmm...mmm..." she whimpered, as she pulled her legs back.

"Does it feel good?" I asked, breaking just for a moment, but her hands were quick to guide me back into place.

Less than a minute later, with my tongue smacking wetly against her tiny nub, she let go, "Ohhh...oh yes...uhhh...oh yes...mmmm...."

Knowing from experience that I could extend the orgasm by penetrating her, I lifted and pushed my erect dick into her ready pussy. My pace was deep and deliberate, and as expected, I was able to keep her on a plateau of pleasure for almost a minute before she finally started to come down. With her arms wrapped around my neck, and contented sounds coming from her, I could now concentrate on my pleasure. Emily's pussy is amazingly soft and usually quite warm which makes it difficult to last long, and soon I could feel the tingling sensation begin in my groin that signaled my imminent release.

"Nnnnn...ohhh...oh shit...shit...damn..." I grunted as the thick substance jetted from my body.

Even in the cool house, we were both damp with sweat, and we spent the next few minutes in each other's arms catching our breath. I could feel Emily's heart beating, which added to the feeling of intimacy, and I lingered on her before I finally dropped to her side.

"I love you," I whispered, which resulted in her pulling my arm more tightly around her.

Several minutes went by as we drifted towards sleep, so she startled me she suddenly spoke.

"Honey, have you ever thought about...you know...swapping?" she asked.

"Sweetie, I think I told you yesterday that I've never thought about it," I answered.

"Okay," she replied, but in a way that made me think there was still something on her mind.

For the next several weeks, Emily played the role of confidant and advisor for Chloe as her husband showed no sign of giving up on his decadent desires. Repeatedly, the young wife tried to explain rationally to her husband that she didn't share his interest, and that it would be bad for their marriage, but David remained obstinate. Slowly, I sensed things beginning to change as Emily started asking me questions about the mechanics of swinging encounters. As the uninvolved bystander, it seemed to me that Chloe must at least be considering her husband's demands if they were discussing these aspects.

"Emily, I don't know how it works. I would just be guessing," I told my wife after one of her questions, then added after a short pause, "Why? Is she considering it?"

"No...I mean...I guess after all the talk she's just trying to understand," my wife responded.

"Okay, well the only thing I could tell her would be to look it up on the internet," I said.

More time went by and things seemed to be getting less troublesome as Emily was no longer constantly counseling her friend. So, I was surprised when my wife brought up the subject of going to Dallas for the weekend with the couple.

"What's it all about Emily?" I asked, sensing there was more to the story than a casual weekend.

"Look...okay look..." she tried to start but stumbled, and then after a deep breath, she began again, "Chloe agreed to go to a club just to check it out and she wants us to go, too."

"What the hell? Emily, I don't want to go. It will be all weird and awkward, and they'll know we know about their weirdness," I protested.

"Please, darling," she asked, giving me her big-eyed pleading look.

"Emily this is freaky," I continued.

"I know it's odd, but we need to be there for Chloe," she begged.

Two days later, after leaving work early, we found ourselves seated on an airplane for the quick flight to Dallas. Chloe and David had taken a prior flight, so we were alone, which allowed me to continue to voice my reluctance, however, Emily was quickly dismissing any issue I raised. The plan was to check into the hotel, meet up for a nice dinner and then visit the club. A little after five, we were in our room at one of the better hotels in the city, having scored a good weekend rate, and while Emily primped, I headed down to the bar to wait. I told her to let David know where I was if he called, as I hoped to get a few minutes alone with him to provide my thoughts, which were mostly around wanting to be ready to leave at the first signs of strangeness.

A little over an hour later, with me now quite buzzed, my wife walked up looking fabulous, but by the expression on her face, I could tell something was wrong.

"What?" I asked.

"They left," she answered with a wince.

"Left? What do you mean?" I demanded.

"They went home. Chloe told his sister, who told his mother, and now he's in big trouble," she explained.

"Damn! He's not going to be very happy with her," I said.

"No...they're not speaking," she informed me.

"Well, hell. I don't know whether to be happy or mad," I said and started laughing, with Emily quickly joining in.

"Let's go to dinner," she stated and took my hand as I stood.

Our reservation was at a top-end steakhouse, and arriving late it took a few minutes to get our table, so we had a drink in the bar. We had a good laugh about the sequence of events that got us there, then enjoyed an excellent dinner accompanied by a nice bottle of Cabernet. By the time the check arrived, neither of us was feeling any pain, and soon we were in a taxi headed back to the hotel.

"Too bad they left. I actually wanted to see the place," I teased my wife.

"I know you did sweetie," she said with feigned concern while patting my arm.

"No, seriously. I did," I replied, still trying to provoke a rise.

"Well darling, let's swing by for a drink," she countered, and a grin spread across her face as she felt she had out maneuvered me.

There was silence in the cab for several seconds as I floundered for a rebuttal before I finally said, "That's not a bad idea. We can have a look and you can tell Chloe what it was like."

"Sure, let's go," she responded, and I knew she still felt I would back down.

"Do you have the address?" I asked after another short pause.

While giving me a strange look, she picked up her phone and after manipulating it read off the address. Seconds later, I had provided the new destination to our driver and we were off towards the club. It took fifteen minutes to get there, which we covered in silence, and upon arriving we found that the club was at the end of s strip shopping center. The rest of the property was standard retail, so at this hour the only cars in the parking lot were in front of the club. The East Asian taxi driver had a smirk on his face as I paid him, no doubt thinking that we were there for random sex.

It was just past ten when we entered, and after paying a $20 cover to a fortyish blonde woman that looked Emily over several times, we turned the corner and entered the main room that consisted of a bar, a seating area, and a dance floor. I guessed there were fifty people in attendance, and a DJ was playing techno music with a driving beat, while about a dozen or so danced. Several things struck me quickly as I looked around. First, it was much less seedy than I expected from a décor and furnishings perspective. Second, the clientele looked to be a bit older, with the average age late thirties or early forties. And finally, we were overdressed.

The women were wearing a mix of casual and club attire, with many showing significant cleavage or leg, which contrasted with my wife's knee-length, expensive cocktail dress. Similarly, my sports coat and dress slacks set me apart from the other men. I guided Emily to what looked to be a well-stocked bar, and we took stools in an empty spot.

"Well, no sex on the tables," I said to my wife after the bartender had delivered our drinks.

"I know...kind of dull," she responded sarcastically.

For the next twenty minutes, we sipped our cocktails and watched the dynamics of the room. While there was certainly more interaction amongst the people than you would see at a normal bar, we saw little that would indicate it was a crowd interested in sexual play.

"First time?" our bartender asked when he arrived with refills.

Ramon, as indicated by his nametag, appeared to be about our age and was in good shape, with well-developed biceps. He was swarthy looking, with a neatly groomed shadow beard, and he had his dark, longish hair pulled into a ponytail that revealed a pierced ear.

"Yeah, just having a look," I replied.

"Any experience in the lifestyle?" he followed, as I watched him glance at my wife.

"No," I answered, not completely certain what he meant.

"Well, this place is pretty laid back, although it sometimes gets wild a bit later. Nothing to worry about, though," he explained and then left.

Another fifteen minutes went by, and then a couple, approximately forty, arrived and took the seats next to us. The woman sat alongside me, and I saw that she was blonde and petite, and wore a tight skirt that extended to mid-thigh, with a blouse that highlighted her large enhanced breasts. It was obvious she had at one time been quite the looker, but her skin now had a mottled look, and from the smell on her clothes, I surmised it was from smoking. Still, she was reasonably attractive and had a lively manner with a big smile.

"Hi there," she said when we made eye contact.

"Hi," I replied, suddenly feeling nervous, and for some odd reason, a bit guilty.

"I'm Rhonda," she announced.

Although I had my back turned to my wife, I could feel her eyes on me as I introduced myself, then Emily, before learning her husband's name was Hal. After that, things became quiet once more and we went back to our drinks until Rhonda spoke up again.

"We haven't seen y'all here before," she stated.

"It's their first time," Ramon interjected, having walked up just as she spoke.

"Well don't be nervous. We like first timers!" she answered, and together the couple started to chuckle.

Following that, a conversation ensued that became more interactive as it became clear that Hal and Rhonda could speak on subjects other than sex. Even Emily became engaged and Ramon would occasionally join in when he wasn't preparing drinks. Along the way, we learned that they were club regulars, and got the sense that they were planning on meeting someone, but for the most part, the talk was about our likes and lives.

We had been at it for some time when a single man approached, and by the look on Rhonda's face, I knew he was the person they had been waiting for. I guessed that he was in his mid-twenties, slightly younger than us, standing about six-foot-tall and in good shape with dark, wavy hair and tanned skin, he exuded an air of confidence in his demeanor.

Rhonda and Hal. How is everyone?" he asked, first shaking the older man's hand before glancing at us.

Rhonda offered introductions, letting us know his name was Craig, and the conversation started once more, although now the woman was directing most of her attention toward him. Hal, for his part, didn't seem put off at all, rather, he let his wife lead the discussion, and seemed content to mostly observe.

"I can't believe we're watching this," Emily whispered in my ear.

I knew what she meant as right before us verbal, sexual foreplay was starting involving a married couple that was most likely going to end up with the wife having sex with the younger man. It seemed surreal in a way, but now that we knew them, it also felt strangely genuine. It wasn't long before Craig took Rhonda's hand and guided her to the dance floor.

"What do you think?" Hal asked, as soon as they were gone.