1. Sandy, Debbie, Matt and I: Wife Swap


    Date: 5/31/2015, Categories: Wife Lovers, Author: CommunicationDirectr, Rating: 13, Source: LushStories

    party. “Go for it,” I told Debbie. I didn’t realize at the time that those three simple words had a deeper meaning. I was pissed when I saw Matt slow dancing with Debbie. I mean, really pissed - and not at Debbie, but at Matt. When Frank sat down next to me on the couch, and placed his hand on my thigh, just above my knee, everything came to a head at once. It was my idea to slow dance with Frank. I did it hoping to piss off Matt. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Matt, I soon realized, was making a play for Debbie. When Debbie ripped her panty hose, I warned her in the ladies’ room about Matt’s intentions. Debbie responded, “He’s not a bad guy. He adores you.” “So much so,” I replied, “that he felt a need to hand-inspect your butt. I’m not blind.” Debbie told me that Frank was no saint either. Long story short - I went to a hotel with Frank that night and Debbie took Matt home with her. None of us ever spoke about that night. For Matt and I, it was the beginning of the end of our marriage. Looking back, I had no regrets, because I was better off single than with Matt. I ended my story at this point and emailed it to Frank. He emailed back: “Where are the graphic details?” I wrote back. “I am better at show than tell.” “Sure wished we could do it again,” Frank responded. “So where the hell are you?” I typed. “Near Dallas,” Frank typed back. "Holy smokes; I live in Dallas!" “We should meet up sometime,” Frank wrote back. My womanly senses tingled at the thought of seeing ...
    Frank again. “I’ve aged,” I replied. “Do you have a picture to share?” he emailed back. I looked through my photos and found one that I liked and emailed it to him. “Wowza!” Frank responded. We exchanged phone numbers. Within a few minutes, we were chatting on the phone. It was great to hear Frank’s voice. I lost total track of the time. We agreed to meet for a lunch date and set a day, time and place. As Tuesday approached, I was a nervous wreck. I wondered if Frank would still like me. I fretted over what to wear, and what I might say. I must have tried on ten different outfits, and none of them seemed to work. I texted Frank. “I am nervous,” I wrote. Frank texted back. “Why?” “I don’t know what to wear,” I texted. “LOL,” Frank texted back. “I am serious,” I responded. “Anything you wear, or don’t wear, is okay with me,” Frank responded. “You’re not a big help,” I replied. Frank responded with a smiley face emoji. I was off on Tuesday, so I spent all morning showering, fixing my hair and picking out just the right outfit. I settled on a casual pair of designer jeans and a loose-fitting button-down white blouse, over which I would wear a rhinestone denim jacket. I clipped on some small pearl drop earrings - the only left-over item I had from my marriage to Matt. It felt good to wear them, knowing I was meeting an old lover. I arrived at the barbeque place at 11:00. I was not only nervous and anxious, I was thirty minutes early. I took a seat at a booth near the back of the ...
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