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and told us that they had really been attracted to us, being close to our age, and wanted to get to know us better. They asked us to go out to dinner with them on Saturday, after which we could all go to the "Club."
That was another strange thing about the state at the time. There were a couple of "clubs" in town, where you could by liquor off premises and drink it at the club. These establishments offered a personal locker for each member, a comfortable candlelit room with white table cloths, and a waiter to whom you would give your locker key so that he could take your bottle to the bar and have the bartender mix drinks for you.
It would be a new experience for us, and we were looking for friendship being new in town so we eagerly accepted the invitation, feeling that we had something in common. We were both younger couples in the midst of a middle age world. I never mentioned it to Charie, but I couldnt help but look at Penny in a lustful way, wondering what her breasts would look like in the raw. They were larger than Charies and appeared to be perfectly formed.
Saturday evening was pleasant, although it seemed strange not being able to order wine with dinner. Each couple talked about how we met our spouses, the fact that neither of us wanted children until we had been married at least five years, and we talked about the church and how stuffy the congregation was a whole, wondered out loud if the minister and his wife (both obese) ever had sex, giggling out loud about it. Both Charie and I felt at ease with John and Penny and looked forward to going with them later to the club.
It was Saturday night and the house was full. The club was no more than a dimly lit room with a bar at the end, and restrooms on either end of the bar. The length of one wall was covered with small oak lockers that contained the booze of the club members. Each member had a key that would open their locker. When John placed our order he gave the waiter the key and the waiter opened the locker, took the bottles to the bartender who mixed the drinks. I couldnt resist the urge to make a joke.
"I had a different opinion of what a key club was," I said. We talked about going to the Playboy Club with our large paper key as a pass. Also, it was during the early sixties and there was much talk of "key clubs," which signified a group of couples who would meet at each others homes, throw their car keys in a pile and pick out someone elses keys—along with their wives.
Charie gave me a very accusatory look, wondering how I could have brought up such a subject with members of our church that we were trying to impress. John looked
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askance at Penny, took her hand and squeezed it. I thought I had really made a mistake and couldnt wait for the drinks to come. When they did John offered a toast to new beginnings. After a couple of drinks our conversation began to open up. It was Penny who seemed to get the conversation going when she said: "Do you think they have any of those key clubs in Huntington?" laughing nervously. John glanced noncommittally at her, then looked at us and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "My blonde wife."
"I read a book about it," Penny continued. "It seems funny, but all of the characters in the book were normal people just like us. They were just curious what it would be like to go to bed with anothers husband or wife.
Charie joined the conversation. "Well, maybe if their husbands or wives were taking care of them in bed, they wouldnt be curious," she said smiling and reaching for my hand, smiling to make a statement about our happiness as a couple, not mentioning that we had actually seen a porno with more than two people having sex at the same time.
John looked at me and I shrugged.
"I know that its not considered normal in our society," Penny said, "but maybe some people just need more…or maybe they are just… insatiably curious."
"Curious? Or just insatiable," Charie responded, putting a bit of a hush on the conversation. She looked at me, then at Penny and then John, her face coloring pink.
"I mean," Penny continued, "Ive heard of women who are nymphomaniacs, and just have to have lots of sex." With a quick glance to her husband she went on, "I know that I shouldnt be saying this to church members, but have you ever looked at a man who just turned you on and wished that you could have sex with him?"
John and I both looked at each other. I was amazed that the conversation was going this way, and hoped it would continue. even though I was a bit uncomfortable. I found it both interesting—and exciting. John just rolled his eyes again announcing the blonde wife syndrome.
"I cant imagine having sex with anybody else but my husband," Charie said defensively, looking at me again, smiling, but fidgeting with her hands. Penny had struck a nerve.
"Well, I guess I shouldnt be talking this way Charie. Weve only begun to know you, and already Ive managed to upset you. I apologize," she said, looking at John silently for forgiveness.
That night when we went to bed Charie seemed distant. "She really upset you honey, didnt she," I said.
She was silent for a while. I didnt want to say anymore to upset her when all of a sudden she blurted out: "You would hate me Gary if I hadnt said that I couldnt imagine having sex with another man."
"You mean you have baby?"
She was silent for a long time. Then, sheepishly she said, "Yes."
I smiled to myself, then
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