I’d worked with Tom for three years. He was hired the year after I was. We found a common interest in fishing early on and when the season rolled around we could usually be found on some stream, river or lake feeding our bait to intelligent trout. Often enough we would bring home enough of a catch to encourage us so we didn’t quit.

My wife Wendy and Tom’s wife, Vanessa met at the first company get together after Tom hired on and became ‘fishing widows’ some weekends. They went shopping and to lunches. They went to movies and even out to the reservation to gamble. Fortunately, our union contract made it possible for our wages to bear it all.

As time passed things happened in both our families, just like any family. Whatever the family event -- tragedy or celebration -- our two doors were always open to each other. We got to be closer friends with each milestone, be it good or bad.

Tom and I talked a lot when we fished. My dad used to tell me we’d scare the fish, but I later realized he just wanted me to shut up so he could fish in peace. Anyway, of course, eventually the subject of sex came up, and it came up more than once.

“Have you seen the new redhead down the hall from the lab?” Tom asked me one Saturday. I told him I hadn’t. He went on to describe her in glowing terms. Having met Vanessa, hearing Tom extol the charms of this young secretary made me sure to try to get a peek at her.

It was mostly that kind of stuff, or old tales from our pasts, suitably embellished if necessary. But one day Tom asked me out of the blue, “Do you like your dick sucked, Brian?”

We had just hiked out to where we’d left the truck. I was breaking my pole down and packing it into its tube. “What?” I said. “What kind of question is that?”

Tom laughed but I saw his cheeks turn color. “Simple question, man. Do you like blow jobs?”

“Well, sure. Jeez! Doesn’t everybody?” It seemed odd the way he had asked, though. He offered an explanation.

“Can I ask you one more? It’s a little more personal.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” I replied as we got in the truck. I turned the ignition and she roared to life.

“Does Wendy ... I mean do you ... guys ... Aw, shit! Do you guys have a lot of oral sex?” I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t keep from laughing. It wasn’t the question it was Tom’s embarrassment in asking. He just turned his head and stared out the side window.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” I gasped. “You looked so uneasy it reminded me of a little kid asking for a treat. But, yeah, I guess we have a fair amount of oral sex. I love the taste of pussy and Wendy seems to like swallowing it when she sucks me off. Now why do you want to know that?” My curiosity was trying to run off in several different directions.

I could almost feel the ice melting inside Tom. I had hurt his feelings, but I had apologized. It was funny, though. He glanced at me once then away again. Then he turned back to me and said, “Let’s go. I can talk while you drive.”

I got us bumping down the rutted forest road as Tom told me a story he probably shouldn’t have. Vanessa had been molested when she was thirteen by her step-brother, his friend, and her stepmother. The guys had made her suck them off while the stepmother watched and took pictures she sold later.

“As a result of that she hates sucking cock. She has done it for me, but only twice and she cried all the next day both times. She enjoys me going down on her but refuses to let me because she can’t do it for me.”

“Whew!” I blew air out while his words soaked in. “A lot of people would suggest counselling, but I won’t. I don’t have a very high opinion of the profession.” Most psychiatrists and psychologists don’t know what they’re talking about. They want to make things seem so complicated that you’ll keep coming back and paying them thousands of dollars to hear yourself talk mostly.

“It’s a tough spot, man,” I said. “If something is that deep and you guys have been married ... how long?”

“Seven years.”

“Wow. Yeah, you guys have been married that long and she’s only sucked you twice ... I don’t know. I mean, I understand, but I can’t think of a way around it.” I glanced at him as I clicked the turn signal for the turn onto the paved highway. He was just staring out the windshield with no real expression. It worried me because Tom had seemed more distant the last couple of weeks.

Even when we were fishing, his joking and kidding were not up to his usual banter. I had to say something else. “I really don’t have any good advice, man. I mean, I wish I did. I wish I could just tell you to do such and such and have everything smooth out for you and Vanessa but I can’t. I’m sorry.” I was still signaling but had yet to turn. There was nobody behind us. I reached and gripped Tom’s shoulder through his Carhartt jacket. “I’ll be happy to listen any time Tom. I want you to know that. Even if I don’t have answers, sometimes it helps to just discuss it.” He turned his sad eyes to me, patted my hand and nodded his head.

“I know, Brian. I appreciate it. I’m just not sure talking is the answer here though.” It was my turn to nod. I made the turn and drove us home. We didn’t talk much and what was said had nothing to do with sex. I dropped Tom and his gear off and went home to Wendy.

I walked in the door to the enticing aroma of lasagna. I grew up in an Italian neighborhood and it was my favorite dinner. Wendy always made it on my birthday but that was half a year away. I walked into the kitchen and held up my catch. I had managed to catch (and clean) two keepers and we both like trout.

Wendy took charge of them and told me I had time for a beer and a shower before dinner. “Don’t dawdle, though. I’m putting the garlic bread in and when it’s done I’m gonna eat!” She slapped my butt when I turned to go wash up.

I scrubbed the stink off in the shower while I replayed my conversation with Tom. I had to laugh. At first when he asked about blow jobs I was half afraid he was going to offer me one -- or ask for one. I shook my head with a smile as I rinsed my hair. I caught that small twinge deep down I always got when I wondered how I’d really react if a male friend ever asked me either question.

I was taught, as I grew up in a mid-twentieth century white, middle class American family, what ‘normal’ meant when it came to a lot of things. Chief among them was sex. Hetero-sex was normal sex. ‘Queers’ and ‘lesbians’ were perverts who were sick. Of course, I never knew if anybody I knew was ‘perverted’ that way since nobody ever showed it or tried to get me to do anything.

In my short time as a college student I did know guys who at least seemed gay (the more widely accepted term by then), but nothing ever happened to me.

I couldn’t brainstorm a solution for Tom though. I hung up my towel and returned to the kitchen to toss out my can and get a fresh beer. “There’s my clean naked man!” Wendy crowed as she saw I hadn’t dressed. We kissed.

“Yup. Gonna go to bed in a while. Besides, I might spill lasagna on my clean clothes. No point in getting fresh clothes dirty.” Wendy chimed in on the end. I guess it’s a common excuse for my nudity, not that I needed an excuse to be naked with my wife. The real reason was that I just would rather be naked. I wish it was legal to go everywhere naked, because I would, as long as it wasn’t cold or rainy. I’d even go naked in the rain if it was a warm rain.

She brushed off my attempted bear hug, shooing me toward the table. A few minutes later, she looked around the kitchen and, satisfied she’d done everything necessary, slumped tiredly into her chair with a sigh.

I poured her some wine and slid it toward her. She smiled and picked it up for a deep swallow. I had been dishing up my plate. I decided to present Tom and Vanessa’s problem to Wendy for her counsel. That kind of personal counselling is the only kind I believe in. But Wendy spoke up before I got the chance.

“I saw Van today. She looks terrible! She has dark patches under her eyes and she hardly has any energy or interest in anything.” I made ‘husband-is-eating-but-is-listening’ noises and she went on. “I finally asked her and I guess she and Tom are having some problems. Did he talk to you?” Fortunately, my mouth was full of lasagna with meat sauce so I had time to think.

I had been about to tell her, but I wanted to find out if she knew more than I did, first. I swallowed and took a drink of beer. “Well, yeah. He didn’t say they were arguing or anything,” I said. was true.

“I think the problem is in bed, Bri,” she said, lowering her voice, even though we were alone.

“What did she tell you?”

“Oh, it’s about sucking Tom off. She can’t force herself to do it so she’s stopped letting him do the same for her because it isn’t fair.”

“Well, it isn’t even, but fair, I don’t know. If it makes her feel good for him to go down on her and he likes doing it... ? Where’s the problem?”

“I told you the problem is she doesn’t feel it’s right.” I shook my head and ate another small bite. I got that down.

“Okay. Well, what did you tell her then?”

“Oh, I told her how much I like doing it -- doing you, and having you do me.” I knew Wendy had sexual relationships before we met, as I had. She told me a little bit about some of them but she didn’t really go into details because she said it embarrassed her. “She’s never been able to believe men actually like licking a pussy either,” Wendy continued.

“I told her she should see you going down on me and she’d believe it!” She looked at me and suddenly said, “Oops! Come on, honey, that wasn’t bad.” I had told her I didn’t like our privacy invaded or talked about. But she hadn’t really said anything Vanessa couldn’t have heard from Tom: that I like eating pussy. He knows that because I had told him long before. Even if I hadn’t, it wasn’t something I cared whether people knew about me. I agreed with my wife but cautioned her to be more careful.

I finished my plate and pushed back from the table. So far there had been nothing said about the special dinner. So, I asked her what had possessed her to go to the work and effort to make lasagna.

“Oh, you like it so much I decided you deserve it more than just on your birthday.”

“Oh, I see,” I said. “Then it’s not like the time you wanted to buy that red dress?” Wendy shook her head as if the idea was silly.

“And I guess it isn’t like the time you had signed us up for that class together? Or the time you bought those cruise tickets?”

I had her on the ropes. “Come on!” I urged her. “The Truth shall set you free!”

Wendy took a bigger breath than I thought she could hold. Then she let it out. Just before running out of air, she strung her words together with no break. “I told her she should watch me suck you off and she said she would like to.” She sucked in more air as the silence settled around us. I was looking toward her but I wasn’t seeing her. My mind’s eye was turned inward and watching the cool movies going on in there. All kinds of nasty stuff went on in them.

With no conscious direction on my part, lewd XXX rated clips were going off and piquing my interest. That covered the first few seconds after Wendy’s outburst. My expression hadn’t changed and I made sure it didn’t yet.

“Um ... What drove you to suggest something like that?”

“Oh, Bri, she was crying and so heartbroken I had to do something to help. If you don’t want to I’ll understand and so will she.”

“It isn’t a case of not wanting to. I don’t care if you tell Vanessa I’m a Sex God.” I took a deep breath and told Wendy that I’d already known about our friends’ problem, but that I didn’t feel Tom would want me telling her about it. It was a confidence. “I had, however chosen to breach that confidence and tell you anyway. You know, you’re a woman, she’s a woman, et cetera. Now, though, unless she’s planning on doing this behind Tom’s back, everything will come out anyway.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t think that ... well that puts things in a different light.”

“I agree but tell me why you think that.”

“Well, l ... when I ... invited her to watch, I pictured just the three of us. What if she tells him and he wants to watch too?” I gave her a smile but I kept quiet.

“What if he does? Are you ready to let him see you naked and having him watch me give you an oral orgasm or two? You know we wouldn’t stop there, either.” Wendy’s eyes didn’t leave mine as she drained her wine and held the glass out toward me. I broke the gaze and refilled her.

“I don’t know. I ... I better go call Van,” she said and left to get to her phone in the bedroom.

“Don’t tell her what we’ve been talking about. Just tell her you had been thinking about it,” I called to her as she went down the hall.

I haven’t given you descriptions of us all yet. I could, but I’d rather let you decide how we look on your own. All I will say is that we’re all in our thirties and, if not fit, we all are generally active and not too chubby. Wendy has dark blonde hair she’s always threatening to bleach. I have brown hair. Tom has darker brown, almost black, and Vanessa has dark black hair. She takes care of it so that it always looks shiny and flows over her shoulders. Wendy’s blonde curls frame her face but her neck is bare. None of us has kids.

I finished the second beer and decided I deserved a stronger drink. I got down the tequila and two small glasses. We don’t own shot glasses so I used the smallest juice glasses we have. I only poured mine and tossed it back. My eyes watered as I got out a lime and a knife. The liquor still burned, right up to when I got one of those green slices between my teeth to cut the booze with its citrusy bite.

When Wendy came back she brought our pipe and the bag of weed. She poured her own tequila and gave me another large measure. She loaded the pipe as I expressed some of my concerns about this little adventure she wanted us to have. We smoked and talked. When we’d done three of the little pipes we sipped our tequila and sucked limes.

Wendy said Vanessa told her she hadn’t said anything to Tom yet but she would before they went to bed. “I told her it would be deceitful unless she did.”

“Are you thinking about what might happen after we put on our show?” I asked her.

“Mm-hmm ... some,” she said with a slow smile. I could tell she was feeling the drinks and the pot.

“Like what?” I prodded gently because she could just clam up.

“Oh ... if it’s just Van with us she might want you to eat her too,” she said, not looking at me. “I’d watch. That would be hot, to see you with different tasting juice all over your face.”

“Different tasting! Yeah, I see it could be. I’d like to have you clean up my face, though.” Wendy gave me a lewd grin.

“But if Tom comes ... COMES!” She cracked up over her own lame joke. “If he comes along and, and you’re licking her, maybe I could give him a few tips ... a few li’l tippers ... about what he might be doing wrong.”

“According to him he never gets the chance any more to do it, right or wrong,” I told her.

“Oh, well then I could suck ... suck...” she looked at me and turned bright pink. I finished for her.

“You could suck Tom’s cock,” I said with a smile. “He misses blow jobs.”

“That’s what Van said! But she says he’s huge!” She had caught herself before but she was feeling the effects of the pot laced tequila.

I had the feeling Wendy had just about let on about some of her own fantasies then, and it sounded like she was thinking about Tom. With the news he was hung like a horse or something I was sure she at least wanted to see it and probably more.

Well folks, this was another one of those little twinges like I get thinking about gay sex. It is -- or they are -- about extramarital sex and swinging. More ‘what if’s’: What if Wendy takes a lover? What if she tells me she WANTS to take a lover? What if we really do decide to include others in our sex and later regret it? What if we have to have swapping to get satisfaction after we try it?

“What if Tom comes along to watch and he wants to try eating you?”

“I don’t know how I’d feel.”

“I wasn’t asking how it would make you feel. I wanted to know what you’d do?”

Wendy looked at me. I knew I had to be careful here. We had talked about fucking other people but she was always against it. But this wasn’t like that, exactly. What if we ended up facing whether to actually swap with our friends?

With no other consideration, Vanessa is a woman I would like to take into my bed. I had thought about that before, strictly as a fantasy. It’s no different than most men do. Women do it too. It’s all fantasy until it isn’t. I’d read reports of couples who happily live that way all the time. I’d also read where sharing everything that way can kill relationships that were otherwise seemingly great.

“Tom would dearly love to have you suck him,” I said simply That struck a nerve! She jumped and began to dissemble but I stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

“Wen’ this is me, okay? I know you have fantasies just like I do. I’ve looked at Vanessa and wondered how she’d be in bed. I think you’ve had the same thoughts about other men, and Tom, too.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I’ve wondered. But you know I’d never cheat, don’t you?”

“Yes. And I’d never cheat on you. But I know you think about other men. It’s healthy. How do you feel now that you know his dick is so big?” Her eyes lit up and she turned pink again, but she was grinning. She raised both hands, one on top of the other, and formed a circle with them, like a cylinder ... or a cock shaft.

“That big! That’s what Van said, it’s that big! Two hands, plus! Forget fucking him, I just want to see it!” I had to laugh. Knowing I wasn’t gay, even I was curious about how big my friend’s dick was. I prefer smaller breasts on women but a pair of huge ‘bazongas’ still draws my eye, if only for the novelty.

“So how did you think this would happen, and when?” That was a Saturday. Tom and I both worked regular daytime hours then, weekdays only.

“We thought a weekend, obviously, but I told her I had to talk to you first.”

“Well...” I wanted to let her know I’d be willing but I didn’t want to let her know how eager I was, thinking about it. Then I asked her, as if it had just then occurred to me, “What if Vanessa wants me to eat her but still wants more afterward? What if she wants me to fuck her?”

“You just admitted you’ve always wanted her,” she said simply.

“Yeah, okay, I have appreciated the way her body looks, but that was it. I’m married to you.”

“No, honey, you want her. I’ve seen you look at her. It’s okay! I don’t mind! I see guys I’d fuck if I didn’t have you and if they asked.”

Most of that was a recap of earlier discussions but this was the first time we’d ever been specific about who the others might be. “Okay, if not for you and Tom, I’d like to fuck her. If she was interested. But Tom didn’t say there was a problem with intercourse, just oral things.”

“Neither did Van,” she admitted. Then she grinned again and poured us two more drinks. “But if I was riding her husband she’d probably jump your bones in a flash. She told me you’re handsome enough to make a girl wet her panties.” I took a big drink when she said that. My dick (remember I was still naked?) perked up and it had already become hard as we talked about sex with Tom and Vanessa. Hearing the compliment made me get harder.

“She didn’t say that!” I protested.

“I swear, those were her exact ... well that was her exact meaning. She did mention wet panties but...”

“‘But’ what?”

“But she didn’t say ‘a girl’s panties’. She said you make HER panties wet.”

Uh-oh. Suddenly this fun little adventure could be taking on a dark edge. I hoped Vanessa wasn’t trying to kick over the traces and wanting to start something with me. I finished my tequila and told Wendy I was finished drinking.

We loaded the pipe again. We smoked it and went to bed leaving it all in the air. I had confused dreams that night. I was there and so was Wendy. Of course, after our discussion, Tom and Vanessa made appearances. Sometimes we were all dressed in regular clothes, sometimes dressed up, sometimes wearing clothes I’ve seen used as costumes in old pirate movies. Sometimes one or more of us was naked. When Tom popped up, his erection was so huge it threatened to topple him off his feet. It was all mixed up and I woke up still confused. But my dick was hard.

When I did wake up, Wendy wasn’t in bed. I rose and found her sitting nude on the deck, watching the morning and looking at the lake. I joined her and we drank coffee a while. She’d had mixed up dreams too. Finally, I said, “Honey, this isn’t our problem and I don’t want it to become one or give us one of our own. The wise thing would be to hope our friends work it all out and go about our life.

“But that wouldn’t be something a good friend would do, is it?” I asked rhetorically. She shook her head. While I was talking I had watched a cascade of expressions pass across Wendy’s face. She went from zero to hopeful and then it began to droop and worked its way to sad, sad, sad -- until my last sentence. Then she perked up some.

I remembered Tom trying to get his words out that afternoon, but knew I had to make the suggestion anyway. “I think the four of us need to sit down and talk about this and proceed from there. I want to hear everybody state their feelings in their own words.”

“That might be hard,” she said.

“I don’t want it go any farther if we don’t. It would leave too much unsaid; somebody – namely Tom – in the dark. Call Vanessa again.” Wendy did. That time when she returned she said Tom felt the same way I did and we were invited over for drinks and dinner.

A week later, we arrived at their house and I could sense the tension. Van, when she hugged me, felt tense in my arms. Well, I had a relaxing remedy. I had rolled three joints. We’d all smoked together before.

Tom brought the drinks in and we lit up. We smoked two and we all decided that was enough, for the moment. Tom tried for a laugh. “You’re probably wondering why I called you all here,” he said in his best bad British accent. It helped lighten the mood. The laughter was still obvious in the room.

Vanessa looked around the table and took a drink of her cocktail. With another look around, she said simply, “I ... was molested when I was thirteen.” Wendy’s gasp and her open mouth said she hadn’t known. She gave us all the details, then. Her stepmother had caught her brother forcing her in rape. She blamed Vanessa for it and decided the punishment would be to let him finish fucking her. Afterward, she called the stepfather in and told him what had been going on. Then she made Vanessa clean his cock with her tongue.

The next order was for her to suck her stepfather off. “I was out of my mind with fear and disgust, but I had to do it. The others were holding me down.” After she sucked him, she said, he wanted to fuck her too, but she wouldn’t let the stepfather do it. “It made him so angry that he began slapping me and calling me a slut and a bunch of other things. When I went to school with a black eye, the teacher sent me to the school nurse.”

During the short exam, the nurse saw her normally mostly hidden bruises, and Vanessa broke down. She told the nurse and the school called CPS the same day. The cops jailed the parents, as well as the brother since he was seventeen, and Van went to the foster home system.

“I didn’t have any bad experiences in foster homes,” she said. She just was not loved. Wendy had Vanessa’s hand in hers for support as Vanessa finished in tears.

“I wish assholes like that would just disappear,” I said. “Do you want to take a break, Van?”

“Yeah, just let me go wash my face.” She left the room.

“Tom, I...” Wendy started to say something, but Tom stopped her.

“Wait for Van, Wendy, please? I think anything that will be said should be heard by all of us.” She nodded and, at my suggestion, Tom refilled the glasses and brought the bottle of vodka along. Vanessa came back and gave us a wan smile.

The four of us smoked and waited, hoping the emotions would loosen up. When the roach was finished, Wendy cleared her throat. “Okay, guys. We all know the problem. Now that Van has filled in the blanks, we know the cause of the problem.” She leaned to the side and kissed Vanessa on the cheek. “You think watching me suck Brian’s cock will make you see it can be a very enjoyable thing for both of you. The same may be said if Brian goes down on me. Vanessa nodded.

“Well...” Wendy began, but I interrupted her.

“Wait, honey. Going down on me is not the same as going down on Tom.” I turned to him. “I hear you’re hung like a horse, buddy.” He blushed and both women laughed nervously. “Cool!” I added.

Then I said to my wife, “It might be more helpful if you showed her with Tom, honey. That is the cock she would be sucking, not mine.” Wendy kind of stammered and Vanessa spluttered something unintelligible.

“What was that, Van?” I asked. She was bright red then.

“I just said, she’d never get that thing in her mouth. He’s huge! I told you,” She said to Wendy. I had noticed a sizable bulge in Tom’s pants already.

Wendy just smiled and looked at me as she asked Vanessa if she would really let her try to suck her husband’s cock. I smiled at her. I looked at Vanessa. She was looking at Tom, but her eyes were unfocused. I looked at Tom. I could tell he was struggling to control his joyful expression.

Finally, Vanessa rejoined us and said in a small but firm voice, “Yes.”

“Great!” Wendy said. “When do we start?”

“I say we might as well do it now,” I offered. Tom looked at his wife nervously. She looked at Wendy a long time, then at me before looking back at Tom. She nodded to him.

We moved to their bedroom. Wendy took charge, telling Tom to get undressed as she did the same. When she looked at me, she stopped as she was taking off her bra. “Hey, are we gonna be the only ones naked here? If you guys are gonna watch, you have to be naked too. Otherwise you have to leave.” I looked at Vanessa and she looked at me. She smiled a little bit and shrugged. I smiled back and started stripping.

As I mentioned, I’ve always loved being naked. My mom let me get away with it at home after I was out of diapers, up until the day when I was ten and she brought two friends home for coffee. I was on the floor watching cartoons, stark naked, my little dick stiff. One of her friends laughed, but the other one got huffy and stormed out. I was doomed to wear clothes from then on, unless I was in my room or in the shower. So now, any chance I get I go bare.

My dick had pulled some blood to itself and was hard. Wendy was naked and on the bed before the rest of us had finished. They turned their backs as they pulled down their underwear. When they turned around. It was my turn to control my face. Vanessa giggled as my dick rose up. Tom wasn’t shaved. His dick was about 45 degrees from straight down. I didn’t know if he was completely hard or if he had more.

But what had the most effect on me was Vanessa. She was slender waisted, but her hips were pleasantly broad and her breasts were like large grapefruits high on her chest. She was Sex embodied. Wendy had watched me watching Van when she tore her eyes away from Tom’s giant dick. When I looked at her she giggled and gave me a ‘shame on you’ motion with her fingers.

Vanessa figured out what was happening and she laughed, seating her round ass next to Wendy. Wendy crooked a finger at Tom and he sheepishly climbed on the bed. She had him lie face up and she moved around to kneel between his thighs. Vanessa bent to kiss her husband a deep kiss. Wendy took Tom in hand. He had more now than before. He stiffened like a fence post and it grew another inch. Wendy wrapped her other hand around it. The head still stuck out the top.

I crawled onto the bed opposite Vanessa. It wasn’t what I wanted to do, but you understand. Whatever happened from here on, we were here to help our friends – granted, it was kind of an irregular way to do it, but sexual surrogates are common these days. So far, that was all that was happening here. I couldn’t help wanting to eat and fuck Vanessa’s bare, shaved pussy, but that was still out of this picture. We were just supposed to watch. Getting naked was just the price of admission to the show.

Wendy managed to sound like a teacher, in spite of what she was feeling. I know my wife and I knew she was probably dripping onto the sheets beneath her. Vanessa was flushed down to the round tops of her tits. Her nipples stood out stiffly. She looked up at me, then down at my erect dick, leaking its fluid. She looked back at me and blushed harder. I just smiled at her and winked. The aroma of sex began to fill the air.

Wendy explained how she keeps her teeth covered. “Van, with a dick this big, well, it’s plain no normal woman could get much of this monster in her mouth. But he’ll still love the idea of you sucking it at all, let alone whatever pleasure you can give the head. That is the most sensitive part anyway, isn’t it guys?”