There seem to be so many fetishes around these days; latex, rubber, bondage and the like, that good old wife-swapping now appears not to be so popular anymore. Well, let me tell you; it is where I live!
Our whole neighbourhood is at it. Young or old, black or white there are at least twenty of us all within a few miles of each other that think nothing of popping round to a friends’ house for dinner and waking up in the morning with a different partner!
And it’s not just the married couples that get in on the action either. My lovely wife, Mandy and I are very fortunate. We happen to live next door to Julia Mason. Julia is the single mum of an eighteen-year-old son, Max. Her husband apparently left her when Max was very young and she’s reared the lad virtually single-handed. She’s made a pretty good job of it too. But Max is quite a shy lad – unlike his mother! Both Mandy and Julia are bi-sexual and many’s the time that my wife, my neighbour and I have shared a quiet little threesome together.
But this story is not about Julia. It’s about Max – Max and my wife.
It was a Saturday – the best day of the week as far as I’m concerned – and Julia had invited Mandy and I over to her house for a late afternoon drink. It was a hot day in July. Julia had set out her garden furniture on the terrace and so the three of us sat down to enjoy cool cocktails. All of us where in swimsuits in order to soak up the last of the afternoon sun but, Mandy being Mandy, and as usual being as outrageous as possible, had worn the tiniest bikini I had ever seen. The thin material – what there was of it – clung to her like a second skin and left very little to the imagination. (more…)