Swing Low Sweet Cherry

It wasn’t my fault that my wife and I became addicts to the swing-scene.

Our best friends, Matt and Christine came over for a cook-out in the back yard one Sunday afternoon and mentioned that they were exploring a “free and open relationship”.

Connie, my wife of four years seemed appalled at first when Christine bragged about being the center of attention at the recent gathering of ‘Hammocks and Rocking Chairs’, a club specializing in fantasies for those who made the mistake and tied the knot.

“I thought I’d be pissed at first,” Matt explained while rubbing his crotch and eyeing Connie up and down like a slab of baby back ribs while she slaved over the grill.

My protectiveness over the sanctity of my fine wife kicked in and I nearly lost control and punched Matt in the face, but I sat in a lounge chair and let him finish.

Christine didn’t say a word. She flipped burgers and pretended not to be all that interested in the proposal being served by our guests along with potato salad and a summer platter of sliced tomatoes, basil, mozzarella and a drizzle of olive oil.

I’m a wholesome Jewish boy with a Protestant upbringing. Sharing my wife is something I would never do under most circumstances.

My mind changed later that evening over cordials.

Connie and Christine started it. They began by licking Bailey’s off one another’s fingers and the next thing you know I was lapping it off of Matt’s huge cock.