Empty nest couples have fun

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-21 05:05:50

Since our child went to university on the West Coast, my wife and I suddenly became empty nesters. Aside from work
, we didn't know how to fill our time. Friends said we were in our prime, full of energy,
experiencing a second spring in our lives. It sounded reasonable, but twenty years had turned our marriage into a monotonous
routine of going to work, coming home, and dealing with the mundane details of daily life. Even trips seemed to bring only fleeting moments
and the weariness of the journey. Life lacked novelty; where could we find spring?

Bored, I browsed the internet and saw a tabloid news article on a Chinese website about a couple in China
who had engaged in wife-swapping, resulting in the breakdown of their family. I skimmed over it, not paying much attention. A few weeks later, while on a business trip,
lying alone in bed, I felt restless. My hand unconsciously gripped my erect penis and
slowly began to stroke it, my mind drifting to the pornographic content I'd seen online. Without realizing it, my thoughts drifted back to the wife
-swapping news article, my heart suddenly raced, and my penis seemed to have grown even larger. My hands moved faster, and images
flashed before my eyes of two naked adult men and women exchanging partners. The two wives' legs were spread wide,
revealing their clefts; their dark pubic hair was damp from sex, and their pink flesh exuded allure. The two husbands
constantly changed positions, withdrawing their penises, dripping with vaginal fluid, from one vagina to the other, which had just been violated
. I lost track of time, only feeling the tingling sensation on my penis intensifying, constantly approaching
its limit. I ejaculated, a continuous stream, as if all the fluid in my body was shooting out at high speed along my urethra, forming
torrents of pleasure. That night, I slept soundly.

This experience opened Pandora's box. I started searching online for anything about wife-swapping, and
thus discovered many related websites, some in English and some in Chinese. I became a regular on these websites, and
my knowledge grew rapidly. I began to consider two questions: Should I really try wife-swapping? How should I
tell my wife? Fantasizing is one thing, but actually putting it into practice, with my wife being fucked by another man—can I
accept ? I'd never thought about this before, and now I'm not sure. On one hand, it's hard to accept,
but on the other hand, I seem to feel a fleeting excitement. I already know from websites that wife-swapping and cuckoldry
are hard to distinguish, and I know some men are willing to be cuckolds. But when it comes to myself, it's
psychologically hard to accept.

There are many sayings in Chinese, like "a teacher for a single word," or "a meeting of minds."
The first problem I encountered with wife-swapping was solved by a comment from a netizen. Although I haven't
mentioned it to my wife yet, it's inevitable for men to fantasize. I met a fellow enthusiast on a Chinese couples' website;
let's call him SS. He lives only two hours away, is about my age, and his wife is ten years younger than him.

SS also wants to swap wives, and he says his wife has already agreed. Once, during an online chat, I asked him if he would be jealous if we actually
swapped . He answered decisively, "No." I asked why. He said, "
The most exciting part of wife-swapping isn't fucking someone else's wife, but watching your own wife being fucked by someone else." Looking at
cuckoldry posts online only provides dry information. When a real man openly tells me he craves someone else
fucking his wife, the psychological impact is deafening, resonating directly with a deep chord within me
. I think gay people probably feel something similar when they first meet another gay man.

After that conversation, my mindset changed, and my self-analysis became more objective. I feel
there are roughly two types of men who engage in wife-swapping. One type completely disregards their own wives but wants to comfortably sleep with
other men's wives. The other type is interested in other women while also having a cuckoldry complex. If I were to engage in wife-swapping, I
would definitely prefer to date the second type of man. A man who doesn't care about his own woman won't care much about other men's women either
. I can't tolerate my wife being merely someone else's plaything. Not to mention, after S's "enlightenment,"
I've also categorized myself as a man with a cuckoldry complex. Birds of a feather flock together, right?

After resolving my wife's anxieties about sleeping with other men, the next challenge was getting her to agree to wife-swapping.

S's experience was to be straightforward. Of course, I didn't want to resort to tricks, but I worried about causing
misunderstandings .

After nearly two months of hesitation, this problem was surprisingly solved naturally.

One afternoon, I saw a novel on a Chinese couples' website, and the plot, especially
the psychological descriptions of the participants, aroused my desire. When my wife came home from work, I pulled her directly
to encounter, I released the pent
-up desire of the past few hours, leaving my wife moaning and panting. After things calmed down, my wife asked, "
What happened today?" I hesitated slightly and said I read an erotic novel online.

"What kind of erotic novel is so effective? Isn't this going to put Viagra sellers out of work?" My wife, probably
satisfied with the ample pleasure, was relaxed and chuckled, joking with me. Instinctively, I felt this
was an opportunity. I got up, grabbed the computer, and found the story. "This is the story. You can read it now, I'll
go make dinner," I said. "You worked hard just now, I'll go make dinner. We'll read it again tonight," my wife's sense of humor
hadn't faded. She smiled as she put the clothes I had just pulled off back on, one by one.

That night, I worked in the study until after 10 p.m. When I returned to the bedroom, my wife was already asleep. I
noticed the computer I had been using to read the erotic story was on the bedside table next to her. I went to the bathroom to shower,
then slipped naked under the covers and embraced my equally naked wife from behind. One hand grasped her full breasts,
while the other hand kneaded her soft buttocks, slowly sliding down her buttocks until my fingers touched her moist vulva. I inserted
two into her slippery vagina, pressing my thumb against her anus, eliciting a few moans from my wife.

My penis was already hard as a steel rod, pressing straight against my wife's thigh. She reached out and grasped my penis,
placing her thumb on the glans and slowly sliding it around it with the lubrication I produced. The stimulation was so intense that
I impatiently spread her legs, thrusting forward and aiming my penis at her vulva,
skillfully plunging it in all the way. My wife cooperated by arching her buttocks back, her upper thigh resting on mine, her hips
moving back and forth to meet my thrusts. I used my free hand to massage and squeeze her clitoris, while my other hand...
Our hands moved down, lubricating her anus with the fluids from our intercourse, then
we inserted her rectum. She cried out and quickened her thrusting. I responded by increasing my pace. A few minutes
later, she screamed as she reached orgasm, her vagina contracting spasmodically. I ejaculated, seemingly
rediscovering the intense sensation I felt when we first made love.

"Does it excite you so much that other people swap wives?" she asked suddenly, nestled softly against my
chest . I didn't know how to respond, only gently stroking her smooth back. "Do you
want to do what happens in stories too?" she continued. "Yes," I replied. In that instant, many
thoughts to flash through my mind, yet my brain also seemed completely blank.

After a long silence, I heard her voice again: "Do you love me?" My first thought was, "
Oh no." My hesitation stemmed from the fear that she would misunderstand and cause a rift in our marriage. I
did want to swap wives, but I also cherished our marriage and didn't want to hurt her. Strangely, at this
moment , instead of feeling overwhelmed, I suddenly felt incredibly calm. "I
love you. I love you so much. It's not just sweet talk, it's real love," I said. It was the truth; I had a clear conscience.

"If you love me, would you really let other men have sex with me?" my wife asked, her voice still soft, which gave me
a renewed sense of confidence. "I can't really explain all my feelings. What I can say for sure is that I hope we
can try some new sexual experiences together in our lifetime, adding more spice to our lives."

"Aren't you afraid I'll cheat on you?" This question hit the nail on the head, and I quickly decided to be basically
honest: "I hope you'll cheat on me. If you can try and enjoy more new and exciting
sex with me, I'll be very excited." I said "basically honest" because I admitted I wanted to be cheated on,
but I didn't mention that being cheated on was inherently exciting. It wasn't that I intentionally deceived my wife, but rather that I wasn't
sure how she would react to her husband's desire to be cheated on. At this stage, I didn't want her to look down on
me. Men, after all, all have a sense of pride that they consider important.

Since I'd told my wife everything I wanted to say, I felt I'd done my best in this matter. We
remained naked, nestled together, breathing calmly, without uttering a word. I was almost asleep when
my wife reached out and hugged me, saying, "This wife-swapping story is quite good; I got wet too. Did you notice?"

I nodded. "I know you've recently become interested in wife-swapping. Once, I used your computer to browse the internet
and happened to see the websites you were browsing," she said.

Although I hadn't expected my wife to have already noticed, I wasn't surprised. After all, I never intended to
hide it ; I just didn't know how to bring it up. As I thought this, I listened to my wife continue,
"Many people probably have fantasies about sexual indulgence, including me. If it were up to me, I'd rather
keep such indulgence to just fantasies and live a peaceful life with you. It's better to avoid trouble, right?"

my wife said. I didn't respond, unsure how her words would end.

“But,” she said, “I’m not alone. We’re a family, and your happiness is my happiness.

If you really want to play wife-swapping, I’ll go along with it.” Happiness came too quickly, somewhat unexpectedly. Before
I could respond, my wife added, “But we have to agree on three rules. First, you’ll find suitable
partners , but you have to consider my opinion when making the final decision.” “For me, that’s not a problem at all.”
That was for sure. How could I bear to let my precious wife date men she doesn’t like? My wife’s
men must be the best. “I said. My wife pinched me, “Sweet talk, you’re up to no good! Second,
you can’t change your mind about me after you’ve slept with other men’s wives.” I reached out and hugged my wife tightly, kissing her forehead, “
I promise. For me, wife-swapping is the spice of our marriage. Other men’s wives are just
participants .

Every participant deserves respect, but ultimately it’s just a game. We can be friends, but absolutely
no feelings can be mixed in.” “Third, you can’t stop loving me just because I’ve slept with other men.” " If that's the case, I
'll cut this off for you," my wife said, squeezing my penis. Her words were bloody,
yet her tone remained calm.

At that moment, I had two feelings. First, after so many years of living together, my wife still
trusted me. This comforted and relieved me. The biggest taboo in wife-swapping is one party being suspicious. My

second thought was to take this opportunity to clarify my cuckoldry mentality. Ultimately, I didn't want to
hide anything from my wife. I wanted us to communicate openly. "Wife,
I'm truly grateful that you agreed to try it with me. If we can find suitable partners, and you've been fucked by other men, I'll love you and
cherish you even more," I said. "How could that be?" she asked. "Women have vaginas to be fucked by men. If other
men want to fuck you, it means you're sexy and feminine. After being fucked by others, you'll become even sexier and more feminine
,"

I said, running my hand over several of her sensitive areas.

My wife wasn't as conservative as I'd initially feared. Coupled with verbal and physical stimulation, her
breathing quickened. "So, who do you want to fuck me?" she asked, guiding my now-erect penis towards
her vagina. I thrust in, pumping as I whispered in her ear, "That depends on which
married men are lucky enough to fuck my beautiful wife. These men must not only be
excellent in every way, but also know how to cherish you and make you feel incredibly good. I love watching you comfortably
cuckold me." I panted as I thrust rapidly, waves of tingling pleasure spreading throughout my body.

Having obtained my permission from my wife, my first target was the S couple. I was grateful to S,
because his frankness had been enlightening. "My wife agreed!!!" I messaged S.

"Congratulations! What's next?" S replied. "We have no experience. Do you have any suggestions
?"

I asked. "Would you like us to meet?" S suggested. Before I could respond, S
added , "Why don't we meet first? Consider it a blind date for the ladies." That's a good idea; it shows a degree of caution.
It also took into account that his wife might feel uncomfortable participating for the first time. A husband choosing a man for his wife had
a strangely lewd flavor. My mind and body began to stir. S and I discussed some
details , including having lunch at a fast-food restaurant between our two cities on the weekend.

Before going to bed that night, I told my wife about the arrangement while kneading her nipples. "I
'll go on a blind date for you this weekend," I said with a grin. "Don't forget, getting past you isn't enough, you also have to get past me
," my wife said, half-jokingly and half-seriously. "Of course. I'm just doing
the initial selection for finding a male consort for Your Majesty; the final decision is made by Your Majesty," I said with a grin. "Fine, you think I'm too old!" My wife
rolled over and straddled me, aiming her wet vagina at my mouth. "Serve the Empress Dowager well, and I'll spare your life."

After bringing my wife to orgasm, I rolled over and pressed myself against her, guiding my hard penis into her flowing vagina.

After a while of thrusting, I remembered another detail I'd agreed on with S. "S suggested we both bring
photos of our wives, a few casual photos, and... one or two photos of our wives' private parts," I said, a little unsure how my
wife would react. Deep down, especially after accepting my own cuckoldry, letting another
man see photos of my wife's genitals was a wickedly tempting thing; just thinking about it made my
body react. But I wasn't sure about my wife's attitude, so I didn't give S a definite promise at the time.

My wife bent her legs and wrapped them around my thighs, her lower body naturally moving to meet my thrusts, slightly
out of breath , she said, "You men are all perverts." I heard approval in her response,
and I thrust even harder, putting my mouth close to my wife's ear, "Your cunt might be fucked by him anyway,
what's so perverted about looking at a few photos?" As these words left her lips, my semen shot into my wife's body again and again.

At 11:30 a.m. on Sunday, I walked into the fast food restaurant where we had agreed to meet. Perhaps it was still early, there were few
customers . I spotted S immediately, as he was the only Asian face. I walked over, shook his hand, and sat down,
and we unconsciously sized each other up. S was of medium height and build, and reasonably good-looking. I
felt a slight disappointment, vaguely sensing that my wife's first extramarital affair man should have been more "outstanding,"
though I couldn't quite define what that meant.

Suppressing this feeling, I smiled at S and said, "Since there aren't many customers now, shall we go buy
lunch?" S agreed, stood up, and said he'd go buy it, leaving me to wait at my seat. "Let's go together," I said. We
ate while discussing topics completely unrelated to wife-swapping, such as where our children went to school and
how busy we were at work. After swallowing the last bite of lunch, S suddenly said he'd left his photo in
his car and asked if I wanted to go see it. "Okay, I'll go get mine too," I said, and we walked out of the fast-food restaurant together.

S's car was an SUV, quite spacious inside, with tinted windows that obscured
the view from the outside. S sat in the back seat and gestured for me to get in too. We closed the car door and each turned on
our laptops. After a few clicks, the screens were filled with photos of the wives. S's first words were, "Wow,
your wife is so beautiful!" I smiled, glancing at his screen. S's wife had an oval face and single
eyelids; her features weren't conventionally beautiful, but she was quite pretty. S and I opened the photos one by one, praising each other's wives' figures and
looks. For some reason, I felt a little distracted. "This is my wife's pussy," S suddenly said, as the screen
filled with a picture of a vulva.

It was a shaved vulva; because it was a close-up, the stubble remaining under the skin was clearly visible.

The lighting wasn't great when the photo was taken, making the whole picture look somewhat dark. The two dark labia minora were slightly parted, and
the clitoris at the tip of the labia minora was smooth and round. S pointed to the clitoris with his finger. "My wife's clitoris is incredibly sensitive.

Just a few rubs here, and she'll become a slut. She'll do whatever you want her to do." My gaze
shifted to Mrs. S's labia majora. From the photo, her labia majora were just soft skin on either side of the vulva cleft,
darker in color than the labia minora, with sparse pubic hair.

"You can look at it slowly later," S said, opening the next photo. The camera was clearly shooting from between Mrs. S's
spread legs, with the vulva closest to the lens. The thighs on both sides were very full, and above the vulva was
the shaved pubic area. In the distance were two breasts and an unfocused face. In this internet age, every
lustful man has seen hundreds of photos of vulvas of various shapes and colors, and to some extent, has developed
immunity. Compared to the photos online, the scene on the screen in front of me had no special features. But
the owner wasn't some nameless woman somewhere in the world who had no connection to me; it was the wife of the man beside me. And
she knew I would see her vulva photos, and that she herself might be raped naked by me. My
penis instantly hardened.

"Your wife's vagina is really sexy," I mumbled, clicking on the last few
photos I'd brought. "My wife's. Click this arrow to see the next one." I placed the laptop in front of S's legs. S
stared intently at the screen, occasionally clicking the keyboard, flipping through several
photos of my wife's vulva from different angles. "Your wife's vagina is so exquisite," he said. Exquisite? I'd never thought of using
that word to describe my wife's genitals, but I immediately understood what S meant. My wife had thick pubic hair, all
concentrated around her pubic bone. Her labia majora were full, truly forming two fleshy lips, the skin almost
as white as the tender flesh of her inner thighs, and smooth and hairless. Between the labia majora, which protrude like two small sand dunes
, are narrow, delicate, and pink labia minora. In the photos, they are either slightly parted, like a pair of
tender leaves ; or they swell to the sides, revealing the pink urethral opening and the wet vaginal opening, displaying
desire during arousal. I wonder how my wife would react if she heard S's comments, and my penis gets even harder.

"Can I see your penis?" S's voice rang out. I paused for a few seconds, then understood his
intention . "Let's both take our penises out. It's for the wives to meet," I said, unzipping my pants
, and S also put his right hand into his pants. For a few seconds, the scene in the car was very strange: two men hiding in
an enclosed space, displaying their genitals to each other. "Anyone who sees this will think we're gay,"

I thought, my gaze involuntarily turning to S's lower body.

This was the first adult man's penis I'd ever seen in my life, other than mine. It was dark red, hard and
erect, the foreskin partially covering the glans, and a single, glistening drop of fluid slowly trickling from the urethra. Anyone familiar with wife-swapping
websites knows that husbands in this circle often desire large penises for their wives. Over time, I'd come to accept this taste
myself . But S disappointed me; the thing he pulled out of his pants was clearly
smaller than mine. At that moment, I understood how I felt when I first met S. Physically, I thought S wasn't good enough
for my wife, but subconsciously, I hadn't given up, hoping he had a strong tool to
bring her more physical stimulation and pleasure. Now, it seemed S couldn't meet my requirements. I glanced again at S
's wife's photos, then put my softening penis back into my pants.

S remained engrossed, turning his gaze away from my crotch, one hand on the keyboard continuing to look at my wife
's photos, the other slowly stroking his own penis. I had completely lost interest, but out of
politeness , I watched S entertain himself in silence. A few minutes later, he stuffed his penis into his pants. I smiled at S
and said, "We've already set up the wives for the dates, now it's up to the ladies to decide. Glad
we met." After S said a few similar things,
the first step on the road to wife-swapping came to an end. Before leaving, I instinctively wanted to shake hands with S, but remembering that his hand had just touched his
penis, I stopped myself and waved goodbye.

That night before going to sleep, my wife asked me, "You seem a bit down. What's wrong?" I skipped
the details of looking at the photos and described the overall situation of S and his wife. "I don't think S is good enough for you… and his penis
is a bit small, it's unlikely to make you feel good," I said. After a minute or two of silence, my wife turned to face
me and said, "If you think his wife is alright, I'm willing to go along with it." With a wife like this, what more could a husband ask for? At
that moment, I suddenly understood the meaning of this old saying.

I hugged my wife and kissed her full lips. "I've said before, my wife's man
must be outstanding. If he doesn't meet that standard, I'd rather not switch," I said. My wife reached out and grasped my penis.
"Then what are you going to tell S?" "I want to tell S that you hesitated at the last minute, so we
can't switch with them right now." I paused for a few seconds, then added, "I think this will avoid hurting S's
feelings." "I'll listen to you," my wife said, turning around and pressing her smooth back tightly against my chest.

The next day, I left a message for S online and apologized. S said he completely understood and that his wife was
very satisfied with my situation, so if my wife really didn't want to participate, I could go to his house and play with his wife. I
felt even more guilty towards S, so I thanked him for his sincere invitation but emphasized that this game
required the participation of both husband and wife. Besides expressing my regret, I sincerely hoped they could find more suitable
partners .

The first attempt was unsuccessful, and I was unwilling to give up, but my luck didn't improve afterward. Some couples
thought we were too old, some were too different from my expectations, and many others were difficult to communicate with. For example, one
netizen claimed to be a middle-aged couple, and his self-description was quite good. But after a few sentences, he asked if he could see
a picture of my wife. I said that for safety reasons, we never upload our own photos. He then started hurling insults,
calling me a liar, incompetent at finding women, and trying to take advantage of others. Perhaps he had been deceived before. But
being unfairly labeled like that made me feel nauseous for days afterward.

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