Monday, December 11, 2006


Like I said, you never know.

I threw it out there, the idea about going to a swingers club. To break the monotony. It had been two years since we fucked. Wasn't like I didn't want to. Shawnelle was the heroine of my every waking fantasy, part of my morning ablutions - shit, shower, shave, Shawnelle. It's just somehow we became like the friends of your parents, Cranky to each other, sleeping in separate beds and from what I read swinging often saved relationships made couples stronger. I didn't think about all that bullshit, I was just going with my gut. I wanted us to be like it was in the beginning. Wild, adventurous, open, together. Nothing we didn't try over the years. Maybe that was it. We'd done it all. Like a really good bender, there comes a time to stop, reflect and then quit.

We'd tried everything to fix things. Couples therapy and what not. The only thing that worked over the long haul though had been the fights. When we physically got into it. Threw shit, kicked, screamed and duked it out - fists and biting. We always ended up in bed all fucked out and laughing. But the peace bonds and restraining order put an end to that. Nosy fucking neighbours.

So when I threw it out there, it was a move of desperation, not knowing how she would react, not knowing what else to try. She snorted, squinted, turned her pretty little head asked if I was serious.

We went Friday night. To a swingers club about an hour down the highway just so's we wouldn't run into nobody we knew. From what I read about swinging it was all about trust and allowing other people to say no thank you. I didn't really see that as being a problem for me. I headed for the bar and Shawnelle went to mingle and flirt - troll. At the bar there was this hot little wop with large olive bazooms serving and I asked her where her hubby was, but she was just there to work.

I turned drinks in hand to go and find Shawnelle, and there she was introducing me to this other couple. My first thought was this ain't going to work. He was this geeky sort and so was she. Not Shawnelle's type for a guy. Nor mine for a onenighter, even with a twelve on board. But what the fuck. We had agreed to give this a shot. We were there for the experience, as a way to shock our system back into normal not to find long term friends. Reminded me of the early days when we use to role play. You know, go out and meet in bar and pretend we had never met each other and then head out back where I'd rape her in the back of the van. Fun shit like that.

We drove back to their house, an A frame in a subdivid, and sat around the living room under the cathedral ceilings breaking the ice and having drinks by a roaring fire, establishing a comfort level and living the cliche. I offered to roll a fatty but the guy seemed to be against that. Don't know what he did for a living but obviously he wasn't a cop. The awkwardness dissolved fairly quick just the same, at least for me and Shawnelle and me as we good body stone on from hash brownies we eaten in the Olds on the way down the road. They''d been doing this a lot, I'd a guessed, though we talked about everything but the fucking that was inevitably to take place. In fact the fucking had gone out of my mind really such was the atmosphere, like we were getting ready to enjoy a night of euchre They weren't trying to sell us on the benefits or shit although he did offer me a Viagra.

Somehow Shawnelle and the guy - Dave, I think, did I say that? - had separated themselves from me and the chick. Gone off to see the rest of the house. Her name was Debbie. She came and sat closer beside me on the couch. Everything I said made her laugh. I was on a roll. And when I get on a roll it's hard for me to stop.

All at about the same moment, she stopped laughing and began kissing my neck and nibbling on my ear. She put her hand on my crotch. And I heard Shawnelle. Coming from upstairs from an unseen loft bedroom. She was moaning. Things were underway.

I was rock hard. Debbie was really starting to get turned on by me undoing her hair from a bun and straddling me on the sofa telling me what a real man I was and the like.

And Shawnelle was upstairs moaning.

Suddenly I was overcome with regret. There I was with my tongue down the throat of a more than acceptable if somewhat conservative bit of tail, and I distinctly remember thinking to myslef, what have I done. Which is not normal for me. I normally never say that to myself till I'm in jail.

Shawnelle's moaning was at once turning me on and making me sick, like watching a cat get run over by a truck. I could tell she was really enjoying it and I could also tell by her moans that Dave was going down on her. There was a way she moaned then when I did that and only when I went down on her. And I'm not sure if she ever fucked around on me but I was sure that the way she moaned was reserved for me. Apparently not.

I didn't really have to imagine much, and when her moaning stopped after having arrived and his began all staccato oh oh oh like he was the stick boy in a stag scene on a bad sitcom, I concluded that she was now dick in mouth. She could work my cock for hours. Had a way of bringing me to the brink and back. And with him on Viagra I thought this may be a while.

I was doing my best to concentrate on Debbie. Grabbing her little ass and pulling her hair. But she kept talking. Fuck do I hate that. Shawnelle never talked. Neither did I. We only ever moved over each other without as much as a word. Worked on some level where communication was entirely physical.

And here was Debbie, talking.

I have to assume she was getting more turned on by her imaginings of what happening to her hubby than by me. God you've got nice big shoulders and your hairy chest and your strong arms and I'm thinking just shut the fuck up and trying to figure out a way to get out of this situation cause my hard on is receding the more this bitch yaks and I got gas and gotta take a shit and the idea of Shawnelle blowing some guy is no longer a fantasy, its real and all I want is to be at home with my wife like the way it was thinking this probably has broken the barrier for her and I'm ready to leave and Debbie keeps talking oh you have such nice strong hands not like Dave, oh really, Dave has tiny little hands, oh really - I mean obviously she really isn't into me as much as she's not into Dave.

I mean their wife swappers, something gotta be not right in their relationship. Like everything maybe.

I lift her back off me - at this point her blouse is undone and what was barely filling out and A cup has spilled out and are flopping there - I mean small tits is one thing, but small floppy tits like a bitch all milked out by her pups is another, and I say look, I gotta go to the can, but it's broken and I can't get Dave to do a thing round here and the pair of them upstairs are now humping and I can tell that Shawnelle is into this guy as much as she's into the fucking and I'm disgusted with myself and fell nothing but shame.

As my only means of escape I offer to fix her toilet. It's better back there. Away from the moaning. The can is just off the kitchen. Debbie offers to make tea. Funny how some women when they're rejected turn all servile. I threw down my bag of dope and told her to roll one. Go on, never mind thumb dick, I says and she does fumbling and giggling and sparks it up while I disassemble the tank and take the float out and begin to fix it on the counter where Debbie is now sitting cross legged and smoking up and all relaxed and laughing again at my dopey remarks and my mind is off the shit that's just gone down out there, up there, when just there, in the doorway to the kitchen, is standing both Shawnelle and Dave, all fucked out, both with the most disgusted looks on their faces, both of them saying almost at the same time and with the same level of contempt, what the fuck is going on here?

The drive home was silent, Shawnelle just staring out the window arms crossed. The only thing she said was a real indignant I can't believe you fixed somebody else's toilet when you won't even fix ours. I didn't really realize it just then but something had gone from our relationship for good at that moment. Normally I'd pull the car over after a remark like that and start beating the shit out of her.

But I didn't.

We got home and she went to bed. I looked at some zoo porn on the net had a drink and crawled in beside her. I put an arm around her waist. She removed it. Don't you ever touch me again, asshole.

Got up late Saturday morning. Shawnelle was gone. She left. She'd left before, many many times, but this time I knew it was for good.

I mean, fuck me. She was the only woman I ever loved.