Diary Of A Swinger

Diary Of A Swinger

By Larry Lascivious

Copyright Larry Lascivious

2012-09-01

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work (!) of this author.

Table Of Contents

Introduction

In the beginning

Little boxes

The plot thickens

The wonders of the internet

Swinging for beginners

Facing demons

More lessons learned

A walk on the wild side

Synchronicity

Mandy reels them in

You win some. You lose some

No stopping her now

Forbidden fruit

Larry gets the girls

Mandy and Larry get wise

Three score years and ten

Life goes on

Mandy’s lights go out

Mandy’s lights are on again

Reality kicks in

The rough and the smooth

Shattered illusions

Fun in the Sun

A change of pace

Epilogue

Appendix

Introduction

THIS IS an intimate account of a sexual fantasy that developed into a roller-coaster ride. I’d been happily married to Mandy, my second wife, for thirty years when we decided to turn a dream into reality. Originally, it was my idea. At the very least, I was the one who first expressed it in words but the female finally got the ball rolling, as she generally does, in our experience.

Mandy and I have had our problems but, as lovers and friends, the union has been a huge success. I love her very deeply and the experiences we’ve enjoyed have brought us closer and closer together, something neither of us expected. The best we’d hoped for was that our relationship wouldn’t be damaged.

This diary is written in real time, as events unfold. Names are changed to protect the guilty but everything else is true, warts and all. I’ve only omitted information that would positively identify the people concerned, although they’d probably recognize themselves. This isn’t just another dirty book. It offers an intimate, brutally honest view of human sexuality as seen by an observer at street level. The language is also from the street, from the gutter, sometimes, a style that suits the diary’s intentions.

Civilized values complicate the sexual experience and it’s interesting to compare humans with dolphins and primates, who indulge themselves freely, without any sense of imposed guilt. Is the fabric of society threatened by a breakdown of traditional values? Not in our experience but we can only speak for ourselves.

Couples proposing to follow us down this path should be very secure within their own relationship and completely honest with each other. Mandy and I are always sad to witness deceit between partners, now we’ve eliminated the very need to lie. If only people could open their hearts to each other, as we have, they’d find life to be so much more fulfilling.

Once we decided to realize our fantasy we talked and talked and talked.

‘Talked it to death’ was Mandy’s opinion but she loves it all, really.

It’s absolutely vital to discuss every aspect of the subject with complete honesty and reveal your most intimate fears and desires, without shame or reserve. If you can’t, this lifestyle is probably not for you.

The men we meet sometimes tell us they envy our honesty, not realizing how much hard work was required to achieve the successful relationship we now enjoy. In my own case, I endured pain and jealousy in the early stages, too. There’s always a price to pay for the things we really want in life.

2009 is the year Mandy and I finally commit ourselves to the swinging lifestyle. The early part of the year is fairly uneventful, as we gradually find out how things work but, as time goes on, Mandy has to rely more and more on her diary, just to keep a grip of things. When events begin to gather pace, I list many possible encounters that never materialize but I’ve left them in the diary because most newbies will probably have the same experiences.

In the beginning

THE JOY of sex slowly fades as the first bloom of love begins to wither. Men find this especially difficult because it isn’t easy for them to admit their partners could possibly become bored. Suggestions by agony-aunt columnists that role-playing and other devices can revitalize a relationship have never convinced me. I prefer to stare problems squarely in the face.

The need for extra stimulation will arise, which may take various forms. Men respond strongly to graphic images, whereas women seek reassurance of their continuing appeal to the opposite sex. Their stronger and more prolonged orgasms lead them to enjoy self-satisfaction by using sex toys, which they continue to do even when they enjoy a good sex life. Masturbation is more than just a substitute for the real thing.

I don’t believe the difference between the sexes is as great as some people claim – women can be as ‘bad’ as men any day – but both partners in a relationship may eventually be tempted to stray.

Summer 1970

I’m 30 years of age and my first wife and I have been together for about seven years. It’s a hot summer’s day and the office windows are wide open, revealing the gentle sounds of a distant cricket match. I’m working in the art studio of an advertising agency and unable to proceed with work in hand because of delays of one kind or another. There are always a few girlie magazines around, so I pick one up and begin reading some of the letters. One of these is from a husband, describing the intense stimulation he experiences watching his wife being fucked by other men. I’d never thought of such a thing before and the idea excites me intensely. Little did I know the plan would gather dust on a shelf somewhere in the back of my mind for 39 years, before becoming reality.

It wouldn’t be long before I spoke openly about it.

Sexually, I have a range of moods. Sometimes, sex is an expression of love. On other occasions, my lovemaking is more energetic, even lustful. There are times when I go to bed with a head full of fantasies. On these occasions, there’s no greater pleasure than to lie back and enjoy the thrill of a woman’s hand stroking and fondling my cock.

Over-stimulation of this kind makes me a bad lover and brings out the passive, receptive side of my nature. I always thrill to an eruption of sexual fantasies, as I become more and more sexually aroused and it was during one of these sessions I told my first wife, Jackie, I’d like to watch her fucking other men (and join in). The fantasies were exploding out of me and it almost seemed someone else was uttering the words. The effect on Jackie was instantaneous. She turned away sharply, a look of disbelief and bewilderment filling her eyes. After a little fevered persuasion, she continued to play with me and I treated her to more of my depraved pillow talk.

I mentioned the idea on several occasions and began to feel I was abnormal, even perverted, a belief that wasn’t assisted by Jackie’s anger and disappointment.

Despite all this, we had a good sex life, by most standards and our lovemaking occurred with about average frequency.

July 1977

The marriage ended after almost fourteen years due, partly, to my infidelities, although Mandy’s fond of pointing out Jackie and I were as bad as each other, giving me a knowing glance as she tells me. I was 37 years of age when we parted.

There was only one occasion when Jackie decided to test my fantasies in the real world, after quite a few drinks. She introduced me to a clean, smart, attractive young girl she’d been talking to while I was on stage with a band.

‘This is my husband, he’s very experienced’ she tells her.

At first, I was puzzled but gradually realized what was happening. Jackie was testing us to find how far we’d really go. One of the band, an old pal of mine, had always fancied Jackie like crazy, so the four of us drove to our home where we split up. My pal took Jackie to bed and I stayed downstairs with the girl. I never got further than stripping her to the waist and enjoying her firm young tits.

My friend went home, unable to believe his luck and the girl joined Jackie and I in our bed. I tried to fuck Jackie but she wasn’t happy about it, so soon after shagging my pal, although the girl was getting turned on by my attempts. So we all went to sleep and that was the end of that.

There was no further progress towards realizing my fantasy and the marriage eventually failed for entirely different reasons, although Jackie and I are good friends to this day. During a recent gathering, she said she’d love to have me back and I could have all the women I wanted.

‘It’s only sex’ she said. ‘What’s all the fuss about?’.

Time truly is a wonderful healer, just a bit late. We all meet occasionally. Jackie loves it but Mandy calls it ‘Happy Families’. I suppose she feels threatened by it all.

Around three years into my marriage to Mandy, I mentioned the threesome idea. This time the reaction was much milder.

Mandy would reply ‘You never know, at the right time and place and with the right man’ or ‘I’ll shock you one of these days’ (and bring someone home).

She loves sex and is very open-minded. I’m 17 years older than Mandy.

‘That’s why I always look so tired’ I often say.

Summer 1996

Things didn’t change very much until one day in 1996. Sue, one of Mandy’s female friends with an obsessive preoccupation with sex, came to visit us with a proposition. She had a male business acquaintance, James, who’d been fantasizing about sharing her with another woman. She asked if Mandy would be interested in the liaison and then said the magic words:

‘Of course, he’d want to join in’.

The effect on me was immediate. I had the fastest erection ever. I couldn’t believe my luck.

Sue’s bisexual but there was little chance of Mandy enjoying girl-on-girl because they’re close friends. Nevertheless, arrangements were made and the two women drove to a hotel in Bristol, where an expensive suite had been booked for the night by their wealthy ‘client’. Although my favourite idea was about to become reality, I felt strangely numb as they left the house together and I slept soundly, without dwelling too much on the subject. I knew that, by bedtime, all the action would be over.

Next day was quite different. I received a call to say they were on their way home and I asked how things went.

‘Absolutely fine’, said Mandy. ‘We had a wonderful time’.

Suddenly, my mood changed. I usually eat lunch around this time every day but, on this occasion, my appetite faded. I took a couple of bites and put the remainder back in the fridge. It became impossible to concentrate, so I left the office and walked and walked and walked for around two hours.

It seemed Mandy would never arrive home to put me out of my misery. Eventually, Sue’s car pulled up outside the house.

Mandy had no problems telling me what had happened and she could see I was very excited by her tales, despite the nervous state I was in. James was clean and respectable and not bad looking. He was polite and treated her with respect, never making her feel cheap or dirty. I was grateful to him for that. When he found out I knew all about the liaison, he became very excited and said he envied me for having a wife like Mandy. He could never be so honest with his own wife.

I was extremely aroused by this time, after hearing of their activities in the hotel. How I wished I could have been a fly on the wall! We went upstairs to change and I leaned Mandy over, slid her panties down and fucked her hard from behind. Short and sharp but it did the trick, at least for me.

As the months went by, we would often return to the subject and I would enjoy hearing how James led Mandy into the large bath and fucked her on all fours, watching their reflection in the mirrors. His cock was around the same girth as mine but about an inch shorter, so it did the job. Mandy insisted he wore protection, mainly because she knew of Sue’s promiscuity. She climaxed and James withdrew, slipping off a condom full of spunk.

With the three of them on the king-sized bed, Sue made her first lesbian approach. Mouth kissing was still out of bounds to Mandy and, although she tolerated Sue kissing and fondling her breasts and sucking her nipples, Sue’s next move, to go down on her, caused Mandy to move away and begin fondling James to another erection (she’s so good at that), before slipping on another condom and sitting on his cock (that’s a ‘sausage-jockey’ in the trade).

Tales of this encounter have kept me going over the years and it wasn’t until 2008, twelve long years later, that further progress was made.

I’m now 68 years of age and stand naked in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I have a fine body for my age with no ugly veins or sagging skin. My face is firm and youthful and I have a clear, healthy complexion. My hair and moustache are white and my face is tanned throughout the year because I spend so much time outdoors.

‘Not too bad’ I think to myself.

Spring 2008

Mandy walks into the room and sits astride me, planting wet kisses all over my face. She watched a TV programme about the swinging scene the previous evening and was raring to go. I couldn’t believe the transformation that had taken place.

Something remarkable happens to women when they reach middle age. The children are grown up and there’s no longer any need to be a mum and to project an image of dependable respectability. They also realize their sexual appeal won’t last forever.

‘Life’s too short’ says Mandy. ‘I don’t want any regrets in old age’.

It’s clear our lives will never be the same again.

It would be some time before we saw any action. Mandy and I frequently discuss our ideas and our exchanges become increasingly frank and honest. We open our hearts to each other and no subject is taboo.

Despite Mandy’s keenness for the idea, I still struggle inwardly with the notion that it’s unnatural to fantasize about sharing Mandy with other men. Perhaps I have suppressed homosexual tendencies and like the idea of being naked in the same room as another man. What if I have? Can I cope with that? Am I a voyeur who turns to watching to boost his flagging libido? This may often be the case, I think.

The answer to my questions came, ironically, from another TV programme that involved a detailed scientific study of human sexuality. This programme claimed the number one female fantasy is to be serviced by more than one man, even several at the same time. In our primitive past, a woman would be mounted by a number of males. It’s nature’s way of ensuring fertilization. That’s why a woman has multiple orgasms – to maintain her interest in sex over a longer period. The men involved are excited by the spectacle of the other males entering her, which helps to ensure they achieve an erection and ejaculate. This may explain a man’s strong response to sexual images.

Fine. So I’m OK then.

I feel relieved to be ‘normal’, especially when I also discover a man’s fantasy of sharing his partner with other men is far more common than I thought and probably more common still, if men were honest about the idea. The male ego is an obstacle. Although the two-girl one-man threesome (MFF) is acceptable to most men, the MMF arrangement becomes a problem because of a man’s competitive nature. Will the other man be better? He wants his partner to respond to the other guy and enjoy the experience but not too much.

MMF is so much more versatile. Most women can keep going far longer than the average man, so having two (or more) partners has obvious appeals to her. Two or three men can also penetrate a woman at the same time. This can become awkward unless handled with a pornstar level of skill. The ‘spit-roast’, where a woman on all fours takes a cock in her mouth and is taken from behind by a second male and double-penetration (D.P.) involving either two pricks in the pussy, or one of them in the anus, are experiences I’ve always believed a women should try at some time in her life. I certainly intend Mandy to get some of this, if I can.

‘So what the heck?’ I think. ‘It’s just recreational sex after all’.

These ideas begin to expand in all directions. Free from social taboos, could I enjoy playing with another man’s cock and wanking him off? I imagine feeling the surge of spunk pulsing through his dick as I grip his shaft and then turning to him, offering him my erect cock and saying ‘right, now it’s your turn’. My fantasies begin to move further. Although the idea of being fucked by another man has never entered my wildest dreams, could I be capable of fucking him? With a condom, perhaps. It’s just another orifice, after all and the anus would grip my shaft quite nicely. I might also reach around and fondle the other guy’s prick at the same time. Or I could fuck him while he takes Mandy from behind.

The jury’s still out on all this at the time of writing but it’s interesting to note gender-bending is so commonplace, among the younger generation of women, they appear to have no qualms about openly snogging in public. Same-sex partners have a better understanding of each other’s bodies. Despite this, most men still struggle with the idea of same-gender sex. All women are born of women, so same-sex contact begins at an early age but the majority of men (including me) feel their masculinity would be threatened.

June 2008

Our lives were changed forever when I introduced Mandy to the World Wide Web. Her natural people-skills are ideal for social networking sites and, in no time at all, she’s giving moral support to wheelchair-bound friends and other unfortunates all over the world.

She had been talking online to a guy named Adam for around two months and had grown to like him. They got on very well together, which eventually turned out to be very important. One day, the conversation turned to our marriage and the question of whether or not I knew of Mandy’s presence online. She assured Adam we had no secrets, and were totally honest with each other.

‘How honest?’ he asked.

Soon, the subject of sharing our bed with another man was being openly discussed, which excited Adam very much.

Saturday 30 August 2008

Mandy walks into the office at home.

‘I’ve got something to tell you. You know what we’ve been discussing, well, I think I’ve found someone (Adam)’.

I’m shaking with excitement, which continues for the rest of the day.

Mandy asks for some photographs, which are emailed to us. One is a close-up picture of Adam’s erection and another two show his full figure, with his partially erect cock clearly visible. He’s tall and fit, with a fine physique. There’s also a short, close-up video of him wanking off, probably shot on his phone. We can clearly see his spunk shoot when he cums.

‘Wow’ we both say, as we gaze at the images, wondering how we’ve suddenly come so far in such a short time.

Adam hadn’t been groomed for all this, events just led here naturally.

It’s obvious from their conversations Adam has the same ideas as me. He’d asked his wife to consider swinging and received the same angry response I received from Jackie.

‘I’ve shown you mine now let’s see yours’, asks Adam.

So Mandy and I find ourselves in the bedroom, taking sexy shots of each other. My favourite is one of Mandy lying face down, her one knee drawn slightly upwards and her arms held out above her head. Even after all these years, the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen is Mandy’s delicious butt.

We’ve just made love in the shower and my erection is now horizontal. I want to get a full hard-on again before the picture of my cock is taken, to show it off properly (it’s a man thing) but Mandy takes it anyway and it looks OK. We send the pics and receive a thankful message from Adam stating his approval.

We decide the two of them should meet first. It might be embarrassing to Adam to reject my wife in my presence and, similarly, for Mandy or me to disapprove of Adam. Added to this, we can’t afford the time and money involved in repeated meetings. At this early stage, I can’t imagine the three of us getting together as complete strangers and saying ‘Right. Shall we go and do it, then?’. That might be a bit too cold-blooded. As we gain experience, this is exactly what we find ourselves doing but we’re still new to all this.

During my masturbation fantasies, I would often imagine saying to Mandy ‘I think it would be a good idea for you to go solo with the guy first’. This idea was always a huge turn-on for me.

After a while, Mandy arranges a meeting with Adam. Reality kicks in and for two whole weeks I feel as if someone has my gut in a clenched fist. One night, I wake up at around 4 a.m. Night time is often full of fear and uncertainties and I suddenly feel I’ve shaken myself out of some kind of sick trance. How could I even think about encouraging Mandy to screw other guys, let alone fantasize about sharing the excitement with her? I resolve to tell her in the morning I’d rather forget the whole thing.

Strangely, I rise at 6 a.m. feeling completely comfortable with our plans. After blowing repeatedly hot and cold, ever since the idea first became a real possibility, the battle is won, or lost, depending on the view from whichever moral high-ground is chosen.

In any case, it wasn’t to be on this occasion. Complications in Adam’s private life delay the matter for around three months until a text message arrives asking Mandy if she’s still interested in the three of us getting together.

I sit beside her as messages are exchanged. Would we like to meet up together in the first instance? Would I like to meet him first? He’s obviously trying hard to project the image of a man who isn’t interested in marriage breaking, or a long-term relationship with Mandy. The guy seems to be a really genuine person, one who can be trusted. They agree a date but I’m working on the day they choose and the following weekend, Mandy’s working. Time seems to be running out.

(In fact, for various reasons, if they hadn’t met on this occasion, they wouldn’t have met for a very long time.)

It can be interesting to put your name into an online search. My own name brought up over a quarter of a million pages, but only a few of them were about me. Adam, who has a picture on his profile of himself in uniform, holding an automatic rifle, is with special services in the middle-east. No wonder he’s fit!

Little boxes

Saturday December 20 2008

Today’s the day. The prospect of Mandy driving off alone to shag a complete stranger in a hotel bedroom was probably my main motivation for agreeing to the meeting. It was supposed to be very erotic.

The reality is something completely different. Although I didn’t have too many problems dealing with the first meeting with Sue and James, more than twelve years ago and still enjoy hearing about it, this time I feel threatened. Adam has a fine physique, his cock is around the same length as mine but appears to be slightly thicker (girth is important to a woman) and, most important of all, he’s 25 years younger. He’s also really good looking. Even worse, Mandy has developed a very great fondness for the guy.

When I arrive home from work, I have time to kill before Mandy’s car rolls into the drive. I drink four cans of beer in the space of an hour to help me cope and I haven’t eaten much because of the anxious state I’m in. Mandy’s concern for me is obvious when she walks into the lounge. Her first reaction is to propose we drop the whole idea.

‘There’s no way anyone or anything would ever be allowed to threaten our happiness’ she insists.

Usually, she would sit alongside me but she chooses a chair opposite, as if she feels awkward about the day’s event. She knows I must be desperate to hear what happened but she’s finding it difficult to begin and I have no intention of prodding her. Then, slowly and with a little difficulty, she begins her story.

She arrived in the wrong car park but a quick call on her phone succeeded in bringing them together.

‘When he got out of his car I was amazed at his size’.

She just looked skyward and said ‘good grief, you ARE a big boy’.

They spent around three hours in a nearby restaurant, talking and getting to know each other. She didn’t want to jump into bed with him without warming to him first. When they got to the room, Adam took a shower and made them both a cup of coffee.

‘It wasn’t non-stop raunchy sex’ she tells me. ‘We were talking much of the time. It’s difficult to explain. He was mainly concerned with pleasuring me’.

He’s very clean and well presented, taking great pride in his appearance. During their long conversation, before going to the bedroom, Adam said he envied our openness and wished he could enjoy the same freedom at home.

We’d agreed I wouldn’t question her about the intimate details of their time together. In any case, I see no reason to torture myself. I’d always said that, no matter how good a man is as a lover, a driver, or anything else, someone will beat him, sooner or later. I’d also claimed no one should ever try to own another human being. I’d frequently admitted that, although Mandy and I have a good love life, it’s impossible for a man my age to be as virile as a much younger man. There’s also additional excitement in a fresh encounter, when both partners will take extra trouble to impress each other. I know I would.

None of these claims is helping me in the least, as I try to come to terms with what’s happened. There’s a finality about the matter that’s chilling. If damage has been done, either to our marriage or to our sex life, it’s too late to do anything about it. What’s done is done.

I can’t resist asking her if there was any anal.

‘There was, actually’ she replies, gently, clearly trying to soften the blow.

I suddenly grow cold, feeling desperately alone and unhappy. This seems to be a step too far. My reason tells me I would’ve done the same in his position but I still feel so much pain when I think about it. He’d also rimmed her, something I’ve never done, or wanted to do. It isn’t important to Mandy, either, but she tells me it was quite nice.

‘He’d got me very wet and relaxed by this time, so the experience wasn’t painful and it was actually an accident, initially’.

We go to bed and Mandy reaches over to feel my partially erect cock, as I lie next to her. To my surprise, bearing in mind I’m knackered from a day of utter torment and fairly drunk by this time, also, I soon have a rock-hard erection. Mandy asks if I want to make love to her but I know I won’t be up to scratch because of the state I’m in and we hate fumbling. I do like to do a proper job.

She rolls on to her side, with her lovely butt in my direction and I thrust my cock into her with little style and no foreplay. This is what I call the lazy-home-from-the-pub position. Sex lasts all of a minute on this occasion, which makes me feel worse, when I imagine the long, expert session she’s probably just had with Adam. Nevertheless, I’ve proved my manhood hasn’t been damaged by the experience, which was probably why I did it.

This is the worst night of my life and, at one point, I feel I’m going out of my mind. I turn to Mandy and tell her I’m scared, really scared. She holds me tightly in her arms.

‘Perhaps we should always meet up together in future’ she says.

Women, free from competitive pressures, see things differently, and Mandy assures me I have no reason to feel inferior.

‘He’s so much like you’ she says. ‘He even makes love the same. You two will get on really well’.

The only comment she makes about the sex was to say he’s ‘very good’. Well, that’s what we need, isn’t it? She explains her way of dealing with all this is to put things into little boxes and it soon becomes obvious, from her attitude to me in and out of the sack, she’s succeeded in doing just that. She has, quite literally, put the matter behind her. I later asked if she’d been recalling the events in the bedroom, running over them in her mind, blow by blow and she assured me she hadn’t. The occasion was a prelude to the three of us meeting, that was all.

Mandy has always found it difficult to tell lies. I’ve heard her on the ‘phone, trying to avoid one of her pain-in-the-butt friends and it’s always pathetically obvious she’s telling fibs. Her body language entirely supports her claims. She hasn’t changed in the least towards me. Adam seems to be the perfect candidate for our threesome idea!

Christmas Day 2008

I’m 69 on Christmas Day, so I tell everyone I’m now in my seventieth year. It will ease the pain when I actually get there They say Capricorn is the randiest sign in the Zodiac and it suits me fine to believe this.

I buy Mandy a very, very expensive Christmas card. The words inside are perfect but I also cut out a paper heart and write some words of my own. I never hesitate as the words just pour out of my heart and I have tears in my eyes as I write.

New Years Day 2009

We invite my ex-wife and her husband over and Jackie arrives in a low cut dress, clearly revealing her ample boobs.

‘I never noticed’.

‘You little liar’.

Jackie’s a good example of what’s nowadays called MILF (Mums I’d Like To Fuck). She’s almost 65 and still very attractive. She’s taller than Mandy, with honey blond hair and a nice figure. I always think she looks like a retired porn star, or stripper, a description intended to be a compliment. I begin to fantasize about a threesome with her and Adam. No chance, really, but I’m sure they’d both enjoy it. I know I would. Mandy would kill me but it would just be loads of fun. But how would Mandy see it? Despite the open relationship that’s developing between the two of us, she still regards Jackie as a threat.

January 2009

It’s now early January and we’re awaiting the call that will send us forward to experience my lifelong fantasy, if it ever happens. Adam’s life is more complex (we do know this for sure) so it might be better for us to await his next move. Each time Mandy’s mobile bleeps, I have to resist the temptation to look over and read the message. She must be allowed some privacy. Two unsolicited goodwill text messages from Adam have encouraged us to believe he won’t disappear from the scene, now he’s had his way with Mandy. He seems to be as good as his word and has insisted I’m not left out. Mandy and I have agreed, for the foreseeable future at least, one-on-one liaisons will only be allowed as the prelude to a threesome, although our attitudes are evolving steadily.

Because of the age difference between the two of us, I’ve told Mandy she must take a lover when my own interest in sex fades. Having said that, her own interest won’t last forever, so I could be worrying about nothing.

‘You think too much’ is Mandy’s constant criticism of me.

She’s right, as she usually is. What a girl. And a magnificent fuck, too.

The prospect of being overcome by nerves, after dreaming of a threesome for so many years, is causing me some concern. I decide to get some Viagra tablets, just in case. It’s quite common for nerves to take control under these circumstances, even with far younger men.

I’ve known my GP for many years and he asks me why I need tablets. I explain I don’t, really, but Mandy likes more than one orgasm and I want to make sure she gets them.

‘She’s a lot younger than I am’ I explain.

I can’t tell him we’re about to become swingers. He would’ve given me a lecture on safe sex, which I can do without.

‘Well’ he says. ‘It’s a very safe drug’.

He checks my blood pressure, which is OK, and tells me they sell tablets at the surgery for £40 or £10 per tablet.

‘Some men only need a quarter of a tablet’ he says ‘and £2.50 a leg-over isn’t bad in my book’.

The doc and I laugh together. I’m glad the encounter went so smoothly, but the busybodies on reception will have the news everywhere by now.

I don’t need any help to perform but, with just a quarter of a tablet, I’m like a teenager again. Mandy assures me younger men take them for recreational purposes. Her friends have told her this. When Adam joins us, I’ll take half a tablet, so watch out, Mandy! The first time I take half a tablet, I still have a hard-on next morning! A lot of time and planning will be going into these meetings and we don’t have an endless amount of money to throw at the travel and accommodation expenses. We need to ensure it’s all worthwhile on the day.

Viagra has been a trickier subject to deal with than I expected. On the one hand, I now feel under pressure to perform as well as the younger men we shall meet and pressures before bedtime are always a bad thing. On the other, we both want our lovemaking to be spontaneous and I don’t want to be looking across at Mandy wondering whether to take a tablet or not. I suggest we shouldn’t worry about tablets in our own home but reserve them for our liaisons with other men and women. I propose we should just go to bed and see what develops. Mandy’s too tired herself, sometimes and, with Mandy, ‘no’ means ‘no’.

She says she’ll tell me when she wants me to take a pill. I’ll probably know from her body language when she wants one of our mammoth bouts, generally when neither of us is working next day. I tell her the pill itself doesn’t create the erection. I’d taken a half tablet around twenty minutes earlier and I stand naked in the bedroom, pointing to my half lob.

‘It gets hard when I’m aroused and you do that to me, just by being you’ I explain.

I believe it’s important for her to know this, in case she feels I need a pill to fancy her. Nevertheless, we use up the first four pills over the next three weeks, sometimes a quarter and sometimes a half, notching up some incredible sessions.

We’ve agreed we shouldn’t attempt to choreograph our bedroom manoeuvres when we meet Adam for the first time, just go with the flow. My idea is Mandy should take control. With two men to service her, I want her to use us as she sees fit.

‘We’ll see’ is her usual reply.

Nevertheless, there are a few porn movie positions I hope to get around to such as the spit-roast and D.P. The male perspective dominates my thinking. The challenging idea emerging from all this is that I know Mandy will achieve a new level of excitement and fulfilment from the threesome and I want this for her because I love her. I find myself wondering how many women would value this freedom. Or are they just wiser? We’ll find out if, and when, the occasion arrives!

As we move nearer to the day the three of us meet, we’re tending to focus on boundaries, during our long evening conversations (which now revolve mainly around one subject). I insist Adam may do whatever Mandy’s comfortable with, after all, they probably went through the book when they met. Mandy asks me to speak out if Adam makes any moves I’m unhappy with. I doubt if I will. It would be too much like bottling out, which I don’t do.

I’m still aching with curiosity regarding Mandy’s response to Adam in the hotel bedroom. How many times did she cum? Was there anything he did better than me? We can always learn from others. Did he have a hard-on as soon as they stood naked together? How long did the session last? Did they have sex again before leaving the hotel? What did he do with the dildo he asked Mandy to take? Was she shouting out, as she sometimes does with me? None of these mental images is turning me on, strangely enough, I just feel the need to know, as any guy would. The woman who’s so precious to me enjoyed an intimate experience and I was not part of the story.

I must stop all this, it’s driving me crazy. I must also keep my promise to Mandy not to question her. Perhaps, in time, when the dust has settled a little and we become more experienced (we’re ‘newbies’ at present), it may be possible to satisfy my curiosity.

I become concerned Mandy might doubt my love for her. After all, a man’s traditional role is to protect his woman from male rivals. So I constantly assure her of my love which, as a result of all this, is now deeper than ever. Mandy feels the same. I believe she’s looking forward to the rendezvous as much as I am and for similar reasons, too. She explains she likes the prospect of being well and truly ‘got at’. She also tells me she doesn’t need my protection and reminds me she left home at 15 years of age to look after herself.

Something marvellous has happened to her, physically. Her female hormones seem to be raging, as the online flirting continues to increase her self-esteem as a woman. I also believe the eager anticipation of our proposed liaisons with other men is having an effect on her. Her skin is soft and her kisses are sweeter than ever. I can’t get enough of them.

Mandy’s been really busy on the internet, during the long silence from Adam and has developed another opening. Again, it happened naturally, after Mandy and the guy had been talking and getting along for some time. This guy, Kenny, is a totally different kind of animal. He’s totally uninhibited and is soon describing in detail all his curious ideas on the subject, without any sense of embarrassment.

Mandy suggests the two of us should speak on our mobiles and Kenny gives us a window for the conversation. I park in a side street, at the appointed time, and ring him.

‘How do you feel about the two of us touching?’ he soon asks.

Mandy had already told him this was something he’d have to take up with me. Trouble is, I don’t know the answer at the time of writing. He also asks me if I have any idea how far I’ll be prepared to go with another man. It’s weird, having this conversation on a mobile phone, with a complete stranger living 70 miles away, who we’d met on the internet. I marvel at modern technology.

When I get home, I say to Mandy ‘It’s a rum do, all this!’.

She laughs and says she can’t wait to see how I cope with the situation when Kenny gets hold of me. Kenny’s idea is a foursome, although he really likes the MFF thing and he has two ladies in mind who might be brought in for a MMFFF romp. I tell Mandy it could undermine her opinion of me as a man if she sees me involved with Kenny.

‘I might be too busy with the other women to care’ she says, which seems out of character for her.

‘You wouldn’t do that, would you?’ I ask.

‘I’ll need a few stiff drinks first’ she replies.

‘A stiff something’ I respond.

Again, progress has been slow, although we regularly chat to Kenny online. Human sexuality is a complex area. This recreational offshoot of the need to reproduce occupies our minds more than any other subject, even money. There’s an incredible variety of practices, ranging from the mildly kinky to the downright weird.

Kenny’s own ideas begin pouring out, getting more and more bizarre all the time.

‘What if’ he writes, obviously getting more and more excited, ‘you wank all over me while Mandy sucks me off and one of the other girls sits on my face’.

Mandy and I burst out laughing. Her laugh has a slightly hysterical quality, as if the strain of the past few weeks has been greater than she cares to admit. She’s a brave girl, not given to moaning about things.

‘This is getting off the wall’ she says.

Dyslexia is Kenny’s problem. The more excited he becomes, the more his spelling begins to suffer and, eventually, his messages become almost unintelligible. It’s a bit like reading through a phrase book for extra-terrestrials.

I fear Kenny might be a dreamer and I currently favour Adam’s manly lustfulness and the prospect of seeing his thick dick probing Mandy on all fours, as I gaze down at her butt from the other end.

‘First come, first served’ is Mandy’s common sense attitude to it all.

At the very least, we’re guaranteed a good giggle with Kenny and Co. and it’s important to keep a sense of humour going through all this.

We’re now well into the second week of the New Year and something very rare happens. Mandy and I have an argument. She’s been chatting to a guy in Germany for a while who’s been showering her with compliments, as guys do on these social networking sites. I don’t mind, because it’s obviously stroking her ego no end and she loves flirting.

‘He’s sent me a picture’ she says. ‘He’s really handsome. He visits London occasionally on business’.

I teasingly ask her if she’d thought of meeting him.

‘Perhaps’ she replies. ‘I’ve got to keep my options open’ (for the threesome).

Mandy has one of those animated faces that instantly records her moods and thoughts, which is why she’s so useless at lying. It’s clear she’s fired up by the idea. The problem is, the previous two nights she’d rejected my advances because of tiredness. It’s amazing how alcohol loosens the tongue and removes inhibitions. I begin to complain she can have me anytime she likes, rejects me but is prepared to travel to London to meet a complete stranger.

‘Please try to see my point of view’ I say to her.

I’m disappointed to note how much like a typical male I’m beginning to sound. I can’t recall much about the details of the ‘discussion’, as I prefer to call it, which probably indicates how ridiculous it all was. I just wish Mandy would use the ‘bored’ word and yet, at the same time, I know I wouldn’t like it if she did. Perhaps we haven’t achieved that state of complete and utter no-holds-barred honesty we’re aiming for. I try to convince her that if people turn to extra-marital activities, it can only be because sex at home has become routine, hence they are ‘bored’. She prefers to say she’s not bored (she’s protecting my feelings I think) but our proposed liaisons would be ‘more of the same but different’. OK. I think I understand.

Realizing no further progress will be made, I have the good sense to go to bed, giving Mandy a fatherly kiss on the forehead as I go.

‘Right. We’ll have sex every night from now on’, she says, making it sound like a challenge.

I realize the female is getting the upper hand as usual.

I’m just drifting into sleep, when Mandy climbs into bed, reaches around to my cock and starts to fondle me. She denies it has anything to do with my complaints but she’s clearly still annoyed with me. I’m having to admit to myself I, too, am not always in the mood, which clever Mandy knew of course. So I go down on her, using all the tricks she’s recently taught me. I’m a late starter in this department, despite my experience and the long list of sex partners I’ve enjoyed over many years of womanizing. She tells me to suck the clit quite firmly between my lips and then very gently lick the tip. The effects are amazing and she writhes with passion. She always asks me to stop before cumming, preferring to feel me inside her.

Unfortunately, the perform-to-order start to our session is having a bad effect and my cock has now gone slightly limp. Well, it is the early hours of the morning and I have done a full days work. I also prefer to be in control, not raped by a vengeful female. I pull her legs up over my shoulders, which makes it easier for me to enter her and, eventually, I rise to the occasion.

I have a really bad night’s sleep, as I go over and over in my mind the events of the evening and my mediocre performance in the sack. I have to admit, this adventure has gone off the rails. It’s become too much like hard work.

‘This can’t be right’ I think, and I decide to blame myself.

Next day, I’m on Manchester’s outer ring road, returning from a trip to West Yorkshire and my phone rings. Mandy tells me Kenny’s been in touch and wishes to fix a meeting the following Wednesday evening. He proposes to introduce us to two women, one of whom has a home of her own where we can meet. Mandy’s trying hard to sound cool to punish me. She can keep it up for days at times like this.

‘How do you feel about all this?’ I ask, trying to show I care (which I do).

‘OK, I suppose’ she replies, coolly. ‘I thought you ought to know, that’s all. So you’ll be in your element with three women, won’t you, lucky boy. See you later’.

Lucky is the first word that came into my mind, too, but I don’t feel lucky, with the love of my life hurting so much. One of the ladies has a size 44FF bust. Good grief! I’m feeling better already.

When I get home I cut a heart out of a sheet of paper and write ‘So sorry, Mandy, your husband is an idiot, please forgive him xxxxxxx’. I place it in the lounge where she can’t miss it. I’ll be out when she arrives home, which allows time for my psychological blackmail to take effect.

Mandy’s attitude has changed but she retains just enough coolness to punish me a little while longer. I’ve never understood how she decides exactly when enough is enough.

I’m annoyed with myself because I’ve upset the apple cart quite unnecessarily and I’ve also broken my own rules. Of course another man might turn out to be better. Of course Mandy, like me, needs some extra spice in her sex life. Of course I can’t expect to compete with men twenty or more years my junior. Who said all this? I did (so it must be right!).

The evening is spent peacefully. The best part of every day is when Mandy and I just sit together, having a drink and a chat. I tell her I hope Adam surfaces again soon.

‘Why?’ Mandy asks.

‘Because I need to deal with the demons in my head and I won’t be able to do that until I see the two of you together’ I reply. ‘I’m still hurting from the afternoon you spent in the hotel room with Adam’.

‘You think too much’ says Mandy, again. ‘I’ve never thought about it since’.

The funny thing is, I believe her. This thing really aint easy but there’s still no chance of my bottling out.

‘The bigger the prize, the higher the stakes’ I say, enjoying the wisdom of my own words. ‘What do you really, really think of all this?’ I ask, looking Mandy directly in her eyes at point-blank range.

‘It’s scary and exciting all at the same time’ she replies. ‘We’ve never been this route before’.

She’s telling the truth, again. By the time she gets to bed I’m sound asleep. I’ll be a nervous wreck at this rate.

Next evening, Mandy informs me Adam’s been in touch, true to his word. Because his constant absence from home has been causing problems, he’s decided on a career change. Uncertainties regarding the date of forthcoming interviews explain why he’s calling the shots, yet again. He’s a family man at heart. Mandy knows a little about his domestic problems but has been sworn to secrecy. She’s very loyal and I respect that.

He proposes a meeting between the three of us in two weeks time. It will probably be during a weekday afternoon. I ask Mandy to give me plenty of notice, so I can decline all offers of work on the day. This is too important to allow anything to get in the way! Nevertheless, I get a sudden stake through the heart when Mandy gives me the news. It’s rather like the feeling you get when you leave a train and realize you’ve left your briefcase on board.

‘Oo-er!’ I think to myself.

I turn to Mandy and tell her the whole thing could be a wonderful, even beautiful experience, if it works out. He and I will probably get on well, Mandy really likes him and we both adore Mandy.

‘I hope we give you a really good seeing to’.

‘We’ll see’.

Mandy had been tricked into a threesome some time before I met her. Her boyfriend at the time took her to his flat, accompanied by a male friend. Mandy was really tipsy (which she rarely is) and the bedroom was in total darkness. Someone was sucking her tits but she soon realized the man fucking her wasn’t her boyfriend, who had a 13″ cock, so there was no doubt about that. Mandy felt cheap and dirty and never forgave her boyfriend for the way he’d used her.

I used to enjoy hearing about this huge dick but soon realized it can be a disadvantage. He’d never found a woman who could take it all and probably never will. Sometimes, when he lost his self-control, he would hurt Mandy. Nevertheless, the pornographic image in my mind of Mandy on all fours, with his huge shaft poised for entry, makes me ache with desire to go back in time and watch them together.

In 1986, seven years after we married, an incident occurred that came very close to becoming our first ever threesome. Mandy accompanied a guy she’d been dancing with out to the car park of a night club. After a few kisses, he pulled out his cock and slipped it into Mandy’s hand. She said he was a nice snog, clean and really randy, with a lovely dick. She gave him some of her expert fondling and was just beginning to wank him off, when her female companion shouted her name. This was unfortunate, because Mandy said she would definitely have brought him home and our threesome would’ve taken place many years earlier. She’d discussed the idea with the guy and he was up for it.

With this experience, the MFF liaison in 1996 and the trial run with Adam recently, I’m beginning to feel a little left out.

‘The balance will soon be restored’ I think to myself.

The coming year promises to be quite eventful.

A couple of days later, Mandy phones me. I’m in a cellnet dead zone in rural Hampshire and I phone her back as soon as the missed call alert comes over. Kenny had suggested an evening liaison next Wednesday but one of the ladies can only make it in the daytime when, unfortunately, I’m already contracted to work.

‘This is weird’ I think to myself. Mandy’s chatting live, in real time, on the computer at home (I can hear the keys clacking) and relaying the conversation to me on my hands-free as I drive past Winchester.

He asks Mandy to go on her own. I assure her I really wouldn’t mind but she’s decided she definitely won’t go without me and that’s that. I don’t feel threatened by this new encounter, somehow. On the other hand, I have what Mandy insists is a distorted mental picture of Adam. I’ve named him ‘action-man’.

‘He’s just an ordinary bloke’ she says. ‘But I really do like him’.

We’re therefore hoping to meet Kenny and Co the following Monday, instead. I hope it all works out because Carol, the lady with the 44FF bust, is a raver who’s up for anything. ‘Any which way’ is how Kenny describes her attitude.

Goody goody! And I couldn’t make Wednesday afternoon. Damn, damn, damn! I hope Adam makes contact before then, anyway. I want to get that one going first, to help me face my demons.

Another day dawns and Kenny tells us Carol can’t make Monday, so we agree to meet Wednesday 28 January 2008 at her house. The second lady won’t be present.

‘Don’t be greedy’ I think to myself.

There’s a 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. window for the affair, which means setting out at 8 a.m. Nothing unusual about this, in fact an 8 a.m. start is a lie-in for me but it’s all starting to sound more like business than pleasure, a bit like shagging by numbers.

The next day, Kenny, Carol and Mandy have a three-way live chat on the internet which goes well, until Kenny’s dyslexia kicks in and turns the conversation into a train wreck. There’s a fair amount of good-humoured banter. The two girls get on well and Mandy promises to show me the pictures of Carol. She’s hardly stopped laughing since all this started.

‘I can’t wait to see your face when Carol gets hold of you’ she says. ‘And when Kenny does, for that matter’.

‘We’ll have to see about that’ I reply.

The guy-on-guy thing is still wide open at this time, with certain boundaries definitely in place. Mandy tells me Carol’s very keen to meet me, although there have been some exaggerated tales about my dick. I call it ‘average plus’ which is not the same as ‘very big’ so I ask Mandy not to exaggerate.

The following evening, I have a live online chat with Carol. We get on well and I move the conversation very gently towards the nitty gritty of what all this is about. Even when the purpose of the liaison is well known and accepted, I still place limits on how crudely I behave, especially with a complete stranger who’s been told I’m a gentleman. I also have an opportunity to look at Carol’s pictures. She has a lovely face and a warm smile. And big tits. She’s seeing quite a lot of Kenny and she reveals he, too, takes Viagra (a whole tablet!) despite being only 47 years old. His medication for diabetes affects his libido.

Carol tells Mandy that Kenny has a sore butt from her anal probing with a dildo. He certainly has no hang-ups! I had something a bit more mainstream in mind. Carol was first described to me as a ‘reformed lesbian’, whatever that means, so she has all the toys. She can’t wait to get to grips with Mandy, who’s also having doubts about the same-sex stuff. Carol’s never experienced two guys but has been to bed with two girls a number of times. It seems we’re all moving into new territory, apart from Kenny the raver.

Our evening conversation at home turns to discussing how the day might go, when we meet up. There has to be some planning, however spontaneous we prefer to be. I don’t expect the girls to suck our dicks after they’ve been in someone’s butt, although I must expect to be kissing Mandy or Carol after they’ve sucked Kenny. We can’t spend the afternoon cleaning up between manoeuvres. I suggest we leave the yucky stuff until Kenny and I have serviced both women, individually and as a MMF threesome with each of them. Then we’ll see. Mandy proposes taking some wipes with us. I feel sure the ladies will expect the taste of man-meat, not some perfumed toilet paper but I think it’ll be a good idea nevertheless. She also gives me a bit of advice:

‘Find a girl’s clit and she’ll be your friend for life’.

It’s taken all these years for me to find this out. Shame on me! I’ve been a selfish lover.

The next topic in our conversation concerns Mandy’s online German friend. I suggest Mandy’s ideas might be evolving. Might she shag the guy when they meet, even if it may not be the prelude to a threesome.

‘I might’ she replies. ‘I really don’t know and that’s the truth’.

‘That means we’re moving towards a completely open relationship’ I point out.

Mandy’s reluctant to agree with this statement. She probably needs time to think about the consequences, as I do.

‘I’m not so sure you’d be too keen on the idea if the shoe was on the other foot’ I say to her.

I have to admit it won’t be so easy for me to pull online anyway. My profile picture is a fair representation and I’ve been tagged by some tasty females, including one or two girls in their teens and twenties. The problem is,