After the mixed disaster and surprising New Year party, Clair continued her weekly visits, ostensibly for Mah-Jong with my wife, on Thursdays. They were much more open about their pleasures. After hours of Mah-Jong and coffee with my wife, Maria, I always found them naked in bed, often in “69” — sometimes frenzied, sometimes gentle and loving. They usually hopped up and kissed me intensely as the other stripped me. Either one then dropped to her knees and sucked me until I grew to my full stiffness. I fingered the one kissing me to our first orgasm, then switched wives.

When we finally landed on the bed, I would “69” with one of them as the other licked then fingered my ass. Rubbing my prostate forced me to quickly fill the other’s belly with fresh hot cum. They then either swapped and I filled the other belly with cum, or they “69d” and I fucked both, cumming in just one hot wet pussy.

Their tight asses were delights, though I needed time to recuperate before fucking such tempting asses. Clair’s was plump and cushy, Maria’s less so, yet still a joy. When we recovered from being sweaty and exhausted, we walked to our front door and passionately kissed Clair au revoir and “Happy New Year” (HNY) before letting her get dressed and go home to her husband. Sometimes we both licked her pussy while the door was still open.

My head still reels at my new wife. When she lost her job. She refused to work again. While sexually extremely active with me before marriage, she soon pivoted. Though she always orgasmed with me and seemed satisfied, things started to change when she refused many acts we enjoyed: any anal contact — no fingering, licking, or rubbing me; no ass fucking her; no more blowing me; deep wet kisses became light pecks.

I became so frustrated with her constant rejections I was ready to pursue divorce for “irreconcilable differences” rather than live out a sexless loveless life. Nothing helped her depression or listless life. Her lifeless hand jobs rarely got me hard and the only sex she allowed was dead missionary — she was the dead one. Only loyalty persisted as love withered.

Her chance meeting with a pretty neighbor, Clair, helped. I often came home to their Mah-Jong and coffee late into the night. Though their loud laughs and thunder-strike tile slams kept me awake, I saw some life in Maria’s eyes. Tolerating the noise, I eventually joined their game. Clair teased me often and Maria smirked. I got hard as Clair titillated me. I wanted my cock in her pretty face, her imagined fair pussy, and her plump ass. She saw my slacks tent and Maria smirked. Their New Year party changed all that.

Now, besides our Thursday threesomes, we had Sunday foursomes. At first resentful that Maria gave herself completely to Carl and did with him all the things she denied me, Clair doing all those things with me eased the pain. I quickly realized we had slid into a swapping relation with these neighbors and I was happy about that. It brought my wife back to life and saved our marriage, though I was still angry that it started with Maria cheating instead of resolving it with me. Sometimes it does take a village.

Foregoing all pretexts, Sundays, Maria and I strip naked in the hall outside our friends’ apartment before we ring their bell. We have been caught, yet ignored or got some “thumbs ups” from their neighbors. The first time was a surprise to our swap mates, then they began stripping before opening the door. After a few weeks of open door kisses and groping, Carl and I decided on the “more civil” hedonistic greeting.

A bit more personal than a handshake, each person cupped the other couple’s genitals. If gripping a penis, you squeeze and shake it exactly three times, four is a hand job. Cupping a female vulva, you squeeze it three times. Sliding one finger along or into her pussy is expected. Two fingers is considered a sex act and requires some sort of permission. Sniffing or licking your finger is considered a compliment.

Maria always jumped naked, with grinning enthusiasm, on Carl’s naked body; Clair greeted me more sedately, yet with passionate kisses. After sharing a drink or three, Carl always asked how much I enjoyed his wife during the week and often thanked me for the more intense sex he got after Clair’s visits. “The women seem to love their own encounters. Would you ladies care to show us your favorite pass times?” He grabbed a remote and clicked it three times. Nothing happened, as far as I knew.

Our wives stood and hugged, nipple to nipple, as they kissed. Hands explored the other’s familiar body. Carl and I sat and watched them fondle and pinch hard nipples before working their way to the other’s clit. Carl kept staring at my cock. Our cocks grew stiffer as their fingers cupped their mons then stroked their shaved and swelling lips. By the time they teased and prodded the other’s clit to stand stiff, our cocks were rigid. As their breaths sped up, they explored their wetness and slowly fingered themselves; Carl gripped my rod.

As he lifted it to my pubes, he said, “Watching your foreskin pull back on its own is always interesting since I don’t have one. It often looks like it’s going to rip your frenulum off. Doesn’t that hurt?” he asked as he fingered it.

“Rarely,” I said. “Only when someone gets too harsh with jerking me. It does make me nervus. Right hon?” Her only response was a suppressed groan. As their tongues gently wrestled and their sleepy eyes locked on, Carl squeezed my cock hard. A large glob of Cowpur’s eased out of my bishop. He maintained pressure as he began to slowly jerk me. When I tried to move his hand away, he rolled to his knees between my legs, bent my cock down, and kissed it before licking and sucking it. I didn’t want him to do that — but then, I did.