Chapter 2

"Rough day?" Grace asked as her husband walked wearily into the house.

"Busy as hell," he replied with a sigh. "I'm bushed! Listen, we're going to have to limit these little parties to Friday and Saturday nights! I was so damned tired this morning I could hardly walk!"

"Me too!" Grace sighed. "And my crotch was so sore I kept squirming in my chair all day at work. Mr. Goodman asked me if I was all right several times. But it was fun, wasn't it?"

"Yeah!" he sighed with satisfaction. "Say, how about a drink? I could use one to relax."

"Sure!" Grace replied. "Mix me a gimlet."

Fred McElhaney glanced at his wife as he walked toward the converted closet he used for bar storage. He liked what he saw. Grace is as attractive as the day I met her fifteen years ago, he thought to himself. She's kept herself well. He loved the way she continued to wear her rich brown hair long. It hung in graceful waves well below her slender shoulders and framed her heart-shaped face.

At the age of thirty-five Grace's face and body retained a remarkable youthful quality. Her flesh was smooth and almost completely free of wrinkles. She had gained a little weight, but she wore it well. Her breasts were a little lower than they had been when he met her, yet they were still incredibly firm and pointed. She still reminded him of a slender Maureen O'Hara.

As he opened the louvered door, Fred suddenly remembered something he had found this morning.

"Where's Janie?" he asked, turning back to look at Grace.

"This is her night for Girl Scouts, remember?"

"Oh! Right. I'm glad she isn't home. We need to talk about her."

"Now what?"

"Wait till I mix the drinks," he replied, hating to shout back and forth.

Fred mixed a pitcher of gimlets so he wouldn't have to keep getting up. Then he took two chilled glasses out of the small refrigerator he had installed at the back of the storage closet and brought everything back to the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Ummmm! Mana from heaven!" Grace sighed appreciatively as she sipped the chilled cocktail. "I agree. We've got to party on Friday and Saturday nights. It's too much to face work the next day after a workout like that!"

"I gather you enjoyed last night and want to go on," Fred said as he sipped his drink and settled down next to his wife on the sofa.

"I thought we settled that last night," she said. "Unless you have changed your mind, honey."

"No. Not at all," he said with a smile. "I just wasn't sure that you might not have."

"I still can't get over the way we balled after they left," Grace laughed.

"Just talking about it and thinking about it makes me horny," he laughed. "I guess all swingers do that at first. It's a lot better than before, isn't it?"

"Uh huh," she agreed with a dreamy sigh. Fred's reference was to the fact that several months before they each independently and without the other's knowledge began having extra-marital affairs. What passed even the realm of coincidence was the fact that they were both having affairs with the same married couple-the O'Briens next door!

What began as mild flirtations at a party became torrid moments stolen almost impossibly with next door neighbors. None of the four people involved knew that his or her mate was involved. For that matter, the O'Briens still did not know!

Fred and Grace caught each other through a series of silly circumstances and their marriage was suddenly filled with bitter recriminations and unpleasant strife. Both rattled the specter of divorce like Arabs rattling oil drums at consuming nations, then in a hilarious moment of self-realization recognized how ridiculously silly they were being.

As Fred had put it, if they both desired variety in their sex life, how could one blame the other? And it was at this point that the idea of joining the swinging world had come to them.

At first they simply toyed with the idea. Grace admitted her concern that some woman would take one look at Fred and go all out to take him away from her.

Grace was deeply in love with Fred McElhaney. She had been from the very moment she met him. He was the tall, gay Irishman of her dreams. At six-foot-four Fred towered over everybody. Grace loved his bright red hair, now tinged interestingly with flecks of sand gray, and his impulsive, devil-may-care attitude that seemed to be a part of the Irish makeup.

Although some people laughingly said that Fred McElhaney wore the map of Ireland on his face, Grace thought him among the most handsome men she had ever met. His gray-green eyes seemed to dance with fire and life!

And even though she had read enough erotic books to suspect that her husband was endowed with an above-average sex organ, it was only last night that she had received final confirmation of her suspicion. Linda's appreciation of Fred's cock had warmed Grace's heart.

When they began toying with the idea of swinging, Fred bought and sent off for a number of club magazines. These they read voraciously, learning everything they could. They also went through a number of books about wife-swapping. The argument for swinging that impressed both of them the most was the complete openness of sexual freedom. No more sneaking off to a questionable motel or struggling within the highly confined area of the backseat of a car. No more suffering the pangs of nervous stomach in the fear that the mate would find out.

Swinging was open. Each knew what the other was doing and the chances of emotional involvement were almost nil. Swinging made sex a purely physical experience.

When they finally decided to try it, they joined three clubs and studied the ads carefully. They chose four couples and wrote each a very brief, vague and discrete note. The Jacksons, Linda and Ed, had been the first to reply and a date had been arranged for the night before.

"It was all we imagined it would be, wasn't it?" Fred said, refilling both of their gimlets from the pitcher.

"And then some!" Grace sighed. "Honestly, I never thought it would be so exciting watching you make it with another woman!"

"That surprised me too," Fred laughed. "I was worried that I'd be jealous seeing another man lay you, but instead it was as horny as the devil!"

"You'd better stop talking about it now," Grace laughed, glancing pointedly at the growing bulge in his slacks. "It looks like you're getting a beauty of a hard-on!"

"Doesn't it do anything to you?"

"Sure! I can feel it in my pussy, silly! But don't forget that Janie will be home soon."

"Yeah! Oh, that reminds me! Where was Janie supposed to be last night?"

"At Millie's, why?"

"Let's go at it another way," Fred said, once again filling his gimlet glass. He offered some to Grace, but she shook her head. "What time did I set up the bar yesterday?"

"Late. I remember reminding you to do it," Grace replied. "I suppose it was about five-thirty or six."

"And what time did Janie leave to go over to Millie's?"

"Early. Maybe four or four-thirty. They were going to a movie and they wanted to get in on the student special at five. What's this all about, Fred?"

"How would you react to Janie knowing about what went on last night?"

"Oh, wow! I'd have to think about that one!"

"Well, start thinking!" Fred laughed. "I'm pretty sure she knows. In fact, I think she probably saw everything that took place in this room last night!"

"You can't be serious!" Grace said.

"Look, I spilled the damned peanuts when I was filling the bowl, remember?"

"Yes."

"And I had to get down on the floor of the bar to pick them all up."

"I don't see ..."

"The point is," Fred pressed on, "that I cleaned the floor of the closet last night after Janie had supposedly left. Then why did I find her bra in the middle of the closet floor this morning when I went for some Alka Seltzer?"

"You found her bra?" Grace asked, still unable to grasp what he was trying to tell her.

"That's right. It's still there, as a matter of fact. I put it on the shelf above the glasses."

Automatically, Grace left the sofa and walked quickly over to the bar. She opened the louvered door and reached up on the shelf to take her thirteen-year-old daughter's bra down and hold it in her hand.

"Close the door and stand inside and open the louvers," Fred called from across the room.

Grace did as he asked and gasped when she realized that through the louvers anybody hidden in the closet had a complete view of the entire living room. She snapped them shut and came out to rejoin her husband on the couch.

"Could you see?" he asked.

"Everything!" she replied. "But how do you know she was there watching?"

"If her bra wasn't there at five-thirty yesterday but was this morning, how did it get there? I think she was there all the time."

"I think I need another drink!" Grace said.

"Here, finish this and I'll make a fresh batch."

Grace sipped her gimlet and stared into space pensively while Fred mixed the vodka and lime juice for another pitcher full of cocktails.

"We faced this before we began," Fred remarked as he poured them both gimlets in freshly chilled glasses. "Remember?"

"We said we wouldn't lie about it to her or try to pretend we were holier than thou," Grace replied. "Sure, I remember. But, my God, Fred, we didn't think it would happen like this!"

"Or this soon, I agree," Fred sighed. "But I think we'd better face the fact that it has happened. You have always said that you didn't want Janie to grow up with all the silly restrictions about sex."

"Thank God I started her on the Pill when she began having the curse this year!" Grace sighed. "Just what in the hell are we supposed to do now, Fred?"

"For the moment, nothing," Fred replied with a smile. "I think we should let her bring it up."

"Lord, Fred, that's something like the conspiracy of silence you and I detest!"

"Not really. We'll give her plenty of openings, but let her bring it up."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then we'll have to bring it out in the open ourselves, I suppose," Fred sighed.

"We can't very well hide it, can we? Especially if we intend to go on swinging."

"Not very well," Fred agreed.

"Fred, what if . .. what if Janie wants to swing with us?"

"That thought crossed my mind, honey, and I honestly don't know. It might be the best thing that could happen, for all of our sakes, but I swear I don't know how we'll handle it."

They sat in silence for a long moment, each sipping their drink and searching their conscience.

"You know that you've got me tighter than a tick, don't you?" Grace laughed after a few moments. "And you know what liquor does to me. I'm horny, Fred McElhaney. Why don't you take me to bed and fuck me silly!"