Across That Line
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Swinging, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Sex Toys,
Desc: Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - His wife craved sex with other men and women, even if it wrecked the marriage. He tried everything he knew of but finally there was only one thing to do.
It was an easy road to drive and Bradley Rogers, Brad to his family and friends, was relaxed and comfortable behind the wheel. The air-conditioner was flooding the vehicle's interior with cold air to keep the hot Texas afternoon at bay, the wheels were rumbling a steady rhythm on the macadam... and he was alone with his bride of only twelve months. He and Ashley were driving up to Dallas for a long awaited, and much anticipated, weekend alone.
His fingers barely touching the steering wheel, Brad guided the car through a long, sweeping curve and onto another section of impossibly straight highway. He couldn't even see where the next bend in the road might be. The horizon was hidden by a shimmering veil of rising heat waves coming off the hot pavement.
Leaving his left hand on the wheel, Brad extended his right to find and hold his wife's hands in his. They'd be hitting the big loop around the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex in another hour or so. From there, it would be a short ride into Dallas and their hotel. It was Thursday. They'd have four whole days together with no worries and no responsibilities beyond their love for each other.
"Baby?" his wife asked softly, almost plaintively. Ashley's fingers tightened on her husband's apprehensively. She forced herself to relax.
"What, hun?" Brad replied. When her hand twitched, he tensed and automatically checked ahead and behind with quick glances through the windshield and rearview mirrors for anything that might be a threat. There was nothing there.
"Sugar... the hotel called," Ashley said hesitatingly. "They... it was about our reservation."
Brad's easy going expression faded to a frown. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"Damn!" he exclaimed. "Sorry," he apologized as quickly as the expletive was out of his mouth. He'd been trying to watch his language ever since he'd gotten married. Sometimes he was less successful than others in avoiding four-letter words.
"They screwed up our reservations, didn't they," Brad spat out. "Shi... darn it all anyway."
"No, no," Ashley said quickly. "They've got our room for us okay... a king-size bed with a Jacuzzi... it's not that."
Brad shot her a quick questioning look. His wife avoided his eyes, preferring to stare at the road ahead instead.
"Then, what, sugar?" he asked.
"They called me..." Ashley said, wetting her lips, "... it's just that... they said there'd been a mistake. They called it an oversight. I don't think it was anybody's fault," she said, beginning to babble in her nervousness."
"Ash..." Brad said. There were some conversations he had with his wife where she never did get to the subject she wanted to bring up.
"Okay," Ashley replied. She took a deep breath. "They called to tell us almost the whole hotel had been reserved for a swinger's convention from tonight all the way until Monday."
Brad stared at her in shock. He didn't understand at first. Ashley refused to look at him.
"They said they could get another hotel for us if we wanted," Ashley continued. "They apologized and said they'd take care of getting another room anywhere else we wanted to go," she said. She paused before continuing. "I... honey, please don't be mad... I told them it was all right. We'd stay there."
Brad was choking very slowly but very surely on the huge lump in his throat.
"Baby... we won't have to do anything with anyone in the lifestyle, okay? It's not like any of those people would think of forcing us to do anything, you know. Everything will be all right. We just can watch everyone being sexy and stuff. It'll just be a turn on for us, okay, sugar?"
"I don't... understand," Brad said thickly. His mind was spinning. He felt like he was in the grip of a deadly whirlpool. His life was spiraling downward into the depths.
"I... what was it I did?" He searched for the words to express his confusion. "I... Ashley... you have to tell me... please... I can make it better. What did I do wrong?"
There was no answer to his despairing questions. Ashley Rogers never heard her husband.
"Brad... Brad... Brad... BRADLEY!" she screamed.
Brad snapped his eyes back to the road. With only his left hand on the steering wheel, the Chrysler had drifted slowly into the oncoming lane. The big eighteen-wheeler was coming at them fast; their combined speed was nearly 140 miles per hour. Brad could hear the air horn now. It's strident shrieking was almost overwhelming. The truck driver hauled his big rig as far to the right as he could get. Blue smoke from suddenly applied brakes began to billow out into the pristine afternoon.
Brad twisted the steering wheel hard to the right as quickly as his arms could move. When he stomped on the brakes in a panic, the cruise control automatically disconnected and the engine revs dropped off immediately.
The car swerved violently. Brad had turned too abruptly and too sharply, but it was probably the couple's only chance. The offside tires lifted a full inch off the road surface... then settled back. Brad eased the turn with a snap of his wrist... straightened out for a split second... and pulled the wheel firmly back to the left to bring the car back into his lane from the edge of the right shoulder. A short series of more gentle corrections brought the vehicle back on course down the blacktop. The sound of the truck's loud horn drifted back to them. Brad heard the derisive note still hanging in the air long after the truck disappeared in the rearview mirror.
A mile further on, Brad pulled into the empty roadside park. Neither he nor his wife had said a word to each other since the near disaster. He turned off the engine and listened to the popping noises as the motor cooled for a long moment.
"I'm sorry," he finally told her. His voice was low and rasping. The near accident, along with the news she'd given him before, still held a steely grip over his emotions.
"I... it's all right," she said at last, her voice faint and shaky.
"I should have told you earlier... before we started out," Ashley said slowly. "I should have, I know. I'm sorry too, Brad, honey." The couple sat quietly for a time, steadying their nerves and mulling over the best thing to do next, each in their separate world.
"Darling, I know I should have said something before we came, but there just didn't seem to be a good time, you know? I wanted to, but before I knew it, we were in the car and..."
"Okay..." Brad said neutrally. "But why do we need to go to a hotel where all those... swingers... are going to be? I can't understand..."
"Brad, honey... it's not like you think. Couples in the lifestyle aren't mean and vicious. They won't think anything about it if we don't... participate... in the convention or the parties or stuff. It'll be all right, don't you think, baby? We'll just watch them... like it was a show or something, okay? I promised you, honey, and I'm not going to break my promise... you know that, right?"
Somewhere in the explanation, Ashley had turned to her husband to look earnestly at him. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears. He just had to understand.
"Ash..." Brad said. He stopped to clear an aching throat. "Ash... we talked about this before we got married. You said you didn't want to get back into that... that lifestyle thing or whatever you call it... never again... you said I was all you wanted for the rest of your life... what happened, honey? I... is it something I..."
"No, honey," Ash replied, cutting him off. "You didn't do anything... and neither did I, sweetie. All I thought was that we've been needing this time to ourselves for so long and... when they called me... I figured all those... people would be like a sexy... floorshow or something, baby... that's all."
Brad listened quietly. He believed his wife was sincere. She seemed so. She'd almost broken into tears twice as she explained. In the end, her obvious distress moved him to accept her explanations, hard as they were to choke down.
He started the car again and carefully pulled back onto the road. He kept both his hands on the steering wheel for the rest of the trip and he drove ten miles an hour below the speed limit all the way.
They'd met a little more than two years ago at a party given by mutual friends. Brad's first thought was the short young woman with the dazzling smile and lush figure was the most entrancing young woman he'd ever met. They were both born of families with a strong flavor of the Irish in their ancestry. In Ashley, it was expressed in her dark red hair, green eyes, and high cheekbones. Brad's first impression was that she favored the Celtic singer Enya to a remarkable degree. He was drawn to her across the room at their first meeting, like a moth is drawn to the flame.
Brad's coal black hair had glints of red in it too, a gift from his Scot and Irish grandfathers his brother had once tracked back more than three hundred years. He was a little more than average in height, near six feet or so, and heavyset. A heavy upper body was a legacy bequeathed to him by too many generations of coal miners who labored in cold and dangerous coalmines in the Pennsylvania hills. Brad had his father's heavy forearms and native strength, though the thought of going underground made him physically ill.
Brad's blue eyes, gentle strength, and genial disposition had attracted any number of women over the years and Ashley couldn't ignore his charm any more than they could. The pair met by accident but everyone said they were the perfect couple before they'd gone on their second date. It was inevitable, their friends told each other. They were perfect for each other, they said.
The thing was, Brad was still a bachelor when he celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday the month after he and Ashley met. Ashley though... two years younger than Brad... had been married and divorced twice. In fact, she had a child from each marriage to prove it. The half-sisters were cute little copies of their mother, except they still had the blond hair of the very young.
Born only fourteen months apart, the half-sisters thought the sun rose and set with Brad. The oldest had no memory of her father and only a vague recollection of her sister's. The younger sister thought her father was no more than a good friend of mommy's. Inside a month, both girls had bonded so deeply with Brad, it was clear they would suffer if Ashley and Brad didn't make a go of this. The girls, Cathy and Cindy, were ecstatic the day Brad moved in for good.
The big problem was Ashley's second marriage. She and her second ex-husband had married primarily because Ashley got pregnant. They really didn't have much in common and were quickly bored with each other. They thought they could solve their problem by partying more and being married less.
A few months after delivering Cindy, Ashley and her ex went to their first swingers club and they never looked back. The arrangement, and the marriage, lasted until the day Ashley caught her husband screwing one of their partners from the club in Ashley's bed.
Still, they managed to get an amicable divorce. Ashley had so emotionally detached from him, she found it difficult to be angry with him. The divorce was only a formality that signaled the end of the marriage.
Ashley seldom mentioned either of her ex-husbands but they stood a silent vigil wherever Brad went anyway. Her husbands had never actually been in the house Brad and Ashley called home, but Brad noted their presence every time Ashley and he argued. He knew they chuckled at his consternation every time she grew irritated with... anything. Brad knew he was compared with them when Ashley came to bed, smiling at him tenderly.
More than that, he could sense an impending judgment on how well he made love to his new wife. The jury, composed of all the faceless men she'd met and had sex with in those swinger clubs, would render a verdict sooner or later on his worth as a male animal... and he feared the indictment would be upheld. No matter what he did, he was certain he could never measure up in Ashley's eyes.
But... she'd promised. Brad repeated the catechism to himself over and over as he drove, clutching at the words as a drowning man does a life preserver. She'd promised him all that was behind her. She didn't want other men... she wanted only him. She would never cheat on him, she said. She knew too well the agony it would cause. She wanted only him, now and forever. She promised.