Our Anniversary Album

The idea for the album

It starts with small steps for most couples, just as it did for us. I think my wife took the first step, but she denies it. I will only admit to being a full and eager participant.

We had great sex that night. At least, that's what I thought. So, mostly as a joke, I asked her if that wasn't the best sex she had ever had or could imagine having. I expected her to laugh or hit me or something. She hesitated pensively for a moment, and that was all it took. My wife was actually thinking about it. What was she remembering or fantasizing? The thought conjured up all sorts of images that were at once unsettling and exciting.

Martha is my wife. I'm Steven her husband.

Life was comfortable for us. We had respectable professions, a wide circle of friends and interests outside of work that kept us from being bored in our late 40s when this story began. The younger of our two children had recently left for college, so I suppose you could consider us 'empty nesters'. They had gone in opposite directions, but neither was more than a few hours away. Close enough for the occasional weekend visit home, but far enough away to let them live their own lives and to let us reimagine ours.

It was fair to say that Martha and I were happy with each other and satisfied with our lives in general. If nothing had happened to prompt the writing of this story, we would not have had regrets about what we might have missed.

Yet, I couldn't stop thinking about that moment of hesitation and what it might have meant. It was entirely possible - even probable - that she had sexual experiences before we met that were equal to the orgasms we shared that night. To be fair, I had a number of very enjoyable experiences in my youth that would have equaled hers. That wasn't the point. I wasn't jealous. I was curious to know what she had felt when she had sex with other men and what she fantasized about now. And that surprised me. I recognized my desire to know how she felt as a trace of voyeurism. Maybe more than a trace. I wanted to watch her live out her sexual fantasies.

She had only hesitated for a moment before she read my mind. Couples do that. Read each other's minds. The quick denials that followed were unconvincing. She had been thinking of someone else while we had sex and now she felt guilty. She was, or so she thought at the time, not the type of woman to fantasize about sex with other men and certainly too respectable to actually do it.

Yet, the door had opened just a crack and we each knew it. Our sex was just a little more frequent and a little more intense. It would take another year and a lot more little steps before we made the leap into swinging.

That first swap with another couple was 12 months ago. It's not an anniversary we celebrate with our church friends or colleagues at work, but the friends who swing with us thought the idea of putting together an album was romantic. We had invited them to a gathering on the one year anniversary to complete the album with photographs.

Martha is the better writer. She would write the narratives for her adventures and edit mine. It would have been more authentic if the photos had been taken as the events occurred, but that was impossible. How could I have taken photos in the early stages when just getting naked was a big step? We thought the friends who shared our adventure would be willing to pose for the illustrations we needed for our anniversary album and we were right.

We had rented a secluded cabin on a lake for the weekend. Small trays of snacks were strategically placed around the cabin. The mats had been rolled out over the hardwood floors in the living room and the couch moved back against the wall. Of course, condoms would be available for those who wanted to use them.

Photo #1 June 14

Gretchen, Edgar and Steven, standing naked in a rushing brook, laughing

f/10 1/160 sec ISO 100 lens 52 mm

Narrated by Martha

Gretchen had been my best friend for years. I had been a bridesmaid at her wedding to Edgar. That was before I had even met Steven, the man who would one day be my husband. I thought I knew everything about them, but I would have never guessed that Gretchen would suggest we all get naked or that Edgar would be so comfortable letting my husband see his wife that way.

Maybe it was just the setting that made it all possible. We were on a camping trip high in the mountains and sweaty from hiking up the trail with backpacks full of gear. And, it was just nudity.

They were all in the stream, buck naked and laughing good-naturedly while I stood on the shore with my fingers in the waistband of my panties wondering if this was a good idea.

Gretchen called out to me, "Come-on Martha, it's not like Edgar and I haven't seen naked women."

I turned just a little so Edgar wouldn't see my bush and stepped out of my panties before quickly jumping into the water.

I couldn't get Gretchen's words out of my mind that evening. What did she mean, "It's not like Edgar and I haven't seen naked women?" Where had they seen naked women? Had they seen naked women recently? It wasn't so much the words as the casual way she had said them. Were my best friends nudists, or, OMG, were they swingers?

I lost more than my panties on that camping trip. I lost some of my hang-ups about sex. Watching Gretchen and Edgar make out by the fire that night fired up my libido like nothing ever had before. Steven was almost as shy as I had been. That had been one of the characteristics that had attracted me to mehim. Neither one of us were virgins when we met, but our innate shyness make for a lot of fumbling around early in our relationship before we finally had sex together.

There was no hesitation for us that night. Steven and I hurried back to our tent as soon as we realized that Gretchen and Edgar were having sex without the least concern that we were watching them. We weren't ready to be seen doing it, but knowing that our friends were listening to us even as we heard them magnified the pleasure of an experience we already enjoyed.

When I woke up in the morning, I felt a little guilty at what we had done and more than a little embarrassed. That's not what surprised me. What surprised me is how seeing and hearing another couple have sex could intensify the passion I felt for my husband.

It was too awkward to talk about on the trail that day. I think everyone realized how self-conscious I was about what had just happened, but when the evening came ... it happened again. And this time, Steven and I made love under the stars with our friends so close they could have touched us. And I saw it for the first time clearly, even though it was still dark. I saw Edgar's cock. I saw Gretchen's pussy. I saw Edgar's cock in Gretchen's pussy. And it was HOT!

When Steven and I got home, we agree it was a fantastic experience. But it was not swinging. We were making love to our spouses, even if we were sharing the intimacy of the experience with our best friends.

Still, it was a step way beyond anything I had ever imagined doing. And it was not without some soul searching about what it would mean for our relationship. Steven seemed far more comfortable with what had happened than I was. Not that I hadn't been excited. I had been at least as excited as Steven when we were doing it and I was a very willing participant even if I would never have initiated it.

And yet, before then, our relationship was simple. We were monogamous. And our sex life was strictly private and mostly in our bedroom at night. Now ... well, what were we? We hadn't had sex with another couple, but what we had just done opened up a whole lot of undefined 'what ifs'.

Photo #2 August 8

Gretchen looking up with a stiff cock in her mouth and cum on her chin

f/4 1/30 sec ISO 1000 -0.7 step lens 44 mm

Narrated by Steven

I had been raised on monogamy but I no longer believed it was necessary for a happy marriage. The fantasy of swinging with my wife had taken shape gradually and just wouldn't let go. It had started long before we had watched our friends have sex on the camping trip that summer. It just felt so natural to make love to my wife with our friends nearby, watching us and being watched. We had shared a sexual experience with them, even if we had only touched our spouses. And the experience had enriched our marriage in ways that went beyond just invigorating our already satisfying sex lives.

Martha sensed what I was feeling and suggested maybe we could watch what many call 'couples porn'. Just to add a little adventure to our sex lives, she said. She called it fantasy, but it got us talking. I was happy that she had taken the initiative and she smiled when I told her that.

We were both excited by the films at first, but it soon became apparent that we had quite different fantasies. She liked the professionally produced films with more narrative and less sex. There was no way either of us could see ourselves in the young and stunningly beautiful men and women in those films or in the situations that were portrayed. That was fine by Martha.

I was fascinated by the amateur tapes where real couples who looked more like us shared spouses with each other. In the films I enjoyed, everyone looked so happy to be naked among their friends. I wondered what it would be like to be invited to a party where it would be as natural to ask the hostess for sex as it would be to ask for a cup of coffee.

Martha was troubled when I asked if she ever imagined swapping with Edgar and Gretchen. She warned me about mixing fantasy with reality. Besides, she said, our friends were not 'that kind of people', as if, 'that kind of people' could not be the trustworthy, generous, responsible and fun-loving couple we had come to know in Edgar and Martha.

We saw a sex positive counselor who kept us focused on how much we loved each other as we talked through our differences. The counselor finally suggested that maybe I should have sex occasionally outside of our marriage to take the pressure off Martha. That my wife didn't immediately reject the suggestion surprised me. I told both of them that I could never cheat. The counselor said it wasn't cheating if my wife gave her consent, but I didn't really want permission to have sex with other women. Not yet. I wanted to invite other couples to have sex with us.

We usually had sex on Friday nights and that Friday saw the usual preparations. My wife and I showered together. She took even more care than usual to make sure I was clean 'down there'.

I enjoyed making love to Martha. Sex is one of the many pleasures we share as a couple. I looked forward to the prospects of the evening, but I can't say that I was particularly excited by our usual routine.

I was beginning to get hard as we sat on the edge of the bed with Martha fondling my cock gently in her hand. So, I was surprised when she stood up saying something about going to the kitchen. I thought that maybe she had forgotten the Belgium chocolate we usually share after making love. I was getting a little impatient for Martha to come back.

But it wasn't Martha who came back. There was her best friend, Gretchen, standing in the doorway to our bedroom in patterned black nylon stockings and a corseted bustier. If her outfit had matching panties, I'll never know, because she wasn't wearing them. I sat there naked with that 'deer caught in the headlights' look. I clearly remember Gretchen's seductive words:

"It's just sex. You want it. I want it. Your wife wants us to have it. I know. She asked me. Now come over here and give me a hug!"

I could not move. I tried to speak. All that came out of my open mouth was a hoarse "Ah, Ah..." My very stiff cock apparently spoke to Martha for me.

"Well, at least your cock knows what it wants."

I moved my hand to maintain some semblance of modesty.

Gretchen no longer seemed concerned about the hug. She knelt in front of me, pushed my knees apart, swatted my hand away and took the tip of my cock in her mouth.

A continuous low moan escaped my lips, varying in intensity and pitch as her tongue played around my shaft in the warm wetness of her mouth.

I ran my fingers through her long auburn hair as she bobbed up and down on my cock. My wife's best friend was sucking my cock with my wife's permission. The intense sensations emanating from my cock short circuited any rational impulse to consider the implications.

I finally found my voice, but what came from my mouth was anything but profound.

"Oh, fuck! That feels good."

She lifted her head and looked up at me. Her green eyes sparkled as she caught and held my attention. Without breaking her gaze, she let my cockhead slip from her lips as she settled down between my thighs and lifted my scrotum up with the palm of her hand. Her tongue touched the base of my cock and begin the long ascent to the tiny slit in the tip. A drop of precum had oozed out and ran down my shaft to meet her ascending tongue. Her mouth engulfed my cockhead again. Her bright red painted lips sealed around my shaft as she sucked the fluid that was now freely flowing on the cusp of my orgasm.

I wish I could say that I lasted most of the afternoon and brought her to orgasm multiple times before finally spilling my seed. But I did not. Technically, it might have been premature ejaculation, but no one seemed to mind. Certainly not me!

I gave her fair warning.

"I'm ... I'm about to cum."

She looked up at me, a lock of her hair falling over one eye, and gave me a devilish grin.

"I know ... Isn't that the point?"

With renewed vigor, she swallowed as much as she could of my shaft and pressed my cock against the back of her throat. I came hard. Pulse after pulse of cum shot into her mouth before my cock sprang free. The next spurt flew through the air and left a thick white streak across her face. She grabbed my cock with both hands and directed the remaining fluid down onto her neck and chest. Then she let a dollop of cum drip from the corner of her mouth and run down between her soft white breasts.

She again locked eyes with me so intensely that I could not have looked away.

"You're not done yet." She stated as if it were a command. And, I guess, it was. "You're going to fuck me."

And then she stood up and looked down on me siting naked on the edge of the bed.

I have no trouble getting an erection when faced by a willing naked woman, but I had just cum. Normally, orgasms with my wife were followed by chocolate and snuggling in the warm afterglow of sex. Maybe a little later, I would rise to the occasion, so to speak, if Martha was willing for another turn, but gone were the days of the continuous fuck. Or, so I thought.

My cock lost a few degrees from vertical, spit out one last drop of cum and then resumed its previous position pointing straight up at the wet pussy now hovering over me.

She put her hands on my shoulders to steady herself as she crawled on top of me. Her breasts were inches from my lips when she was finally in the position she wanted. She giggled as I sucked one of her nipples into her mouth. It smelled musky and tasted of salt and oysters.

"Uuu..." She cooed. "I love men that eat their own cum."

It was true. Her breasts were sticky with my cum.

Before I had time to protest, her mouth was pressed against mine. Her tongue forced its way through my lips at the same instant that my cock slipped effortlessly into her wet pussy. Her tongue reeked of musk and oysters ... the taste of my cum. I sucked greedily.

We were connected in a full circle. I sucked her tongue deeper into my mouth as she squeezed on my cock buried deep inside her.

Again, I wish I could say that I lasted most of the afternoon and brought her to orgasm multiple times before finally spilling my seed. But I did not. She came quickly and was screaming obscenities as she came. It put me over the top and for the second time I released my seed into her body.

I had not moved or even changed positions from where I had been sitting when Martha had left the room. I had been sucked off and fucked by Martha's friend in less time than I usually took to shower (although, in my defense, I do tend to take rather long showers).

Gretchen stood before me looking very different from the woman who had entered the room only a few minutes earlier. Her round face was flushed. Her hair was mushed. Her chest glistened with the mixture of sweat and cum. Cum dripped from her gaping pussy hole and ran down her thigh.

She leaned in to kiss me again. This time just a friendly peck. And then she turned and walked out the door where she had come in only a few minutes earlier.

My wife was standing in the door now. Maybe she had been watching the whole show or maybe she had just been listening. I didn't know and it didn't matter. She was smiling.

Martha came over to the bed and lay down beside me as if nothing had happened.

"Now, where were we before the ... ah ... interruption". She giggled as she said it, obviously pleased with herself.

Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me, making sure that her nipples gently trailed across my chest as she moved on top of me.

"I love you!"

We both spoke in unison.

Photo #3 August 15

Martha, smiling broadly, wearing a sheer dress with plunging neckline and very short skirt.

f6.3 1/100 sec ISO 400 62 mm

Narrated by Martha

I had taken a risk in asking Gretchen to have sex with my husband without telling Steven about it in advance. I knew it was a rationalization, but Steven and I had talked about the possibility with our counselor. Steven wasn't opposed to having extra-marital sex without me, but he really wanted both us to jump right into swinging at the same time. I just wasn't ready. He was. Besides, I knew he had the 'hots' for Gretchen, especially after seeing her naked on our camping trip that summer. And I knew Edgar was OK with it.

When I woke on the morning before my 'little arrangement' with Gretchen, I wasn't sure I could go through with it. I walked over to Gretchen's to share my doubts with her and maybe call the whole thing off. Edgar met me at the door. Gretchen had already left to run an errand.

Edgar invited me in for some coffee while I waited. How could I refuse his offer? So, like a good neighbor, I followed him back into the kitchen and watched as he busied himself preparing the promised cup.

When he had the coffee set up to brew, he looked up at me and smiled in a neighborly sort of way. I was coiled as tight as a spring and Edgar was as relaxed as if this was any other Saturday morning. Did he even remember what Gretchen and I had told him about our plans?

"I can't wait for Gretchen to get back?" Edgar said, with a sly grin.

"Why? She's just gone out to run an errand." I replied innocently, somewhat perplexed by his enthusiasm.

"Not now! This evening. I can't wait for her to get back from her tryst with Steven. She'll be so hot for me after a good fucking."

I was taken aback at first, but soon found my nerve.

"You men are so kinky! You know most couples would have a big fight and then not speak to each other ... or worse."

I wish I hadn't added the "... or worse" onto that last thought. It was true that most husbands would be jealous and many would react with anger. Edgar's enthusiasm for what Gretchen and I had planned for the evening made me feel a little guilty. Why was I worried about being jealous when my husband and our two friends were not in the least troubled by the prospect of swapping our spouses. There was something about all this that I was missing.