Epilogue
The new arrangement between myself, Catherine, Brian and Elizabeth was good for a couple of weeks but contained within it the seeds of its own destruction. I mean, in spite of what had happened, none of us could entirely divest ourselves of the feeling that what we were doing was basically wrong.
I mean, one morning it hit me like a sledge hammer. I was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and glancing at the Sunday paper when in walks my son Brian, a loose robe thrown around him, nothing on underneath. My wife, Cathy, was wearing a purple housedress and slippers, standing by the kitchen and frying up some bacon. Without so much as a word of warning, Brian snuck up behind her, threw his arms around her waist and kissed her hard on the back of her neck. Soon his hands had lifted her dress up and were pulling off her silken undergarments that fitted tightly against the curving bulge of her hips and ass.
"I want to fuck you, Mom," he whispered as he dived into her furry snatch with his middle finger. Without waiting for a reply, he dropped his robe and his big, churlish prick pounced arrogantly upon her, climbing hotly between her legs and then sinking into the warmth of her soft, swollen sex nest, I watched as the blood boiled inside of me. The little prick! How dare he assault her like that, while I was watching yet. I wanted to get up and smash him in the teeth, to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shake a little sense into him.
Catherine, too, was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable about this new arrangement. Not that she didn't like it when Brian went diving into her muff. She loved fucking him, enjoyed it with a fiendish ardor. Yet, she found, that allowing him to have sex with her broke down the distance between them and soon he was no longer regarding her as an authority figure, refusing to obey her instructions, laughing at her when she demanded that he do his chores or run an errand.
Catherine also found that Elizabeth was getting to be a big pain in the ass. The girl, like Brian, suddenly thought that she could get away with anything, that there was nothing she could not do. For example, she would insist on throwing wild parties for her friends, the young couples openly engaging in illicit sex, drinking and taking drugs and laughing when either I or my wife warned them to stop. Neighbors started complaining. We began to receive strange phone calls. Our lives became quite chaotic, quite confused. I even found this being reflected at my job, where my work was beginning to lapse. H this went on any longer, the consequences would be terrible. So after discussing it with my wife, we decided that it would be best if something was done immediately to nip it in the bud.
Our solution was quite a simple one. Brian, who had always wanted to go away to a boarding school, was granted his wish and sent to a military-style academy in Vermont. Elizabeth was enrolled in a girl's school in New Hampshire several days later and by the middle of September the two of them were out of our hair and out of our lives. As for us, Catherine and me, we had learned quite a lesson from what had occurred that summer.
Our sex lives, till then, had been too restricted, altogether too monogamous. What we needed was a bit of variety, something to spice it up. Catherine and I did some asking around and we soon found that a swinging little community flourished right in our midst, right under our eyes.
There was a club of about twelve different couples that got together on a weekly basis at one another's houses. Instead of playing bridge or some other idiotic card game, they had more fun playing sex, swapping wives and husbands. We became the thirteenth couple in this group and were quite happy about this new arrangement. It made our lives more varied, added excitement where tedium was beginning to grow. In short, this was the perfect solution for us.
I wish that I had time to tell you about our adventures as swingers. But even at this moment I hear the doorbell ringing. The Andersons and the Waterfords are dropping by for a little serious fucking and I would be a terrible host if I didn't go down to meet them. And I do mean go down. Especially with Karin Waterford.
Anyway, till my next book when I relate the adventures my wife and I had as swingers, let me wish you the best of everything. May your cock ever be hard and may pussy ever be plentiful for you.
Aloha and good night!!!!