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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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said, "Well sweetie, Ive thought of having sex with a lot of women—but havent." "But guys are supposed to think that way honey," she argued, "For a woman to admit to that would make her wanton. I feel ashamed Gary. Do you hate me?" This penitence came after a full year of talking about how she wondered what another man would feel like inside her. I hadnt been aroused until we began talking about it, but the conversation stimulated me to an immediate erection. "Who have you imagined having sex with Charie," I asked. "Are you getting angry with me Gary?" I took her hand and wrapped her fingers around my substantial erection and said, "If I were mad baby, do you think that I would have gotten this hard?" She lay her head on my chest, the air from her nostrils washing my bare skin (I always slept in the nude). Her hand gently grasped my hardness and moved the loose outer skin of my phallus up and down. She was quiet, stroking to please me, but something was on her mind. "You didnt answer my question baby." She kept stroking, quietly. "Baby?" I asked again. I was imagining the man sitting across the table from me that night spreading Charies legs and mounting her, sliding his cock in and out of her cunt. "Baby?" I asked again insistently then held my breath. Hers was like the voice of a little girl who had done something wrong and was confessing to her father. "John." The air escaped from my lungs. I became unbelievably out of control and my balls released my load with a force that I hadnt experienced since I was thirteen. She lifted her face, my sticky load sagging from her forehead to her nose, and said stifling a sob, "Oh, darling. You were excited about it too!" My initial explosion was a preamble to a long and passionate night. In the morning the sheets on our bed were all bunched up; still damp from the soaking that came from our bodily fluids. Charies hair, ordinarily soft and silky, was matted and stuck together, like she had sculpted it with Mousse. The large lips of her pussy were red and puffy, almost raw. And, my cock was chaffed, burning to my touch, my testicles feeling as if they had been squeezed in a vise. Our love making had been so avaricious that we smelled like athletes after a long and hard fought contest. But perspiration was only one component of our redolence. We both had an epiphany that transported us to an insatiable lust, were both exhausted and not really in the mood for church. Charie had, since the porno shop in New York city, discussed the curiosity that resided deep within her at what another mans penis would feel like inside her, and I never discouraged her fantasy, but the mere suggestion of sex with other persons, even though John and Penny might have been just conversational, filled us at first with feelings of