The World was quiet for a while.
I didn't fuck Chloe on the dining table. I didn't fuck her at all. Nor anyone else. I didn't even masturbate.
I just waited...
In the end my wife came back.
For two days. Then went back to Karen's.
Whilst she was back we talked. She finally accepted that something had been fundamentally wrong in our marriage for a long time. And that the burden of responsibility for that was shared between us.
I don't think I said anything to make her change her mind about that. I think that was down to Karen.
I reassured my wife that I loved her and that I wanted our marriage to work. She said the same thing.
But I think we both said what we thought should be said to avoid any further arguments or recriminations.
We both said what was necessary to let it continue to live a little longer, and then die peacefully.
She spent more and more time at Karen's. Until she spent all her time at Karen's. I don't know when that finally happened. A few weeks afterwards? A few months? I'm not sure either of us recognised it when it happened. Only with hindsight was it apparent that things were finally over...
All of these events took place a few years ago now.
I'm on good terms with my wife today. She's my friend. We speak often and I love her. But I'm not in love with her. Nor she with me.
She is still my wife. For now. The decree absolute should come through any day now. We're parting on good terms, and it's only because we need to sell the house, so she can buy somewhere with Karen, that has made us do it now.
I think the two of them were made for each other. I believe they still get up to their tricks, although I no longer get all the gory details.
I succeeded in bringing her into the lifestyle, although she had already taken the first steps herself.
In doing so I lost her, but then I had probably lost her already.
She's happy. That's the main thing.
And the other players in our drama?
Karen, you know about.
Beth, I'm glad to say, decided not to go to Germany.
I had a second final coffee with her. She told me that she was returning to South Wales, where she came from and where she still had family and friends.
I wished her well and told her to be happy, again, but this time with more confidence that she would be. We said we would keep in touch, but I knew we wouldn't. I think she wanted to put her old life behind her and start again afresh. Just her and her kids.
And Chloe? What of the beautiful, sexy, mischievous girl who so captivated me and stole my heart forever?
Boy have her and I had some fun together. After our meets with Ruth and Olly, and Ian and Leah, we were hooked on couples. And although we never said we wouldn't play solo from then on, neither of us did, apart from a couple of times I let Chloe have some fun alone when we were in a club.
We still met the other two couples. And had fun with a few others here and there.
But our only regular new partner was Claire, who turned out to be everything we hoped she would be.
We quickly got to a stage where James wasn't allowed to fuck her. Only Chloe and I. We would send her back to him happy and satisfied, used and full of cum.
And we continued to do more and more of the 'normal' things couples do too. Eventually she introduced me to her sister, although I still didn't make the wedding. She knew Chloe better than anyone, and figured out that the only reason she never had a boyfriend was because she actually did and was keeping him secret.
And Chloe and I did go to Venice together. And lots of other places too, including Paris, obviously.
Around the time of the Paris trip I started to wonder why I had always assumed we couldn't have a future because of our age difference. I even had a spur of the moment impulse to ask her to marry me on the Pont des Arts, but fought it off, telling myself I was being selfish.
I wondered, sarcastically, what my wife would have made of that!
But then, just a couple of weeks later, I called round to Chloe's and found her with her sister and new baby niece. She looked great holding a baby. A natural mother.
She doted on the little girl, besotted with her, and although she never once said anything, I knew she was broody. The clock was starting to tick a little louder.
So one night I sat her down and told her it was time for her to find someone else. Someone to raise a family with and grow old with.
Of course she dismissed the idea out of hand, but the next night I nabbed her phone whilst she was napping on the sofa. I set up a Tinder account for her, in a strange parallel of the way I set up a Fab account for my wife.
When I showed her what I had done, she was cross with me for the first and only time.
But she didn't delete it.
Eventually I got her to look at it. I told her that she should go on a few dates, just to see what it was like. See how she felt. I think she agreed just to humour me and finally shut me up.
I said that if she went out with someone and liked him... wanted to see him again... then she shouldn't see me too. I would keep away until they broke up, if they did.
She kept telling me I was stupid. But she went on a few dates, always telling me when she did. And she kept calling me straight after to tell me that I was stuck with her.
Then she went on a date. And I didn't hear from her until lunchtime the next day. She said that she liked this guy. He was clever, and funny and good looking. That he reminded her of me. Apart from the clever and funny and good looking parts.
She said that nothing had happened the night before, but she hadn't known what to say to me. She was going to see him again that night.
I could hear something in her voice, telling me that this was different. That she was different. I kept my own voice level and told her it was fine. It was what I wanted for her. The same rules applied. I wouldn't contact her until she contacted me. Then I put the phone down, quickly, before my voice cracked. Then I cried.
I did hear from her the next day. A message this time, to say that she was seeing him again and that I was right. It didn't seem appropriate to be talking to me whilst dating this other guy, so I might not hear from her for a little while.
A week later she phoned to ask me to go for a coffee. I knew what was going to happen.
She cried. A lot. But I told her that it was OK. She had to give this a chance and I was in the way.
It's funny how, even in a town as small as this, you can go without seeing someone, sometimes for years, sometimes for ever.
So it was two years before I saw Chloe again. I was just walking out of Boots and happened to glance down one of the aisles as I passed. I stopped dead in my tracks. There was Chloe, with her mum, who I recognised from the pictures Chloe had of her at home.
Just at that moment her mum knelt down, looking at something on the bottom shelf. Then it was impossible not to notice the rings on Chloe's left hand, resting as it was on her swollen belly.
She looked more beautiful than ever. And happy.
Her sixth sense must have kicked in, because she suddenly turned and looked straight at me. She started a little, obviously surprised to see me. I nodded towards her bump and smiled at her. She checked to see that her mother was still distracted, oblivious to my presence, and smiled back.
I don't know how long I held her gaze. Just a second probably. Enough for the rest of my life. Then I winked and walked on.
That was the last time I ever saw her.
And me? Well I'm happy too. Really. I am.
I have a girlfriend, Lisa, who I also met on Fab. I saw her profile 6 minutes after she joined. It was a classic 'recently divorced, recommended by a friend, looking for a man for fun and friendship' profile.
We chatted. We met. We fucked, but most importantly, we had fun in each other's company. We still do. And, perhaps because of where and how we met, we have been open with each other from the start.
I have introduced her to the lifestyle too, to clubs, to swinging, to threesomes and moresomes. But we play together. No secrets.
We don't live together, we both like our freedom and independence and the opportunity to be alone from time to time. But equally we have someone to go out with, to go on holiday with, to curl up in front of the telly with, to play with.
And so, my friends, that is my tale. For better or for worse.
I'm not going to patronise you with a moral for the story. You will each take what you want from it. Some of you will relate to it, some of you will just see a story. Some of you might be inspired by it, some of you deterred. Some of you will find things to try, some of you will find things to avoid. But I hope, at least, that you will all have enjoyed it.
Thank you for your company.
The End. |
Thankyou 
xx
