We didn’t do it too often. Swinging was a treat. Something Sharon and I waited to savor. Since it was a rare event, the experience was all the more sweet and exciting — which is the reason we only indulged in it from time to time.

But recently it seemed like we were on the cusp of one of those special occasions. We had met another married couple — Glen and Vicky. Our new friends were a handsome pair, very amiable and fun to be around. They also gave off a certain vibe, which is hard to describe.

There was something in their manner, in the easy way they had with each other and those around them. Vicky radiated confident sexuality, while Glen was a casual flirt. The fact that he made sly comments to other women in front of Vicky said something. That Vicky obviously didn’t mind his flirting said something even more telling.

“What did you think of that guy Glen?” I asked Sharon after the first time we’d met him and his wife.

Sharon was undressing for bed. She tossed aside her top, grinned at me and ran her hands over her breasts. I watched her nipples engorge and felt my passion stirring down below. In all our years of marriage, Sharon has never failed to excite me.

“I liked him,” she said, as she dropped her skirt and peeled off her panties.

I got out of my own clothes. Then I asked in a hoarse voice, “You want to fuck him?”

Sharon eyed my rising cock while she responded, “Yes. What about Vicky? Would you like to bone her?” She slipped a hand between her legs, grazing her dampening groove with knowing fingers.

“Yeah,” I panted. “Right now, though, I want to fuck you.”

The bliss of married life.

Vicky and Glen became part of our social orbit, and we saw them regularly. That gave us plenty of chances to sound them out and determine if they were of our own persuasion with regard to extramarital shenanigans.

We didn’t rush it. That was actually part of the fun, the slow circling, looking for clues. When I interacted with Vicky, I enjoyed her casual touches — shoulder squeezes, the soft trailing of her fingertips down my forearm. I noted the promising gleam in her eyes when she looked at me.

Sharon reported similar successes with Glen, whose flirting intensified noticeably when he was dealing with her. Soon, it would be time to put our cards on the table, to make the proposal to our new friends. Hopefully we hadn’t badly misread the situation. I liked both of them and didn’t want to spook them out of our lives, no matter how everything played out.

We took them out to dinner at a nice, quiet restaurant. Sharon was the one who actually put it out there, in gentle but unmistakable terms. I held my breath. That, too, was a part of the fun, that roller coaster thrill — the final moment of anticipation.

Glen and Vicky looked at each other, then across the table at us. Vicky broke into a bright smile and said, “We were hoping this was where things were going.”

Glen chimed in, “We’ve been talking about you two for weeks.”

“So,” I said, as a shivery tension worked through me, “it’s a yes, then?”

It was indeed a yes.

Following all of our drawn-out preliminaries, the moment suddenly felt incredibly urgent. We decided to commence with the festivities that night. Why waste any more time? We hastily got the check and scrambled out of the restaurant. I would take Vicky back to our place, and Glen would spirit Sharon off to his marital home.

At the curb, I glanced back to see Glen and Sharon pausing at the door of his car for a sloppy kiss. I saw my wife’s tongue flashing against his. The vision sent tingling joy coursing through me. It was a unique kind of pleasure.

Sharon and I swung for variety, yes. It was fun — and probably healthy — to mix it up now and then, to take on a new sex partner. Certainly our personal bedroom antics had stayed strong over the years. But it was also arousing to know your partner was fooling around at the same time you were. Another man was going to fuck my spouse. She was going to have his cock in her and probably come like gangbusters, as was her wont. And she would know all the while that I was stroking into another woman’s pussy. It made for a delicious thrill.

During my car ride with Vicky, she had her hand on my leg, and it soon drifted up my thigh. I drove faster, but she was groping my crotch before we pulled into my driveway. My cock was throbbing, and desire made my head swim.

We went in and headed straight for the bedroom. I heard Vicky murmuring behind me. But my pulse was pounding in my eardrums, so I didn’t pick up her words until we were at the foot of the bed, stripping out of our clothing.

She seemed to be recounting some kind of sexy narrative.

Vicky said, “Then he got naked, and his big cock was standing tall, and I couldn’t wait to touch it, to taste it.”

My cock was indeed ramrod straight, and I was ogling her gorgeous nude body, eager to kiss her, touch her tits and lick her pussy. But I paused and asked, “Uh, who’re you talking to?”

She replied, “Sorry. I always tell Glen everything after I’m with another man. I try to make the stories as exciting as possible, and sometimes I talk about it while it’s happening. It helps me remember the details. If it weirds you out, I’ll stop.”

Well, this was a phenomenon I hadn’t encountered before. But that’s part of the sweet variety that comes with swinging.

I pulled her into my arms and told her, “Do whatever you’d like.”

We kissed voraciously, our tongues swirling and mouths mashing together. Quickly, we got onto the bed.

Her body was soft and lush. I liked the smooth texture of her skin. My hands roamed over her figure. I squeezed one of her tits, finding the nipple stiff and ready. She groped a handful of my ass. When our kiss broke, she panted, “I grabbed his ass. It was firm, like his whole hunky body.”

She was indeed narrating us. Far from weirding me out, it further turned me on. It was like she was memorializing the event as it happened, giving it a new perspective in real time.

I tweaked her elongated nipple, and she described the pleasure that went through her body. I licked her throat and moved down to suck on her tits, and she rhapsodized out loud about the wonders of my talented tongue.

I moved down between her legs, partly because I was desperate to taste her pussy — but also because I wanted to hear how she’d describe it.

“Oh, then he put his head between my thighs. I opened wide for him. I couldn’t wait to feel his tongue. He — aah! — he licked my outer lips,” she panted. “I was so wet for him. I felt his hot breath on my cunt. Then he put his tongue inside. Ooh! I watched while he ate me. My clit was humming, ready for him and he, he — ”

I did indeed slaver my tongue all over her swollen clit. Her hips jerked, and she humped her pussy against my face. Her juices flowed, and she depicted her climax in a series of high, shrieking words. Eventually I sat up, panting, my chin slick with her honey.

Then Vicky said, “After I came, I wanted to suck his cock so badly.”

The narration paused, naturally, as she stuffed my cock into her mouth. But as I lay back, I could almost hear the words she would recount to her husband later on. She would go into pornographic detail, telling him how she swirled her tongue over my cockhead. How she sealed her lips around me and dropped her mouth all the way down my veiny shaft. How she took my knob into her throat with enthusiasm.

This would become another cherished memory for me. I knew Sharon relished the erotic adventures she’d been on since we had gotten married. But having Vicky relate every bit of our coupling to Glen meant this delightful sex session would have a life of its own. It would endure in the minds of both Vicky and her husband.

This realization was adrift on the sea of pleasure currently engulfing me. Vicky was a skilled cocksucker. I was almost tempted to ask if I could come in her mouth, but there was more for us to do. And, frankly, I wanted to hear her describe it all.

“I had the taste of his cock in my mouth as he got ready to climb on top of me. I lay back, pulling my knees up toward my shoulders, spreading, wanting to feel him deep,” she said. “He loomed over me with his eyes dancing. I — ooh! — gasped as he put his cock into me. The pleasure was intense as he gave me that first long stroke. He drove all the way in. I felt him bottoming me out. His firm body pressed down on mine. He went at me with a slow, steady rhythm. His — fuck! — his cock was so big.”

The flattery didn’t hurt. I felt like a porn star as I boned her. Her wet pussy grasped me lusciously. I picked up speed, watching pleasure swarm over her body — even as she continued to spew her lovely, nasty words.

Suddenly, her snatch tightened around me, and her whole body shuddered in blissful release. In the immediate afterglow, I took the opportunity to flip her onto her belly. I drove into her from behind, and to hear her tell it, it was a sweet variation on a wonderful theme.

She had her head turned to the side, so the pillow wouldn’t muffle her discourse. I was soon fucking her even faster. Ecstasy had a real hold of me. She writhed beneath me, describing how exciting it was to be pinned to the bed, feeling my powerful thrusts.

“Then it happened again, another wild climax building, building — Ah, fuck! Glen, he took me over the top,” she said on a sigh. “I wanted him to come. I wanted to feel him shoot. I wanted, wanted — to have him pull out and spray his jizz all over my ass and up my back!”

I knew a request when I heard it. I was right on the brink. I delivered two more pounding strokes into her, then I reared up, and my cream went spewing. My white stripes were laid hot across the twin mounds of her lush ass. I spunked up her back, leaving gooey splatters everywhere.

She narrated each jet. I hoped Glen would enjoy hearing the tale as much as I had helping create it!