The world’s a weird place, isn’t it?
Anyway, we’ve always been swingers. He’s the balding accountant (no, really) and I’m the hotwife who sleeps with all of his friends – whether he’s watching or not. The secrets to a happy marriage are to find someone who’s not afraid of rolling up their sleeves and getting shit done when they need to, and who’s exactly as filthy-minded as you are.
The point is, my sex life is not boring. My sex life is probably light years ahead of yours – or maybe it’s not. I don’t know your life. But I do know mine.
I got pregnant for a second time with my first child, Teagan, who was named by his Dad because there was no way the family tradition of handing down the name ‘Albert’ was going to stick. I don’t think Al’s Dad ever forgave him for that.
Anyway, apart from all of the sex, giving birth to my second child (a girl I named Tara, just because I liked how it looked next to Teagan) and several failed attempts at picking up part-time work (stripper, prostitute, child care worker, chemical analyst and so on), the next couple of decades aren’t…
Well, no, they were interesting. But they weren’t all that relevant to this story.
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I suppose the really interesting stuff started a few days after Teagan’s twenty-second birthday.
Usually, on Wednesdays, Al and I have a date night. It gives the term ‘Hump Day’ a different dimension and it makes the mid-week something for all of us to look forward to – Al and I because we go out for the night, Teagan and Tara because… Well, because we go out for the night. We’re not the kind of parents who only have sex once in a blue moon, and even though I’ve learned to hold it in (for the most part) I’m naturally a screamer. Nobody’s kidding ourselves that the kids can’t hear us fucking some nights.
Al’s supposed to put soundproofing on the bedroom walls but he never seems to get around to it. I think I’m just going to ask Teagan to do it, especially since I’ve started fucking him anyway.
Anyway, this is all prior to that. It was Wednesday and I got a text.
:: Georgia – won’t make it tonight, sorry ::
My name is Georgia, by the way. It suddenly occurred to me I hadn’t mentioned that. Al never abbreviates it or uses a pet name for me, either – something about the phonetics gets him hot and I’m fine with that. It feels good to be relished.
Anyway, I was… Let’s say ‘disappointed.’ So I put down my vibrator, dried off my hands and grabbed my phone.
:: Whats up Al? ::
He hates that I don’t use proper punctuation in texts. He’s angry-fucked me over it more than once before – which is why I don’t do it. Shh. Don’t tell him. I don’t think he’s worked it out yet.
:: Got to work late, honey. Mind if I fuck Cora? ::
:: Cora gets cock and I dont? Okay have fun. C U tonight. ::
I didn’t get a response back for a few minutes. I guess Cora – his secretary – was sucking his cock. Which is a fucking hot sight, by the way. Almost as hot as when I’m licking her pussy. So yes, you know, Cora was a known factor. Al already had permission to fuck her, anyway. He didn’t have to ask. But it was a courtesy and my husband is a sweety, even if he was fucking his secretary on our date night.