clubs that line Bourbon Street to retreat from the ninety-degree heat.
We didn’t even realize until we were shoving dollar bills down a girl’s thong that we were in a strip club. It was all a drunken blur. At some point we got a lap dance from a girl from Atlanta, our hometown. Indeed, she was the first girl to ever make me second-guess my sexuality. We spent the rest of our night getting lap dances from her. Then we invited her to our hotel room. We had the best sex. We paid her well and I made a simple comment that would change our lives for good.
“I wish I could take you home with me,” I said, joking but serious.
“You can,” was her response. “Are you two into having a live-in?”
Neither Jake nor I knew what that was. A nanny was the first thing that came to my mind.
“Both our kids are grown and out of the house,” I told her.
“That’s perfect—we won’t have to hide from anybody.”
Then I understood that what she was referring to had nothing to do with babysitting. Jacob and I took her number. We discussed it at breakfast, lunch, and dinner the next day. We weighed pros and cons. By the time we landed back in Atlanta three days later, we were calling the girl to set it up.
Her name was Jasmine. She had moved to New Orleans to live with a boyfriend after high school. He became abusive and she left him. Stripping was a way for her to support herself. But it wasn’t panning out the way she’d hoped. She had heard of girls getting more money and stability by becoming live-ins to wealthy couples. She wanted that opportunity for herself. And Atlanta was familiar territory for her, so we fit the bill.
She moved in with us a month after she had danced her way into our lives. She showed us so much about sex and how to achieve true ecstasy. She was a gift. She left us at the end of three months, but not before she showed us how to look for our next live-in.
There were two websites she introduced us to, TheRedLightCenter.com and SwingLifestyle.com. The first one caught Jake and I totally off guard. It’s a virtual world of partying, drinking, vacationing, socializing, and of course having sex with random people. You create an avatar that is very lifelike. Then you virtually interact with people as you would in the real world. You find someone compatible for you and you end up having virtual sex with him or her and, if interested, you can arrange to meet in person and have actual live sex. A lot of people in our lifestyle go on that site to find fuck buddies.
It was intriguing, but Jake and I found SwingLifestyle.com to be more our speed. First of all, it was filled with single females. Second of all, it was simple. You sign up to be a member, set up a profile, and seek out single females who fit the bill. You can find parties, groups, clubs, and even read stories by other swingers. There had been many occasions where Jake and I had gotten extremely horny simply visiting the site.
It was the best resource Jasmine could’ve led us to. And every time we went on SwingLifestyle to search out our next prospect, I thought about her, wondering if her profile would pop up.
Anyway, Jacob and I adapted to our new lifestyle quite well. While we were comfortable with it and open in our own way, our children didn’t know about it. Neither did the rest of our family or close friends. Only our live-ins and our Puss & Boots members. We liked it that way. A double life wasn’t as hard to lead as we initially feared. And it actually made the whole thing more exciting. We were content.
* * *
Jake’s body jolted. He was cumming. I put out my cigarette and joined Morgan at the base of my husband’s penis. She licked one side, I did the other, our tongues collecting his semen. We swallowed and then kissed each other, passionately, sloppily. We caressed and then nibbled on each other’s breasts. This got us all aroused again. Jake positioned me on all fours and, parting my lips, entered me from behind. Morgan placed her lower half beneath my face and began sliding her fingers up and down her slit. Watching her kept me good and lubricated for my husband’s pleasure. We were both headed toward a second orgasm and there was no better way to spend my Saturday night.
Chapter 2
Thanksgiving Disguised As a Feast
Tori & Kevin
The drive to my mom’s house reminded me of just how much I loved the fall. The collage of orange and red leaves glowing in the sunlight always made me think of my childhood. I imagined myself playing in the orchards, running through the corn maze trying to lose my dad, eating candy corn, and picking out the biggest pumpkin I could find. It made me smile. I missed my dad. It had been a year since his death. In fact, two life-changing developments had occurred within that last year: my wedding, then two days later the passing of my father. That was the reason I agreed to marry Kevin so quickly after his proposal in the first place. My father was ill and we all knew he didn’t have much time. It meant everything to him to walk his only daughter down the aisle. So despite not being ready for marriage, I recited my vows in front of eighty-five of Kevin and my closest family members and friends.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The horn took me away from my memories. It was Kevin’s way of announcing our arrival. He did it every time we pulled up to my mom’s brick ranch home. Now she was ill too. Her sight was failing her. So Kevin and I were trying to spend as much time with her as possible, especially during holidays.
It was Thanksgiving Day and she had managed to cook us up a traditional turkey feast. Cooking was something my mom excelled at. She could do it with her eyes closed, let alone legally blind.
I jumped out the passenger seat and hurried down the rest of the driveway to my mother’s doorstep, where she stood with her arms out waiting to greet us with warm hugs.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Mama.” I kissed her on her cheek as we embraced.
“Happy Thanksgiving, baby.” She kissed me back.
“Hey, Mom.” Kevin hugged and kissed her next. “You’re looking good.” She loved his compliments, said he was just like my dad in that way. It was probably why she always thought Kevin was so perfect for me.
“Are you two hungry?” she asked, leading us into the home I grew up in.
“Starving,” Kevin said. He had taken a strong liking to my mom as well. She filled the void of him not having his own mother.
In the beginning of our relationship Kevin hardly ever talked about his mom, and whenever I asked about her, he’d cut the conversation short. It wasn’t until later that I found out she had died of a drug overdose when he was a teenager. I felt sorry for him, knowing that it had a huge impact on him. So when he and my mom connected, it was electric. He was the son she never had and she was the mom he’d always wished he had. I couldn’t have asked for a better situation.
“Tori, honey, set the table. Kevin, go wash your hands,” my mom instructed.
We did what we were told, parting ways briefly. It was right then that my phone alerted me to a text message. I looked down at the screen and saw that it was from him. I hadn’t heard from him since our first physical encounter a week ago. A bit of excitement ran through my veins, but also nervousness. I had a short window of time before Kevin would emerge from the bathroom. I opened the message.
JuJu & Ferrari
His
