"Did you enjoy it?"
"Sure. It felt good."
"Do you think you
e a lesbian?"
"What kind of
men nude fucking a question is that?"
"As far
men nude fucking as Jeffs being attracted to me goes, didn you feel attracted to Louise?"
"Oh, sure. Shes a lovely, sexy woman."
"I rest my case," I said.
She was quiet for a few minutes staring at the wall. I could almost see the ideas chasing each other around in her beautiful head. Then she said quietly, "It scares the hell out of him thinking he might be gay, but if you can show
men nude fucking him that hes merely experiencing a bisexual urge, Id be very grateful." Then she turned to me and grinned. "Besides, it would be a serious turn-on for me to see you two guys going at it. Are you up for a threesome?"
I thought for a
men nude fucking moment. I wasn sure how Bette would take it if I went to a party alone. Well, Id think of something. "Sure," I said, "when?"
Sandys brow wrinkled as she mentally reviewed her calendar. "How about a week from Saturday?"
I nodded. "Ill work something out."
Actually, Bette surprised me when I mentioned the possibility of a golf game with
men nude fucking Jeff. She nodded enthusiastically, saying, "I didn know you played golf, Jim, but
men nude fucking Im glad to see you getting some exercise!"
Bette must have read something else in my expression because she said, "From the look on your face, I thought you were going to suggest a swinging party."
I nodded slowly, as if considering the idea for the first time. Actually, as accustomed as I was to infinite sexual variety, the (nearly) monogamous life I had with Bette was beginning to pale. Aloud, I said, "Would you like to go to a swing club?"
She hesitated. "If you want to . . ." she began.
"No, no, baby," I said firmly, "if you go to a swing club, you go out of curiosity, or to
men nude fucking get laid, or for the hell of it. You do not go because someone wants you to."
Bettes face turned solemn. She said slowly, "I may not have been around like you and Louise, but I am curious. Id like to see what a swing club is like. Who knows? Id probably like it."
The next day, Wednesday, I called the Ten/Thirty club across the river in Portland, and made dinner reservations. I told Bette what I had done that evening. Her initial response was, "What shall I wear?"
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