One guy who we invited to our apartment arrived with Kentucky Fried Chicken buckets.
Another appeared completely different from his picture. Both were way below Janet’s standards, which were not overly high as long as the guys were attractive and nice. These two were plainly average—if that. The balding second guy was aggressive, and when I was in the bathroom, he pushed Janet over and penetrated her before I was back in the room. I suddenly realized something: none of these people were using condoms.
Months went by and we had our first big scare. Janet might be pregnant; she was late for her period. This took a toll on us—a big toll. Luckily she started again a week later. More replies to our ad came in and I found one most interesting. He was older, as everyone was compared to us.
He looked attractive enough and claimed to have ten inches. I was starting to get into this whole size thing. All the men we met were bigger than me. Janet seemed to like it and I was really turned on by her taking a huge cock. This big guy was our next guest.
I decided we’d have a little extra fun this time too. I bought a video camera and came up with a role-playing scenario, even though Janet was feeling overwhelmed by the idea of role-playing.
Tim arrived on cue and the scene was set in motion. Janet wore a tiny black dress, thigh-high black stockings and heels. She wore no panties and no bra. He was a traveling insurance salesman who had arrived at our door. I had a good imagination. He entered while giving us his sales pitch.
Janet soon had him sit on the couch to discuss our buying options. She interrupted him, saying, “My boyfriend was supposed to be here. I’m sorry he’s running late. He’s always late. We had dinner plan after this and dancing … very disappointing.”
Tim was on her side, of course. He said, “I find it hard to imagine any guy being late for you.
I mean, you’re such a little darling if I may say so.”
Janet blushed and they chatted more. He flirted with her and played up what he was selling, moving in closer and after a while massaging her shoulders. The role-playing proceeded on its own. I just watched and filmed.
He offered to take her to the bedroom, and she agreed. In our room he undressed her and ate her pussy with reckless abandon. She was loving it and moaning louder each minute he indulged her. She said, “Oh please, fuck me. Please give it to me.” I was like, wow, she is really into this.
Has she had too many wine coolers? She sat up, undid his pants, and the little cocksucker went to town. Tim was not hung. He had six inches, not ten. I was wholly disappointed. He had lied. He took my girl and fucked her. She loved it, but I was upset the entire time.
We took a break after that sad meeting. It seemed like this whole setup had disappointment written all over it. These guys were porn-shop-booklet readers. I mean, what did we expect? In the future the Internet would change all this. But not before Janet and I tried more encounters. Things would soon come crashing down on our engagement.
We invited another older guy to join us in the bedroom about six months later.
Janet wore a sexy red dress and white stockings. She furiously sucked his smallish cock, which his letter had claimed was bigger. He was not hard throughout. He wasted no time stripping her down, sliding her panties off and eating her pussy. She was on fire, but he could not get hard.
They tried everything with no luck. We invited another guy over months later. He was a heavy-set guy but carried a thick cock.
Janet sucked him good. He was stiff and had a big mushroom cockhead.
Before this meet-up we had discussed the aspect of condom-less sex. We could not keep taking chances. We bought some condoms, but they stayed in the drawer. She climbed her little butt on top of him, looked back at me with wanting eyes and mounted him. She rode his fat dick and loved it. The coming weeks we were scared as hell again about her being pregnant. It was killing us.
Then another major obstacle came up. Janet became obsessed with the subject of sexually transmitted diseases. Here we were having her screw random men, condom-less, unprotected and bare. Not only was she in danger, but so was I. She decided we had to stop all swinging.
At the time I was teaching at a nearby school. Out of the blue a new student walked in. She was a sixteen-year-old bushy-blond baby doll named Sara. Janet met her at a gathering and immediately did not like her. It was a jealousy thing. Anyway, life went on. Little did I know my future wife had just stepped into my world.
Years past. We met a few other guys, no one special. We mostly dealt with one another and what life was sending our way.
Things in my life were changing fast. The little girl I had loved as a high school junior was still my best pal and lover. However, the sex was getting stale, and our swinging was on hold. I was wary of diseases from the past encounters, and even got ill at one point. I thought I may have AIDS—the latest scare in the modern world of the nineties.
I still wanted more wild sexy adventures, but none came about for quite a long time. Janet and I were facing typical relationship woes. Finances were low, our jobs not what we wanted, and she was constantly talking marriage and children. I was leery of a lot. I did not know where things were heading. I hated all this stuff. We needed a house, better jobs, more money—not to mention more exciting sex. We also had to deal with Janet’s family.
Oh boy, what a messed up crew! She was the baby of eight kids. Most were alcoholics, and her closest-aged sister was the worst. We had a fight one night about all the above and Janet left.
Her sister encouraged her to leave. But Janet came back crying into my arms and we made amends. Again money was tight. Janet wanted marriage and she wanted a child. Swinging was not on her list. I began fantasizing about other women, just to get by sexually. I was a young teacher and students were but a mere six to seven years my junior, so these lovely girls were great fodder for fantasy.
I did not want a child yet, and marriage scared the hell out of me. I knew only one true girlfriend. Janet and I never had reason to imagine we would not be together forever.
She wanted more and wanted it now. I asked that we swing more, perhaps meet some hot men—not the duds we had met before. The Internet was now an option and more possibilities were soon to come. Janet lost her job. We had little money, and we fought more and more. Her sister missed her, and she her sister. We split again, but she came running back into my arms. “I love you,” she insisted. “You and me are all I have.”
It looked like we’d be okay. Still, once I was feeling good again, I got lost in the subject that would destroy us. I wanted Janet to be with a black man. My soon-to-be wife was thinking wedding, a child and a new job. Again we had to split. This time she would not return. She had always come back, but this time Janet had met someone at her new job. He had been her friend in a time of need. He was nothing special but he cared. Together they would talk, him telling her how he would cherish her beyond reason. He would tell her I was a fool.
I still thought she’d be back. I wanted to marry her and I did want a child someday. We’d been together for many years and we’d met right out of school. We were always together. A week later a big argument ensued on the phone: “I suppose we could get together and talk,” she said. I was like, “how could you be with another guy?” She was mad. “It didn’t seem to bother you when we met those older guys before.” I argued that this was different, but she could not see the difference. We didn’t have that meeting until much later in the month.
The time spent alone was new to me. Janet and I was all I had ever had. I missed her and had a hard time imagining life without her. I was hurt, but I also felt guilty. She’d be back.
She did not come back. I was on my own and we corresponded very little for weeks. One day, while I was shopping and at the checkout line, I ran into a student from quite a ways back.
She was gorgeous. I knew that bushy blonde hairstyle from far away. Her name was Sara and I was in awe. She came up to me and gave me a hug. It had been so long, and she was no longer a teenager. We chatted, and I suggested we should get together for a movie or something. She smiled and said, “Just give me a call sometime.” Before I could say more, she had left the store.
She was all paid up, and I was still dealing with the cashier.
I heard nothing from Janet in the coming days. I thought about calling Sara, but it was mostly a fantasy. I did not have her number and she was a lot younger. Yet she did say that her boyfriend and she had recently split. I called Janet instead. She was a little easier to talk with, but we got nowhere with regard to meeting or getting back together. Then came a luck-of-the–draw, spur-of-the-moment happening: I ran across some old papers with student numbers from long ago and such. The papers were for a carwash we had done as a group years ago. They were listed on the back of something, since I hadn’t thought it important to save the numbers. There stood one number in particular, Sara’s.
This young woman was no doubt out of my league. She was slim, beautiful, young, and a college coed. Sara could be a playboy playmate in an instant. I fidgeted with the number for two days and only got the nerve to call on a Wednesday night. She was back home from school, and luckily her mother passed her the phone. “Hi, Sara. After running into you at the store, I decided to call. How about we hit a movie together this Friday night?” My heart was pounding out of my chest. Janet was on my mind. What the heck was I doing?
Sara calmly answered my call. “I’d love to.”