Chapter 21, A Swinger’s Party Innuendo
The news media, movies, TV programs
even education in the 1970’s centered on sex to catch up for its past
suppression. Sex wasn’t just for procreation. Sex was for pleasure, casual fun
like chewing gum. It was free love; sex on demand, whatever floats your
boat. With “the pill” procreation became
an afterthought, something put off until later in life. Why get married after
Married with kids we were limited to
observer status, stuck on shore having missed the free love boat.
Tired of taking “the pill”, after
too much wine on 1975 New Year's Eve, with kids tucked away and midnight kisses,
I broached the idea of hubby getting "fixed" for the post-midnight
finish. His inebriated answer as he slid in was.
“If I’m fixed we’re going swinging”.
There it was proposed sex with others
as we rang in the New Year. He had joked about swinging before but now was
serious, even if tipsy.
Having sex with others was a turn on
fantasy for both of us, but for me, not by swinging. The idea of anonymous sex was unappealing. I
didn’t want to be a group grope toy. The concept of couples meeting for casual
sex was something a male would dream up.
On the marriage bed I’d titillated
myself imagining sex with actors, men flirted with, the San Francisco belly
dance patron, even Joe Montana the Sf 49er quarterback. Only he got me to watch
football on TV while I prepared snacks and drinks for the guys. On occasion I
led hubby, post-game once the gang left, to bed and joked about his donning a
49’er football helmet.
With his suggestion and implied acquiescence I was ready to see what I was missing, for me, not for him. While he may not be jealous, I still was, even in my fantasies.
After New Year’s he failed to bring the subject back up, embarrassed of his drinking admission. To renew the conversation I related a girl at work swinging story, true but elaborated on to spur him on. Through alluded encouragements and subtle hints his swinging fantasy grew to open acceptance of it occurring once he was “fixed”. He then announced he made the appointment.
His decision to get
"fixed" was an open admission we would try swinging to which I gave
guarded consent. My possibly getting pregnant wasn’t discussed. Why his having
a vasectomy justified our swinging was irrational but accepted by us both. It
was the go past go Chance card. If he did it, swinging followed.
After recovery from his snipping,
which he referred to as “chop chop”, he overtly planned swinging, part of the
post op schedule. His 2 little testicle scars were our visas to the love boat.
During his recovery I questioned swinging due him being jealous and not capable of allowing me to have sex with another. In response he rationalized swinging would help me have more sexual experience since I was limited to only him. My being a virgin bride, an ideal status he ensured before marriage, now a flaw. Everyone else in the 70's had more sexual experience than me as if I had a defect. I conceded to needing more experience but harped he could not cope with jealousy. He needed to prove otherwise. I needed his assurance to proceed.