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Converts

I’d never even heard of a sex cub: I had no idea that such a thing could even exist. So when my wife came home from her regular massage and told me that her masseuse was divorcing her husband because he had been visiting one regularly—without her—I was blown away by the idea. We both were. Like most couples we had sometimes fantasized about involving others in our sex life, but that was all it was: fun to think about, but surely impossible in the real world. Of course we had both experienced one night stands during our dating life before we were married, but the idea of a place where people met with the intention of doing that seemed incredible. We had been to nude beaches and enjoyed looking at the tanned bodies, and, if we were being honest, liked being looked at naked. In our early 40s, we were in pretty good shape and still had a healthy appetite for sex and desire for each other, but after fifteen years of marriage and a couple of kids, fantasy had begun to creep into our sex life. Renting porno movies didn’t do it for us: the situations were so fake, and we found the close ups of human plumbing the opposite of exciting. Our imaginations turned out to be infinitely better.

I have to admit that the fantasizing had started with me. I loved looking at her naked so much that it seemed natural to imagine other men enjoying it as much as I did: it became exciting for me. It soon seemed equally natural to imagine men acting on that attraction while I watched. I later found out that this is a very common fantasy of husbands—in fact, probably the most popular—but at the time it felt edgy and to be honest, weirded me out a bit. Did I really want someone else to touch my wife? Would I love it or hate it if it actually happened? Would I be turned on or devoured by the Green Monster?

It took a while for me to confess my fantasies to Jane, but one evening, when the kids were in bed and after a couple of glasses of wine, we recognised that glint in each other’s eyes, turned off the TV and headed upstairs. I undressed her slowly and sensuously, kissing the newly revealed skin, and then stepped back to admire the view. She looked stunning in the candlelight, and I found my imagination kicking into overdrive. I don’t know whether it was the look on my face, or the synchronicity that couples develop where they can sometimes read each other’s minds, but somehow Jane knew that a picture was developing in my mind. She said, with an intrigued grin, “you’re having wicked thoughts, aren’t you?” For a split second I considered trying to deny it with something gallant like ‘how could I be thinking about anything else when you’re naked front of me?’ Instead, I decided to be honest. That decision changed our lives.

“Yes,” I said, and reached out to touch her breasts. “Very wicked.” She looked deep into my eyes, the grin still on her face. “Care to share?” I paused: this was the moment I had been both looking forward to and shying away from. I was about to confess that I was imagining another man caressing her breasts, and more, that she was enjoying it. Would she think it weird of me? Would she think I was accusing her of wanting to be unfaithful? There were a million bad ways this conversation could go, all of which would ruin the sexy mood that was developing. I gently caressed her right nipple with my thumb and forefinger, something which, if I timed it right, would take her to the next level of excitement. “Do you remember when we were on the nude beach last summer?” She nodded. I had timed it right. “There was that incredibly tanned guy that kept on adjusting his towel to get closer to us so he could ogle you?” She nodded, and I tweaked again, the other nipple this time. There was a sharp intake of breath as she closed her eyes. “I was just thinking that it might have been fun if he had come over right next to us.” My hand caressed downwards on the soft skin of her stomach. She was silent for a couple of seconds. “And?” This was it: turn back now and the moment might never come again, I thought. I leaned forward and kissed her on the neck just at the sweet spot under her earlobe and whispered “I was thinking you would have enjoyed him doing what I am doing right now.” I took both nipples between thumb and forefinger and squeezed a little harder.

“Mmmm…” Another intake of breath. “What would you be doing?” That caught me by surprise: of the many responses I was prepared for, that wasn’t one of them. She hadn’t immediately angrily rejected the idea, which was good, but she hadn’t told me how she felt about it. She must have known where I was going with this, but was keeping an open mind. I needed to lead her as gently as possible, allowing the picture I was describing to slowly seduce her. “Watching, and wondering whether you liked it,” I replied. Pause. “Hoping that you were liking it.” There it was. I had just told my wife that I was fantasizing about her enjoying another man touching her intimately. I lowered my head and ran my tongue over her nipple. Her tilted back a little in pleasure, which told me she was there with me, in the imaginary situation I was creating. “Would you like him to do that?” she asked. I kissed the other while running my thumb over the first. “Would you?” I shot back. She paused again, then whispered, almost inaudibly, “yes.” I kissed her nipple again, and then she surprised me. “Would it turn you on to watch?” she asked, getting a little breathless. I threw caution to the winds. “My God, yes!” and to demonstrate how much, I let my hand wander lower and discovered a silky wetness. “It looks like she agrees,” I said with a relieved smile. I picked her up, she wrapped her legs around my back and we moved towards the bed. We made love that night as we hadn’t in a while, at first hungrily, with heightened responses, and then more slowly and intimately. We fell asleep very contented.

Life got busy, and we didn’t have the chance to talk about our conversation for several days. To be honest, I was a little embarrassed and was not eager to bring it up, especially as I had come to realize over the years we had been together that Jane was a ‘slow burner’ who needed time to process things. It must have been the next weekend over coffee that she brought up the subject again. The kids were at a play date on the other side of town: it was the first time we’d had the place to ourselves. She sat down at the breakfast table and smiled a little shyly. “That was pretty wild the other night…” I grinned, and took a sip of coffee, but didn’t say anything, not sure where she was going. “Would you really want that to happen?” I thought about it. “I think it could be incredibly exciting,” I replied. “Have you been thinking about this for a long time?” she continued, probing. “I don’t know. I do remember thinking that I should have been pissed with the guy ogling you so openly, but I wasn’t. I was proud to be married to someone who guys like to ogle. Then I thought about all the things he probably wanted to do to you, and I realised it didn’t make me angry either.” I should have expected her response: “Well of course he was thinking that. He’s a guy!” We both laughed. “It’s what you all do.” I nodded to acknowledge the point, but she suddenly became serious. “My question is, would you want me to do that?”

That was indeed the question. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “But, to my surprise, I enjoy thinking about it.” It was true, I was shocked at myself: I would never had guessed that I could be having this conversation with my life partner. “For some reason, it just turns me on.” I paused. “How about you?” I asked. She hesitated. “Fantasy, or real world?” she asked eventually. I took another long swig of coffee. “Real world,” I replied expecting an immediate “hell, no!” But it didn’t come. Instead, she said “If it ever happened, and I’m not saying it ever will, but if it did, I’d be afraid you’d think I was being unfaithful.” She looked away. “Or a slut, or something…” I put my coffee cup down in amazement. Was she was actually thinking about it? I chose my next words very carefully. “I’d never think that! It wouldn’t be something you were doing to me, but something we were doing together.” She was quiet for a couple of moments. “I also wouldn’t want you to think that I wasn’t satisfied by you, that I needed someone else, because that’s just not the case.” I decided to lighten the mood. “I’m relieved to hear it!” I said, but continued more seriously “but I meant what I said, we’d be doing it together.” She looked uncertain. “Would you join in?” she asked, still needing reassurance. “You’d better believe it!” I got up from the table, took her head between my hands and kissed her. I was about to continue with my reassurances when the telephone rang and we were dragged back into the daily grind. But over the next couple of months the fantasy began to creep more and more into our love making, and sometimes it wasn’t me initiating it.

And that was how we found ourselves in a hotel room in the nearby city, preparing for our first visit to a sex club. I had located the club her masseuse was talking about on the internet. My first visit to their website left me slack-jawed in amazement: play areas, semi-private and private rooms, couches, massage tables and everywhere discreet containers of condoms. The club promised anonymity and privacy, and a zero tolerance policy for drugs and disrespectful behavior. It looked legit, the rooms clean and nicely kept up. I paid for a temporary membership, booked a date for our visit and arranged for the kids to be with her parents for the weekend.

I waited in the hotel bar while Jane got ready and ordered a taxi. When she stepped into the room she took my breath away, carefully made up and wearing a new, clinging ‘little black dress’ that was both classy and suggestive. She looked perfect. Of course heads turned, and it wasn’t just the men who devoured her with their eyes as she walked towards me, but she seemed unaware of the attention. I tried to be suave, took her hand and kissed it, saying “drink?”, but Jane knew me well enough to realise that I was both bursting with pride and shaking with nerves. I think we both were, as we had studiously avoided talking about the upcoming evening all day. The taxi arrived just as we were finishing our drinks, and, as we approached, the driver took one look at Jane and rushed to get out of the cab to open the door for her. I noticed that she didn’t immediately pull her short dress down as she got in, ensuring that he got a good look at her long legs before he closed the door. She was as excited as I was!

As it was our first visit, we had been asked to get to the club early for a tour before the crowds arrived. It confirmed my impression that it was indeed clean and well appointed, with a friendly bar tender and attentive staff. Jane’s eyes widened as mine had when she saw the different rooms and I could see the possibilities running through her head. We grabbed a drink and went to the dance floor. We danced a little, and then sat out and watched. There were some couples, mostly about our age, and quite a few single guys, which, I understood, was to be expected. I could see Jane assessing some of them, and wondered if there were any she was attracted to. We hadn’t talked about what we would actually do when we got here, so I was glad to see that some of the scenarios we had fantasized about in the safety of our bedroom seemed to be on her mind. It took a while for the club to fill up, and we were a couple of drinks in before things began to liven up a little. I needed to use the rest room, and suggested to Jane that I would join her on the dance floor when I returned.

I decided to hang back a little and watch her dance. Having seen the reaction she got our hotel bar, I could only imagine the kind of attention she would get in this environment! It took me a while to locate her, and I wasn’t disappointed: she was in her element: her body was responding to the music in a way that oozed sexuality. It had not gone unnoticed. She was dancing with a younger couple and a couple of single guys, who seemed to know each other: there was laughter and flirting and they were all having a great time. Eventually the couple took a break which left Jane dancing with the two guys. I sat at the bar and watched, torn between pride and excitement. Gradually they started dancing closer and closer to her, touching her bare arms as they went past, or brushing against her breasts. As the music slowed, one of them slowly circled her buttocks with hands and pulled him towards her. At first she laughed and pulled away, but the second time she allowed him to, and they danced close to each other. I thought the second guy would leave them to it at that point, and I was about to step on to the dance floor to join her when the song changed and he turned Jane round to face him, and invited her into his arms to dance with him as she had been with Number One. To my surprise she accepted immediately and soon they were dancing pelvis to pelvis, with the Number One closing in behind. This was a development that I hadn’t expected—we had never talked about this situation, but I could see that Jane was in the moment and having a great time. I stepped on to the dance floor and stood nearby where she would see me. She extracted herself from the guys and came over, looking a bit worried. Strangely, I was feeling no jealousy and reassured her that everything was fine. And as we danced, I told her that if she wanted, she should go back and continue dancing with them. I would stay nearby in case she needed me. She looked me in the eye, kissed me passionately, and moved off across the dance floor.

Before long, they were back where they had been, close dancing with Jane in the middle, facing first one then the other. I don’t remember which one it was first put a hand underneath the spaghetti straps to feel her breasts, but soon her dress top was pulled down and they were swinging free as Jane raised her hands above her head, dancing with abandon. Since by this time there were several topless women on the dance floor, no-one else was shocked, but I was so taken aback that I stopped dancing and went to sit at one of the tables by the dance floor. This was the moment we had fantasized about, happening before my very eyes. I was frozen to the spot in a mixture of terror and arousal. I watched fascinated as Number Two bent down and kissed her breasts while they danced, and from behind Number One moved his hands under the short dress. I knew he would find no underwear to impede his exploration and I closed my eyes, imagining exactly what he was finding there. I also knew that both men would by now be as hard as I was.

When I opened my eyes Jane was kissing Number One and Number Two had her breasts in both hands, squeezing and playing with her nipples. The three had stopped any pretense of dancing to the music, but were instead responding to their own rhythm of seduction. When I saw Jane turn round and reach for Number Two’s belt, I realised both that there was only one goal for their pent up energy and that it was exactly what I wanted to happen. Number Two put his hands on hers to stop her undoing his belt and I saw her hand move down and squeeze the front of his pants. Saw was truly in the zone! When he motioned to her that they should leave the dance floor, I followed as they headed for one of the semi-private rooms that we had seen on our tour. Fortunately one was free, and they went in, leaving the door open, but hanging a red rope across the doorway. That was the signal in this club that they wanted to be watched, but no-one could enter unless invited. Jane knew I would want to watch what was about to happen. I didn’t know how far she would let things go, but I was as turned on as I had even been.

Right away she surprised me. She wouldn’t let them undress her. She had pulled her top back up so as not to walk through the club naked, but now she made them sit on the bed and wouldn’t allow them to touch her while she slowly undressed herself, pulling the dress up over her head. When she was fully naked, she sat on Number One’s lap and kissed him passionately, only stopping to tell Number Two not to touch her yet. He looked a little crestfallen at first, until she got up and sat on his lap, unbuttoning his shirt while she kissed him. Quite a crowd had developed outside the room by now, enjoying the show that was being put on for them. Number One undressed himself while she was kissing Number Two and came and stood behind her: he was very erect and a good deal larger than me. When she had finished kissing Number Two, she turned round and took him in her hand and said something I couldn’t hear. My head nearly exploded: there was my wife naked in a room with two strangers, a strange cock in her hand that she was slowly but rhythmically stroking. I recognised that motion and knew exactly how it felt. By now Number Two had also undressed and presented himself to her, equally erect, but closer to mine in size, and soon it filled her other hand. I almost gasped as she bent down a little and took it in her mouth. He groaned with pleasure and started swaying gently, rocking in and out of her mouth.

Then Number One took charge, and gently pushed her down on to the bed so his tongue could explore her. I knew that taste so well, and could imagine exactly where her favorite spots were, and hoped he could find them. In a sort of naked ballet, Number Two’s penis never left her mouth as she changed position, and his motions only stopped as she opened her mouth wider to groan in pleasure as the tongue delved deeper and her excitement grew. Just as I thought Number Two could bear it no longer, they switched position and I watched as Number One’s large cock finally disappeared into Jane’s mouth while Number Two lapped away. The two men seemed so well co-ordinated that I began to wonder if they had double teamed a woman before. Just as Jane could not take any more of him into her mouth, our eyes met. She pulled back and began stroking him, while looking at me intently. I knew exactly what that look meant: how far do you want this to go? But before I could formulate a reply she threw her head back and gave a series of loud groans: Number Two had found her favorite spot and she was coming hard and long. Rather than forgetting about Number One in her ecstasy, she began stroking faster and faster until her groans were matched by louder, masculine ones has he exploded onto her chest. As she shuddered with her own aftershocks, she took him in her mouth again as his spasms subsided.

At this point, I could bear it no longer. Even though it was a breach of protocol, I stepped over the rope and into the room. Number Two reacted first: “What the fuck, man?” and I raised my hands in a placatory gesture just as Jane said “he’s my husband.” Looking back on it, I realize now that neither man looked the least surprised, but at the time all I was aware of was a strange kind of camaraderie among three men who were totally overwhelmed by lust for the same woman. Depleted, Number One stepped back, and Number Two, his task complete, sat up. Both men waited to see what I would do. Jane broke the silence. “Come here” she said and grabbed my belt. “I want you inside me - NOW”. She was flushed from her exertions and I could see Number One’s semen all over her chest. I took my clothes off and kissed her. “Wow!” and “You are amazing!” was all I could manage between the deepest kisses we had ever shared. “She really is,” said Number One, and Number Two moved out of the way, so I could position myself between her open legs. But before I entered her, I wanted my tongue to taste her as he had, to know that my tongue was where his had just been. I found it intoxicating. She was still engorged from his attentions, so I blew on her clitoris before gently taking it into my mouth. She loved this, and her hips began that motion I love so much. Judging the moment to be right, I began to maneuver myself so I could enter her, and looked up to see Number Two kneeling on the bed next to her head as she took him in her mouth. Far from being put out, it just seemed to me to be the natural progression: it was beyond the wildest of our fantasies, but exactly what we both wanted at that moment. I delayed going inside her for a few moments while I watched in fascination as her mouth enveloped him and her tongue flicked over the head of his cock. I began toying with her, going in about half an inch and then withdrawing, again and again until Jane was going insane. When at long last I slipped slowly inside her, she let out an almost animal grunt of pleasure. This was what all our fantasies had been about, what they had been leading up to. We were the center of it, why it was happening. Every part of the experience was an extension of us, whoever’s body it was attached to. As I thrust into her she sucked more greedily on him and he was breathing more and more heavily. Jane’s hips began to push back against me in a way that I knew meant that she was going to come again, and as if he understood how her body was reacting, Number One leaned over and started playing with and kissing her breasts. By this time I was incapable of thought: it was as if Jane and I were joined at the subatomic level. Her pleasure was my pleasure, my pleasure was hers and our two companions blurred into one multi-limbed extension of our lust for each other as we coalesced in wave after incredible wave.

When it was over, exhaustion set in, but no embarrassment. We thanked the two guys, whose names we never found out, they left and shut the door behind them, leaving us alone, sated and shell shocked. Did that really just happen? We looked at each other and shook our heads in disbelief. Did we really just do that? I don’t remember much about the rest of the evening, the trip back to our hotel, the deep, deep sleep, going back to pick up the kids from her parents, you know, the normal stuff. But the experience did help me remember two thing: the normal stuff is wonderful, and with the right person by your side, almost anything is possible.

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