Part 2: Wherein we have monogamous group sex and some other things happen
(You may be looking for Part 1)

I. Monogamous Group Sex

It was during an evening of drinking and watching TV at their place that the four of us first had monogamous group sex, or same-room sex if you prefer, or watching and being watched while fucking if the other two terms are too unclear. I’m not sure how it all started, though if I remember right my girlfriend and I initiated it, and Danny and Joan followed suit. As I recall alcohol was involved. Danny was quite the bartender, and would regularly mix a variety of drinks for us when we came to visit. I’m certain he was hoping the alcohol would lower my girlfriend’s inhibitions and, being a club-going, booze-fueled party girl in her early twenties, she didn’t have a problem with that. Neither did I; she was gorgeous, his interest in her was a turn-on, and I was certainly down with social nudity and same-room fucking.

These shenanigans occurred several times over the next year and a half, usually at their place but a couple times at my own. In summer we’d go to my parents’ house to skinny-dip in their pool when they were out of town. Afterwards we would often fuck side-by-side on the guest bed. It was exciting and taboo to see them naked and in a relatively vulnerable position (or sometimes several), though the four of us never discussed taking it any further, i.e. threesomes or swapping, outside of fantasy. At least on the surface, we were all happy with simultaneous voyeurism and exhibitionism.

Sure, I would have liked things to go further and I suspect that I wasn’t the only one. But I knew it wasn’t going to happen. At one point Danny and Joan told me that they thought it was easier and less of a risk for my girlfriend and I since we were just dating and they were married. That didn’t make much sense to me at the time, and it still doesn’t. It seemed that there was less risk for a married couple than one who was just dating. A married couple is presumably sufficiently confident in their relationship to chance doing something of this nature, something at the relatively non-threatening end of the non-monogamy spectrum. After all, they’re married! Why would they be married if there was a risk of something like this hurting their relationship? And if there was a risk, why would they do it?

And regarding our own relationship, although they didn’t say it, I guess they figured that if what we were doing tore apart my relationship with my girlfriend, there wasn’t much to lose since we hadn’t made it legal, hadn’t dropped thousands of dollars on a wedding ceremony and reception, posed for professional photographs, and began accruing debt together. It seemed a strange way of looking at it, but I was happy watching them fuck and having them watch us, so I smiled and nodded. As far as I was concerned, things were perfect.

II. Maybe Things Weren’t So Perfect After All

I was well aware that Danny wanted to have sex with my girlfriend. Most guys did. Either one-on-one, or in the context of a threesome with his wife (despite the fact that she’s always claimed vehemently that she wasn’t attracted to women and certainly wouldn’t have agreed to it), he made no secret of wanting to suck her 36C breasts, have her suck his cock, fuck her doggy-style over the back of the couch while cupping her breasts from behind, then pull out and come in her mouth. It came up so often that some thirteen years later I still remember the details of this, his most prominent fantasy about her. My girlfriend was flattered, and I didn’t mind the idle fantasizing. Joan, however, definitely would have.

Though I wasn’t aware of any specifics beyond Danny’s frequenting of strip clubs and the like, it was apparent that she had jealousy issues, likely related at least in part to body image. At the time, I found this strange; she was never particularly out of shape or unattractive. Now, though, I realize that there’s no way of knowing what’s in someone’s head – or what’s in their heart – and thus no means of determining what unrealistic standard they’re determined to reach.

In retrospect, this might have been an indication that we shouldn’t have been playing with them at all. My relationship with my girlfriend, though not without the occasional instance of minor-league drama, was definitely on more secure footing than theirs. When my friend and her husband temporarily separated some years later, I know Danny tried to get in touch with my girlfriend – by then my ex – with the intention of getting laid. And once they’d had sex, he hoped to resume having monogamous group sex with her, Jill, and myself. Anyway, they never did end up getting together.

III. Joan Gets Separated

A year or so after the same-room sex stopped for good, Joan was pregnant. I was happy for them; they were good friends, and it seemed like this was what they’d been leading toward, as all relatively newly-married couples seem to be conditioned to procreate and continue the cycle. Perhaps the monogamous group sex we’d shared was simply them exorcising the last of their wild and crazy demons before settling down. I don’t mean for it to sound like I was upset or bitter over the cessation of what we were doing. It was necessary as I’d broken up with my girlfriend and I was sensible enough to know that they weren’t going to invite me into their bedroom to watch and jerk off. Nothing lasts forever.

During the aforementioned separation, Danny would occasionally message Jill – or vice versa – hoping for some dirty talk leading to orgasm. It was not unusual for Jill to receive an email or an instant message detailing a sex dream he’d had the night before, or a fantasy he was currently entertaining. Such fantasies were not unlike the ones he’d had of my ex-girlfriend, though he appeared to have a broader range of fantasies starring Jill including but not limited to quick, nasty rough sex, and various forms of group sex as well. On occasion they masturbated together while IMing dirty, sometimes while he was at home and other times while locked safely in his office at work. He expressed an interest in watching Jill and I have sex, and if we were all comfortable taking it further, joining us for a threesome. While Jill was flattered and aroused by his interest she wasn’t ready to cross that line; this was seven or eight years ago and she wasn’t sure whether such things were better left a fantasy. Of course, Jill and I have no secrets from each other; needless to say she kept me apprised of their interactions. I can’t say for sure, but I think I still have transcripts from some of their chats.

At around the same time, Joan began to express some measure of sexual interest in me for the first time. It was much more overt than I’d ever expected. This wasn’t let’s-fuck-our-respective-partners-in-the-same-bed. This was far more demonstrative and explicit than that. This was a woman who, out from under the watchful eye of her husband, felt free to own her sexuality. The “like a brother” block was suddenly nonexistent; she shared every fantasy she was currently entertaining about me (or ever had entertained), and it turned out she was a lot more sexually openminded than I could ever have guessed. It was exciting for me, as I had long wished for this kind of interaction with her, and knowing that she found me sexually attractive was gratifying even though I didn’t suspect I’d ever actually have sex with her. (Spoiler: I never did.)

Moreover, it lent creedence to the above-stated theory that her stilted, awkward body language was just a means of hiding her attraction to me. Suddenly I began to see many of our interactions over the past several years in a different light. Though I knew she was bound to some extent by her own boundaries and notions of what was proper and what was not, I wondered if she would have wanted to swap partners while we were having same-room sex years before. As I knew she harbored fantasies of threesomes with two men, I wondered if she would have been open to me as a third. It was a moot point; those days were long since over, and despite his interest in having a threesome with Jill and I, I doubted Danny would have been into sharing his own wife.

Over a period of a year or more, Joan and I didn’t often see each other socially, but we conversed frequently via instant messenger. Dirty talk wasn’t uncommon, and video chatting via Skype did occur. Though I found it fun and exciting – it was, after all, the culmination of many years of pent-up lust – I got the disctinct sense that she felt shame and guilt, or at the very least hesitation, like she couldn’t believe she had to stoop to flirting with me in order to feel desired. Her heart wasn’t in it, or perhaps she just wasn’t all that good at it. Either way, I suspected that though she seemed excited and usually engaged when it was happening, afterwards she might have felt lousy about having done it. Still, it went on for quite awhile. She never sent a sexy photo or took off her clothes while Skyping. In fact, she didn’t even have the lights on, which afforded me at best a view of her glasses as the light from her laptop reflected off of them. This furthered my suspicion that she had a deep-rooted lack of self-esteem. She enjoyed it when I told her that I found her attractive and sexy, but she wasn’t about to let me see her naked lest my feelings changed.

She watched Jill and I have sex via Skype at least once, though she didn’t do anything beyond study our performance the way one might watch a moderately-entertaining spectacle. Jill and I were having fun regardless, but a little more interaction would have been nice. Throughout, she was hesitant to offer any feedback, as though too embarrassed to admit that she was enjoying the show. Some time later, she invited us over to the apartment she shared with her five-year-old daughter and a roommate who happened to be out of town, hinting that she’d like to watch us have sex in person. When we got there, she attempted to ply us with beer and wine in order to lower our inhibitions. While we enjoyed drinking at her house, Jill and I ultimately decided not to fuck there, as it would have felt weird doing so with her daughter asleep in the next room. Nowadays, as the parents of a young daughter ourselves, we might go along with it. We know better about what to expect with a sleeping child in the house. After all, we frequently have sex with our daughter asleep in the next room. Back then, though, it felt weird.

Shortly after Jill and I found out that we were expecting, Danny came over to watch us. Knowing that we were going to have sex – and perhaps more – he brought over a bottle of wine. Since Jill couldn’t imbibe, we had to let him know of her pregnancy weeks before we told most of our friends. Hey, guess what, everybody? We don’t need alcohol to get us in the mood. We’re always like this. Obviously booze doesn’t impede our arousal or raise our inhibitions, but it makes you look a bit like a date rapist trying to get us drunk in order to see the goods. Just, you know, a word of friendly advice.

Anyway, Jill and I had sex, and we put on our usual amazing performance. But like his wife, our spectator just stood there and watched with all the enthusiasm of a judge on The Gong Show. Afterwards he said he enjoyed the show, but while it was happening there wasn’t much in the way of positive feedback: No verbal encouragement, and no touching his erection through his pants (if he even had one), so obviously he wasn’t about to get naked and join in. I don’t know if he just wasn’t sure what our boundaries were and didn’t think to ask – the same thing happened to me during a similar experience – but while he and Jill were communicating regularly it was made clear that she’d be okay with a little fooling around, likely some oral sex if not actual penetration. And while we appreciated his cautious respect, we were both surprised by his restraint.

IV. Wherein Joan and Danny Try it Again

Eventually they got back together, quietly and without any major fanfare or proclamation on social media. And I won’t lie, I kind of missed our flirting and Skyping. Even though she wasn’t the most dynamic flirting partner I’d ever had, I enjoyed having a friendship with her that could turn sexual at the drop of a hat, and in fact usually was sexual. But more than anything, I enjoyed the total honesty and refreshing lack of bullshit while it lasted. Once she and her husband got back together the familiar frostiness set in and it was business as usual: Awkward stiltedness, with any communication between her and I polite but not at all familiar. You know, just like siblings!

As always, I never felt entitled to more. First off, despite his dalliances during the separation, I was sure that her husband wouldn’t have approved of hers with me, and even if he had, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted them to continue now that they were back together. To suggest that she should have maintained our connection for my sake – or even for hers – now that they were trying to patch things up would have been the epitome of privileged white male shitheadedness. No worries there, because everything stopped abruptly. It’s just as well, as I had a baby to focus on pretty much around the clock. Honestly, the timing worked out pretty well.

Since then, our interactions have been limited to social functions, such as our daughter’s birthday parties. Even then, Jill gets a hug while I’m lucky if I get a mumbled hello. Online interactions are usually limited to her messaging me to ask what size our daughter wears, generally just prior to said parties. Not much small talk, either; our instant messenger conversations are in some ways just as awkward and abrupt as our face-to-face conversations. So, more or less the same as it was before. Until earlier this month, that is.

Coming up next: Part 3 (Events of the last month or so)