Renee Stevens: Driven Into Swapping

"Very true," he agreed. "My wife and I very complete sexual relationship."

The more he talked about it, the more he realized the situation he was in.

"Well," he shrugged, "I guess that to change with the times it's hard, because I never thought I'd have to share her."

"But she's had to share you all these years," Harry reminded him.

"Oh, don't mention my purple past," he said. "I thought I'd lived it down."

"Do you still have that mistress?" he chuckled.

"0h, she wasn't any mistress," Vince defended himself. "She was just a little, college girl who needed some help with her clothes."

"I know" he smiled. "So you placed it in her pussy to help her get some clothes."

"It was an exchange," he said, "and a pretty fair exchange too."

"Well, don't think your wife doesn't know about everything you're doing," Harry assured him.

"Why, did she tell you?

"No," Harry observed, "but women have an instinctive way of knowing when a man Is playing around. They don't say much sometimes, but they know it."

"That's a lot of crap," he said. "She would have clawed my eye out if she'd ever thought that I was out balling anybody else. It has been rough these last few years, keeping up the pace with a chick was paying for at her place and trying to satisfy my wife too. After all, how much juice can I get out of those balls?"

"Don't ask me," Harry laughed. "That's your problem."

"Alright, alright," he said. "Invite your wife Alice over. Tell her we'll have a buffet, heavy on the booze, and light on the food."

"I understand," Harry assured him. "I go for these little sexual parties quite often."' "That's good," Vines assured him, "because I need some guidance. Take me by the hand and, lead me into the paths of sexual sin and swap."

When he got home that night his wife was bubbling over with new Ideas.

"Now, What are you up to?" he asked, as she was filling out an application form.

"I don't see a reason in the world why a woman can't do all the things a man can," she said.

"What are you up to?" he insisted.

"I thought I'd take up karate," she said.

"Oh no," be said. "I can hardly put up with you throwing things, but if you are studying karate, what am I going to do when you're mad at me?"

"Well," she said, "we women must learn to defend ourselves."

"You women have it all over us men. I wish I could trade places with you, Trudy."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd love washing the floors, vacuuming the rugs, and cleaning the windows till they sparkle."

"You haven't done any of those things in ages," he said. "You never clean up the place unless my mother is coming over."

"You don't give me much time," she said. "I have so many other activities."

"Like that gossipy bridge club you go to every Wednesday, and all those good for nothing drunk parties that you wait to stage."

"Thaat isn't a nice way to talk at all," she said. "We women do put on a few social functions, and I'll admit there is a little booze there. But it's certainly not a collection of female drunks."

"Now where were you today, for example?" he demanded.

"I was working for a new charity," she explained. "And it's none of your business."

"What kind of charity?' he demanded.

"Well, it's an L.S.D. Alumni charity."

"An L.S.D. Alumni charity?" he said. "What the hell is it?' "Well, it's people who have burned out their brains on L.S.D.," she said, "and I want to help them."

"How? he asked. "With L.S.D. cookies or something?"

"Why no," she said. "We make picture books for them so they can look at something. After all, they've got to have something to do. And they don't have much of a mind left. But they can appreciate pictures, so we get together and cut out the pictures from the magazines and make scrap books for them."

"Well, that is a nice gesture," he said, "but really, baby, I wish you'd think of me and my charity. This house, these floors, and how about dinner?' "Why don't you take me out tonight?" she asked.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because, if I was stepping out on you, my lover would be taking me to a restaurant"

"But I'm not stepping out on you," he insisted. "I don't have to take you to a restaurant."

"I just used that absurd argument," she said, "to make it feel more natural for you. But the truth of the matter is, you've neglected your husbandly duties.

You should take me out more often. I'm beginning to feel caged in."

"You're beginning to feel caged in," he said. "How do you think I'm beginning to feel?

"Well, I have no idea," she said. "I can't jump inside your mind."

"Well it's lucky for you you can't," he told her, "because if you knew how angry I am at you right now, you wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, I would too," she said. "You always get red in the face when you're furious. However, at least your eyes flash a bit, and you talk. I get so sick and tired of those droopy days when you drag in here and I know that you probably have been out having sex on the side."

"Why is that?" he demanded.

"Because, baby," she said, "I think I know when I see lipstick on your shorts."

"What are you talking about?' he demanded.

She went over to a kitchen cabinet and pulled out a drawer. A large folder was there, and then she reached in and pulled out a pair of shorts.

"What have you got there?" he demanded.

"A pair of your shorts, dear, and lipstick."

"Put my soiled shorts back in that," he said.

"This is the evidence," she said, "that I would use in court. It would be a terrible thing indeed, to admit such connections were going on. However, I have every reason to believe that you have had some girls going down on you."

"No," he insisted. "I must have cut myself."

"It's not blood, baby," she said. "It's lipstick and, I don't think raspberry lipstick could be mistaken for blood."

"How do you know it's raspberry?" he demanded.

"Because I checked it out," she said.

"How did you do that?" he insisted on knowing.

"I went to the beauty department of a local department store. It was embarrassing to pull my husband's shorts out and ask if the girls could tell me what type of lipstick it was."

"You did that to check on me?" he demanded.

"Yes," she said, "because I wanted to know if I had good grounds for divorce. I think I do."

"I hope you haven't taken those soiled shorts with the raspberry lipstick to a lawyer," he said.

"Well, no honey," she admitted. "I haven't done that yet."

"Well you'd' better never do that," he sa1d, "alright, we're going to have that get together next Saturday night. You wanted to swap. Sure I think Alice is a nice chick. And, I'm sure Harry will dig you. Good luck."

"You mean good fuck, don't you, honey?" she smiled.

"You said it, baby," be said. "I'm not for this swapping, scene at all."

"I am," she snapped. "I'm tired, of getting a soft cock shoved up me. I want, a good rock hard one again."

"Have fun with it," he said.

He went into the bedroom and slammed the door. She didn't bother to come in.

Usually, after an argument, she would come in and ask for forgiveness. She didn't go near the door this time, as she had a point to prove.

Later, when he cooled off, he came out.

"Well," he said, "maybe you'll enjoy this. I hope you like stepping out on me."

"Don't consider it that," she said, "just consider it a little sexual pastime.

After all, dear, we've been doing it to each other for the last five years."

"Yes," he said.

"I've been doing it with just you," she reminded him, "and you've been bringing girls into your playpen."

The big event finally took place, when Harry and Alice Parker were greeted at the door by Trudy Roberts.