‘Société de Partage’
My name is Eric, I am fifty-one-years-old, and I have been married to Linda for twenty-eight years. Linda is fifty, and she is the love of my life.
I met my wife when she was nineteen, and we hit it off immediately, we came from different backgrounds. I was most definitely working-class, she maybe middle-class, she had been raised in a very sheltered environment, by very protective parents, and it wasn’t until we met when she was at college, that she began to come out of her shell. A virgin when we met, she soon grew to love sex, well, sex with me, and I knew early on that she was the one for me. We married two years later, her parents weren’t overjoyed, but soon grew to love me, and we got along fine until they both died too soon.
Linda has kept her looks and can easily pass for someone in their early forties. She is five feet five inches tall, has short, wavy brunette hair with flecks of grey, she has a 34C chest, and gorgeous lips.
We live in a lovely little cottage in a secluded village in middle England, amongst a bunch of villages that surround the large town that most of us use for our major shopping needs. Life in our village is idyllic, which was the main reason that we moved here eight years ago, when the last of our kids, our son, moved out.
We are both retired. I was incredibly lucky. I sold my business a few years ago, and the proceeds gave me enough to live out the rest of my days in comfort, and enough to leave the kids. Life couldn’t get any better, or so I thought.
Our story began one Sunday morning, I was sat reading the morning paper, and she was reading a magazine, whilst drinking a cup of tea.
“You’ll never guess what I heard yesterday when I was getting my hair done?”
I rolled my eyes behind my paper, ‘more gossip’ I feigned interest.
“No, what’s that dear?”
She put her magazine down, “well,” she stopped.
“Look at me dear when I’m talking to you.”
I lowered my paper and smiled, “sorry dear.”
She continued, “I overheard the lady next to me tell the hairdresser that she had heard two women talk about a secret society around here whose members meet for secret sex sessions. You know, the sort where couples have sex with other men.”
Her eyes were wide, she looked in in disbelief. “Can you believe it?”
I didn’t know what to say, because I did believe it, she looked at me.
I inhaled then told her that I could believe it.
“You see honey, I was first approached about eighteen months ago in the pub, by a guy, who seemed to know my name. He told me a little about their little group. He asked me if I would be interested in joining, with you of course.”
She stared at me open-mouthed. I had rarely seen her speechless, but she truly was, it took her a while to respond.
“And? What did you tell him?”
“I told him that I didn’t think that my wife would be interested.”
She closed her mouth, then she asked me what he’d said to me.
“Well, only a little. It is a select group of people, all invited through a recommendation from existing members. So, we can assume, some of our friends are members.”
I could see her mind racing, wondering who.
“Then, when they are having an event. The wives stay at home, and the husbands, and a few single men, meet at a pub and some sort of selection process happens. And the husband returned home with the guy that has been chosen.
She was gobsmacked, I smiled. I returned to my paper.
I looked up, “yes dear?”
She was interested in finding out more.
“You said the first time?”
I told her that I was approached about six months later, and I politely declined, then she surprised me.
“Without asking me?”
Now I looked shocked, what was she saying?
“Well, yes, I mean, I know that I’ve said in the past that seeing you with another man was something that I’d fantasised about, but you never seemed to be that keen.”
“I know, but I thought we told each other everything, no secrets?”
She was right, I apologised and returned to my paper. I could hear her thinking and she whispered to herself.
“I wonder who told them about us?”
I smiled, I knew that she would fixate on that.
It was about three weeks later when I saw the same guy in the pub, he smiled and approached me, we school hands, and after some pleasantries, he whispered.
“It’s that time again, new members, I wondered if you and your wife would be interested in joining us?”
“To be honest, I would love to, I’m not sure that she would be, though, I did tell her about your approach, only a few weeks ago.”
I told him about her response and this time, instead of declining I told him I’d ask her directly, he gave me a card with an email address on. When I got home, I told her about it, she began to fire questions at me. I stopped her.
“Honey, stop. Why are you asking me all these questions? Are you seriously thinking about it?”
She shrugged, I continued.
“Because there’s no point in asking all this stuff if you are not interested. I only told you because of our last conversation.”
She was silent for a while.
“Wouldn’t you be jealous?”
I shook my head.
“No, I wouldn’t, you know how I feel about you. And, you know that I have talked about this since we got married. I was sorry that you have only had me, you never got the chance to see what it was like with other men before me.”
She smiled, “I am happy with you.”
I nodded, “I know, and I love you with all of my heart. But, being honest, seeing you fuck another man, that is such a turn on!”
I didn’t like using the ‘F’ word, but it seemed appropriate. I could see that she was running it around in her head, I sat beside her on the sofa and held her hand.
“Honey, I would never make you do anything that you didn’t want to do. So, I won’t ask you to do this, you will have to tell me that you want to, okay?”
She nodded, “I’d be terrified.”
I held her hand.
“More nervous, I think. And just so you know. I would never leave the room, I want to watch it all, and I would only leave you alone if it was something that you wanted me to do.”
She shook her head, “never.”
And we left it at that.