Cheryl: I was dimly aware of Cliff out the corner of my eye. I wanted to give him a great show so I made sure I swallowed every last drop. I could feel great spasms of pleasure surge through Mark as he pumped his juice down my throat. I think the sight of his wife gargling some other man’s come helped Cliff to finish off himself. I heard him groan and knew it as the sound of a man, my man, finding satisfaction.
Then we all worked on Jenny. The guys were both a little tired, so Jenny opened a bedside drawer and took out a substantial vibrator. She lay back on the bed and spread her legs. Mark kissed her mouth. Cliff tickled her nipples with his tongue and I inserted the vibrator slowly inside her and switched it on. The three of us brought her off in a matter of seconds, the vibrator inducing huge, sweeping waves of orgasm that made her whole body shiver and twist.
Cliff: And that was that. We had a coffee, chatted for a while and left.
Chapter Nineteen
Cheryl: We didn’t talk much on the way home. I think both of us were feeling the same thing. A mixture of emotions. Firstly there was excitement and discovery. Like we’d entered a new world together and had just realised how much there was to explore.
Cliff: But at the same time I think that car journey was the first time we started worrying a little. We’ve talked about it since. The problem was almost that it was too good. We both wanted to do more, but felt that this spelled the beginning of the end for our regular sex life. We didn’t feel like freaks but we knew our behaviour wasn’t the way normal couples went about conducting their sex lives.
We saw Mark and Jenny again, they introduced us to another club they attended. It was more exclusive, and further away, near Birmingham, but it was worth it. The members were all a lot more attractive than the one Fi had introduced us to. I guess you needed to be vetted by existing members before you could join, plus it was damned expensive. But again, it was worth it.
Cheryl: We met dozens of other couples there. And not just couples either. There were threesomes there, I mean people who lived as a threesome, all sharing the same bed. There were doms and submissives, people who just liked to watch. Anything you can imagine really. We all met in a huge basement on the outskirts of the city. There was music and a bar. Even bouncers.
There were rooms you could hire for private parties and we made good use of these. We started off just meeting other couples and having our own private sessions, but one night we were invited to an orgy. I don’t know how many people were involved, maybe twenty? Roughly equal between men and women. The only rules were no violence and safe sex. There were bowls of condoms everywhere. We walked in to find things were already underway and I didn’t know where to start.
Cliff: I looked at Cheryl, winked and said ‘Let’s split up, see you later.’ Then I went off and joined a couple of girls who looked like their tongues might be getting tired.
Cheryl: I was grabbed, politely, by a huge man who’d seen me come in. He looked like he spent most of his life in the gym. All he was wearing was a pair of trainers, and his massive cock jutted out in front of him. He never said a word to me, he just threw me down and pulled a condom on. Then rammed it into me. Another man slid over and presented his member to me and I sucked this stranger off while another slowly fucked me. It was an incredible night, that first orgy. But even as I was there, doing what I loved, and happy at the thought that my man was nearby, sharing in this experience, I had this sense something was wrong.
Cliff: I had the same feeling and it took us a while to work out what it was. It was that for the first time we weren’t being intimate with each other. I saw Cheryl from time to time as my cock, lips and fingers worked their way through to other people in the room, but we weren’t side by side as we satisfied half the swingers in the East Midlands.
Cheryl: I felt it when I took a wander through the room and finally found Cliff on a pile of cushions being blown by a young guy. I’d never seen him even touch another man before and I realised that even though we were both travelling in the same direction, we were on different tracks.
Having said that, the sight of my husband receiving head excited me at the time. I stroked the stranger’s balls from behind as his head bobbed up and down on Cliff’s pole.
Cliff: I hadn’t even realised it was a man at first, but when I looked down and saw this young chap sucking so enthusiastically I didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. I closed my eyes and relaxed, enjoying the sensation. You see, it isn’t about the person. It’s about both the sensation and also the thought of doing something you’re not really supposed to. Every time we explored something new, it was exciting and arousing. It seemed like breaking new ground, stepping into forbidden territory. Problem was, each time you need to take things a little further.
When I opened my eyes and saw Cheryl there with her hand between this guy’s legs I was surprised and, for a second, I felt ashamed. Like I’d been caught by my mum with a jazz mag. The guilt was quick to fade though, and I was left with that deliciously dirty feeling, and I surprised myself again by coming suddenly and violently, nearly choking the poor lad who had his lips wrapped around my pole.
Cheryl: I felt a little angry at Cliff, then at myself for reacting like that. I pushed the stranger on to his back and straddled him, grabbing his cock, and rolling on a condom. I guided him into my pussy, already well-lubricated from all the firm fucking I’d had so far that night. I squeezed my muscles as I slipped down. Cliff came up to us and slipped a finger in my arse. He knows just what I like. A finger is fine, anything more I’m not so comfortable with. We stayed long enough to finish off our new friend and then, by mutual consent, we left.
Cliff: We left it a couple of days then had a chat over a bottle of wine. We both felt the same thing. That although we were both excited by new experiences, and wanted to do more exploring, with new people, that we were both worried we might end up moving away from one another. Cheryl asked me whether I was interested in sleeping with more men. I thought about it for a while but decided that I didn’t want to pursue it. It did make me wonder, though. Maybe we’re all a little bit bisexual. We decided that in future we’d not go out to clubs and parties anymore. We wanted more control over things, so we decided we’d just host events in our own house.
Oh, I should say that by now we’d moved out of the inner-city flat and bought a large modern house in the suburbs. Nothing special and much nicer on the inside than the outside, loads of space inside. Comfy couches, thick rugs and heavy curtains.
Cheryl: Yes, so we were in a position where we could have house parties without the neighbours getting suspicious. We advertised in a local contacts magazine; they’re much more exclusive than the internet. And we arranged a get-together one Friday night. Six couples as well as us. Everyone could stay over if they liked. We spent ages getting everything just right, but then remembered that we had my parents coming over for lunch the next day. I made sure I set two different alarm clocks: the last thing I needed was for Mum and Dad to walk in to a house full of sex-maniacs, still in a slumbering cluster-fuck. We weren’t expecting anything too wild, but we were sure we’d be happy with this new arrangement. Just to make sure there was enough spice we went on a mini-break to Amsterdam and came back with a bewildering variety of toys. God knows what they were all supposed to do, one thing looked a bit like a garlic press and I was never game to try that out. We had dinner first while we all got to know each other. The men were all okay-looking, though none of them were exactly George Clooney. The girls were better and I could tell Cliff particularly liked one girl called Sam. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we decided to all move into the lounge for coffee and Viagra and one thing led to another. We hadn’t been clear about whether or how we wanted to pair off, and someone suggested we play Sixty-Second Fumble to get the ball rolling, as it were. We all wrote a sex act on a piece of paper, pink for girls, blue for boys, and popped it into a hat. Then we passed the hat around. The acts all had to be hetero as some of the party weren’t as liberal a
s others. First, a chap called Gary picked a slip and read it out: ‘give Caroline a good tongue thrashing.’ Caroline giggled and spread her legs as Gary came crawling over, growling like a sex-starved lion. He lifted up her thin blue dress and gently eased her panties down.
‘Your time starts now!’ Cliff called and clicked a stopwatch.
Caroline smiled at this man she’d only just met and lay back on the sofa as he dived between her legs and started lapping away. She lay perfectly still, savouring the sensation as her husband looked on, almost drooling at the sight of another man licking his wife’s pussy.
When Cliff called time, Caroline looked annoyed.
Cliff: After Gary, Sam had a go, and she had to give Gary a blow job. She was a good-looking girl, short, jet-black hair with high cheekbones and blue eyes. Nice tits too. Gary could hardly believe his good fortune as this young stunner took his dick in her mouth. He was gutted when the sixty seconds was up though. After Sam was Pete and he had to fuck Cheryl from behind.
Cheryl: It was good, but over so quickly, and, to be honest, by this point I was starting to wonder if this had been a good idea. Everyone was being a little tame. We needed to turn the heat up if Cliff and I were going to find the home front an acceptable alternative to the clubs. Next was my turn. I chose one of the pink slips. As I’d hoped, it was Cliff’s and it was as hot as I’d suspected it would be. ‘Use a sex toy of your choice on Clive,’ it said. Clive was Sam’s boyfriend, and the best looking of the guys. I looked in the box we’d brought back from Amsterdam …
Cliff: ‘Anything to declare, madam?’
Cheryl: … and took out a string of ben-wah balls. I’d never actually used one of these before but I’d seen it on videos and had been itching to get stuck in …
Cliff: Literally!
Cheryl: Enough with the jokes, sweetheart. Now Clive’s face suggested he wasn’t so sure about this, but what could he do? Sam seemed fascinated. I stood him up, spun him around and jerked his trousers and pants down around his knees. Then I leant him over until his backside was thrusting out at us. Cliff started the stopwatch and I popped a spot of lube into his arse. He flinched, but not so much as he did when I inserted the first ball into his anus.
Cliff: If we wanted to liven things up, this was the way to do it. These couples were just local dabblers you see, not sex-mad semi-professionals like we were. Cheryl popped another ball in, then another, until she had six in there. I looked down at the stopwatch, time was up, but I let it run.
Cheryl: I reached down between Clive’s legs and took hold of his rock-hard penis. He shifted a little to give me better access, clearly enjoying it. I could see the others start to shift a little closer to one another. And I saw Sam’s hand slip into Cliff’s lap, rubbing his bulge. I began jerking Clive off as I slowly pulled the balls out, the smooth steel stretching the tight sphincter, then popping out suddenly, one by one. Clive groaned as the last ball came free, and I spun him round and kissed him, gripping his cock. Then I sat down.
Cliff: After that the party really got started. It would take too long to describe the whole thing, the bit I remember most was having Sam riding my cock while Caroline straddled my face. The two girls French-kissed as I jammed my tongue as far as it would go into Caroline’s snatch.
Cheryl: I orgasmed from anal sex that night, which is something I’d not done before. I’m not really sure why I let it happen, maybe I’d had a bit too much to drink. But Pete was doing me up the bum, he was very gentle and lubed me up very carefully. At the same time Gary was sliding an eight-inch rubber dildo deep into my pussy. I cried afterwards with the emotion of it. I felt like something had broken inside me. Maybe it was a barrier, or maybe my last reservation.
Anyway that first party was a success, and we just managed to get everyone out the next day before my parents turned up. I installed them in the hastily-tidied lounge and went into the kitchen to give my husband a hug; it was the first time we’d really had to chat since we’d woken up in a heap of naked bodies.
I asked him what he thought. ‘It was good,’ he said. ‘Let’s do it again, but next time let’s get four couples, and we’ll get everyone to dress up. What about bondage games?’
I nodded, but I had my reservations – were we just starting the cycle again, only this time at home? I was just about to voice my concerns when Mum walked in with the string of ben-wah beads around her neck.
‘What an unusual necklace,’ she said, stroking it. ‘Where did you get it?’
Cliff: The incident with the beads was funny, but in hindsight, I can see it as symptomatic of our problem. The sex addiction that we now recognise we have was always there, threatening to interfere with our ‘normal lives’. Most of our spare time was spent organising parties, buying toys, surfing the internet looking for experienced swingers. I wouldn’t say our jobs suffered, in fact mine was VERY secure after we chanced upon my boss wearing a rubber gimp suit at a sex fair in Germany. He must have thought he was safe going over there. But despite that, neither of us seemed to be going anywhere in our careers. There were no changes of direction, no big holidays, no friends outside our swinger groups and not even the remotest thought of babies. The swinging consumed our personal lives.
Cheryl: I should point out that by this stage it had been a long time since we’d had sex, just the two of us. I can’t think when. Once we tried watching some porn, but it just didn’t seem real. We were hooked on the real thing. One time we did try it, without any kind of aid and … well …
Cliff: Go on, you can say it.
Cheryl: Cliff couldn’t do it. For the first time ever, he couldn’t get it up. Which didn’t make me feel very good, even though I understood why. So we kept going with the parties, what else could we do? They were fun, and we attracted quite a little clique. We met some genuine friends and everything seemed perfect for a while. We’d sometimes get approached by new couples who we’d break in gently, like Jenny and Mark broke us in. More often though we liked to have more experienced couples, people who were into harder stuff.
Cliff: Every time we hosted a party, we’d think up new games, or new scenarios we could introduce to get people to do the things we wanted. Some people didn’t like it. Once Fi came over when she was in town, but she left after Cheryl started role-playing a rape scenario.
Cheryl: Eventually it all came to a head, we had another party, there were four other couples this time. Again, we played the paper game, only this time we’d gone for broke. I made Cliff attach nipple clamps to some poor girl. She went along with it, but she didn’t look happy, and neither did her husband. They left early and as they walked to the car I heard him say ‘We’re not coming back here again.’
Cliff: But what I wrote down was worse. I wrote a blue paper, and asked a man to fuck my wife in the arse.
Cheryl: I told you all already I didn’t like anal sex, it hurts me. At the right time, and when I’m properly lubed and ready, then it’s okay, and there was that time I came once …
Cliff: Which is why I thought it would be okay. I was transfixed by the sight of my wife, face down on a bean bag with a big bloke on top of her, pounding into her tight backside. I loved it. And the fact I knew she was unsure about it made it even more sexy for me.
Cheryl: I did hate it. I knew Cliff wanted to see, but it didn’t feel right and I burst into tears. It was very embarrassing. The poor man apologised and we ended the party early.
Cliff: And it was then that I realised that I’d gone too far, and that I’d always go too far. However good the sex is, I always want to push it just that bit further. And I was willing to see my own wife used and abused to satisfy my urges.
Cheryl: It wasn’t just you, Cliff, you know that. We both went too far. I was there beside you through all of this.
Cliff: So that’s when we knew we needed help. We looked up sex addiction on the internet. Found this place.
Cliff and Cheryl: And here we are.
Chapter Twenty
‘Thanks Clif
f, thanks Cheryl,’ Verity said, nodding and smiling at them encouragingly. As had now become the practice, the others gathered around and one by one patted the couple on the shoulder with a smile or a few understanding words.
Shelley had never experienced a relationship with anything like the intensity of Cliff and Cheryl’s. But she’d had a few boyfriends, and she’d watched enough boys she liked go off with other women. She found it hard to understand how two people so much in love could bear to watch each other sleep with total strangers. She had thought there’d been moments during the joint confessional when each of them briefly betrayed feelings of regret or jealousy.
This was an issue for Freya and her Psychology of Sex column, Shelley thought. Maybe she’d suggest it when she got back.
Cian shook Cliff’s hand, then bent down to kiss Cheryl on the cheek. Now that almost everyone had told their story, Shelley reflected, the group was tighter, more caring. She glanced over at Larry. As the only two still to confess, they were somewhat sidelined. Larry smiled back shyly. Shelley felt for him, but she was more concerned for herself. Each day brought her closer to the time when she’d have to make her own confessional, and the time she’d certainly be found out.
Confessions Page 20