In Another Man’s Arms With My Husband’s Blessing



The idea of taking another man into my bed seemed naughty and exciting during the playful and whispered fantasies with my husband in our darkened bedroom.   Never would I have dreamed that this imaginary world of extra-marital sex would actually ever come true.  Nevertheless, it did come true, as the make-believe world that my husband and I created became a reality about a year into our marriage.

Looking back at the chain of events some thirty plus years later, I almost can’t believe that I was talked into this so easily.  We were still newlyweds after all; why would my husband want to spice up our marriage by bedding other couples so soon into our marriage?  That by itself is worthy of a long discussion on its own.  However, to make things simple, let’s just say that after lots of talking, fantasizing, and roll playing, I agreed to try swapping with another couple one fine Saturday afternoon.

My sexual history up to this point was fairly vanilla in nature.  I wasn’t a party girl, nor did I have a slew of boyfriends in school.  I actually lost my virginity at the age of nineteen, though it was to a college professor.  Though he wasn’t my professor, I met him at a café and we just hit it off.  I suppose it was the excitement that a dashing, exciting, and handsome older man was interested in me and what I had to say.  I quickly succumbed to his charms and I agreed to spend the day with him exploring local shops that sold curiosities and other strange items.  By the end of the day I was in his bed, my status as a virgin now a thing of the past, as he moved gently between my legs.  I was lucky in that he proved himself quite adequate in the art of lovemaking, which was fortunate for me.

To this day, I often go back to those lazy weekend afternoons at his home, our bodies entangled and joined together ending in mind numbing orgasms for me.  Unfortunately, the end came rather abruptly when his previously unknown wife, whom he had conveniently failed to mention to me, suddenly walked in on us while he was on top of me in mid-thrust.  In the midst of the screaming and shouting that followed, I dressed as hastily as I could and  literally crawled out of his home on my hands and knees before escaping to the outside and running home barefoot, with my shoes forever lost somewhere in his home.

I went on to have two short-term flings and one real boyfriend that proved, with the exception of one of them, quite unsatisfying sexually.  That’s the problem when one loses her virginity to such a dynamic lover as such a man as the professor is that you tend to expect all sex afterwards to be on the same level.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, as the good looks of my partners just didn’t match their sexual experience.  The only one who actually surpassed my professor was my future husband.

Anyway, back to my story…

I’d actually talked to the wife, whose name was Imelda, by phone a few days before our scheduled meeting to assure myself that I wasn’t about to meet with a sex crazed couple.  Imelda was very nice to me and we had a nice talk that included very little in the say of sex.  That impressed me because I’d assumed that a couple that was into swinging would talk about nothing else.  This relieved me considerably, and I began to feel much better about our Saturday afternoon meeting.

When the appointed day finally arrived, I found myself remarkable calm as I prepared to meet them.  Only when we actually arrived at their home did my stomach start churning and I experienced shortness of breath.

My husband saw my distress and tried comforting me.   He told me that we didn’t have to do this if I didn’t want to, and for a brief moment I considered taking him up on his offer.  My hesitation didn’t last too long before I regained my composure and  told him that as long as I could stop at any time I’d at least see how far I could get.  He agreed, and a moment later, we got out of the car and were knocking on the door to Imelda and her husband Desmond’s door.

A rather small and plain looking woman greeted us with a big smile and introduced herself as Imelda.  She was definitely a bit older than we were, but that didn’t seem to faze my husband one bit, as I would learn later that he had a sort of fantasy about being with an older woman.  Just how much older would actually shock me as he would drag me into fulfilling his fantasy to an even greater extreme, but that will be a story for another time.

For now, I was only concerned with what was before me.  As we stood there on the front porch for a few moments, I looked over past Imelda’s shoulder and saw a rather tall man with a powerfully built frame.  He had a rugged look about him, and though I wouldn’t call him “delicately handsome,” his rugged face betrayed a type of handsomeness that I’ve always found attractive in a man.  Furthermore, I’ve always been a sucker for men with powerful bodies as it gives me a feeling of comfort and security to be with them.

Imelda quickly invited us into her home and led us into the living room where introductions were made over hot cups of tea and some light snacks.  We then talked for a bit about various innocent topics while relaxing until Imelda boldly asked us why we wanted to try swinging.  I told her a bit about myself and  how my husband talked me into this.  Imelda told us the story of how she and her husband got into the lifestyle, which was a little bit more exciting than my own story.

However, she emphasized that she and her husband weren’t party people and preferred to meet alone with other couples, much as we were doing now. Imelda explained that it fit her own personality much better than if we were in a crowded room, as she tended to shut down in crowds. Though I could sense a hint of shyness about Imelda, she also was a straight shooter as she began talking about frank issues of the lifestyle we were about to embark upon.

I don’t want to bore the reader, but at the same time I want to emphasize that Imelda was very sensitive to my feelings.  She wanted to reassure me that nothing bad was going to happen, and even though my husband wanted to bed other women, it didn’t mean that he was searching for a new and exciting replacement for me.

Eventually, it was time to stop talking and get to the business at hand.

Imelda stood up and asked if we were ready.  After explaining in detail what was going to happen next and if I wanted to go through with it, she got up, smiled, reached for my husband’s hand, and led him upstairs.  Desmond followed his wife’s example and led me to what was apparently the master bedroom.  During those few moments as we were walking upstairs, I realized that I was getting close to the point no return for me.  I could easily back out and no feelings would be hurt.  My mind was racing but I continued to let myself be taken upstairs.  Suddenly, I was in the bedroom that was tastefully decorated and I felt very weak in the knees so I sat down on the bed.  I admit that I was very scared, as I didn’t know what Desmond was going to do first.  Had he just jumped on me I probably would have screamed and run out of there.  But he didn’t.  He saw my nervousness and instead of pouncing on me he sat on the bed, but not too close, and just talked to me.  That’s exactly what I needed for him to do and I slowly began calming down.  Eventually, Desmond took my hand into his as we continued talking and the slow seduction began to take place.

An hour later, Desmond was on top of me moving steadily between my legs.

It was such a surreal and dreamlike moment.  Was this real?  Was I actually having sex with another man…a complete stranger?  Perhaps this was a dream but when I opened my eyes, I saw that it was Desmond who was thrusting deep inside of me and not my husband.

The sex had started slow enough.  As he held my hand he started to slowly massage it as he spoke soft and kind words to me.   As he continued massaging my hands, he promised that he would stop anytime I wanted him to, which made me feel better about all of this.

The hand massaged turned into a neck massage, which in turn gave Desmond an opening to start kissing my shoulders and neck area.  Since I was wearing a rather lose blouse, his hands were able to easily slide underneath my clothing.  Before I knew it, his hands were moving up and down the front of my body and brushing against my breasts.  At this point, I was very relaxed and didn’t protest as he began to slowly peel off my clothing until I was completely naked in front of Desmond.

At this point, he also took off his own clothing (I certainly wasn’t going to do it for him). Though I was still very nervous, I just put myself into his hands literally and enjoyed some rather good foreplay.  Nevertheless, the feeling that I was cheating wasn’t far from my mind and I was dreading the actual moment I knew that was coming when Desmond and I would physically join our bodies together.  But I had some time and I was still thinking that I could back down at any time.

Once he reached my pubic hairline, I stopped him from giving me oral.  Though the only rule that my husband and I agreed upon for our first encounter would be that we wouldn’t kiss on the lips, I just felt that oral sex was just too intimate an act to allow for now.

So, Desmond pulled himself back up to eye level with me, sat on his elbow, and asked me the question that would change my life – “Are you ready for me?”

This was it.  If I was going to back down then now was the time.  Once he entered me, there would be no going back.  It’s like losing your virginity…one doesn’t lose it twice.

Therefore, I surprised myself when I told him to go ahead with it.

We’d already agreed that we wouldn’t be using condoms.  And before you say it I know that it was stupid, but I was new to it all and this was the 1980s.  Once I gave him permission, Desmond reached for a bottle lubricant on the nightstand, squirted some of it liberally on his hands, got onto his back, and applied it to his rather thick penis, which made me gasp since this was the first time I really got a good look at what he was going to put inside of me.

He then offered me some and squirted a bit onto my hands that I rubbed between my legs.  Once done, I got onto my back with my legs slightly parted and waited for Desmond.  He rubbed my breasts one last time before parted my legs a bit further to accommodate his wide body, and mounted me.  This was it, I thought to myself.  I either stop it now or accept what is about to happen. 

As he got on top of me, I was a bit concerned that his rather bulky body would crush my own fragile figure from all his weight.  My worries soon evaporated when he propped himself up on his massive arms as support in a push-up position that keep most of his weight off me.  Relieved, I then lifted up my head, looked down the length of my body, and saw that he was trying to align himself with my body.  For a moment, I enjoyed the sight of his rather hairy body only a few inches above mine.  I also saw his now fully erect male member hovering between my legs as he slowly maneuvered it into position.  I thought about reaching down to take hold of it and guide it where it needed to be but I decided to leave things alone.  I was going to let Desmond do all the work.   I put my head back down, closed my eyes, and waited for him to enter me.

Suddenly, I felt the tip of his penis planting itself at my rather moist entrance, and my heart began racing, not because of any sexual excitement, but because of what this meant.  Another man’s penis was about to enter me.  That only gave me a moment or two for me to raise any objections and stop things before he got any deeper.  I felt him pushing  deeper inside of me; for a brief  moment I felt a strange sensation of pleasure, which was suddenly replaced with a sharp twinge of pain that made me grimace and cry out, “Ouch!  That hurts.”

Desmond immediately stopped and looked at me in concern.  I told him that he needed to go slower since he was a bit thicker than what I was used to.  He waited until he saw me relax before he started moving again, though very slowly.  As he went deeper and deeper, the pain was still there but not as bad as before.

Once he was all the way inside of me, Desmond stopped to adjusted himself a bit to make me feel more comfortable.  It was then that I realized that it was way too late to stop or say anything because the fact of the matter was that another man was inside me now.  My fear up to this point wasn’t that I didn’t want to have sex, but that my husband would change his mind later on and look at me as damaged goods.  Now, it was a moot point so I tried to will myself to relax and just enjoy myself if I could.

Once he was inside of me all the way, Desmond adjusted himself but continued to keep most of his weight off me by using his elbows as a way to prop his body of me.   I appreciated what he was doing since I knew how much of a strain this put onto him.  But he seemed fine with it, so I didn’t say anything.  Once he saw that I looked comfortable he began slowly thrusting until but got faster and faster until he was at full speed.

So, here I was flat on my back in bed with Desmond who was firmly mounted on top of me moving steadily between my legs in an almost surreal state of mind with the only sound being the rhythmic movement of the bed.

Though I knew I wasn’t going to orgasm, the sensation of Desmond’s thrusting actually felt pretty good.   I remember even making a moaning sound or two to the delight of Desmond, which was actually quite heartfelt on my part.

Desmond did stop at one point to ask if I was all right.  I smiled at him and told him that I was fine, and so he continued thrusting with all of his might deep inside of me.

After what I judged to be about fifteen minutes of intercourse, I knew that I wasn’t going to orgasm.  It just wasn’t in the cards.  Part of the reason was that I just couldn’t let myself go because of my nagging guilt.  I knew that under normal times, I would have already come by now and probably once more once he started to release his semen inside of me as this normally can push me off the orgasm ledge if I’m close enough.  But that was not to be so  I asked Desmond to come inside me.

“Are you sure?”  he said.

“Yes, I want you to,” I replied.

He asked if he wanted me to pull out and come over my stomach, but I’ve actually always enjoyed the feeling of a man coming inside me, so I asked him to just make his release as deep as possible.  A few hard thrusts later and the deed was done as Desmond began filling me full of his sperm as evidenced by his rather deep grunting sound and the feel of his pulsating penis deep within me.  I immediately felt regret afterwards because I was a bit old fashioned and sort of assumed that after I married, only my husband would have the right to fill me with semen.  But now I had another man’s juices inside of me.

Desmond stayed in position on top of me for about a minute and then rolled off me in exhaustion besides me.  I stayed on my back and for a little bit and relaxed before I gathered my clothing and went into the bathroom to clean myself.  I tried to get as much of Desmond’s sperm out of my body as possible so it wouldn’t start dripping down my leg on the way home. I didn’t know if seeing such a sight would upset my husband.   I did the best I could and then put some toilet paper  between my legs to catch any remaining sperm I missed before getting dressed.

I went to the living room and sat by myself alone in my thoughts while waiting for my husband to come downstairs. Thankfully, Desmond left me alone as I he was smart enough to realize

Maybe ten-minutes or so I heard a woman’s loud moan and quiet.  Fifteen-minutes passed before my husband, along with Imelda and her husband came into the living room.

I had done a very nice job of compartmentalizing things and tried not to think about what we had just done.  I was still waiting for my husband’s anger to boil up as we drove home.  I don’t know why I would think that since he was the most even-tempered man I’d ever known.  But I just couldn’t help myself and thought for sure he would explode at me.

Instead, as we were driving, he took my hand and held it.  That simple gesture released a huge flood of relief and I started crying.  My husband was very concerned but I told him I was just relieved that he wasn’t mad at me.

After arriving home, we both took a shower and then he took me straight to bed and made very passionate love to me.  Afterwards, with his sperm now deep within me where it belonged, we talked about what had happened in detail and I confessed my fears while I was with Desmond.

He told me that he did enjoy it but didn’t want to stress me out again to this level over something like swinging.  And he then gave me an absolute veto over any future encounters.

It took some more thinking and talking but having dipped my toes into the waters of the world of swinging I wanted to try it again.  So, about a month we met again with Desmond and Imelda at their home once again.  This time I assure the reader that I enjoyed myself most thoroughly.

Yes, most thoroughly indeed.


Photo Credit:  Film, “A Man and a Woman”  1966.  Director Claude Lelouch.

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