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The Meeting

“Welcome, Dave,” Pete said as he held open the door. His smile was warm, but his eyes reflected a hint of caution. Still, it was a good beginning. “Hi, Pete,” I said, “it’s good to finally meet you,” and I took his hand. “Dave,” he said sweeping his arm in her direction, “this is Jen.” She stood back toward the living room and was far better looking than her photos allowed. As we used to say in my bureaucrat days Jen exceeded expectations, blonde and slim with a pleasant face. Jen would turn any head. I caught caution in her eyes as well, but the smile was genuine. She is in her thirties, mature yet youthful, if that makes any sense. Her white summer dress with a colorful floral design allowed a hint of an ample bust; sweet, not slutty. Jen is, in a word, a stunner. I took the bold step of moving past Pete and offered my hand. I considered moving in close and brushing her cheek with mine, but there was time enough for any of that. Her soft hand and delicate fingers were everything I could imagine in a beautiful woman. “Nice to meet you, Dave,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Jen,” I said. “You look lovely.” “It was amber ale, Dave?” Pete said. “Amber ale, Pete. Good memory.” “Make yourself comfortable.” I pointed to the sofa. “Is here alright?” I asked. “Perfect,” Jen said. The home was modest. I saw in the kitchen where a child’s art and school notices decorated the refrigerator and bulletin board. I sat at one end of the sofa to give Jen all the room she needed. She did not disappoint. She took her seat not quite against the other arm and crossed her legs. What beautiful smooth legs. She wore Roman-style sandals, the kind that wrapped up over the foot and ankle. What is it with women’s shoes that drive men wild? We were not in hand holding range, but that was not the idea, not then. Pete came in with a wine for Jen and a nice cold beer for me. Pete returned with his own wine. I held out my beer and offered, “To new friends.” We leaned together and clinked glasses. There was the small talk between sips. Easy to find? Did you come far? Glad we could get together. How is your day? I met Pete, at least a generation younger than me, in an airport bar. He asked what do you do? I’m a writer, I told him. Since he was a complete stranger and I would never meet him again I added, “erotica.” This caught his attention and he penned his email on a business card. We left for different concourses. He liked my first stories and we started chatting. Since my erotica dealt with swinging and subset called hotwifing, he wanted to know more and, more particularly, the details of my own experiences. I was happy to share online how married women dated other men with the consent and even the participation of their husbands. These online exchanges are a safe and harmless form of entertainment for me. I’m a writer and enjoy pleasing readers with my words. Pete revealed a fantasy involving his own wife, Jen, and another man. The question in all this keyboard action is the involvement—and consent—of the wife. I have chatted and emailed with dozens of wannabe hotwife husbands who never act on them or have the idea rejected by their wives. Pete took the step of mentioning to Jen his mature online friend and Jen wanted to know more. Soon, Jen was in touch with me online and I shared with her what I knew about swinging. She wanted to know more and more. In all these contacts I urged each of them, talk to each other. I offered to help. I am a generation older than them and have never played across such an age difference. I have my fantasies too, however. My attitude at this point in the arc of life is to give back to others what I have learned in gratitude for the joys I have experienced. “So, Jen,” I said. “You and Pete have been talking?” It was as much statement as question. Jen and I had our own online relationship and she asked that I not share what we discussed with Pete. Out of courtesy, I told Pete the ground rules and he honored her request. I think Pete enjoyed the idea of Jen and I in our own chat room. Jen was full of questions about my own experiences, how I met couples, how long I had been meeting couples, what happened when we got together, and what did the husbands do? I was as comprehensive as I could be and kept encouraging her to talk to Pete. She was very complimentary of my courtesy and patience—all online—and seemed to warm to the idea of some kind of friendship. “Well,” Jen said holding her glass with both hands, “we have.” “The idea of non-monogamy appeals to you?” Jen blushed and Pete sipped his wine. “Let me help,” I said. “Pete, you are thinking of Jen seeing another man?” “Pretty much,” Pete said. “What do you like about it?” “Well…” Pete cleared his throat. “I love Jen and want her happy in every way. I like the idea of you picking her up and taking her out.” “So, she and I go out and leave you home?” “Yeah.” “For most husbands there are a couple of things going on. One is allowing the wife her own power, to make her own choices, just to have a good time, as an act of love. Sort of like buying her a dream vacation, a gift.” “Yeah.” “Another the sense of denial. It’s very common, you know. Men are expected all to be alpha males. We have to earn the money and be in charge. It’s a reversal in roles and many men enjoy that feeling of having his precious wife taken from him. It’s complex, but human emotions are complex. For some it’s the humiliation.” “OK.” “The main thing is that it is normal and good. As long as you two both communicate, everything is fine.” “OK.” “Jen,” I said extending my hand across the sofa, “you are a healthy woman. I’m sure you think about other guys.” “Sure.” “This is a way to act on some of that and still be safe and still leave your marriage safe. Not only do you have fun, but you give Pete pleasure. There are a number of ways couples do this. One is like Pete mentioned, you go out on dates with me and he stays home to experience all the emotions. You have a nice time—I hope it’s a great time—and you know Pete is enjoying himself. It is a gift to yourself and a gift to him. Not to mention a gift to me. I enjoy giving pleasure. To give pleasure is to experience pleasure. You have pleasure. Pete has pleasure. And you open the door to new adventures.” Jen slouched a little and uncrossed her legs as she relaxed. “I’ve met with couples,” I told them, “but the husband has always been present. He likes to watch and sometimes he joins in. I like that, the three of us focusing on her pleasure.” “What does he do?” Jen asked. Pete wanted an answer too. “Most of the time he watches and he might talk to his wife. He might ask, ‘What’s he doing?’ and she’ll say, ‘He’s fucking me.’ Stuff like that. I’m busy paying attention to her. Sometimes he joins in and it’s a threesome. The woman looks over to see the look on his face. I am giving them both pleasure. How hot is that?” “Anything else?” Pete asked. “A couple of guys went down on me before and after and cleaned her up.” Jen moved a little to get a better look at me and placed her left her hand on the sofa. I moved my hand closer. “I’ve never dated a woman away from her husband,” I said. “It just didn’t come up. If I did that it would be like us here today, with his knowledge. It just hasn’t come up.” “So, you’ll do it that way?” Jen asked. “If that’s what we work out, but it’s not my preference.” “What’s your preference, Dave,” Jen asked. “If we were to date, to have a relationship, I would want to meet you here with Pete present. If not, meet her and he is gone. Or I come over and he leaves. That might appeal to him as much as you going out.” “Why not go out?” “Well, for one thing getting a room is an expense. I’m happy to pay my share. A nice room will be seventy-five or a hundred each. It takes time and there is a paper trail. You will feel safe in your own home. Pete gets to experience the feeling of leaving you behind with me. There are little things we can do if he is at work. You can call or text, ‘Dave is here.’ ‘Dave just left.’ How does that sound?” “It could work,” Jen said. Pete stared at his glass. “This is all new to you and we will go slow. I don’t even know if you find me attractive. I am older.” “No,” Jen said, “that’s fine. You are a good looking man.” “Old guys always like to hear that.” We all smiled. “Pete,” I asked, “what are your concerns? “I’m nervous,” he said, “excited, worried.” “Tell me what you are worried about?” “Well, could this end our marriage? We have a daughter and it would get complicated with family.” “It’s always complicated, but let’s walk through this,” I said. “The biggest complaint I’ve heard from couples is how a single man falls for the wife and tries to take her away. I’m married so that’s not a risk. In my experience the magic lies in communication ahead of time, in setting boundaries, and respecting the boundaries. That’s all foreplay. I think it’s OK for people to have feelings for each other, in fact, that’s wonderful. As long as we agree on the boundaries, it will work. Who says Jen can’t have two lovers, two husbands even? That’s polyamory. I’m not suggesting that here, but human emotions and relationships are complex and a marriage is whatever the parties decide it is. It’s complex and it’s never static. Things can evolve.” I extended my hand toward Jen’s hand and her wedding rings until our fingertips were inches apart. She kept her hand right where it was. “I will honor all the boundaries you set,” I said, “and no always means no. If at any time, you want me to leave or stop or go away, I will do it. That’s another thing about a mature man with experience. I come with respect for each of your and for your marriage.” Pete licked his lips and asked, “How would this work?” “First,” I said, “I need to hear from you and from Jen that you have agreed to non-monogamy, to swinging. Usually swinging means the couple meets other couples and they soft swap, or full swap, or same room swap, or different room swap.” “What’s the difference?” Jen asked finally joining the conversation. “Soft swap is that the people play around with the other spouse short of intercourse. There are lots of gradations, but no intercourse except between spouses. Full swap is everything, intercourse with the other spouse. Those arrangements between two couples are tricky. The men have to like the other women, the men have to like each other, the women have to like the men, and the women have to like each other. One mismatch and things don’t click. People will still play, but one partner doesn’t have a good time and comes away disappointed and even angry. So, it’s tricky. When it happens, I’ve heard it’s wonderful. My hunch is that couples who get along generally always get along in all parts of their lives.” “They are all in the same room?” Jen asked. “That’s same room swap, the partners like seeing each other playing. That would seem to me to be distracting. You have your own pleasure, your partner’s pleasure, and your spouse’s pleasure. That’s a lot to keep track of and easy to miss something you want to remember. I think that’s why couples often pair off into different rooms where there are beds available. That’s swinging.” “What do you call this?” Jen asked. “This is just drinks with new friends, but if we got together it’s hotwifing. You are the hotwife. They call the man the bull, but I don’t care for that. They call the husband the stag or the cuckold. I hate terms like that.” “Why?” Jen wanted to know. “It just puts people in a box and it might not always be a fit. Some guys I met liked the labels. I tend not to use them. To me it’s the husband and the wife and the man.” Jen surprised me by pushing her hand across the sofa and touching my fingers. “Yes, I’d like to hold hands with you, Jen,” I said and slid over next to her. I put down my beer so I could take her hand in both of mine. Her eyes picked up the warmth of her smile, a warmth that said to me, I’m glad you’re here. Pete groaned a little. “Is this OK, Pete?” I asked. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Oh yes.” He squirmed to give his erection some room and looked like he might crush his wine glass. “Jen,” I said, “may I kiss you?” “Sure.” She leaned over and our lips met, awkward at first, but in an instant we found our places in each other then leaned back. She took a deep breath. I had a chance to peek down the top of her dress, sweet, not slutty. “Put down your glass,” I said and she complied. I reached up and touched her cheek softly to bring her close again. We kissed this time with the passion of lovers. Did I say I love to neck? Since the pill and the sexual revolution, necking gets short shrift. Sure, people will kiss as part of foreplay, but that soon devolves into oral and intercourse in all the exotic, acrobatic, cinematic, photogenic, scenic permutations. How about kissing for its own sake? There are so many advantages. First, you can do it with your clothes on. There is no fumbling with buttons—not to dismiss the excitement of buttons and zippers. Who invented bra hooks, some evil prude? I could go on. How about just kissing, being close, touching, enjoying being touched? I like to neck. Jen was great at necking. She offered her lips and took mine. Our tongues found each other like horny snakes writhing and twisting. I kissed her eyes, I kissed her forehead, I kissed her neck, I kissed her hand, I kissed her mouth again. Another nice thing about kissing is that you can do it for hours unlike more direct forms of congress where climax looms and threatens ecstasy, and an end. There is no end to kissing except exhaustion. Jen tasted good and she smelled good, fresh soap on smooth skin. Diamond studs sparkled from her ear lobes. A delicate chain carried a heart and tiny diamond chips. “Are you doing OK there Pete?” “Yeah, do you want to take her out?” “That’s up to her. I’d like to stay here if that’s OK. We seem to have something going here. But I’m not in a hurry. Are you in a hurry, Jen?” “No, not too much.” “Let’s go slow,” I said, “Let’s finish our drinks. I have some questions.” “Like what?” “Like protection.” “Oh,” Jen said and reached for her glass. “I’ve been tested,” I said, “and I don’t mind condoms, but we need to agree. I know you probably don’t like them. It’s the women who seem to object. If things don’t work out between us everyone is safe and you can move on. If things do work out I have a proposal.” “What’s that?” she said. “If we really become friends with benefits or whatever, I propose that the three of us go get tested together. When we get the results back we can skip. We three just have to agree to be safe if we see anyone else.” “I won’t see anyone else,” Jen said. “Life happens, Jen. You are free to see anyone you want. That’s between you and Pete. But we have to be adults about this. Trust my experience in this.” “OK.” “When the results come back we can schedule something special. Maybe a dinner in a nice hotel then you and I go upstairs. We could have Pete fix the room and leave. Or he could stay.” “Wow,” Pete said and finished his wine. I got my glass, took a sip, and put it down again. I wanted my hands free. Jen pulled my hand into her lap. I leaned into her and she responded. Our lips locked and I luxuriated in her closeness. I broke my hand free of her lovely lap and touched her bare arm. She took another deep breath. I reached across to her hip. Because of the sofa I had just my left hand, but that was enough for now. I felt the edge of her panties under the light dress. I wanted her to have permission to touch me so I took her free hand and pulled it to my face. I returned to her hip brushing the top of her thigh on the way. Her knees parted. We necked and touched and licked and kissed and caressed and licked for I don’t know how long, long enough for Pete to finish another wine. “Maybe I should leave you two alone,” he said. “Jen?” I asked. “Yes,” she said and straightened up. It was time to talk some more. I’m a straight talk kind of guy and insist on good clear communication. Good communication is the ultimate intimacy. “OK,” he said, “how long?” “A few hours I should think,” I said. “Are you interested in some role play?” Both tensed up. Who is this guy? They asked themselves. “Just some words,” I said. “You know I am a writer, an author. Rather than just have Pete leave us to ourselves, maybe we could make a little ritual out of it, a little ceremony? “You mentioned the idea of a ceremony,” Pete said. “I didn’t tell you about that, Jen.” “No you did not,” she said. “Let me show you,” I said. “If this turns you off, we have another boundary. I will not try to cross it. I thought this was something Pete might enjoy. Here.” I pulled three index cards out of my pocket and gave one to each of them. Jen was no longer in a necking mood and I worried that this thing was at an end. But she took her card and read. Pete read his card. I sipped beer and waited. Jen’s lips loosened and eased into a smile. “This is kind of cool,” she said keeping her eyes on the card. “You wrote this?” She moved a hand to my leg. “A thing of mine. Another kind of foreplay. It’s OK?” “Yeah, it’s kind of cool. What do you think, Honey?” “He showed me some of these before.” “Part of my stories,” I said. “If Pete was going to leave, we could read these to each other,” I said. “Wow,” Pete said. “Hmm,” Jen said as she kept reading. I said nothing. “We could try it. What do we do?” “First some boundaries,” I said. “Pete can leave for three hours. Or until you call him. You and I will be alone. What happens is up to you, up to us. We can read these before he leaves.” “Sure,” Jen said. “This is kind of cool. What do we do?” “Let’s stand up.” We moved to an open space each of us with our index card. “Let’s start with Pete. Go ahead and read from the card. Go slow.” Pete coughed and began.

“Desire between two people is a beautiful thing and has inspired the universe since the beginning of time. As we mature has humans we realize that desire between two people can be respect and affection between three people and that is what we celebrate now. We friends are gathered tonight to announce Jen’s and my freedom as sexual beings each with rights and responsibilities whose deep love and respect allows them to bring into our marriage Dave whom we both admire, trust, and care for, who I want to be in Jen’s life, and who Jen wants to have in her life. I want good things for Jen, and Dave is a good man. By the same token, Dave admires and respects both me and Jen and further respects our marriage and our devotion to each other. He wants good things for both of us and each of us. Dave and I and Jen desire to take this desire and respect and trust to the next level and allow Jen and Dave to become a couple, to share desire, lust, adventure and passion and to generate energy and goodness that compliments our marriage. Our ceremony here today is to acknowledge and celebrate the new relationship between Jen and Dave and specifically for me to make a formal gift of my loving wife and her boundless sexuality to Dave as a friend and a lover and for Dave to receive Jen into his arms and into his heart.”

“Wow,” Pete said. I read from my card.

“Pete, I gratefully accept from you the gift of Jen and her love, as a token of your respect and love for Jen as a free and sexual being with rights and responsibilities. I further pledge to honor and respect Jen, to be her friend and lover, to satisfy her sexual, emotional, spiritual and intellectual needs, to fulfill her fantasies and desires and to return her to you as a better person and lover and wife. I will accept her into my heart and always respect her place as first in your heart as I know you will trust me to leave you first in her heart.”

“Jen, please accept me as your friend and lover. I take you into my heart and I pledge to respect you as a free sexual being with rights and responsibilities, to satisfy your sexual, emotional and intellectual needs and to fulfill your fantasies and desires. I further pledge to respect your place as first in Pete’s heart. What joy you and I share will only enhance the joy you share with Pete. You are free to share with Pete everything about our relationship and I know that energy and passion will only make your own love grow.”

“Now Jen, you read,” I said. Jen looked at the card for a moment and started.

“Pete, you are first in my heart as I know I am first in your heart. I am joyful that you love and respect me as a free and sexual being with rights and responsibilities and love me enough to bring Dave into my life as my friend and lover. As he comes into my life, he will come into yours as well. I consent freely and willingly to have my love and my body gifted from you to Dave, without reservation, and will honor you by being a giving and passionate lover for Dave, to satisfy his sexual, emotional, and intellectual needs and to fulfill his fantasies and desires responsibly. What I enjoy with Dave will only enhance the joy I share with you. I look forward to sharing with you my memories of passion with Dave and learning from you how I can bring that energy and passion home to you. I pledge to always remain first in your heart.”

“Dave, please accept me as your friend and lover. I pledge to honor and respect you, to be your friend and lover, to satisfy your sexual, emotional, and intellectual needs, and fulfill your fantasies and desires responsibly, to return your love with passion, to respect your privacy and your boundaries, and to make you first in my heart save for Pete.”

The only noise came from the walls of the house. I took control. “Three hours, Pete,” I said. “Oh, uh, OK.” He fished in his jeans for keys and looked at Jen. “Go ahead, kiss her,” “I love you, Jen,” he said and kissed his wife. “I love you too, Pete.” He turned and left. The car started.

END