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Monday afternoon Tessa ran into Margie when picking up her son Win.
Tessa: "Forgive me asking, but what the hell happened with you and Vince the other night?"
Margie: "I'm still asking myself the same question, Tessa. I keep coming back to that damn swing."
Tessa: "What about the swing?"
Margie: "You know me and my Sybian ... the swing offered so many different variations."
Tessa: "I can agree with you on that," she said, recalling the double penetration she'd experienced. "I remember thinking that you and Vince would have bought one by next week."
Both women laughed at that and Margie nodded, "It has come up already. Vince is researching them. It seems there are lots to choose from."
Then Margie grew serious. "Look the kids will be here in a minute or so, but Tess, my emotions are on a roller coaster right now. I mean like last night, one minute I loved Vince and the next I wanted to kill him. I realize now that my fury was out of proportion to what had just happened, but at that moment I had to get out of there or I'd have done something we'd all regret.
"Once we were in the car and moving, I felt more in control and immediately calmed down. Vince on the other hand got extremely pissed. My hissy fit had denied him a chance to screw several women while I on the other hand had gotten very well laid, thank you very much."
"Well," Tessa said, "I understand if a relationship is good it's worth fighting for ... I mean, I thought men were more jealous than women, but I may be wrong."
"How are they more jealous?"
"Um, they have to know who their children are for one."
"Yeah, and wives tend to be considered personal property for another," Margie added.
"True," Tessa agreed. "In a woman's eyes, men have alternatives and mobility. I think women are inclined to wait for sex. Without a man, a woman is passive and paralyzed, unless she chooses another woman, but that takes us in another direction."
"Does it?"
"Yes, let's stay focused, Margie. Men are the less jealous because a woman is passive and paralyzed. However, they either keep a woman on a pedestal or in the gutter in order to diminish their power over men."
"You seem to know a great deal about the subject," Margie said caustically.
"Hey, I graduated college. I learned a few things," Tessa laughed. "Throughout history, the sexual infidelity of women has been punished far more harshly than that of men. A man is cuckolded; a woman is unfortunate. The wife's infidelity strikes at the husband's honor and humiliates him. His infidelities, however much it hurts the wife, need not humiliate or dishonor her; it reflects on him rather than her, whereas hers reflects on him.
"So a man has more to lose from his mate's infidelity than the woman does. And so, law and custom protect him more; i.e., the famous, double standard.
"Did you know that recent studies reveal that 54% of married women have committed adultery?"
"What, I can't believe the number is that high?"
Tessa laughed. "Believe it. Ever since the pill things have changed dramatically. I mean, besides the obvious, there's an article I read recently that said a conflict is brewing over the assumptions we make with regard to women's fidelity that will breed more jealousy than ever before. The um, presumption being that the act of adultery leaves women confused and guilty."
"What?" Margie blurted. "It's not jealousy ... its envy."
"You make a valid point, Marge, we tend to think of jealousy in sexual terms ... but others have compared envy and jealousy as: Envy being a two-party transaction; while jealousy entails three. For example: we envy a good another person has. While we are jealous of a rival who threatens to take away something we love."
"I don't know ... I think you lost me there," Margie said, looking around to see if the kids were headed their way. They weren't, and she turned back to Tessa.
"So Marge, do you feel its okay to come onto a guy but get pissed when Vince looks at another woman?"
Margie's eyes teared up. "Oh for Christ's sake, here I go again. I tell you, Tessa, I've been feeling so insecure lately," Margie admitted. "I wanted to become the kind of woman he wanted, you know ... so we swapped with you and Danny. That seemed okay, because you and me and how we ... well, you know. I figured Vince was sure of himself, but he isn't. But by the time I discovered it, I was making myself something I wasn't. I was humiliated when he started in with those other women. My jealousy thermometer went ballistic."
Tabby and win came running out the school doors leading the pack, and ran straight to their mother's arms, thereby ending the conversation.
"So what the fuck happened with you guys?" Danny asked the moment the opportunity presented itself.
"Beats the shit outta me," Vince responded. "I was sitting on the couch getting ready to bang Cynthia. You may have seen us, I don't know. I mean, you were banging Tessa ... you and the other guy ... she was riding the swing and all."
"I recall Margie was right there with you and Cynthia, but that's all. I had other things on my mind."
"Me too, that's why Margie caught me off-guard like she did. I mean, we were out of there half dressed. Hardly had a chance to tell anyone we were leaving."
"How is she now?" Danny asked hoping that the relationship between the two couples remained intact.
"Seems better, I mean, she's talking to me; but not about the party. I take it a day at a time, you know?"
"Yeah ... well if I can help, or if maybe a call from Tessa might make things smoother, let either of us know. We love you guys and don't want to damage our relationship."
"Thanks, Danny. I'll be sure to pass it on to Margie."
Two days later, Margie was at the tennis club, working on her serve when she was approached by Carol Lambert. Carol asked if she wanted to play a set, just for practice, nothing serious, and Margie agreed.
After the match, Carol suggested they go out to dinner that night. "Milford has a member ship at the Trinity Manor. We just joined; tonight will be our first time dining there. We'd love it if you and Vince could join us; our treat, of course."
"I ... I don't know," Margie said, thinking of how she had felt repelled by Carol's husband and his large hands and shaven head on meeting him at the party.
But Carol was determined to win her and Vince over and kept at Margie until she relented.
But I have to ask Vince if his calendar is clear. We'll need a sitter, and ... well, you understand how these things work."
Carol suggested she call Vince then and there, and backed into a corner, Margie did. Vince was delighted that Margie was back socializing again, but confused as to whom she was asking him to go out with. "The Lambert's?" was all he said.
"Yes," Margie said, not wanting to say more than necessary. "Can you arrange with Mom to sit for Tabby? It might work better if you ask if Tabby can stay the night. That way if we get home late we won't be disturbing Mom or Tabby."
"Yeah, I can do that ... But why... ?"
Margie hung up before he could fully ask his question about the Lambert's that she knew was coming.
Carol made a quick call to her husband, nodded twice and hung up. "Dinner's booked for 7:30. Can you meet us at the Manor?"
"Of course, what are you wearing?"
"Most likely I'll wear a black cocktail dress. Most women wear black to the Manor. Men tend toward dark suits, or if they want to overdress, tuxedos."
The women left the tennis club shortly thereafter, and driving home Margie's doubts returned. What the hell am I doing? I left the party in a huff, obviously jealous of how they were going after Vince, and now here I am about to venture into the fucking lion's den with that uncouth bastard, Milford Lambert. Carol's nice ... and Vince will love her and her tits, but that means I'm stuck with Lambert and his giant-sized hands.
Suddenly Margie was laughing and had to fight for control, fearing she'd do something stupid and cause an accident. Did I say his giant-sized hands; as in big hands, big dick? Oh, my God, I'm fucking hopeless. And she was laughing again, wondering what his cock looked like. And that's all she could think off the rest of the way home ... a hard ... long ... thick ... dark cock. Her pussy was throbbing as she pulled into the garage and she hiked up her skirt and masturbated after turning the ignition off and lowering the garage door.
Margie found that Vince had driven their daughter over to her mother's when she entered the house. She was coming out of the shower when Vince returned.
"Mind my asking, what the fuck's going on? You hung up on me when I asked about the Lambert's. I mean, the Lambert's?"
"Take it easy, Vince," she said, "Carol's a decent enough person."
"But it's HIS club we're going to. And it's HIS money paying for it. And it's MY wife he wants to fuck!"
"Vince! Don't even suggest it! We don't know that ... it's just an invitation to dinner."
But Margie certainly knew there was more to it than dinner. And when Vince calmed down a moment later, Margie grew confused again, recalling Tessa's conversation about envy and jealousy.
While Vince showered and shaved, Margie selected a black matching bra-and-panty set, applied a light dusting of make-up and a layer of red nail varnish. Once the nail varnish had dried, she rolled very sheer black thigh-highs up her legs.
Margie admired herself in the mirror and felt a slight thrill at the contrast of the exposed skin of her thighs between the thigh-highs and her black thong. She smiled into the mirror and felt she looked very sexy. Applying a last touch of lipstick, it occurred to her that Carol would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely too. Vince will probably be drooling over her tits in no time at all, she told herself, and smiled.
It was a completely different woman looking back at her from the other evening. Margie didn't give it a second thought.
As the Morgan's pulled alongside the Valet station at the Manor, Margie spotted Carol and Milford getting out of their car. Margie gave Carol an approving look; she wore a simple black dress with spaghetti straps over her shoulders. The dress barely contained her jiggling breasts as she leaned forward to get out of the convertible.
Both Vince and Margie were so distracted by Carol's cleavage that they didn't notice Milford approaching the car and opening her door for Margie. She glanced his way on hearing the sound of the door opening, saw him smiling, or better yet, leering at her.
"Hi Margie, I'm so pleased you could be with us this evening," he said unctuously, while his eyes stripped the black dress from her body. Margie swung her legs out, hoping he would avert his eyes as he offered his hand to help her out of the car. Milford being Milford, did no such thing, and was rewarded with a wonderful crotch shot of her thong clad pussy.
Thank god I didn't go Commando, she thought as she flushed with embarrassment.
"Thank god for chivalry," she said with a forced smile and released his hand and brushed a hand over her dress to straighten it.
.Margie couldn't help but stare at his hands, God, they are huge she admitted, and then forced herself to examine the rest of him.
Lambert was dressed in a dark blue suit with just the narrowest lines running through it, almost indiscernible to the human eye. It must have set him back four or five thousand dollars, Margie thought as Lambert tendered his arm to her and walked her into the Manor.
Vince, of course made straight for Carol, complemented her on her dress, ogled her breasts just long enough to avoid being called on it, and escorted her into the restaurant behind his wife and Lambert.
Once inside the women exchanged hugs and air kisses, complemented each other on their outfits and were seated at a table set off by itself in a darkened corner.
Drinks were ordered and menus studied. A waiter took their orders and Lambert told a clean joke, surprising both Margie and Vince.
Vince expressed his appreciation of the Manor's elegance and Lambert was moved to give them both a short history of the place, which meant next to nothing to the Morgan's.
Margie wasn't sure when it happened, but as the second round of drinks arrived along with the starters, she suddenly realized that her husband's right hand was no longer on the table. A moment later she could have sworn Carol moaned, but decided that she was imagining things.
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