Swinging Twins

"I'm going to go a bit lower," he said. I strained to hear him. "Don't worry, this is just a lap dance." He smiled, and she nodded again. Randy adjusted his position, and was now rubbing his cock along Debbie's wet slit. Her head went back and her eyes rolled up. He stroked the length of his shaft up and down, up and down her opening. Her eyes were closed now, but his eyes watched her every movement. This guy was a professional.

Two more long strokes that obviously massaged her clit, then a third, and then Deb put her hand between them and pushed the top of his shaft downward. The next up stroke was into her pussy. She gasped and pulled on his butt cheeks.

I was watching my wife, my life partner, my bride, my Deb, being fucked by a cheap stripper with a huge dong, and I was so turned on I almost came on the spot. And at the same time I wanted to run in there and beat the living crap out of the bastard.

Perhaps it was an atavistic instinct. Maybe I'd been conditioned after twenty years of monogamous bliss. As turned on as I was my head was swelling with the jealousy of a jilted lover. I had to remind myself that I was the one who wanted this. I had hoped we would join the swinging lifestyle and talked her into trying it out, and she was the one who had resisted. As conflicted as I felt, the scene before me was an incredible turn on.

The buzzer went. I ducked into the observation room opposite. Randy came to the door, looked around, and went back to Debbie. I stepped back into the observation area in time to hear him say "There's no one out there." He bent his knees, rubbed his knob against her then slipped it in again. I could see her straining to pull her knees as far apart as possible, saw the huge cock going into her wetness, saw the labia straining around its girth, saw her pussy juice glistening on his impossibly thick shaft—watched him pumping in and out of my wife.

Then I saw Deb's eyes snap open. It was as if she was waking from a dream, and I knew she was changing her mind. I quickly went down the hall, and headed straight for the bar. I dropped a block of ice into each of our drinks, then wandered back toward the observation room as Deb stepped out, followed by Randy who was now wearing his G-string again, though it didn't hide anything.

"Hey, hon. The bar's pretty crowded. Here," and I handed her the wine glass. I ignored Randy and put my arm around her. "You okay?"

"Yes, of course."

"Okay. I think the party's winding up." We had stepped into the main hall. There was still a small crowd at the bar, but the place was emptying and most of the people had dressed again.

"Good. I want to go home."

In the car, I asked "So how was your lap dance?"

"Good."

"Just good?"

"It was fun, I suppose." She was trying to be non-committal. The rest of the drive went by in silence. At home we went straight up to our bedroom, Deb stripped and climbed between the sheets, and when I joined her she reached out for a hug. "You okay?" I asked again. She just nodded, held the long embrace.

She turned over, pushed her butt back and lifted her leg slightly. "Come into me, Neil."

Despite being in the most intense sexual situation of my life earlier that night, I hadn't come yet. I slipped into Deb.

"That guy. The stripper."

"Yes?"

"He—he got a bit intimate."

"Isn't a lap dance supposed to be intimate?"

"But this was very intimate. His cock actually kinda slipped into me. I'm sorry, Neil. I made him stop-"

I wrapped my arms around her, but kept my rhythm going. "It's okay. That's what happens at a swingers club."

"Do you love me?"

"More than you can imagine." I came in about ten more strokes. Not very satisfactory. My erection faded fast but I kept my cock in her, kept my arms around her. We often went to sleep that way.

"I love you, too Neil."

"Love you, babe."

I was drifting off, when she asked in a timid voice. "When can we go again?"

FIVE

I don't know if I expected dramatic changes in our day-to-day lives after our first somewhat tentative attempt at swinging, but it surprised me a little when life just carried on as normal. Deb seemed more attentive and cuddled tighter and longer than usual, and I reciprocated. Sex was long and slow and loving, and nothing in our conversations touched on the events at the 'Dream Catchers Dance and Social Club', aka my new favorite place.

I took all of this as a positive sign. If the Dream Catchers swingers club was going to provide a vehicle for our occasional adventures, and would not harm our marriage, then I was all in.

About three weeks after our first visit to the club, Deb told me that Dave and Maureen had invited us to an evening barbecue the next Saturday.

We arrived on time. Maureen greeted us in the kitchen with a brief hug and a kiss. Through the window I saw Dave putting beers into a cooler in the gazebo next to the pool. I had always been impressed by their home. A lot of it had been bought with Maureen's inheritance, and I know Dave was well paid. Debbie had a similar inheritance to Maureen's, of course, but we'd agreed that she should invest it in something solid and conservative.

Deb and Maureen stayed in the kitchen doing things to salads, and I went out to the gazebo. 'Hey, Dave!"

There were no greetings or pleasantries from Dave. He simply handed me a cold one and asked "so, anything new going on in your life?" He sat down heavily on a deck chair.

It was an odd, and obviously a loaded question, though I didn't know what he was getting at. I spread my hands and looked around the gazebo and the lush garden around the pool. "Same old same old, I guess. What do you mean?"

"Maureen told me."

"Huh?"

"I guess Debbie wasn't supposed to tell anyone, but I heard y'all went to a little—shall we say party house?"

I flushed. I'm not comfortable talking about intimate issues with friends, and less so with family. These things should remain private, and I was annoyed with Deb. "Yeah, we thought we'd just take a look. See what it was all about. I don't think we'll ever go again." I knew that was a lie. I'd been watching the club's calendar of events and wondering when we could plan our second visit.

"Riiiight," he guffawed. "Jesus, you've always been Mr. Straight laced preppie! So gimme the lowdown on this place? What happens there?"

"You're better off checking out their web site, Dave. We saw a lot of...stuff. We weren't active participants though, just hung around together and had too much to drink and watched people getting it on."

"Christ, Neil. You, of all people. I'm proud of you, man!"

"Don't be. It was just a little experiment. Not much happened." Dave studied me closely. "What?" I raised my hands.

"So how has it affected you and Deb? I mean has it fucked things up between you? Or has it—ya know, pulled you closer together?"

"I wouldn't say it's made any difference to us-"

"Well you look like a pair of love-struck kids. I saw you hanging on to each other like teenagers when you came in." I shrugged it off and changed the subject.

The ladies came out with snacks, and Maureen took the deck chair next to Dave. He stood immediately and announced "Let's get this thing going," pointing to the grill, and set about preparing the meats.

While we watched the burger patties sizzling, Maureen came up to us and put an arm around Dave. He broke it off and went to the cooler. "Anyone for another drink?" Dave's beer was still half full, but he extracted a new one. Deb caught my eye and shook her head slightly. She'd also seen the signs that there was trouble in this little corner of paradise.

When the burgers and dogs were done we put them on the garden table, in the shade of the gazebo, alongside the salads. The ladies sat down first and Dave took a seat at the opposite end of the table from Maureen. Conversation was light and everything seemed normal on the surface, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of stress between our host couple.

Later, the ladies were cleaning up in the kitchen and Dave and I were scrubbing down the grill and folding away the deck chair cushions. He hit me with a question that was so out of context that it was obvious that he'd wanted to ask it all day. Perhaps the half dozen beers had loosened him up. "Listen - about that club. I gotta ask you some questions, man. Are you sure you and Deb were okay afterward? I mean, doesn't it bug you that you were, you know, with other people? I mean, I dunno, man. I can see the appeal, but what if she like—enjoys it a bit too much? And what if you can't perform? I mean we aren't twenty-one year old kids anymore, right? What if I go there but little Davey won't stand to attention?"

"That's a lot of questions, and I don't have all the answers, Dave. About getting it up—I don't know about any other clubs, but most of the members at this place are our age or older. Not many hot chicks or young studs to show you up. And how would you feel about your wife getting it on with someone else? I can't answer that, but I would caution you. Discuss it first. At length and in detail. You need to figure out what each of you wants out of this thing, how far you're prepared to go, and most important, you need to know your limits."

"Jeez, man, you sound like you're reciting some pop-psych magazine article," he chuckled.

"I'm serious, Dave. Whatever you'd like to think, Deb and I didn't do much, and we made sure we were on the same page before we went there. We had a list of dos and don'ts."

"Well like I said before, it seems you an' Deb have been pretty lovey-dovey lately. I guess it worked for you."

On the way home, Deb told me that while they were in the house, Maureen had been asking similar questions.

"What the hell is happening between them, Deb? I mean Dave seems to be doing everything he can to keep his distance from her, yet Maureen wants to take him to a sex club." I was still angry about Deb telling her sister we'd been to the club, but that could wait.

"They're having problems," she said. "Dave is being a bit weird. He's keeping Maureen at arm's length—and he's having ED problems. Or maybe the problems are because of the ED."

"Erectile Dysfunction?"

"That's what Maureen says. Dave's told her that she just doesn't turn him on anymore, but Maureen thinks he's covering up the fact that he's having problems with his...plumbing."

"There are pills for that."

"He won't take them. Now she thinks the club will help her sort out Dave's problems. You know—find something that will turn him on, get him interested in sex again, and they both benefit. And that's only half of the problem. On the one hand, Dave's pushing her away. But on the other hand, Maureen's over compensating. She's smothering him, and she's trying to fix her problems with sex, like she always does."

"What!" I blurted. "What do you mean 'she always tries to fix problems with sex'?"

As I navigated the dark streets to our home, she looked at me for a long time before she said in a small voice "Jesus, Neil, we've known each other so well, and for such a long time, and I love you so much. Yet there's so much you don't know." She sighed. "So much..."

I'm a logical person and have an analytical mind, and I was unsettled about a number of inconsistencies. The rest of the drive was silent. At home I tried to make sense of it all while I went about usual household chores like putting out the trash and recycling, locking the garage, and showering to get rid of the smell of the barbecue smoke.

Dave and Maureen were having problems. Fine, I got that. The sisters had been raised in the same home by a society-conscious mother and a father who was CEO of an armaments manufacturer with annual sales to the Pentagon that ran into the billions. Yet although the twins were physically identical, their personalities couldn't be more different. Deb was a lady, in every sense. Cultured, elegant, and well spoken. She made friends easily and was the most well-adjusted person I knew.

Maureen did not share those qualities and came across as a poor girl made good. She'd been to the same college as Debbie, yet she spoke like an uneducated person. She bought expensive clothes but didn't have her twin's fashion sense. Most of her social life was with Deb's friends who allowed her into their clique. She'd never had kids and I'd never seen signs of a nurturing personality, yet she loved Dave passionately. And now—Deb's statement that Maureen "always tries to fix everything with sex"? It all spoke to an incredibly insecure personality.

And they were obviously hiding dark secrets about their past.

And what about Deb? I was still intrigued by her brief but very intimate session with the stripper, Randy, or whatever his name was.

I loved the fact that she'd been adventurous at the club. But that also scared me. She'd been so turned on by a stud with a huge dick that she had actually allowed him to enter her most private place with almost no hesitation. It wasn't a long courtship or a one night fling or anything that had been premeditated. The decision was spontaneous. Yet it was in the context of a swingers club, so I had no right to complain. But I was shaken by how quickly and easily it had happened.

Deb was already in bed and she opened her arms inviting a hug. "I know you have a lot of questions, hon. I'll explain—but right now I just need you to hold me." She held on for a long time, and I felt tears on my shoulder.

"You never knew my parents."

"No." I'd seen pictures and knew them by reputation. Her mom was petite and energetic, always dressed and made up as if she was on her way to a royal gala. She was a classic Washington-area social climber, and did whatever she could to elevate her and her family's status in high society. From the accounts I'd heard her dad was at once charismatic, gruff, and judgmental. After business school he'd entered the corporate world and climbed to the highest levels. He was used to giving orders and being obeyed, and I always had the impression that I would have been a disappointing choice for his favorite debutante if we'd ever met. They had been killed in an auto accident while Deb and Maureen were juniors in college.

"I've told you about them, but there's also a lot I've never told you."

"Okay—tell me what I don't know. And does this have anything to do with you and Maureen being so different?"

"Everything." The tears were flowing now. "Everything!"

She took a long slow breath. "I think I was the only person Dad knew who would stand up to him. Probably the only person who ever told him 'no' and refused him anything. Maureen was the opposite. Dad always had such high standards, and Maureen always felt that she disappointed him, so she was always trying to find ways to please him. It was pathetic sometimes.

"It might surprise you, but I was a very late bloomer in terms of sex. I mean I knew all about it and had seen porn and so on, but I'd never actually experienced it, in any way, until I was almost out of my teens.

"Remember, Maureen and I took two gap years between high school and college. I was nineteen, and we'd just started college. We'd been home for the weekend, and on the Sunday, Maureen told Mom she was sick and stayed home rather than going back to school.

"School was only an hour's drive, in northern Maryland, so I cut class early that Monday and drove home to see how she was doing. Dad's Mercedes was in the driveway, but Mom's car wasn't.

"I went in, and there were sounds coming from Maureen's room. I thought she was coughing or sniffing or something. I went down the hallway, and her door was open..."

"Oh, Jesus," I said. "You're not going to tell me-"

She sniffed, wiped her cheeks, and continued. "Maureen and Dad were naked. She lay there with her knees apart, while Daddy rubbed his dick against her clit..."

"What did you do?" I asked gently, still holding Deb.

"Christ, I was an eighteen-year-old virgin who didn't know anything and was petrified of my father. Sure I'd seen porn before, but this was different. Very different. What the fuck could I do? Believe it or not, besides the naughty videos, I'd never even seen a naked man before. I was out of my mind with fear. Dad's cock was huge! My mind was a blur. My father was about to have sex with my sister. His massive cock was going to hurt her. I had to stop it!

"So what did I do? God help me, I just stood there and watched. I was too scared to do anything else. Oh God, I wish I'd stopped it!"

Deb was sobbing now, but she continued. "Dad's cock slid right into Maureen. I was expecting her to cry out, but she didn't try to stop him. She...she smiled. She was enjoying it! They'd obviously done this before. The weird thing was how excited I felt. I was shocked and confused and angry, yet I had this thrilling feeling in my gut. It was weird. Dad was pumping into my sister. I should have been screaming at him, clawing him, stopping him. Instead I just watched with a kind of morbid fascination.

"Dad eventually pulled out of her. He kneeled next to her and shoved his cock in her mouth. I don't think she could take much more than his cock-head. Then he grunted, and the next thing I knew the cum was spilling from her mouth. Dad stood up and I sneaked into my room and didn't move. Christ, I was too scared to breathe. I just lay on my bed, pretending to sleep, so if anyone saw me I could pretend that I didn't see or hear anything."

I had a hundred questions but said nothing, just held her.

"God, I felt so confused. I didn't leave my room for the rest of the day, and I cried all night. And—I think I masturbated to orgasm at least 5 times that night.

"This wasn't ham acting on a porn flick. This was real, and it was confusing, and I was so goddamned conflicted in so many ways!" She shook her head, visualizing those scenes from more than two decades ago. "And that, dear husband," she chuckled though it came out as a sob, "was my baptism to the joys of sex."

"Do you know if he and Maureen got together after that time? It sounds like it might have been a regular thing."

"Oh hell yes, I caught them lots of times. Worse, I figured out that Dad had started it when we were much younger, and he'd probably been abusing her for years."

"Didn't you confront him about it? You were nineteen, and you were the only one who stood up to your Dad. God, one phone call and he'd have been in jail for the rest of his life."

"Yeah—one phone call-and my whole family would be destroyed! Remember, this was the early '80s, and things were different then. No, I didn't call anyone. And no, I never confronted him."

"Did you at least confront Maureen about it?"

She shook her head. "They never knew that I knew, and I never said anything. And worse—after that first time, I used to look for the opportunities that Dad would have to get Maureen on her own. Then I'd sneak in to see if anything was happening. Sure enough, I'd catch them at it more often than not.

"I was old enough and wise enough to do something about it, but I didn't. By now they were all consenting adults. Family, sure, but old enough to make their own decisions. And every time I saw them together, Maureen was smiling or giggling, encouraging him. Don't judge me, Neil, but my conscious decision was to leave them be. And as much as I hated it, it was also a turn-on for me. Weird..."

"And your mom never knew?"

Deb started shaking now, sniffing the tears away. "Oh, she knew. Jesus, she knew alright."

"And she didn't stop it?"

"Hah!" Deb's laugh came out as a cackle. "So maybe a year later-" she took a deep breath. "Summer. A bunch of girls from college had planned to go to Ocean City for a weekend. I was going, but Maureen decided to stay home. Some of the girls started squabbling about something before we even left. Who knows what the argument was, but I decided to skip the trip and went home. I stepped into the house, and there were sounds coming from Mom and Dad's room. I went by Maureen's room, but she wasn't there. I was a pretty accomplished sneak by now, and I took my shoes off and padded down the hallway to the main bedroom.