Transcontinental: Temporary Husbands, Temporary Wives

By Robert Wolf

©Copyright 2025 Robert Wolf. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 1 - Emerging Problem

Personals: Transcontinental Couple Seeking Similar

Couple for Unusual Relationship

Professional dual-career married couple (~ten years) has become bi-coastal for the indefinite future - him in Palo Alto, and her in Cambridge for work and Dillon, MA for home. We are early-thirties, college educated (MBA, Ph.D.), bright, motivated, go-getters, impatient to succeed, handsome, pretty, athletic, trim, shapely, sculptured, and very lusty (both of us). He’s in high tech. She teaches/research at nearby college.

We seek a couple that has opposite geographic problem to ours: she’s in near Palo Alto, and he’s in the Boston area. We opened our marriage because of our expected significant time apart. We aren’t into pick-up bars, clubs, or even internet dating (except for this), so this ad is a hope to meet some others with a complementary problem.

We have only a hazy vision of what this two-couple bi-coastal relationship might become; if you’re the ones, help us build this vision and become our intimate friends. We are still in love, want to be in touch often, plan to travel back and forth as we can to keep that contact and spark alive. Phone and video calls just don’t cut it (particularly in our love life!). Send pix to speed things along. COUPLES ONLY - married preferred. Box 5661403.

* * * * *

I looked at the ad that Russ and I had put in several Boston papers and at six Internet sites that seemed to carry similar ‘contact’ personals. I wondered if we would get any replies other than kinky men who wanted to expose themselves in dick pics. I paid extra for the ads because of the number of words, but I thought them important because they laid out our situation and our hopes almost perfectly.

I thought further back to the situation that brought us to the moment of placing our ad, a remarkable synchronicity of events in Russ’ and my meteoric careers plus deep connections on many levels and a shared sense of priorities about our lives and marriage.

We are both smart as Einstein and graduated from college (not high school) at age eighteen. Earlier than that, when we still considered in high school, Russ told me he loved me and gave me a friendship ring that I still wear. We became an item through the rest of high school, college, and got married the weekend after graduation - twelve years ago.

Being ‘brainiacs’ - very smart, we’d both skipped multiple grades in school, accelerated through college with overloads despite usually being the youngest in our classes, and graduated magna cum laude with our baccalaureate degrees at age eighteen. We wanted to get on with life and our careers. We were also driven to succeed. We competed.

We married with the blessing and support of our parents, since we were significantly more mature and motivated than other teens. He went to work, and also got an MBA at Boston University over the next year. I continued on at Harvard with graduate work too, finished my master’s degree in psychology, and then forged ahead a got my Ph.D. in the field.

From our first ‘I love you’ statements to each other there had never been any doubt about our deep connection on a physical and spiritual level. Our parents and many friends told us we were soul mates.

One thing about us from the time we started going together, we were damn near obsessed with sex. Neither of us were virgins when we met, but sex with others was infrequent. Once we committed to each other with love words, we were insatiable. We fucked incessantly, yet somehow managed our studies and then getting started at our jobs.

Russ and I came to believe we were part of the same ‘soul group’, and that we’d interacted in previous lives with each other in many other ways besides boyfriend-girlfriend and then husband-wife in this realm. The inevitability of our connection to each other and the stability of that spiritual connection had a lot to do with how we came to think about the situation that life presented to us.

Russ’ first job out of college was as the youngest techie for a dot-com company in Cambridge called GeoCast. He ended up doing all sorts of jobs for them: programming, product development, logistics, website maintenance, and marketing. As with many dot-comes, he was taking some pay as company stock, and they gave him a little time off to pursue his MBA.

Russ was Russell Pearson. He was incredibly handsome, and looked his age. He was younger than his college or work peers by about four years. He stood six-two, kept trim by running, swam like a fish, and had that square-jawed, bedroom eyes look- tall, dark, and handsome.

Russ found me, Julie Minton, when we were put together in an advanced placement class in early high school. I’d also matured early: cute, trim, slightly busty, and into yoga and Pilates, spirituality, and (later) sex. I could also be a flirt, a point that had gotten me in trouble with older classmates once or twice. I have long brunette hair that hangs down to the middle of my back, and is usually in a ponytail.

We started our marriage living in a pretty sad one-bedroom apartment in Roxbury. We were driven to show that we could t ‘to do it on our own’ and politely turned down parental support to see what we could accomplish.

While the apartment had many downsides, the upside was that it was cheap and we could save money like crazy. Russ’ job paid well, and after I started working even while on scholarship, we just saved all of my paycheck. Ultimately, we agreed that we wanted a really nice home in the suburbs of Boston, even if it was going to be a stretch.

We quickly became very career oriented and worked hard with our heads down. I was wrapped up in academics, and Russ with his dot-com business. He got a few promotions and raises, and still more ‘flaky’ stock shares - at least, I thought they were worthless.

Five years after we got married some good things happened in our life, although not all of them seemed like it at the time. One day, Russ suddenly lost his job, and for a short time we were devastated. GeoCast sold itself to another dot-com based in Texas, and they in-turn brutally cut the local staff.

Over the early years of our married life, we put in a lot of extra hours on our jobs - we made it a habit to work later than the magic hour of five o’clock, and often did work over the weekends. Those few extra hours paid off in money, reputations as people that accomplished great things, and helped us develop some great contacts. Even while losing his job, Russ has sterling references from both work and college. We were just twenty-four.

As it turned out the closing of GeoCast turned into a huge windfall for us. Russ got money for what I’d thought were the relatively worthless stock shares he’d been getting as part of his pay and bonus package.

Suddenly, we had $700,000 in our bank account after taxes were paid. We immediately bought a beautiful big home a little over a forty-minute commute north of Boston in a town named Dillon - four bedrooms, three bath, family room, two-car garage, cul de sac, pool, relatively quiet and private, with neighbors minded their own business.

Our initial furnishing for the house were a laugh. Most came from dumpster diving while we lived in Roxbury and were saving money like it’d go out of style. Others were bargains at used furniture stores such as the Salvation Army or Goodwill. Left-brain as we were, we immediately developed a structured plan to replace everything consistent with a decorating plan that a friend put together for us.

Another man that got also laid off with Russ was Brad Thurman. His wife Lindsey had also worked there as a secretary. They, too, were initially crushed by the closing of GeoCast.com, but their stock shares rescued them from destitution.

The couple were a little older than we were, and one Friday in early summer, they came out for dinner at our new home, despite our mix of new and rag-tag furnishings at that point. I guess I flirted with Brad, and Russ certainly had some appeal to Lindsey. The outcome of our dinner was that we discovered they were as horny and insatiable about sex as we were.

We had a bit of wine and then we suggested skinny-dipping in our new pool. Russ and I did that all the time. They liked that idea, and so the four of us got naked and swam. Soon after that, we had sex with each other’s spouses on the chaises beside the pool. We swapped. We became swingers. We had extramarital sex.

We didn’t plan it. The ‘swap’ was not premeditated. I flirted more with Brad, and Russ responded to Lindsey. Just somehow, suddenly, we were fucking with our counterpart, and then we did it again, and again. Young men have stamina and fast recovery times. We really liked each other.

Brad and Lindsey stayed over, and we fucked our way through Saturday too, getting into the concept of group sex in a big way - sex with each other’s spouses in each other’s presence. They liked what happened and so did we. We planned another get-together for the following weekend. The main agenda item was more extramarital sex.

Russ and I talked extensively during the next week about what had just happened and whether it was any threat to our marriage. Ultimately, after the two of us conducting thorough analyses of ourselves and each other, we decided that it wasn’t.

Subsequently, we spent almost every weekend that summer having a lovely fuck fest with Russ’ old colleagues. I came to really care for the two of them, and was always happy when we were together.

Brad and Lindsey were actively job hunting. Summer is not the best time to be looking, but he did get a couple of interviews. Ultimately, the two of them ended up moving to Atlanta.

Our sex partners disappeared. We were crushed, but understood their need to relocate. Russ and I went back to being just a highly-sexed monogamous couple.

Russ had also been job searching, but only around the Boston and Southern New Hampshire area. He set a criterion that any job had to be within a 60-minute commute from our home in Dillon on a ‘good-weather but rush-hour traffic’ day. He even mapped that out after running some tests on various routes. I helped him as we did the tests.

Russ’ old network of friends from his MBA program and from GeoCast came through for him. He got middle manager’s post for a company named TransData International or TDI. They were an up-and-coming company integrating new technology into older businesses with legacy systems. Instantly, he was back into the mode of putting in long and weekend hours to prove himself and establish a ‘hot shot’ reputation in the new company.

Russ particularly liked that the job required him to be using state-of-the-art technologies in computers, software, algorithms, expert systems, knowledge-based systems, and more.

While that was going on, I threw myself into my own teaching and research career. Russ was fully supportive of me, as I was of him.

With my Ph.D. in hand, I got a good-paying plum job to continue on the as an assistant professor at Harvard. With the bottom-rung job, I got a research grant in transpersonal psychology so I could build on work I pioneered in my dissertation. I also published a seminal paper on my work, and then a book that quickly got adopted by the public as the ‘go to’ book on the subject that also brought in some family money. A couple of other books and many research papers followed. The game was called ‘publish or perish’.

Similar to Russ, I often flitted around the country to give a speech or present a paper on the subject. Moreover, I found two mentors in the psych department who wanted to see me make full professor with tenure before I was thirty years old. They helped me get a quick promotion to associate professor.

A couple of years clicked by and my teaching, research, publishing learned papers, books, and growing reputation became buzzwords in the local academic community. The long hours and weekends that I was also putting in started to payoff. I received several outside awards as well, and started to appear as a psychology ‘expert’ on various TV shows and newscasts, mostly in the Boston area.

The last Friday in May one year, the secretary to the dean of the liberal arts college called me for a late meeting in his office. This was not normal. When I entered, my department chair was there, along with a number of my colleagues. They all looked grim, and I immediately got worried that I was about to lose my job. I didn’t have tenure and always worried about the stability of my employ and career. Dean Michael Howard rose from his chair to greet me as his secretary closed the door behind me, but he looked serious as he shook my hand.

He announced to me and the others in the room, “Doctor Julie Pearson, I have … the honor on behalf of the Board of Trustees and the gentlemen in this room including myself, to inform you that you have been promoted to full professor with tenure, effective today.” Everyone broke into smiles; the long faces had been a put-on to give me that moment of discomfort. Later, we joked about it, bastards that they were.

The dean shook my hand and gave me a polite hug, as did the others in the room. Just shy of age thirty, I joined a unique club of young and very smart people to achieve this honor, including Noam Elkies, Alan Dershowitz, and Lawrence Summers.

A photographer stepped forward from the back of the room and took a number of photographs of me with various combinations of the men and other women in the room. This was a big deal - a really big deal. My knees were shaking and I couldn’t believe that I’d gotten over this great hurdle at such a young age.

Russ was ecstatic for my accomplishment and recognition when I got home that evening and I flew around the house about ten feet off the ground in my happiness and excitement. He broke out our most expensive bottle of wine and we toasted my feat before he escorted me out to dinner at our favorite upscale restaurant.

I babbled and babbled to my husband about the promotion, my work, my colleagues, the honors, and so on. He was so patient. Back at home, I jumped his bones. We’d left the Jacuzzi to heat and stripped and went in ‘au naturel’. We fucked three times out there, and he gave me more orgasms than that. My husband was a championship pussy eater.

Accomplishments and laurels made me especially horny. After the elevation to full professor, there were lunches, parties, and various academic meetings where my feat of early tenure was called out. My hard work had paid off.

I didn’t slack off. Our goal-driven marriage allowed plenty of time to keep the pressure on ourselves. We both continued to put in long days and some weekend time; however, that said, we constantly talked and talked.

I banged out a self-help book on ‘Self Renewal’. Several publishers got wind of it and approached me with deals for publishing and promoting my work. I picked one, the published and promoted, and the thing went viral.

All the attention and accolades around the book, made me super horny again. Russ’ arrival home from work often resulted in my near rape of the man I married. Except for meals and some homework, we spent weekends in bed merrily fucking and pledging our love to each other.

My self-help book launched in an era when such things were amazingly popular. The book eventually went into sixteen printings before things slowed down. I was really popular, and on more and more daytime television shows. I had sterling credentials (Harvard, tenure) and had hit a hot topic that people were interested in (self-renewal).

We teased each other in our lovemaking about the foursomes we used to have with Brad and Lindsey. I was particularly good at painting word pictures of some erotic situation that would turn-on Russ. After that, I could be sure that he would plunder my body just the way I’d hoped.

Around my birthday when I turned thirty, I got the quarterly results for sales of the book. There were off the charts. I had a best seller and would be getting a huge royalty check soon. After work, when I’d gotten some particularly good news about the book, we’d celebrated by going out to dinner at Swans, an upscale restaurant that we saved for special occasions.

Russ feted my achievements at the dinner, and was a dedicated listener and appreciator of what I was accomplishing. He heaped on his own praise, and that was more important to me that all the other stuff that went on.

Towards the end of the meal, I got the feeling that something was a little ‘off’ in his enthusiasm for the event. After were left sipping our dinner drinks, I asked him, “Alright, something’s wrong on your side of life. What is it? Did something happen today?”

Russ nodded and actually chuckled which put me off kilter for what I thought he was feeling. He said, “Well, I had some news today too - career news, but I don’t know what to make of it given where our family is - you and me, that is. I didn’t want to say anything today to take the glow off of your great news. It can wait. Let’s focus on you and the roll you’re on.”

“Tell me,” I insisted. I sat up straight and leaned across the table so he knew I wasn’t going to yield until I knew what was going on. We could be analytical and realistic with each other most of the time. We seldom hid things, preferring to discuss them to death to resolve whatever was going on. We were good communicators, I thought.

Russ sighed and also beamed. He was carrying a strange weight on his shoulders. As a ‘shrink’ I had the ability to see that. After I knew what it was, I’d be able to help resolve the issue.

Russ beamed, “I got promoted to be a vice president of TDI today, but there’s a catch - a big one.” His face fell a bit, but he continued, “The job is VP of West Coast Operations, and it’s right smack dab in the middle of Silicon Valley.”

Chapter 2 - Scope of the Problem

We were celebrating my thirtieth birthday at Swans, and then I detected that Russ had a heavy weight on his shoulders from some piece of psychological luggage. After some prying, Russ finally told me what was stressing him.

Russ had been promoted to vice president of west coast operations for TDI, his rapidly growing company. We’d been hoping for something like this for the past three years, but on the east coast. I didn’t even know they west coast operations. The promotion was overdue.

I got out of my seat and walked around the table so I could kiss my husband. We could be simultaneously happy for each other despite the complication our two situations threw into our relationship. We always found a way to deal with the problems that life threw at us. Many of our problems had dealt with our having accomplished so much by such young ages.

“Tell me more about the job,” I said.

“I’d be the point man for developing the company’s business in Silicon Valley, along the west coast, and in Japan, Korea, and China. TDI has a fledgling operation there now and they want to launch it into the stratosphere, and they believe that I’m the right man to do that. I know the job, and it’s is both a challenge and will be a real feather in the career cap for whomever takes the job.

“The person in the job will have a nearly unlimited budget to hire and to make this happen for TDI. They have some big investors - board members - that have put up a lot of money to do this. Over the past month they had several of us block out our thoughts about how to make this happen. Mine was the only one they felt was viable, implementable, affordable, and likely to succeed. Thus, the offer of the promotion. The benefits going with the job are truly amazing.”

“Tell me. Say more. This is great for you.” I tried to sound upbeat, but I could see the elephant-sized problem we’d be facing.

Russ went on, “The salary for the post is way into six-digits - much more than what I make now - almost triple. That person would become a member of TDI’s executive committee and go on the company bonus plan - also big bucks beyond the salary and normal bonus, plus that person vests in a thousand shares in the company after a year on the new job - that alone is worth a couple of hundred thousand. There are other stock options, and lots of other perks - like a company car, full health and dental insurance, just about unlimited access to any piece of technology that you can think of, lots of vacation - which that person probably couldn’t use because they’d be so busy, and even more. The base of deal looks like a half-million.”

“Like you when you got tenure and full professorship just before turning thirty, I’m still kind of in shock that they offered this to me. I don’t know what to do about it.”

I stopped his worry, at least temporarily over our special dinner. Instead of worrying the geographic dilemma we faced, we reaffirmed the love we felt for each other and our desire to remain deeply connected and committed to each other. We’d often talked about the spiritual connection we had with each other: mind, body, and spirit, across multiple dimensions, multiple universes, and multiple times of existence. We both believed that we were soul mates meant to be together forever.

We made love several times that night after we got home. Neither of us mentioned the ‘problem’ other than I assured him that no problem was insurmountable. We confirmed out love, lust, and our enduring horniness for each other.

* * * * *

Saturday morning after we got back from our seven-mile jog around the town, we sat down at the table. I brought a pad of blank paper ready to take note.

Russ said, “Let’s start with a clear and concise statement of our problem.”

I nodded and he went ahead. “My wife, who I adore, and I have two high-powered, high-paying, career-defining, prestigious jobs that would be 3,000 miles apart if I accept this new job. Further, we love each other and do not want to be apart, nor do we want to impede the other’s remarkable career track.”

I agreed and said, “What do we value that impacts this problem?”

“Good question. We are conscientious over-achievers. We like the power, prestige, reputation, and money that comes with our important work. We both grew up in lower middle-class families that wished they could get ahead the way that we seem to be; so, maybe, we’re over-compensating in some ways. We value situation where we can apply our intelligence and intellect, and be innovative.

“Conflicting with that is the love and sense of family that we have created with each other. We have about seventeen years of being committed to each other since we met, and neither of us would ever want to fracture that. You and I need to be connected nearly constantly - we are very physical with each other.”

Russ sighed and leaned back in his chair. He stared at the ceiling in our breakfast nook and I could almost hear the wheels grinding towards some mystical solution.

Russ rocked forward, looked at me, and said, I got it. I know what to do.”

I was shocked that he’d come up with a solution so quickly. “What?”

“I just turn down the offer. The job would conflict with too many of the things that you and I consider important values in our life, starting with each other.”

I lit into Russ like a buzzsaw through softwood.

I jumped up and screamed, “NO! DON’T YOU DARE TURN DOWN THIS JOB.” I prattled on for two minutes nonstop about how this was like everything he’d been working for since graduating, and on and on.

“There is no question about you taking this new job and running with it. What’s that quote, ‘Fate is what life deals you; destiny is what you do with it.’ We can weather a separation like this for a few years. Jobs, as we know, are temporary. They change over time. Companies get bought and sold, as we know.

“Further, there are things called airplanes that go back and forth between

Boston and Silicon Valley. One or the other of us can be on one of them on a frequent basis.

I went on in my agitated state, “We both sacrificed and put in long hours, sweat, blood, and tears to get to where we are today: my professorship and what you just had offered to you. You take it. We know our marriage and relationship is for the long haul, and that the careers we’re in are for the short haul. We should have fun in them, do the best, and then return to our relationship.”

Russ seemed surprised at how vehement I was about his accepting the promotion and all that went with it. I saw things like this as stepping stones to even greater rewards, and they needn’t be financial.

In the end, we agreed that ‘Super-Commuting’ seemed the only option. We’d be on the two coasts during the week, and one or the other of us would travel back and forth across the country for long weekends.

* * * * *

Russ and I had intense sex drives, a trait we attributed to the same high brain function that made us geniuses. I’d talked about it with my doctor and she said that I was probably ‘hypersexual’. When I studied that term later that day, I discovered that a polite term for ‘nymphomaniac’.

From that point on, I classified myself as a nymphomaniac, and Russ was the male equivalent. Were we unique? Hardly. We reflected back on the hot summer with Brad and Lindsey after discovering that they were as horny as we were. We spent that summer constantly fucking each other’s wives, and not batting an eye about it.

Monday, Russ confirmed that he wanted the job. It started that day as he circulated in the home office and passed off his current work to others.

Before Russ left to start work out west, we talked about how we’d handle our sexual needs. Of course, masturbation topped the list, but we planned to marry that to phone sex, video calls, pictures and sexts, porn, and even home-made ‘raw’ videos. Neither of us raised the possibility of involving other people. At that point, the idea was beyond us.

Although it was humorous, Russ made sure that I had a supply of batteries in my bedside drawer for the various battery-operated sex toys that we’d accumulated. He also left me a certificate with the words ‘Hall Pass’ emblazoned across it, and two-dozen condoms. I don’t who he thought I’d use them with.

Russ and I had rarely been apart for more than one or two nights, as we tended to our business, speeches, papers, and such. Based on little information about what his life would be like on the ground in Palo Alto, we planned for a three-week pause in being together.

Russ called me from his hotel after he’d arrive in Palo Alto. After sharing our day and his trip, he suggested that we both masturbate. We’d been having sex almost daily, so this was in keeping with our level of lust. We did most of what we usually did, which became simply grunting, moaning, and panting into the telephone for each other. He came first and then hung in with me until my climax rolling through me. After that, we said goodnight. I went off to bed, and I knew Russ had a few more hours of ‘up’ time before his west coast bedtime.

The next night we tried the phone sex again. This time, I described how my breasts felt, how my nipples looked, and how I wanted his mouth on them. I dirty talked about how I’d nearly exposed myself to a class of mine one time when I pulled a jacket off over my head and it had also pulled my shirt up, right to the very point the lower curves of my breasts were exposed and the areola were about to show. I’d gone braless that day too. I didn’t get too much further, before I heard Russ groan; he’d cum into a wad of toilet paper. Russ then coaxed me through an orgasm, talking about what he’d like to be doing to my breasts: licking, sucking, and tonguing each tit.

The next day we extended our phone sex to our lower extremities, talking about tongues on clits, cunnilingus, blowjobs, and other wonderful perversions of a sexual nature. We were getting good at ‘dirty talk.’ He also had me start to use some of the bedside toys to help elicit my peaks of pleasure.

This went on for almost three weeks before Russ took a red-eye back to Boston for a long weekend and a day at TDI corporate headquarters. He got to the house by Uber about 8:00 a.m.

We shared a passionate kiss at the front door. I’d been waiting for him. Buttons started flying, snaps and zippers tore, clothes ripped, and we were naked in seconds. I was nearly that way before he came to the door and he was more than compliant.

We were fucking in the living room by 8:05 a.m. We nearly raped each other; except I remembered some quote that you can’t rape the willing. We were all over the room: sofa, chair, coffee table, and then moved to the kitchen counter where he continued to rail his cock into my eager pussy. God, I’d missed him. I needed real cock.

Over that long weekend, with the exception of a few hours during our waking day, we fucked away the entire weekend, pausing only for food and bathroom breaks. We didn’t sleep much either, and when we did I preferred to have his cock in my vagina. We were making up for lost time, and getting some memories in our storage banks for the coming weeks.

In our discussions, we decided that the techniques we’d tried over the past weeks were woefully inadequate and really not that satisfying.

Russ spent Monday at TDI’s offices and took an evening flight back to San Francisco.

We repeated our phone sex ploy over the next three weeks, only this time I flew to San Francisco to see Russ and the new furnished apartment TDI had rented for him as a semi-permanent place to live. Again, we barely left his bed, although Saturday afternoon he did drive me around to see his luxurious office, Stanford, and some of the other sights that made Silicon Valley so famous.

I stayed through Monday, and got the red-eye that night. I’d never realized how bad they were until that trip. I’d never taken one before. I realized just what a labor of love Russ was putting himself through to come home. Even every three weeks, this traveling was a labor of love.

After that month, most of June, we decided that phone sex just wasn’t working for us. By agreement, we started to video with each other. This was marginally better. We’d each set up our laptops, and then proceed to entertain each other sexually as we tried to masturbate our sexual frustrations away.

We had some good times at the start because the ‘Kink Factor’ was high on the videos. We had each other move the devices around for ‘close-ups’ and then full-body shots.

We blew off a lot of steam, but after a few days watching Russ stroke off, as he watched me jill off, the video calls just weren’t that great. I wanted a real cock rubbing against my clit, stroking inside my body, and targeting my G-spot. I wanted cum dripping from my pussy in the sweet afterglow of making love. Even the toys and dildos I added didn’t help.

Over the summer, I also became expert at sexting. I’d send Russ a lewd picture of myself at least once a day, and I often got one from him a few minutes later in return.

In August, I got up enough courage to go into the XTC-Triple-X Store, specializing in books, magazines, DVDs, lingerie, accessories, and other things of a sexual nature. I bought a dozen DVDs. I brought them home, ripped them onto our home computer, and then waited for Russ’ next visit.

Russ came home the following weekend, and true to form, we screwed most of the weekend until we were sated. At one point, I slipped out of the bedroom and loaded all the ripped files into his laptop, hiding each one in a different folder that he was unlikely to find by himself.

After Russ was back in Palo Alto and we’d start messing around in the evening, I’d tell him where to look on his computer to find one of the movies. Together, we’d watch the porn - him on the west coast and me on the east coast. We’d masturbate and comment on the fuck and suck videos. We watched some of them twice, and developed our favorites.

The idea for what I called a Transcontinental Swap emerged during the fifth video we watched. In the video, two couples openly swapped partners back and forth, fucking in a wide range of positions and then doing things as a foursome.

I reminded Russ of the fun we used to have with Brad and Lindsey doing some of the same things. Using my growing competence in dirty talk, I think I got him really cranked up.

The video was hot - very hot, and I also got stoked up like I hadn’t with any of our other long-distance antics.

I flew out to Palo Alto about ten days later. I’d decided ‘Love Swap’ was my favorite video of all time, and I’d jilled off to it about a dozen times besides the video time we shared as we watched my hidden videos.

In the afterglow of our first fuck on my first night on the west coast, Russ and I lay panting together with his shrinking cock still embedded deep in my nest. I broached the subject I’d come armed to talk about as we had ‘Love Swap’ playing next to us on the bed on Russ’ laptop.

Never one to beat around the bush, I asked, “What would you think if we got another couple involved in our love life - a couple where the woman has to be near here, and the guy is in the Boston area? They wouldn’t even have to know each other for that matter.”

There was a long silence, but in that silence I felt Russ swell and harden inside me, quickly regaining his iron-like quality that hallmarked his arousal. He leaned over and kissed me, and then without a word he started to pump his shaft into my sodden pussy. I got a grin from him, and in that grin I had my answer.

Russ and I kicked around how we’d meet someone. Neither of us wanted to mess around with anyone from our work environment for obvious reasons.

Pick-up bars and meat lockers were also not our cup of tea. We weren’t in any clubs that weren’t associated with our work, didn’t go to church, didn’t know many neighbors, and were skeptical of Internet dating where we were a couple and neither of us were looking for a serious love relationship or simple swinging, although the latter might have some appeal if other avenues didn’t work out.

Chapter 3 - The Beginning of a Solution

Russ and I talked specifics the next day as we drove up to the Embarcadero for lunch. He started the discussion by pointing out that we really needed to find another couple that had the mirror image to our situation. His rationale was that they would both have their skin in the game whereas single people wouldn’t.

Moreover, a married couple might be more prone to be supportive of the absent spouse, since they also had a spouse across the country. I agreed with his premise.

True to form Russ also had created a list of potential issues and concerns. He listed them off for me, and told me this was his ‘preliminary’ list.

{i}• What is the potential threat to the longevity of our marriage?

• Will this impact whether and how we love each other?

• How would we find another couple?

• Would their marital problems become ours?

• What if someone got pregnant by the other lover?

• How would we avoid STDs?

• What if we fell in love or only one of us did?

• Would one of us be jealous of what the other was doing?

• What do we tell our parents?

• Would we actually live together or just visit?

• How frequently would we make love? Multiple times a day?

• Would we still do video sex or ‘porn’ calls?

• What happens if we need a ‘spouse’ at some other function?

• How do we deal with comparisons? (size, heft, performance, tightness, wetness, taste, …){/i}

Over lunch, we started to talk about each of the areas Russ had raised. Some were simple to dispose of, while others required a lot more thought than we gave it that day. As we talked, even more questions came to mind. True to form, we laughed a lot about the various issues and possibilities.

We’d keep the realistic view about our marriage that we’d always had, plus the other relationships we’d form. Perhaps we would fall in love, but that didn’t mean our marriage would end; in our discussion we acknowledged that a person could love multiple people at the same time - love in every sense of the word, including lots of sex.

Russ and I agreed that we’d developed ‘romantic feelings’ for Brad and Lindsey when we’d been having our ‘fuck fest weekends’. If things had gone on longer, those would have developed further.

If things got too imbalanced because one partner was in love and the other wasn’t, we should have a pow-wow with the other couple. Everything - emotions, worries, concerns, and happy situations - had to be shared. We needed the ultimate in communications between all four of us.

As for assuming another couple’s problems, if either of the other couple or both became too much of a burden and they were using us as a crutch, we could always end things - or vice versa. We talked about how to create a ‘soft landing’ in such a situation, but we always had to be ready to walk away from what we were doing and with whom.

We agreed not to broadcast our peculiar arrangement to family or casual friends unless it became too obvious. We would not hide our arrangement from the few couples that knew of our new situation and whom we were close to. There was always a chance one of them might know of a situation that we could connect with.

As we talked about admitting to our close friends that we were looking for an ‘inverse relationship,’ I admitted to Russ that we could always just try going to a swinger club to get our rocks off, so to speak. He waffled as to whether that was a viable long-term model.

We talked about relaxing the rule about finding people from work to develop temporary relationships with. The problem with that is that one of us might find satisfaction, but the other would still be scrambling to find a partner.

Back at Russ’ apartment, we started a game we called ‘Fantasies’. We created short mini-stories to share about some situation that got sexual and became satisfying. We’d start with how we met them, who the person was, what we’d do with each other, how it’d feel, how it might taper off or end, and whether there’d be a segue into something else.

We went back to Russ’ list. If we created a bond with another couple and had a social engagement, or if we needed a ‘spouse’ for a business function of some kind, we’d just say we ‘borrowed’ a friend for the occasion. Russ said that if we continually showed up with the same person time and again, tongues would wag.

We didn’t expect this to be a problem since most of our outings were with our close friends or family. We would go solo to family functions, but we’d let our close friends in on what we were doing and why.

Russ said, “We need two stories - the public one and the private one. The private one is the reality that we create with the other couple. The way we’ve been talking, that’ll involve a lot of sex with my ‘temporary wife’ or your ‘temporary husband’.”

He shrugged, “I’m okay with most of our non-business friends knowing or thinking they know what that is like. The motivations, what we’re doing, the implications, and the results would all be known.

“The public story is the ‘Little White Lie’ that we tell other people who we’d just not want to hear the private one. For instance, even though you are fucking the ‘temporary husband’ ten times a day, you tell your parents, for instance, that you went to such-and-such with a neighbor or friend from the university. There’s no further explanation, and certainly no hint that sex is taking place.

“What’s important is that you be consistent in the stories, and that we tell each other who is getting which version of the truth.” I wondered whether we could keep all of that straight.

We didn’t think jealousy would be an issue if we were both open and talked about what was happening frequently, particularly if either of us felt the green-eyed monster appearing on the horizon. I’d read about polyamory and how they viewed jealousy, so I thought we could make that adaptation to what we’d been taught.

I explained about ‘Compersion’ to Russ, and he got the concept right away. “I agree. Once whatever we do is operational, I’ll feel good that you are being satisfied. Believe me, I’m already sorry that I leave you in the lurch when I head to the west coast. I’ll live with the guilt forever.”

As usual, Russ’ more practical sense of things made the jealousy issue a little more real when he told me to shut my eyes. He said, “Now, imagine you’re tucked into bed and it’s about one in the morning. You know it’s ten o’clock on the west coast and that I’m getting ready for bed, and so is my beautiful female companion. We’re both nude and horny, and we can’t wait to fuck - to make love. You envision us falling into bed with our hands all over each other, playing with each other’s intimate parts. You imagine me rising over my partner and sinking my hard cock deep into her pussy; you can almost hear the moans of pleasure across three-thousand miles. You watch us make love, and cum, and cuddle each other.”

After a silence, Russ said, “Julie, how do you feel?”

I nodded - speechless. I could see his point. Unless I’d just had my own pussy pounded into oblivion by some handsome stud of a guy, I’d have some twinges of jealousy. Russ was getting nookie, and I wasn’t. I could imagine he might feel the same way, wondering what I would be up to.

Russ said, “One way to deal with this is to know - just know with certainty - that I am screwing around ALL the time, and I know you are too. Then, at least, we aren’t wondering ‘whether’ it might be happening; we should know it’s a sure thing. Second, we both need to develop a feeling that over time things will even out. So, if I have three nights of wild sex in a row and you don’t, just know that your new stud of a boyfriend might take you down to Cape Cod for a long weekend and never let you out of bed … and that same weekend, I’m in the office from dawn to late working on a proposal for some Chinese company we hope to have as a client. Over time, it’ll even out. We need a sense of karma.”

I said, “I can live with that, at least for now. I do see how it’ll become more real when we actually have a relationship with another couple and are doing things with them. You know I’m the academic - everything looks great on paper, but human emotions and unpredictable situations arise to throw all those theoretical speculations out the window. That’s why I like my clinical work. We need data and anecdotal information.”

The issue of trust got some discussion, but we were already high communicators and except for maybe a day or so around Christmas, anniversaries, or birthdays, we rarely hid anything from the other.

We moved on down Russ’ list. When he mentioned STDs, we agreed that we’d all get tested and then stay loyal to the foursome. If any of us ventured outside that, they would restrict their activities to use of condoms or go for a dry spell until they could get retested with a clean bill of health.

I asked, “Russ, do you think one of us will have yet a further relationship outside of engaging another couple somehow?”

He nodded, “Well, if we really have an open marriage, then the possibility is there. Maybe you go to some conference - or I do - or we just happen to run into an old friend, or who knows what. I can think of a million ways we might find someone we’d like to have a fling with. I’ve constantly had that switch turned off, and I know you have too, but now we’ve turned on the ‘other options are available’ switch. We’re open to other people, and we may invite them to be open with us.

“One of the premises of an open marriage is that we’re dedicated to each other’s growth in multiple ways as well as willing to be spontaneous. It’s good that we are each open to doing things that trigger new emotions, generate new experiences and learnings, and are sources of fun, intellectual stimulation, physical awareness, or spiritual touchpoints.”

“I see what you mean. It’s nothing planned, it just might happen.”

“Yeah, and I think that means both of us should start to carry some condoms in our travels - like the boy scouts, ‘always prepared.’ We laughed, but both knew the recommendation had teeth to it. I’d pick up some the next day at the local pharmacy and split the box with Russ.

My solution to the pregnancy issue was to be double protected. I was on the pill, but I resolved to get an IUD as well. Russ promised to always check on his partners’ susceptibility to fertilization. We laughed, but were serious about this.

The idea of living with the partners of our second couple seemed the best alternative, although that would signal to the neighbors some new situation between us. Nonetheless, being with each other at night would resolve our ‘horniness’ issue as well as the time of night problem which Russ and I had run into several times - he had a late meeting, and I was long in bed asleep before he could talk. As for frequency, we both laughed, and said ‘as much as possible, as often as possible.’

The idea of making comparisons between each other and our mystery partner struck us as funny. I saw that the only thing that might upset us is if those comparisons were thrown in the other’s face in a malicious way. They would be inevitable, but we could bask in the differences and enjoy them too. We laughed at all the possible comparisons: X’s cock and Russ’ cock; my tits and Y’s tits; the feel and taste of different pussies; the amount of cum left behind; the amount of pussy juice squirted; and on and on. We were worked up, but laughing.

The anticipation exercise was a good one because it put us on guard about how to handle them. Russ and I both agreed that in any situation, we should avoid putting each other on the spot by asking ‘Is she or he better than I am’ in some quality. We acknowledged there would be differences, some good and some less good, but we shouldn’t dwell on them.

I suggested that we frame an advertisement and put it in the ‘right’ newspapers or websites in each geographic area and see what materializes. We had fun making the ad, and in the end had about 175 words that seemed to get the message across.

Personals: Transcontinental Couple Seeking Similar

Couple for Unusual Relationship

Professional dual-career married couple (~ten years) has become bi-coastal for the indefinite future - him in Palo Alto, and her in Cambridge for work and Dillon, MA for home. We are early-thirties, college educated (MBA, Ph.D.), bright, motivated, go-getters, impatient to succeed, handsome, pretty, athletic, trim, shapely, sculptured, and very lusty (both of us). He’s in high tech. She teaches/research at nearby college.

We seek a couple that has opposite geographic problem to ours: she’s in near Palo Alto, and he’s in the Boston area. We opened our marriage because of our expected significant time apart. We aren’t into pick-up bars, clubs, or even internet dating (except for this), so this ad is a hope to meet some others with a complementary problem.

We have only a hazy vision of what this two-couple bi-coastal relationship might become; if you’re the ones, help us build this vision and become our intimate friends. We are still in love, want to be in touch often, plan to travel back and forth as we can to keep that contact and spark alive. Phone and video calls just don’t cut it (particularly in our love life!). Send pix to speed things along. COUPLES ONLY - married preferred. Box 5661403.

Once back in Boston, I placed our ad in the Boston classifieds in the personals section of a couple of newspapers including a few alternative media papers and one online site.

Russ did likewise with several papers and one classified ad on an internet site in the Bay Area. The first week Russ got four email replies and I got six, all from single guys; we didn’t respond to any of them. The pictures were on the gross side.

We both reposted or edited the ads two weeks later. I’d learned we should use MW4MW as code for couple looking for couple. This time I also posted to the Boston area What’s Up list and so did Russ in the Bay area..

Chapter 4 - A Legitimate Response

We got three genuine replies this time, each with a photograph. We sent them back and forth to each other as Russ was again marooned on the west coast for a weekend. One we ruled out immediately because the man and woman were seriously overweight, and we just didn’t want to contend with that. A second we ruled out because the couple looked to be eighteen years old, and we didn’t want to be robbing the cradle.

The third couple, Jo and Dirk, looked about our age in the photo they sent. They were standing in casual attire at some waterfront restaurant and obviously having fun. The accompanying email said:

Saw your ad but couldn’t believe someone would have the same problem that we do. Jo (Joann) is in Mountain View, CA - living and working in a good job we don’t want to compromise. Dirk has had to take over his father’s business near Boston due to his dad’s illness, and get it orderly to sell - a process we expect to take two to three years.

Except for one visit, we’ve been apart two months now, and don’t like it. We’ve given each other the freedom to experiment with others, but never thought of a longer-term relationship such as you suggest. We wonder about the chemistry, and suggest that we meet. The problem is that Dirk is east, and I’m west, so we don’t think we would meet simultaneously. Anyway, we are interested in your proposition. Warm regards, Jo and Dirk. Box 9473712

I suggested to Russ that he respond and set up a meeting with Jo somewhere public. If he did it on the right day and time, I could even video in on his iPad to say hello. Moreover, if Jo looked ‘legit’ I could then repeat the process in the Boston area with Dirk.

Russ emailed the box and got a phone number in reply. He called the phone number Jo had given and got a pleasant woman on the other end of the line. After introductions and some embarrassed laughter, the two decided to meet for lunch four days later at Viva Sol, a busy Mexican restaurant on the Camino Real in Mountain View.

I agreed to keep my iPad at the ready from about three-thirty on that day, understanding that if Russ didn’t call before four o’clock, he didn’t like what he’d discovered.

The video app on my iPad triggered off exactly at three-thirty. I opened the link, and there was Russ wobbling around on the screen as he set up his iPad on the restaurant table. In the lower part of the screen I could see two half-eaten lunches.

Next to Russ sat a very pretty brunette (like me), looking a little uncomfortable and embarrassed, but resigned to the situation of being ‘on the air’.

Russ said, “Julie, I’d like to introduce Jo, and Jo meet my wife Julie. Julie, just so you know, we are in a back booth in this restaurant and we’ll keep the volume low so no one else can hear us.”

We both said, “Hi.” I wondered if our conversation would get beyond those short words. I was speechless.

My counterpart in California was stunningly beautiful. I was almost jealous that my husband was even having lunch with her, let alone thinking of setting up house with her in some way.

I ventured, “Jo, you are so pretty. Can you tell me about yourself and then, if you want, I will too.”

Jo shifted in her seat; “Well, I’m thirty-two, grew up in Denver, and was a pretty good student. I graduated from the University of Denver with a degree in physics and got a job for a company in Silicon Valley called Innovative Technology Initiatives or ITI, and I’ve been with them since graduation. If all goes well in the next year or so, I’ll become their head of R&D. I work in their product development department. It very techy and recently we’ve been toying with artificial intelligence and how to incorporate that into our work and products. Everyone in the company’s management is young.”

She paused, “Let’s see, Dirk and I met on my first day at ITI. He was a grad student at Stanford doing an internship with them. He went to work for Google after graduation, and up until five months ago he was working for them on their driverless car. He’s good at complex data algorithms. He has a degree in computer science.

“In December, his dad had a heart attack so Dirk got a leave of absence and went back to Massachusetts to hold the business together and care for his parents as his father recuperated. His father now has serious limitations to what he can do. Dirk and his dad decided to sell the tool and die company, but the economy hit the business so Dirk is nursing it back to health so it’ll be attractive to a buyer.

“They think they’ve turned the corner, but the company’s accountants think it may take as long as three years before the business would be attractive and viable enough for a sale to take place. We love each other dearly, and just can’t imagine being alone and apart that long.”

Jo hesitated again and added, “We live in a nice town house here in Mountain View. I have a small Bichon named Charlie, and he has quite a personality. He adores me and won’t let me out of his sight. I can take him to work with me and usually do. Dirk and I have been postponing children, but this geographic gap in our marriage has thrown a monkey wrench into our planning - everything in our lives. Dirk flies home every three or four weeks so we keep things together, but it’s a serious strain.”

After another pause, Jo wiped her eyes and smiled. “You say something now, or ask me questions. I’m getting embarrassed talking about myself. I don’t want this to be superficial. I’ve never done anything close to this.”

I started, “Okay, and I am loaded with questions, but about me. First off, I teach psychology at Harvard, and do research in the obtuse area of transpersonal psychology. I do teach one undergrad section in general psych and several advanced classes, even for grad students, and a small clinical practice about one day a week. I have a B.A., from Tufts, and an M.A., and Ph.D. from Harvard. I just got tenured and a full professorship before I turned thirty - so pretty young by most standards.

“I have several grants I’m working on too, so I keep busy during the day, also managing the students that work on my grants. My parents live near Portland, Maine. I met Russ in high school. We married on my eighteenth birthday when we finished college, so have been married twelve years. He can tell you about himself. We have a nice house that we own in a town called Dillon, Massachusetts, and we’ve been working on one room at a time fixing it up since we bought it two years ago, but it’s a slow process for us because we’re so dedicated to and busy with work. Oh, we’ve been postponing kids too.”

After my pause, I thought I should add something about the arrangement we were seeking. “Jo, I hope Russ has told you that we are not swingers or swappers or whatever you call them these days. The idea doesn’t turn us off, we just aren’t looking for that. This may be a crazy idea, but Russ and I have … well, high sex drives. Since being freshmen in high school it’s been a rare day that we haven’t made love multiple times a day when we’re near each other. This separation is doing a number on both of us. When we get together we’re like a bag of horny rabbits.”

Jo laughed. “Dirk and I are the same way. We can never get enough of each other. I think we pull the national average up.” She added, “I want you to know we are very much in love, apparently just like you two. We don’t want to lose each other, but we are willing to add people like you to our relationship if we connect on multiple levels - in other words, have good chemistry with them.” She whispered, “We don’t want just fuck buddies. If there is someone else for either of us, they have to share a deep interconnection with both of us and be more than willing to happily share us with our real spouses.”

Russ stepped in and repeated to me some of the insights into Jo and Dirk’s life he’d learned since they met less than an hour earlier. We chatted another couple of minutes, but then I had to end the call to see a student who had been patiently waiting in the hall outside my office. I turned my iPad around so they could see my cluttered office and the student at my office door.

We agreed that the logical next step was for me to meet Dirk. We swapped telephone numbers, and gave each other an open invitation to talk further. I promised that I’d call after meeting Dirk, and they’d had a chance to talk about next steps and us.

I saw my student, and then started a six o’clock evening class in advanced psychology for grad students. In the middle of class my phone buzzed on vibrator. I snuck a peek at the screen. Russ had texted, “Lunch ended. Back at work. I like Jo A LOT. Expect call from Dirk soon.” Without missing a beat, I continued my lecture, talking about Carl Jung’s outlook on spirituality.

Dirk called the next day while I was having a sandwich in my office. While he sounded all business, I suspected it was because he’d been wheeling and dealing all morning in his work efforts. I agreed to meet him at the bar in the Charles Hotel at six that evening for drinks and dinner since it was only a short walk from my work.

The photograph of Jo and Dirk did not do him justice. Dirk turned out to be a hunk, a dreamboat, heartthrob, looker, hottie, and chick magnet all rolled into one very nice man with low ego needs. I could see why Jo had been attracted to him instantly, and I thought I shared the same attraction.

My connection with Dirk came at multiple levels from the start of our conversation and our touching as we shook hands. I felt a bolt of electricity shoot through my body to his and back again. He felt it too, because he looked surprised and then actually looked at his hand.

We talked for three hours, long after our meals had been cleared away. We couldn’t get enough of each other. The more we talked the stronger the connection I felt to him, and he admitted feeling the same way.

We spent a long time talking about ‘The Arrangement,’ as Russ and I had started to call it. I told Dirk about the various discussion questions we’d posed to each other and how we’d answered them. Each of those triggered an even deeper discussion between the two of us, particularly about how Dirk - and most likely Jo - would feel about their mate ‘being with’ somebody else part of the time.

We talked about love, and how important that was to us. Like us, Dirk told me he and Jo believed it was possible to love more than one person - and we made sure we were talking about love that included spiritual sexuality and physical bonding.

We finally felt we should end our first meeting about nine. Dirk paid for my dinner, despite my trying to add my share. As we walked out, he remarked, “I loved having this first date with you. I hope we can do it again - soon.” He walked me to my car, and I turned and pulled him to me for a goodbye kiss.

I put a lot of psychic and sexual energy into that kiss, and I got the same back from him. Dirk’s warm soft lips caressed mine; we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves for sixty seconds or so. We parted after that, but I knew we’d given each other something serious to think about. I had to fan my face.

He needed to go home and talk to his wife on the west coast, and I needed to report my findings and feelings to Russ. We talked for an hour after I got home. Half of that was phone sex invoking the memory of our two new friends. The other half was talking about next steps. We agreed that we should each invite our ‘dates’ to a more intimate setting, and see what develops.

I asked with some degree of concern, “So, if Dirk wants to make love to me, should I let him?”

Russ was silent while he thought about that question. Even before we got married I’d learned to allow him these periods for thought; I knew I would always get some high degree of wisdom after he’d engaged his inner-self in the response.

He answered, “I think that’d be all right so long as Jo knows about it and approves ahead of time. I don’t think the east coast should get ahead of the west coast, or the other way around, at least at the start of this adventure.

“For this next round, I’d be content if we just made out a little - maybe petted but didn’t go much further. Let’s go slow and be sure the spiritual connections and chemistry are there - for us and for them. If either of us wants to pick up the pace, there’s always our cell phones.”

I agreed. I also told Russ that I’d invite Dirk to the house for dinner on Friday night. Russ told me he’d arrange something like that with Jo.

I slept that night with the vision of both Russ and Dirk making love to me simultaneously. They plundered my body with tongues, lips, and cocks. When I woke up my crotch was flooded with sexual juices resulting from my dreams. The Arrangement felt like a step in a good direction, one where we’d all expand our love and learn from each other.

I texted Dirk the next morning, ‘Can you join me for dinner chez moi on Friday evening, say 7 p.m.? If so, I’ll email you directions to our home. Signed, Hopeful.’

Only a minute later I got a reply, ‘Dear Hopeful. I accept with great delight. What may I bring to help? Signed, Eager.’

I shifted to email, sent directions to the house and suggested a bottle of nice wine. I also emphasized casual clothes, and suggested he bring a swimsuit to enjoy our pool and spa. I got a reply soon after I hit the send button, “I wish today were Friday. Can’t wait to see you again. XOXO Dirk.’ Just to keep Russ in the loop I forwarded to him the email exchange with Dirk.

I chortled at the kisses and hugs signature. I guess we were each testing the other. Russ told me by email the next day that he was going to Jo and Dirk’s home on Friday instead of preparing something for Jo in his new bachelor pad accommodations. She’d turned the tables on him with a better and more convincing dinner invitation.

I also told Russ about my dream the night before where he and Dirk had made love to me. He relished hearing about it, and commented on how many men, including him, had the fantasy of seeing their pretty wives make love with another man.

I speculated about how that probability was growing by the minute, and that we might actually have a foursome sometime if all of this worked out with the four of us. I got a rise out of him by suggesting that after the guys had tired themselves out with Jo and me, that Jo and I might keep ourselves occupied by putting on a little sapphic entertainment for the men. I could almost feel Russ harden across the electrical miles.

Chapter 5 - Chemistry

I flowed into Dirk’s arms after setting aside the two bottles of wine he’d brought. We kissed and hugged for much longer than casual friends would do. He felt and tasted delicious, and I again marveled at how nicely he kissed. Eventually, I pulled him into the kitchen while I did a few last-minute cooking things to demonstrate my domestication.

I think we both knew that we were testing the chemistry that we felt with each other with the hugging and kissing. Pushing it a little further than normal was part of that.

Our conversation flowed naturally. Dirk talked about the shift from being a knowledge worker on the west coast, plugged into a computer all day working on driverless car algorithms, to now running a tool and die manufacturing company with raw materials stock, hands on production, and outgoing inventory, most of which was made to customer specs.

Suddenly, I was learning about stamping die, casting die, molding die, and extrusion die. This was a part of my education that I’d missed completely. I was fascinated how some of what the company made got used by other companies.

Dirk got me talking about my clinical psychology practice that I did parttime, and my interest in transpersonal psychology. The latter led to a deeper discussion about the spiritual foundations of our lives. I said something about ‘my life as a spiritual being having a human experience’. He stopped me cold so he could ponder that Idea.

Dirk said, “I’d been taught that it was the other way around. I was a human being questing after spiritual enlightenment and unification. You just blew my mind with what you said.

Like Russ and me, Dirk and Jo were spiritual but not religious. More than that, they had read many of the great masters and integrated their teachings into their own philosophy of love and life. We started to glow when we found we shared the same basic philosophy.

We galloped through hors d’oeuvres in the kitchen as I worked, and then dinner at our formal table, and then Dirk helped with clean up and put away before we opted for some coffee and an after-dinner liqueur in the living room.

I put several different liqueurs from our living room bar on the coffee table. Dirk asked, “What’s your preference?”

“I guess some Kahlua. It’ll blend better with the coffee.” I smiled warmly at Dirk as he poured a glass for me.

Dirk came to where I stood with the glass, but to my surprise he took a sip of my drink. He then moved into kiss me. I accepted the kiss without questioning the moment, but I did wonder what was happening. Only a few seconds into the kiss, I felt Dirk’s tongue probing my lips. I opened to accept his French kiss, and then to my amazement and great arousal Dirk squirted the liqueur into my mouth, while preserving the sexy, romantic, and seductive kiss.

My God, it was like he was injecting his inner core into mine. I even thought of him shooting his semen into my vagina. How sexy. That one move shot my arousal into the stratosphere.

As our kiss ended, I whispered, “I bet you know exactly what you just did to me. I could feel that kiss in every erogenous zone of my body, particularly my pussy.”

Although Dirk looked a little guilty about the effect he just had on me, I pulled him into another kiss and this time I ground my body into his so there was no mistaking my inner feelings and their outer manifestation. My grind had a lot of pelvic action against his leg to it.

I’d been turned on before Dirk even arrived at the house. I knew what we were testing - our chemistry, but I’d already felt great vibes and chemistry with him from my welcoming kisses and hugs, our dinner and closing kiss, and now this French kiss with the liqueur. I wanted this to work, and I was willing to put in the time. Being turned-on by him, was the least of my worries.

Russ had been away almost two weeks. He’d be home in two more week, but here was Dirk, a surrogate husband who had just sent a lightning bolt of excitement through every pore of my body. Oh, if I hadn’t agreed to wait, I’d be jumping all over this handsome man’s bones.

Dirk repeated our liquid kiss, and this time I really got into it with him. Time stood still, but my heart beat at a very rapid rate. I felt sexually excited and wanted this man, but I had to be measured in our steps according to Russ. Neither coast could get ahead of the others. We’d agreed, hadn’t we.

As we kissed, I thought of how I felt some deeper emotions and connections with Dirk. Since I dealt with emotions and feelings in my work, I could quickly examine and categorize them. I felt - we felt - a spiritual connection and a physical connection with one another. We couldn’t have the latter without the former; at least I knew I couldn’t. If we did something, it would not be a one-night stand.

After we made out and slowly finished my small glass of liqueur with his novel delivery technique, I suggested, “Want to take a swim? Between the weather and the heater, the pool should be pretty nice for a dip to polish off the evening.” Even as I made the invitation, I reached up and started to unbutton Dirk’s white button-down shirt.

Dirk said, “I left my swim trunks in the car.”

I kissed him and whispered, “You won’t need those tonight. We’re going skinny dipping.”

Dirk said, “I agreed with Jo … that tonight I wouldn’t … you know, go all the way.”

I kissed him and said, “I have the same agreement with Russ. That doesn’t mean we can’t come pretty close to that boundary? We can save everything else for another night real soon, maybe. Russ felt that Jo should approve our joining, and that you should approve her doing something with him. He’ll be home in two weeks.”

Dirk shook his head, and looked in awe as I pulled the casual top I’d been wearing over my head revealing the lacy bra I wore. His mouth dropped open even further when I shimmied out of my Bermuda shorts revealing the matching thong. The bra and thong were gone in seconds.

“Come on, the pool’s this way.”

Before we went outside, I pulled the rest of the clothes from Dirk’s magnificent body and parked them on a hallway chair. I put the rest of my own clothing there too, feeling Dirk’s eyes roam over my body as I seductively moved around the room. When I looked at him and his erection, I had to resist the urge to rub my body all over his and plunge myself down on his cock. I led us out the door to the pool.

I needed to cool off. I was in sexual heat, and I knew that cool water wouldn’t necessarily do the job, but I thought it might at least help. I went to the edge and dove into the pool. As I surfaced, I heard the splash from Dirk’s dive into the deep end right with me.

Dirk surfaced next to me and pulled me into his arms. I could feel his hard-on against my body. I trapped his sex against my abs and moved around. I squirmed around until I captured his shaft between my legs, tightening my thighs around the elongated rod of erotic skin. He could rub the shaft right against my vulva and … Oh, fuck, my clitoris. I slowly humped him as we kissed and steam rose from the pool.

Dirk moaned. “If you do that, we won’t keep our promises.”

I released him and floated away in the dim light. I said to him, “I wonder what our spouses are doing right now? Dinner? Making out? Fucking their brains out?”

Dirk floated after me. “About now, I expect they’re having a romantic dinner by candlelight. There is the air of seduction throughout the house, however. They’ve made out a lot before dinner, and about now, knowing Jo, she wants Russ badly the same way I want you. I suspect they’ll end up pleasing each other in some way other than intercourse. Will you allow me to pleasure you?”

I teased, “Russ doesn’t have as much willpower as he thinks. Can’t you just imagine your hot wife lying back on your living room sofa as my husband slides his cock in and out of her body? Maybe Jo doesn’t have any willpower either, and that’s what is going on. We can hope they’re leading the way for us.”

I rubbed my erect nipples against his chest and asked him, “What would you like?” I was hoping he’d say something about plunging his cock into my body and I’d instantly agree that was a great idea.

“Sit on the edge of the pool.” Dirk helped lift me to an edge near the house. As I sat on the edge, he spread my legs. He kissed up and down each wet thigh, and then ran his tongue up and down my dripping slit - a pussy dripping from both pool water and sexual excitement. I jerked alert as he hit every nerve ending of delight he found - and I had a lot of them.

I groaned out, “Oh, Dirk; if you do that, I know we won’t keep our promises.”

Dirk said nothing, but became more and more enthusiastic about his cunnilingus, and the path he took me on to my first orgasm of the evening. I shuddered and moaned at the satisfaction he delivered to me.

My nipples had hardened into small robust spikes of skin. Occasionally, he’d stand up more and suck on one and then the other. Russ had always commented about there being a direct connection between my nips and my clitoris. I sure felt it that night.

I soared into deeper and deeper sexual heat about this man, and about our sexual union. I started to think about how to make that happen sooner rather than later. I wanted to fuck. No, that wasn’t right; I needed to fuck, and damn soon too.

My first orgasm flooded my mind and my body. I say first, because after that he brought me to two more, his fingers joining his lips and tongue to bring joy to my sex - joy without intercourse. He sawed his fingers into me as I arched and jerked my body into his efforts to bring me off. He was successful.

Dirk whispered, “You’re very gratifying to make love to because you cum so often. Let’s try this.” With those words, two of Dirk’s fingers wormed their way into my cunt and searched until they found the skin Russ tells me is a different texture and feel - my G-spot. With his tongue on my clitoris and fingers rubbing just the right way on my ‘G,’ I shot into the sky like a Fourth of July fireworks display.

I’m sure the neighbors heard my squeals of pleasure and knew exactly what was transpiring beside our pool. The orgasm was the best of the night, so far, and I had to push Dirk’s head away from me so I could savor the afterglow and stop from becoming over-stimulated.

Dirk stood and pulled me into his arms, my splayed legs wrapping around his torso as he stood in the pool. His cock rubbed right against my pussy. I wanted him inside me. Just a few millimeters and we’d be fucking. Shit! We kissed with our tongues dancing wildly. I pushed myself off the edge back into the pool, still feeling the aftershocks of the string of orgasms.

“You sit on the edge now. My turn to pleasure you.” I patted the spot where I’d been sitting.

Dirk jumped onto the side of the pool. I spread his legs, moved between them, and wrapped my right hand around his magnificent erection. I pumped his shaft as we kissed, and then I allowed my tongue to grace the glans just before sucking the entire shaft into my mouth. I just ignored the slight chlorine taste, the same way he must have, as he ate me.

I thought of the discussion Russ and I had about comparisons. I couldn’t help but compare the two men. Dirk was longer and thinner, but just as hard as Russ had ever been. I thought of an expression Russ had used when I’d ask if he were ready for sex: ‘Baby, I could pound nails with my cock right now.’ Dirk was more than ready. I was ready to be a nail.

I bobbed my head up and down as I sucked, licked, and even ran my teeth along the giant shaft that seemed so hard. Eventually, I bobbed down lower and lower until I could press my nose against Dirk’s pubes. I knew I must have had at least three inches of raw cock in my throat. It took work, but at least I’d done it.

We didn’t go too long with my blowjob until Dirk warned, “I’m near, my darling lover.”

I made a ‘Mmmmmm’ sound to indicate I’d heard him, and continued with renewed vigor. I could feel an extra hardness not only to his cock, but also to the muscles surrounding his groin. I felt his body pulse slightly into my mouth, and then a few seconds later the cum exploded into my mouth and throat in an eruption the world’s largest volcano might envy. I took load after load as each ejaculation spurted inside my mouth. He tasted good.

When he’d stopped, I pulled away and opened my mouth to show him all the cum in my mouth. He looked at me, obviously aroused beyond the limits of anyone on the planet.

I had a nasty thought - something Russ and I did when I gave him blowjobs and was feeling naughty. I moved with my open mouth to Dirk, obviously intending to kiss him with my mouth still full of his cum. He yanked my body to his, my full breasts initially rubbing against his still erect cock as I rose.

We kissed, and I felt his tongue dart into my mouth before I reversed the process. I jetted the cum back into Dirk’s body and heard him sigh. I pulled away when I’d gotten rid of half my load. He opened his mouth to me, showing me the white fluid. We both swallowed, and then moved to kiss some more.

“I thought I’d gross you out.” I chortled to him a moment later.

He explained, “When Jo and I started dating, she told me if I expected her to take it in the mouth and swallow, then I’d better be prepared to do the same thing. I quickly learned the pleasure from the act, and then the grossness many men feel about this act faded. I often eat my cum from Jo’s pussy after a juicy fuck. She’s always good for at least one more orgasm that way.”