The Life of a Swinger: Episode 40

The Life of a Swinger: Episode 40

Episode 40: Colorado Bound

The fortieth installment of my misremembered memoirs features more stories of my '80s sexual escapades. Each part is self-contained; you can read them without needing to go over previous episodes.

This tale takes place in America and is one of several set there. In this particular installment, the lovebirds Steven and Lesley go on vacation, finding themselves with unforeseen opportunities.

Enjoy the story.

By June, the situation with Iris had become highly exciting. The interest in our battlefield communications system from multiple European nations was undeniable. Although the demonstrations had been a success, it turned out the decision-making processes took much longer than expected. After all, this was about utilizing taxpayers' money. However, it was quite irritating for a more personal perspective.

We faced difficulties selling Iris to the Americans as well. They had been keen to witness the technology's demonstration, but their enthusiasm stemmed more from curiosity rather than the intention to buy. I spoke with Sir Hilliary at Blackfinch regarding this, and he confirmed the mistrust of each other's military technology between the United States and Europe. Additionally, Obermann Consultancy was thriving and gaining traction. We were asked to increase our team size in Munich, taking some weight off Uwe's shoulders. His new responsibility was now overseeing people, evolving from talented nomad to leader of a team of consultants in under 7 months, a clear testament of his value. If it hadn't been for Suzy, Uwe might not have gone down this path. Although they couldn't freely pursue their union due to the terms of his inheritance, their lives were moving forward.

My new hire, Tom Pemberton, the son of another Durolitum director, Charles, was gaining traction on the New Investments side of Durolitum. Meanwhile, as I contributed to developing business perspectives, I realized the value of Tom's expertise. Moreover, Charles was anxious to see his son achieve success. Unfortunately, I rarely saw Sam at work as he worked for me only on two days each week. We missed his presence. During a weekend in early June, we helped the couple with their comic store while he and Carly were occupied, leaving the women to manage the shop alone. Sam and I snuck away for a pint during lunchtime.

It was then that Sam confided in me his desire to relocate the store to a busier area, a prime location near Covent Garden. The rent was high, and the property needed a substantial makeover, a risky venture in my opinion. I understood his rationale, as it could draw in a broader clientele. However, he hadn't managed to secure the funds for this massive undertaking so far.

"I've saved a portion of my consulting income," Sam mentioned. "I'm attempting to secure a business loan from the bank to cover the rest."

"What about Carly?" I inquired.

"She's anxious," Sam revealed. "But she's given me permission to go ahead if I so choose."

"Why not work for Durolitum full-time? It would provide you with sufficient funds," I suggested.

"It would take too long," Sam responded. "I'll never come across such a splendid opportunity again."

"How much do you require?"

"About forty thousand pounds."

I hadn't deemed it would be that much; it seemed the expenses for a shop in Covent Garden were noticeably high.

"If that's your wish, I wish you the best of luck. If Lesley and I can assist in any way, just ask," I told him.

"Thank you."

In hindsight, I underestimated Sam's requirements, as the costs associated with a shop in Covent Garden were undeniably extensive.

Lesley was battling issues at work. Her bosses tried to push her into taking her summer vacation all at once, not split between June and August. Ultimately, they couldn't force her this year. She had followed company guidelines carefully, but things didn't seem promising for the future. She wasn't as excited about her job as she used to be. There were rumors of restructuring and layoffs, and while her salary wasn't essential for our lifestyle, it was troubling for her and her coworkers.

She still couldn't be dissuaded from visiting Paul and Astrid Walmsley in Colorado in June. If anything, her anticipation was stronger. Since meeting them in New York with Daniel the year prior, Lesley had been eager to see them again.

Astrid was a well-known model in the 70s, and Paul, a friend of Daniel's and CEO of a prominent US investment bank. Lesley had brief encounters with Astrid, but it was nothing significant and it didn't appear sufficient to warrant a week at the Walmsleys' ranch. However, Lesley was adamant, and Astrid seemed equally enthusiastic. I didn't know what Paul Walmsley thought.

I recommended to Lesley that we rent a motorcycle to explore the Rockies simultaneously. This would be advantageous because we both enjoyed motorcycles, but a car would've been more practical with luggage.

In June, we boarded a flight to Denver, each carrying only a small carry-on bag.

Our flight was scheduled to depart Heathrow at noon on a Wednesday. I collected enough miles for an upgrade to business class for myself, and I purchased Lesley's business class ticket. When Lesley went to New York with Daniel, they flew first class on Concorde. I couldn't match that, but I didn't have to. We would've been just as content in economy, as long as we were together.

To my surprise, we got an unexpected upgrade before boarding.

"The flight is overbooked, Mr. Carter..." the flight attendant informed me.

I was worried they'd remove us simply because I got an upgrade with miles.

"... So, to free up seats in business class, we'd like to offer you and your wife an upgrade to first-class."

Lesley clutched my hand tightly.

"We're very grateful," she said on our behalf.

I assume I'd made multiple trips to Germany, warranting my inclusion on the airline's frequent traveler list. If they hoped to ensure my future bookings with them, they succeeded.

I'd never experienced first-class before. In fact, all my prior travel had been short-haul, where first-class was irrelevant. The 747 we boarded was significantly larger than planes I'd flown in earlier, and the cabin was far fancier than anything I'd been accustomed to. The ten-hour flight was luxurious, with complimentary champagne and delicious food. It was pleasant to have so many hours alone, and looking back, I can barely believe how much we spoke. Lesley led our conversations, but I was satisfied just to listen and offer my input when necessary.

The flight was direct, and upon landing in Denver, it was early evening. Customs took a while, but, with just hand luggage, we quickly made it through. The motorcycle rental firm said they'd collect us from the airport. A young man with a ponytail, sporting a sign with our names, greeted us at 'Arrivals.'

"Welcome to Denver," he said when we introduced ourselves. "I'm Mike."

Mike drove us in a van to one of the Harley Davidson dealerships in Denver. After completing paperwork, we acquired our bike, which resembled my own Harley back in London. It felt familiar and reassuring. We also bought two open-face helmets from the dealership. We could only find full-face helmets at home, and due to the exchange rate, helmets were cheaper to purchase in the US.

We decided to wear helmets while riding our bicycle in Colorado, despite it not being mandatory. Not all the helmets in the store seemed sturdy enough, so we chose open-face, three quarter ones that seemed safer if we fell off. However, we didn't think about wearing glasses with open-face helmets and had to purchase those too.

Navigating on a bike is much harder than in a car when you're unfamiliar with the area. We booked a room at the Marriott in Downtown Denver and had to repeatedly check the map to find our way there. Once we did, we parked our bike and checked in, even though we were exhausted. We went out for a slice of pizza, had a beer in our room, and went to sleep around 10 p.m.

The next morning, the Rocky Mountains were visible from our hotel room, and I was excited to ride my bicycle. Lesley wanted to spend time together, so she suggested having romantic moments before starting the journey. I was attracted to her petite figure, fair skin, and ginger hair when we first met. After several years of daily exercise, she now looked even better.

"How did I get so lucky?" I asked her.

She responded, "I'm the lucky one, Steven. I can't imagine my life without you."

Lesley held me close, and I told her how much I loved her. We went down for breakfast and noticed the hotel was mostly occupied by business travelers who had appointments. To acclimate to the new altitude, we took the stairs instead of the elevator. Reaching our room out of breath, it became clear that the altitude affected us more than we expected.

We packed our belongings onto the bike and left the city, soon climbing high into the mountains. The scenery was impressive, but the mountains felt different from those in the Alps and didn't have the same lush greenness as those in France or Germany. We took breaks for gas and food whenever we needed, as the sun was warm but the altitude kept the temperatures down.

We reached a crossroads just short of Snowmass, which is near Aspen, after six hours of riding. At a gas station, we filled our tank and purchased a local map. We then tried translating Astrid's handwritten directions to the map. We followed the creek until we encountered a sign that read "Stables/Livery" and turned onto a gravel road.

When we reached a fork, I couldn't decide which way to go, so Lesley instructed me to follow the creek. Suddenly, we emerged from the wood, and there stood her former friend's house. It was a huge stone and timber building situated in a clearing amongst the Aspen trees. The house was just as you'd imagine a banker's mountain ranch would look like.

We parked our bike near the giant oak front door, and by the time we removed our helmets, Astrid had come to greet us. With her tall frame, slender body, and blonde hair, she looked exactly like how she did in the pictures I'd seen in magazines. Although her face had aged a bit, her Scandinavian complexion was still beautiful, and she appeared to be in her mid-to-late 30s.

Lesley embraced Astrid, excited to see her yet unsure about their previous relationship. She eventually overcame her hesitations and hugged her warmly. "It's great to see you again," Lesley said.

"It's great to see you as well," Astrid responded cheerfully after their greeting.

Witnessing the warm hug between the two, I felt like a third wheel until Lesley ended the embrace so she could introduce me.

"This is my husband, Steven," she stated formally.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Walmsley," I replied, trying to sound polite.

"Just call me Astrid," she responded, giving me a friendly hug. "It's been nice meeting you, Steven. I've heard many fantastic things about you from Lesley, and Carole and Kate as well."

"Don't believe everything they said," I joked.

"They spoke highly of you," Astrid replied. "It seems like you've got quite a following there."

Lesley laughed. "At times, I feel like I only have a small share in Steven with those two!"

"Paul's been on the phone with work all day," Astrid informed, looking slightly annoyed. "We arrived at lunchtime, so we haven't been here long. But he refuses to take a break. I'm hoping you can help him relax."

"We'll make sure he does," Lesley promised with a giggle.

Astrid assured us that Paul would not answer the phone while we were there. We entered their massive open-concept living space, which had huge glass windows overlooking a deck adorned with a hot tub. Then, the entire valley stretched out before us.

"Wow," Lesley exclaimed.

"This place is truly stunning, isn't it?" Astrid agreed, sharing her sentiment. When they purchased the land,they knew this was the perfect spot for their dream home.

"It is," Lesley confirmed, still awed.

And she was right. It was incredible.

"How about a drink?" Astrid inquired. "There's tea or juice or... "

"If I rode my bike all day, I'd prefer a beer," came a booming voice as its owner descended the stairs.

Lanky and powerful, with the stature of a former rugby player, Paul Walmsley appeared to be in his mid-forties. His dark hair was well-groomed, and he wore chinos and a Ralph Lauren shirt, suggesting his position as a CEO. However, despite his appearance, he still looked tired. His bloodshot eyes were surrounded by dark bags, making it clear he needed some rest.

"You have to put up with my wife," he apologized. "She thinks everyone lives as healthily as she does."

Astrid scolded him and asked if we wanted a beer, which we both did.

Paul immediately headed towards Lesley and embraced her.

"It's wonderful to see you again," he told her. "Astrid and I have been looking forward to your visit."

"Thank you for having us," Lesley said. "Paul, this is my husband, Steven."

Paul warmly shook my hand.

"I've heard a lot about you from Daniel," he shared with a hint of a Yorkshire accent.

"Thank you for inviting us to stay at your home," I expressed my gratitude. "It's truly beautiful."

"We bought the land when we moved from London, primarily as an investment but later fell in love with it," Paul said, sitting down with Astrid on a huge suede sofa.

"Yes, we did," Astrid confirmed and handed him a beer. "Two thousand acres. More or less," Paul reported. "There are some flat spots and others less so."

"It's quite the property," Lesley marveled. "But how do you manage such a large estate when you're not there?"

"I pay a property maintenance company to handle it," Astrid explained. "There's lots of second homes in the area, and it's a booming business."

"The stables were here when we bought the place," she continued. "A couple runs a livery service out of them. They take care of our horses and look after our property when we're away."

"You have horses?" Lesley inquired, sounding thrilled.

"Wow, do you have an array of horses," Paul joked playfully. "Some are big, small, old, young. Astrid can't resist a horse."

Astrid looked modest and embarrassed.

"Mostly, they are rescue animals," she said compassionately. "It's heartbreaking to see them when they first arrive. Starving, underfed, I can't refuse them."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of," Paul said, hugging her.

"If we can't make a difference with our finances," Astrid stated more sorrowfully. "We try to find them a new home, but no one wants the older ones; they reside here and spend their remaining years in the pasture."

"Let's head over and have a look," Lesley expressed interest.

"We can take turns riding horses tomorrow, and the boys can go on their bikes," Astrid offered.

"Sounds great," Lesley responded enthusiastically.

That evening, we decided to eat early, as everyon was exhausted from the long day. It took little over 30-minutes to drive to the thriving little town of Aspen in the Walmsley's iconic Jeep Wagoneer. The spacious SUV with its wooden exterior and its smooth stability is a nostalgic ride.

In Aspen, there were numerous restaurant choices. Astrid and Paul led us to a secluded spot slightly away from the busy street where the food was decent but simple. Paul was struggling to keep his eyes open through the meal, and Astrid appeared concerned. When I suggested I was fatigued from the bike ride, everyone agreed on heading back.

It was a good decision that Astrid was driving us home. I didn't fully trust Paul's ability to remain awake.

Most of us retired early that night.

We awoke at around 7 a.m. the following morning and, in spite of our efforts, couldn't return to dreamland. Perhaps we were still adjusting to the new time difference.

"Let's go for a run," Lesley proposed.

What's excellent about running is how you don't require much, only a pair of trainers, shorts, and a shirt which is compatible with bike-wear.

We exited the house and commenced our jog along the gravel path besides the creek. I was reminded of jogging in Carole's vineyard in Provence, accompanied by her two dogs, Donald and Mickey. I missed their companionship.

We misjudged the altitude again and eventually, both of us were breathing heavily. Lesley was determined to outrun me and continued. After a while, I ceased, and still not uttering a complaint, her smile revealed her spirit.

We continued our walk and, as we reached a hilltop, a small lake came into view, fed by this creek.

"I'd love to go swimming," Lesley proposed excitedly.

"I think that water is freezing," I pointed out.

"I don't care. Come on, let's go in together."

We shed our running boots, but there was no point in shedding the remainder of our attire, as it was already drenched in sweat. So, somewhat clothed, we plunged into the chilly water. It was bitterly cold, making our breath freezing withdrawals. We clung, huddled in each other's embrace, barely lasting sixty seconds in the water.

Jumping up and down, we tried to stimulate our circulation. Lesley's wet running gear didn't part ways in haste, and I could see her nipples, hardened from the chill. However, not to be outdone, my own gear stuck to me as well, and when Lesley sensed my subtle arousal, she didn't hesitate. She peeled off her clothes and offered herself to me. I nursed her nipples while she lowered my shorts. Occupying her hands at my penis.

We sought a private location for intercourse, but couldn't find a suitable spot to avoid being noticed. Thus, I led Lesley to the nearest large stone and placed her on it. Here, I decided to do the deed from behind. This activity stimulated my blood circulation once more, and Lesley encouraged enthusiastically, inspiring me.

Holding her firmly to prevent her movements, I continued thrusting, and buried myself into her.

"This felt fantastic," Lesley groaned.

I, too, enjoyed this moment. Lesley was open in expressing her sentiments, a quality I enjoyed in her.

"Me too," I smirked.

However, to go back in that cool water, she'd have to leave our private space. Since neither of us was eager, we'd have to settle with our thoughts. "Let's explore your chateau." Lesley suggested.

"Sounds thrilling," I responded.

"We'll split up," Astrid suggested helpfully.

Astrid and her husband took Paul and one other boy on a detailed tour while I accompanied Lesley, Ryan, and one other boy to the bedrooms.

"This is the master suite with its impressive bathroom, it has a Jacuzzi," I led the way and began detailing the key areas.

After a while, we descended back to join Astrid and her husband, now Frank. We spent the rest of the day exploring the house.

The prospect of taking another dip in the cold pool didn't pique my interest. Yet we had to pay the price for our enjoyment, so we scurried back in and dived in. It was just as chilly as it was initially and our second plunge was brief.

Toweling off as best we could, we donned our gym shoes and headed back to the house. The day was starting to warm up, and our clothes began to dry as we walked.

"What do you make of Astrid?" Lesley inquired.

"She appears pleasant," I answered.

"Do you find her attractive?"

"Can't blame a guy for trying. I'm unsure if she's into me, though."

"Trust me, she is," Lesley chuckled.

"And what about Paul? Do you fancy him?"

"Come on, he's successful, wealthy, and handsome. You know my taste."

I did. Actually, I'd always pondered why she married me.

"He does appear worn out, though," I remarked.

"He does," Lesley replied.

"May I spend time with Astrid, too?"

"Go right ahead."

"I adore you."

Upon our arrival, we showered and changed into our fresh outfits. Lesley had her Guess jeans and a pink top. I had my Levis and a Harley-Davidson tee I'd bought from the showroom on the King's Road. We heard footsteps downstairs, so we descended and saw that Astrid was awake. She was donning just a short silk robe that barely covered her behind but unveiled her exquisite, long legs. She was incredibly gorgeous.

"Bonjour," Astrid greeted Lesley with a tight hug first.

I'm not sure if this was intentional or unintentional, but as Lesley embraced Astrid, she tried to kiss her lips. Astrid didn't pull away and the girls exchanged a deep, passionate kiss.

"I've desired that kiss since I arrived," Lesley teased afterward.

"Not only me, then," Astrid responded reassuringly. "Shall I introduce myself to your husband?"

"Absolutely, but he's concerned you might not be interested in him."

Astrid approached me and kissed me passionately. I wrapped my hands around her waist, and she grasped the back of my neck, keeping me close. Our tongues collided, and I traced my hands over her bare skin. When I laid hold of her bottom firmly, Astrid sighed with approval.

"Calm down, you two," Lesley quipped when we reefed ourselves apart.

"Have I convinced you?" Astrid inquired.

"Yes."

"Great," she joked.

There was no indication of Paul, and when we enquired, Astrid apologized, saying that she'd allow him to sleep in. At eleven-thirty, we had yet to spot him, and I proposed that Astrid and Lesley go and indulge in their plans. They protested reluctantly but appeared eager to be alone.

"We need a few more clothes," Lesley suggested, attempting to justify their departure.

"Aspen has plenty to offer," Astrid pointed out.

We bade the girls goodbye, writing in a note to return by six. I prepared a cup of coffee for myself and lounged on the deck with Tom Clancy's, "The Hunt for Red October." Lesley had gifted me with the book at Heathrow, and it was right up my alley. In fact, I could've read it in one sitting, but just before noon, Paul emerged.

"Steven, please accept my apologies. I had no idea what time it was," he said apologetically.

"Calm down, it's vacation," I consoled him then suggested, "Fancy a bike ride?"

"Where to?"

"There's a biker hangout in Montrose County I've longed to visit. Astrid's never been keen on it."

"Take the lead," I instructed him.

I changed into my biking attire and, after leaving the girls a note saying we'd be back by six, we took off.

I had never observed such a significant amount of chrome on a motorcycle. Paul's Harley would have been the embodiment of 'bling' if it had existed at the time. And it wasn't merely on the Harley. Clad in leather chaps, riding waistcoat, and donning a bandana instead of a helmet, Paul looked like the archetype of a rich urban biker. But what really astonished me was the revolver he wore on his waist.

"It's a lawless region out here," he explained once he noticed me glance at it. "This handgun is a Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum. I bought it at an auction the previous year."

I was familiar with General Patton, and I knew he was involved in World War II, but I'm blushing to admit I knew nothing more about him than that.

We found out that Montrose County was only a couple of hours' journey away. We stopped just once to refuel, but besides that, it was all about riding through some marvelous scenery.

When we got to the bar, I was astonished to see almost twenty other bikes parked outside. This seemed a significant amount for a regular Thursday afternoon. Many of them had pack rolls strapped to them, so I inferred that they were headed out for the weekend. A few guys stood outside smoking, but the rest must have been inside.

We parked our bikes and as we did, I noticed that the two guys standing outside the bar were part of a biker club, monitoring the bikes. The bigb-adass half emblems on their waistcoats revealed them as "prospects," not yet full-fledged members.

"Are you certain about this?" I asked warily.

"You bet!" Paul responded with confidence.

We walked into the bar and instantly, I wished we hadn't. The bikers' waistcoats clued me in that they belonged to a club called the Valhalla's Own M.C. The bottom rocker of their three-piece patch marked them as from Denver, but ominously, they all wore the 1% patch as well.

We made our way to the bar and waited for our turns to be served. It was pretty busy, and we had to wait. When the bartender finally reached us, he gave us a peculiar look.

"Are you really sure you want to be drinking here right now, gentlemen?" he asked.

I'm certain he meant it as friendly advice, but the CEO of a prominent international investment bank, Paul, wasn't accustomed to being told what to do.

"This is a free country, isn't it?" he retorted.

The bartender shrugged, and we ordered two beers which he poured for us.

There were no free tables, so we stood at the bar. It became apparent that a small gang of about five bikers was eyeing us.

"What's up, boys? Where are you heading?" Paul asked them cheerfully.

"What the fuck is it to you?" replied one of the bikers.

"I'm just trying to chat," Paul retorted.

"We're not interested in talking to the likes of you," retorted the biker.

Paul's retort more than likely vexed this biker. He was challenged and needed to save face among his mates. He had to do something. So he tried to provoke a fight.

"Who are you calling 'the likes of us', asshole?"

The biker was slightly taken aback by the insult, but he couldn't just let this pass. He played it cool, knowing that a fight was imminent.

"Look, we don't want any trouble," I said, trying to intervene.

My English accent was distinct and provided the biker a new target.

"Who do you think you are? Mary Poppins?" he scoffed at his buddies' amusement. Then turning his attention back to me, he said, "I'll tell you what. You can have the first shot."

This was a rookie mistake on the biker's part, but it didn’t help us much. I could handle him one on one, but his buddies would definitely jump in afterwards. My only chance was to take him out quickly and buy some precious time.

The biker stood before me, with a menacing aura. He wanted me to attack him and issue the first blow. I knew that if I tried, he'd block me, and then he'd have a chance to counterpunch me. So I made it appear as if I was going to strike him with a hard right, gently parried his right hook away with my left arm, and jabbed him hard in the throat. I hit him right on the sweet spot of his trachea, and he collapsed to his knees gasping.

We bought ourselves five seconds before his friends diagnosed the situation.

"Step back," Paul's voice boomed from behind me.

I turned around and spotted Paul standing tall, clutching General Patton's Smith and Wesson in his hand. Meanwhile, the bartender had pulled a pump action shotgun from beneath the counter. Some of the bikers had guns on them, but none had drawn them yet. It was already too late for Paul to defend himself.

A middle-aged biker, revealed as the club's President, stepped forward, followed by a younger, more fit man who appeared to be his minder.

"It was a fair fight," the barman commented, hoping to prevent any further conflict.

"I know," the President answered. "I saw the whole thing."

The President turned his gaze on me and asked, "You're pretty good with your fists. What about against a true fighter?"

I replied, "Does it matter?"

The President continued, "Well, if you take on Travis here, I'll buy you a drink."

"What if I don't?"

"Then things could get really dangerous."

"I guess I don't have much of a choice."

"No, not really."

The bartender motioned for us to step outside into the parking lot and brandished his shotgun.

We exited and went to a small patch of dirt in front of the bar where they called the parking lot. Paul kept his gun unsheathed but not pointing at anyone. Travis removed his rings and handed them to the President, an act of goodwill as they'd have been used as weapons otherwise. I took off my ring and gave it to Paul, although it was unlikely to do much harm. We had no pre-fight discussion, just a nod to signal our readiness.

For the next seven or eight minutes, Paul and Travis engaged in a back-and-forth exchange of blows, neither gaining the upper hand. It was a fantastic experience for me, finally putting into practice what I'd learned from Andy at the gym in Battersea.

The noise of a police car approaching interrupted the fight. It revved its engine and broke off a short siren burst as it drew near. Two men emerged from the vehicle, both pointed their weapons towards Paul.

"Drop the gun, buddy," one of them ordered.

Paul complied, placing the firearm on the ground.

"Now kick it away."

"I'd rather not," Paul said faintly. "It's an old relic. It was once owned by General Patton."

The officer found this response puzzling and asked, "Are you serious?"

"This was just a demonstration. Paul was showing us his gun. It's a historical artefact, you see. It belonged to General Patton," the barman added, his words dripping with mockery.

The bikers laughed at this.

The officers turned their attention towards Travis and me.

"What's your take on this, Ike?" the other officer asked.

"I guess it's as they say, Officer," the bartender responded. His voice hinted at a different truth but he was willing to support the bikers' story.

"Let me get this straight," Sheriff Peterson said to the bikers.

"That's right, Sheriff," the President responded sarcastically. "My guys were just checking out this guy's sweet antique rifle. You know, the one that once belonged to General Patton."

The crowd laughed at that.

"And you, gentlemen?" the officer asked Travis and me.

"Just playing around," I quickly replied before Travis could.

"Right, just playing around," Travis agreed.

"That's how you saw it, Ike?" Sheriff Peterson asked the bartender.

"I suppose so, Sheriff," the bartender answered, his voice revealing his disbelief.

"In that case, I suggest you and your buddies head out," Sheriff Peterson told the bikers.

"Agreed, Sheriff," the President responded sarcastically. "Let's get going, boys."

The bikers started moving towards their bikes, but before leaving, the President approached me and Paul.

"What's your name, Mary Poppins?" he inquired, referring to my earlier punch when my hand snapped up like a puppet.

"Steven," I replied.

"I'm Rico, but the rest of them call me Prez. We could use guys like you," he stated.

"I'm not so sure about that," I answered.

"Suit yourself," he retorted. "But if you change your mind, here's my card."

I shook his hand and took his card. Rico, or the President, then turned to Paul.

"If you ever pull a gun on me or my guys and it's not loaded, or if you're just not fast enough, just remember this. You'll need all the bullets you can get."

Paul stood there in disbelief. No handshake was given and the President walked away. Travis shook my hand and nodded. He completely ignored Paul and trailed the President to his motorcycle. The roar of twenty Harleys was deafening, spinning their wheels in the dirt as they left.

In contrast to the large group of bikers, Paul and I were more feasible targets for the police. Sheriff Peterson requested to see some identification and took our addresses. When he inquired about our careers, the Sheriff chuckled aloud when we mentioned 'investment banker' and 'private equity firm.' But after recording our details, we were free to depart.

"Can I have my firearm back now, Sheriff?" requested Paul, sounding a bit like a child who had his slingshot confiscated.

"You can retrieve it from the Sheriff's office in Montrose tomorrow," replied Sheriff Peterson, handing Paul a receipt for his weapon. Paul complied without protest.

So, we loaded up and left - traveling about five miles before Paul pulled into a gas station. He got off his bike and pulled out a small cigar from his pocket.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning against the bike. "I've only got the one."

As Paul lit the cigar, I observed his hands trembling. He took a puff then offered the cigar to me.

"I almost got us both killed back there," he confessed. "What the hell was I thinking?"

"No harm was done," I reassured him.

"You're fucking kidding, right? I saw you knock a guy out with one punch while I brandished a firearm at the others."

"Yes, but it wasn't actually loaded," I joked.

Paul smiled at that. "Though, if it had turned out differently, we'd be liable to die in a hail of bullets, like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."

The comment momentarily startled Paul.

"How did you learn to fight like that?" he inquired.

"Lesley and I take self-defense classes."

"Don't mess with me, Steven."

"I won't. I used to box as a boy. I was exposed to someone who trains the security services for a living. Lesley and our friend Suzy also train with his partner. It's a pastime, essentially."

"So, Lesley's some kind of assassin as well?"

"Not really." I laughed. "Just don't enrage her, either."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"It's the adrenaline," I explained. "It makes you do things you never imagined you could. Yet, at times, it makes you do things you can't."

Paul listened carefully, his shaking hands now almost steady.

"It's the adrenaline," I clarified. "It grants you capabilities you've never considered. Sometimes, though, it allows you to do things you technically cannot."

His hands were still shaking, but the trembling had subsided significantly.

'It's the adrenaline, Paul. It fosters courage. It leads you to perform feats you never thought were possible. But sometimes, it urges you to act beyond your abilities," I elaborated. "You achieved that today. A fearless stance in the face of danger. Many would not."

Paul appeared a bit calmer.

"Am I being patronized by a twenty-something?" he quipped.

The encounter had ended, leaving us seven hours and a stomachful of nerves later, standing in front of Lesley and Astrid.

"We were anxious about you two," Astrid stated, embracing her husband.

"We've encountered a few issues," Paul stated.

"Tell us what occurred," Astrid inquired.

"I could really use a drink first," Paul said. He then poured himself a large bourbon, consumed it in one gulp, and refilled his glass. He offered me one, but I thirstily requested a beer from Astrid. We all sat down, and Paul and I reported the details of the incident.

Astrid gazed at Paul with a horrified expression while Lesley stormed with laughter.

"I've always been wary about that place," Astrid sighed.

"I know you have," replied Paul. "Steven had also advised it."

"Then why didn’t you heed their warnings, darling?"

"Because I'm incredibly stubborn," he acknowledged.

"Actually, what you saw today is typical Steven behavior," I shared. "When Steven sustained a knife injury, I had to inform his parents. I recall considering 'getting stabbed' as trivial, but Sandy, Steven's mother, informed me that his father was known for his frequent close-calls. Since then, I've grown accustomed to the Carter lifestyle."

Astrid rose from her seat, hugged Paul, and kissed him.

"You're not Dirty Harry, are you?" she comforted. "You're simply a banker from New York, with a wife who loves you dearly."

"I know," he said. "And I adore you, too."

Paul mentioned to his wife, "She's a Ninja too, you know." This comment made the two young girls giggle.

"Steven and Andy work out really hard, but Suzy and I are catching up," said Lesley.

"You're doing great," I echoed her.

Lesley snuggled up in my lap and kissed me.

"How was your shopping experience?" I inquired.

"Clothes are much cheaper here, so I may have gone a bit overboard," Lesley confessed. "I bought you some fantastic shirts, a couple pairs of jeans, some underwear, and even more trainers," she added.

"Thank you, and what did you buy for yourself?"

"I may have acquired a few items myself," Lesley admitted sheepishly.

"They were all necessary, truly," Asserted Astrid, coming to Lesley's defense.

"How was your horseback riding?"

Astrid and Lesley exchanged a secretive glance.

"We didn't go," Astrid conceded sheepishly. "We had some catching up to do."

Lesley snickered. We all knew what that meant.

"I'm not surprised," Paul comforted his wife.

"Neither am I," I echoed.

It was getting late to go out for dinner, so Paul turned on the barbecue. It seemed that, no matter where they were, men were responsible for grilling. With the stress of the day now behind us, Paul started to unwind. Astrid admitted she had forgiven her husband, and I couldn't help but notice the affection between the girls and their partners.

The size of the steaks Paul cooked was astonishing. He made one for himself, Lesley, and me, while Astrid opted for a smaller piece of chicken. I realized Astrid was watchful with her diet, but not only that, she also maintained a healthy one. She also limited her drinks to just champagne. Lesley offered Paul and me rounds of beer.

We enjoyed our meal on the deck, but as it grew darker, the temperature dropped. When we finished eating, Paul suggested we head inside.

"I'd like to take a dip in the hot tub, dear," Astrid informed her husband.

"Me too," Lesley agreed.

Seeing where this was headed, Paul and I agreed.

"We better get changed then," Paul enthusiastically declared.

In our room, we found Lesley surrounded by even more shopping bags. "I've saved a fortune," she joked, indicating she knew I wouldn't mind.

Amongst the bags, Lesley found what she was looking for, pulling out a bikini for herself and some Speedos for me.

"You should get rid of your old pair," she instructed me, giggling.

These new Speedos had a stars and stripes design pattern and were even skimpier on me than my previous pair.

"You're kidding," I said, holding them up.

"Come on, be a good sport," she urged me. "You'll see how tiny this bikini is if you put it on."

We changed into our robes and re-joined Paul and Astrid downstairs. Paul was ready to serve everyone a drink and Astrid had wrapped her arms around his neck.

"They say you're the local Sheriff around here, sir," Lesley joked in a fake cowgirl accent.

"Well, it's not for me to say, Ma'am," Paul replied, ethusiastically. "But if they're saying that, then it must be true."

"I might need your services tonight," Lesley continued with a giggle. "Why don't you and I go have a little chat outside about that?"

Lesley walked outside to the hot tub with Paul, leaving Astrid and me alone.

"You're not shy, is your wife?" Astrid chuckled.

"No, she's not, especially when she wants something," I answered.

The young lady admitted, "I'm terrified of attracting the attention of handsome young men."

It was a generous compliment; I took it as my cue to be bold.

"Would you mind if I made the first move?" I asked her.

"I'd enjoy that."

I approached Astrid, unfastening the cord on her robe. I moved my hands inside the robe to rest on her hips as we shared a kiss. Kissing someone the same height as me felt different from my usual routine of lowering my head to meet Lesley's.

Astrid's kisses were delicate but passionate.

"Thank you for taking care of Paul earlier," she said after breaking our kiss.

"He was the one with the gun," I responded.

"Carole warned me about this," she added.

"About what?"

"She said it's incredibly challenging to thank you or praise you."

"Do you often talk to Carole?" I inquired.

"Occasionally, but we mainly send each other letters."

"That's lovely."

"The two of you are very important to her," Astrid shared with me. "She might be a bit lost without you both."

"We adore her."

"Is it possible that a marriage to Fabien isn't what Carole had hoped for?" Astrid questioned.

"Did she tell you that?"

"In her own words, essentially."

Looking at Astrid, it certainly seemed that way. Carole lived with Lesley and I for three nights a week while she traveled to Provence for the weekends. This arrangement had initially only been planned for three months but after ten months, it still continued. We expanded the house, granting Carole her own room, but most nights she shared ours or Suzy's bed. While we were content with the current set up, Fabien had found himself a younger woman to occupy his time while Carole was away. Could this dynamic be concealing an unresolved issue?

"Perhaps you should visit us in London. The girls would be absolutely delighted, as would we," I suggested to Astrid.

"I'd enjoy that as well," she replied.

We embraced in a passionate kiss again, and this time, Astrid removed my robe. Her hands touched my skin, and my arousal returned.

"Carole also mentioned that you should make love to me the same way you make love to her," she said.

I was well-aware what she meant. It was an open secret that Carole enjoyed being dominated sexually, and I was always happy to grant her requests in that department. At first, I worried that her small stature might make her fragile but she proved to be more than capable of handling my advances.

"We don't necessarily need to join them in the hot tub," I suggested. "We can simply walk away."

"You're absolutely right," Astrid responded. "They'll manage just fine without us."

Astrid guided me upstairs to her bedroom and, upon entering, I noticed how slim she appeared. Her small breasts and ribs and pelvic bones were visible through her pale skin. Losing more weight would leave her undernourished.

I joined her on the bed, preparing to perform oral sex on her since it was typically my first move. However, Astrid pulled me upwards to face her.

"No reason for that," she laughed and went on to clarify, "Lesley already took great care of me this afternoon."

I traced my hand over Astrid's smooth pubic area before inserting two fingers into her, gently stroking her to ensure she wasn't hurt. We locked lips and I maintained a gentle pace while inside her. The urge to say something inappropriate like, "I can't believe I'm making love to Astrid Olsen," was tantalizing but I resisted.

"Are you comfortable with this?" I asked instead.

"It's pleasant," she replied in an adorable voice.

Relieved to avoid any early ejaculation, I attempted to maintain my composure and continue at a relaxed pace. It's difficult to entirely control the many triggers that can induce premature ejaculation but passing the first five minutes gives me enough time to regain control and prevent any unwelcome release.

I repositioned myself on top of Astrid, sliding the tip of my cock inside her. She exhaled with pleasure as I entered her and nuzzled her neck as we settled into a casual rhythm. I refrained from expressing any crude remarks, choosing to focus on our intimate connection.

"All good?" I double-checked with her.

"Terrific," she answered playfully.

Perched atop this perch, I embarked on a more intense and forceful penetration of Astrid. My mind simultaneously traversed the range of sexual positions Carole favored. I sought to create a sort of hierarchy, beginning with the more physically demanding ones and culminating in those that required lesser endurance. Despite Carol's remarkable fitness, she could become nearly weightless by the end. I couldn't predict if Astrid would make it through my entire repertoire.

To ensure that Astrid reached climax prior to changing positions, I positioned my pelvis against her clitoris while I made slow, deep thrusts. Astrid took advantage of the situation, nibbling my earlobe enticingly. As she kept her hands firmly lodged in my buttocks, she tried pulling me deeper with each push. I observed that she was enjoying the rhythmic penetration and, eventually, she plunged her head into my shoulder, sunk her nails into me, and climaxed.

After Astrid's orgasm, I positioned her back against the wall, facing me. I hoisted her legs to her waist and drove her into the oak paneling. The experience became more intense, as Astrid wrapped her hands around my neck and attempted to force my lips against hers. She bit my lower lip then bit the tip of my nose.

"Slap my face," she pressed.

"Are you certain?" I inquired.

"Slap my face and call me a slut," she demanded.

Lesley and I had been practicing this exercise, or at least a similar variation, to work past my reluctance when it came to more forceful physicality with my partners. "If she explicitly asks for it, then it's acceptable," Lesley had mused.

I delivered a slap to Astrid's face but only lightly before clapping my hand over her cheeks and pulling her lips together.

"You are a vulgar little slut, are you not?" I told her.

This seemed to be effective. Astrid clutched my head and kissed me ardently. I gripped her tightly against the wall, fucking her with all my might.

As it came time to extricate Astrid from the wall, I swiveled her around and continued fucking her; this time, though, I was behind her. Fucking a woman of my own height was significantly easier than with Lesley or Carol, who both required me to crouch or her to stand on tiptoes. With nary a need for any awkward adjustments, all our primary parts lined up. I circled my palm around Astrid's neck and squeezed it gently, much to Lesley's instruction. Astrid grunted her approval, thrusting out her hips to invite the next entry.

It became abundantly clear that Astrid appreciated having her bottom strike and each new position included a percussive rapping of her bottom before sex. Spoiler alert: My erection was my horse, and I was racing for the finish line.

The duo fucked for roughly half an hour, but, unfortunately, the altitude had a healing influence on me. My breathing was rapid, and my heart thumped ferociously as my body searched for the oxygen it required. Exhaustion also plagued Astrid. Her age, in comparison to mine, complicated my previous assumption that she received an equal measure of strain.

Once again, at last we both reached our limits, sprawling out side by side. My only concern? My ejaculation had yet to occur. To ensure Astrid knew I was fully satisfied, she navigated down towards my abdomen. I noticed her seek my mouth, and, taking my cock into it, she began to tantalize it as well as my testicles. I relaxed as she tongue-fucked my tools in a manner that cared not for my frustration. Astrid then fluidly withdrew from my genitals, turning back towards me. Then, casually, she announced, "How about that dip in the hot tub now?"

Discovering no sign of Lesley or Paul, Astrid flipped the switches and procured us each a bottle of water. I yearned for an ice-cold beer, but I refused to cause a fuss. Sheckesively, we later emerged onto the deck and shed our skins, gliding into the strategically-sunken, oak-cladded hot tub. With the air chilly, we nestled into the wooden container, and Astrid seated herself in my lap, her arms snug around my neck. She planted a long and carefree kiss on me.

Later, she expressed her gratitude by saying, "Thank you." Now I could inform Carole that I understood her perspective.

I embraced Astrid and shared a tender kiss with her.

"I sincerely enjoyed this evening," I expressed. "Let's hope this isn't the last time."

"I concur," she remarked, grinning playfully. "I'm convinced this won't be the end of our encounters."

We overheard Lesley and Paul entering through the door. They soon joined us in the hot tub, aiming to avoid the cold night air. Astrid and I were seated in the lap of each other.

"So, what happened to the two of you?" Lesley wondered. "We left you two alone for a brief moment and you went missing."

"We couldn't resist, I'm afraid," I responded.

"It's a good thing you both had a fantastic time," Lesley expressed with genuine affection.

Astrid questioned, "How was your evening?

"My Ninja assassin partner here almost killed me with sex," Paul mentioned with a smirk. "It'll take me weeks to recover."

"The altitude is responsible," Astrid concurred, chuckling. "We both suffered from it the same way."

After a while, the conversation shifted towards some passionate kissing. However, Lesley voiced her opinion;

"This is the epitome of what's excellent about swapping!" she declared. "Friendships, joyful encounters, beautiful experiences!"

"You're absolutely right," Paul agreed.

"It is somewhat peculiar how we end up in the predicament we're in, isn't it?" I pondered aloud.

"What do you mean?" Astrid enquired.

"Well, my life has been a voyage of fortunate occurrences, starting with meeting Lesley, all the way to us being here now," I argued.

"But how did you two meet?" Lesley inquired of Astrid and Paul.

"We owe Daniel for that," Paul revealed. "You recognize Daniel, right? Well, he enjoys attending extravagant events to maintain his status. Convinced Paul to go to a philanthropic fashion show during London Fashion Week. All of us paid a fortune for tickets, and the models didn't get paid for showing up. Most attendees were accompanied by their wives. Daniel and Carole were present with Lesley and I. Following the event, when everybody was mingling, I remarked to Daniel and Carole how much I admired Astrid.

"She is," Lesley added.

"Daniel suggested that it seemed certain Astrid was single and that I should converse with her," Paul recounted. "But I was far too timid to carry out his advice. Instead, Carole approached Astrid and indicated to her that there was someone who'd really love to meet her. He was handsome, affluent, successful, and most notably, a wonderful human being."

"It wasn't quite what Carole said," Astrid admitted, smiling. "She instigated it by asserting that my buddy would truly enjoy my company, but she emphasized that he was an appealing fellow - wealthy, accomplished, and most notably, a genuinely decent man."

"And that was it?" Lesley remarked.

"No way," Paul said, chuckling. "I had to work quite hard for it."

"During my time, I'd had some unsuccessful relationships. Also, I was often relocating, thus it was challenging to maintain a long-term commitment. But given Paul's persistence and that I genuinely dreamed of him, I couldn't resist any longer."

"It took quite the planning," Paul reminisced.

"It wasn't long before our dinner conversation led to spending the night together. Afterwards came weekend getaways and ultimately, a romantic holiday. Once we were caught by the paparazzi, I was forced to reveal that we were a couple. We publicly acknowledged our union a year later, and, well, my modelling days were over."

"Do you ever miss it?" Lesley questioned.

"Yes, my 23-year-old self does," Astrid responded. "However, my 36-year-old self doesn't. Furthermore, I'm traditional and believe that my role is to support my husband. He's the breadwinner, and single-handedly carrying out his responsibilities is impossible. Invitations to dinner parties, confabs, charity events, and - of course - travelling. I'm amazed you're capable of managing a career while also supporting Steven. It must be draining."

She didn't respond. I noticed Lesley's mind pondering the scenario. Had she considered her life's role from Astrid's perspective?

When she awoke, Astrid snuggled up to me, and practically right away, she wanted to engage in sexual intercourse. It was fortunate since I had admired her while she was asleep, and I yearned for it as well.

Astrid conveyed a sense of reserve to everyone outside of the bedroom, yet within she was far from it. She was skillful at expressing her desires, and I appreciated that. On this occasion, though, there was no need for her to tell me. With our failed attempt the previous night, we both wished for me to ejaculate within her.

We initiated our lovemaking playfully, exchanging kisses and chit-chat as we engaged in the missionary position. As things got more intense, I lifted Astrid's legs up, positioning her knees close to her chest. This allowed me to thrust into her aggressively for the short span of time it took to reach orgasm. During this entire process, Astrid continued to urge me to ejaculate in her, and we were able to relax once I had finished.

As I drew away from her, she wanted to snuggle and draped herself over me, pushing her recently filled vagina against my leg. We shared more kisses, but as we did, the phone rang.

"I should answer that," she remarked, "before Paul forgets."

Astrid reached out and picked up the phone.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi Astrid," came the reply. "It's Bill."

In the serene atmosphere of the bedroom, I could hear the voice clearly, but it didn't seem to disturb Astrid.

"How are you, how's Alison?" Astrid inquired.

"We're both doing well, thank you. How are you?" the voice asked.

Astrid smiled at me.

"We're very well."

"You're at the ranch this weekend?" the voice continued. "Alison and I are flying in tonight. We're hosting a gathering on Saturday. I apologize. If we had known you were in town earlier, we would've invited you sooner. But it would be wonderful to see you both, if you can make it. It's the usual crowd."

"Thank you, Bill. That's lovely. But we have some guests."

"Are they swingers?"

Astrid looked at me and said, "Indeed, they are. But they're a bit too young for our typical crowd. They're in their mid-twenties."

"I see." Bill pondered for a moment. "Listen, we have some acquaintances around here, similar age. They're a wonderful couple, quite discreet. We've been trying to get them to visit us for a while. It's short notice, but I'm confident we can persuade them to come. Would you think your friends might be interested?"

Astrid removed her hand from the phone and asked me, "What do you think?"

"Never turn down an opportunity," I told her.

Astrid took her hand off the phone and said to Bill, "They're thrilled about the proposition."

"I'm sorry," Bill chuckled. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Astrid replied, "It's alright. If you'd rung fifteen minutes earlier, I might not have picked up."

"In that case, I won't consume any more of your time."

"That's fine."

"Looking forward to seeing you both tomorrow. Around eight?"

"That's perfect. We'll eagerly await it. Say hello to Alison."

"Will do. Say hi to Paul for me."

"Bye."

"Bye."

The line went dead.

Astrid shared, "That was Bill Turner. He and his spouse, Alison are close friends."

"What transpired with his previous wife?" I inquired playfully.

"Laura passed away in a car crash, roughly four years ago."

"I'm so sorry."

Astrid sighed, "It was a dreadful period. Bill was distraught, and Paul and I were quite concerned about what he might do. So, he resided with us for a few months, as he recovered from the worst of it."

"That was very considerate of you."

"At the time, Bill was a successful financial manager. Six months after Laura's death, he decided to leave New York, establishing his own investment firm. Many believed he was crazy, but he's doing quite well now. After a couple of years, he met Alison. She's a yoga instructor, a bit of a hippie but very pleasant. As for Bill, I can assure you he's fantastic, and everyone adores him."

Curious about how many individuals would be present at tomorrow's gathering, I inquired, "Approximately how many couples will be joining?"

"I reckon there'll be about ten," Astrid stated. "It depends on who's in town. However, one of the wondrous aspects of Colorado is that it's situated in the middle of the country, and it's not merely the same old East Coast attendees."

When I sensed Astrid might have mistaken my question's intention, she clarified, "Don't worry. Everyone is discreet."

"It's okay. I was just curious," I said.

In the morning, during breakfast, Lesley was thrilled by the news of the upcoming party. However, she soon grew anxious as she realized she didn't possess a suitable dress, underwear, or shoes for the occasion. All these items were missing from her wardrobe. Astrid comforted her, promising they could go to Aspen at some point to help her shop. Nevertheless, their primary task for that day was regaining Paul's gun.

As we increased our options on how to travel - bikes or Jeep - I was astonished when both girls preferred the bikes. While I expected Lesley might choose this mode, I was taken aback by Astrid's decision. Upon reflection, perhaps I should not have been surprised.

Moving upstairs to prepare for the bike ride provided an opportunity for Lesley and me to share an affectionate moment and run through the memories of the previous evening.

"How was it with Paul?" I inquired.

"He's fantastic," she replied enthusiastically. "Confident, funny, good in bed, and incredibly considerate."

"And how about with Astrid," I asked.

"I had a blast," she admitted. "I knew you would."

Arriving at our temporary dwellings, we switched into our biking attire. Paul donned a helmet along with jeans and a jacket. Lesley wore her leather jacket for protection, while Astrid opted for a rancher's jacket with a subtle style.

We retraced our route from the day before and arrived at the Sheriff's office in Montrose. After parking our bikes outside, we walked into the building and explained our purpose to the receptionist, who swiftly ushered us to the back room. The Sheriff, Peterson, then welcomed us into a room appropriately fit for an interview. We each seated ourselves as Peterson came in with a lockbox. He retrieved the gun from the box and handed it back to Paul.

"Do you own any other firearms, sir?" asked the Sheriff.

"Yes," Paul said. "My husband is a collector. It's a bit of a hobby."

"I can't force you, sir. It's still a free country, but if you're going to carry a firearm in public, I suggest you keep it loaded or leave it at home," he advised.

"I will," Paul responded graciously.

"Thank you, officer," he acknowledged.

The Sheriff invited us to exit the room. Once they had gone, Peterson sat back in his chair and revealed that he had background information on us, particularly about Paul.

"Mr. Walmsley is a well-known individual in New York," he disclosed.

"That he is," I acknowledged.

"How do you know him?" Peterson inquired.

"Our wives are friends," I informed him. "The Walmsleys were kind enough to let us stay with them for a few days during our vacation."

"I see," Peterson remarked, adding, "Ike, the bartender, shared with me what truly happened yesterday. Mr. Walmsley is a danger to himself. He's no business waving a gun around in a bar."

"I think he's learnt his lesson."

Peterson pondered for a moment and then continued, "Ike also mentioned that you handled a biker with a single punch. He further stated that watching you and the guy fighting in the parking lot was akin to witnessing Chuck Norris fighting Chuck Norris."

The description garnered a chuckle from me.

"How does a venture capitalist develop such fighting skills?" Peterson inquired.

"It's simply a method of staying fit," I explained.

"I see. Well, it was worth a try," Peterson concluded with a heavy sigh of resignation. "Have a nice day, Mr. Carter."

Lesley greeted me warmly as I returned to the bike. Paul and Astrid were curious about the Sheriff's interest in talking to me. I clarified that it might have resulted from my foreign origin.

After indulging in some lunch at a cafe, we went to Aspen with Lesley to find her ensemble for the evening party. However, I privately considered we should also consider my own attire for the event. Unbeknownst to her, Lesley had already concluded that the FBI's involvement must be linked to Blackfinch. We separated and met at a cafe later in the afternoon. Standing at a nearby bar, we ordered drinks, and Paul chimed in with some cigars.

As we sat there, he admitted,"It feels kinda weird."He continued,"I think this is the first time we've actually had a genuine conversation."

I joked,"Seems a little late for that now."

He chuckled,"Yeah, I know what you mean. Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Don't worry about it. It made for a good story when we got back to the girls."

He added,"And let's not forget, we didn't really talk much before we all jumped into the hot tub last night."

"I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries with Astrid last night," I said apologetically. "We should've joined you guys in the hot tub."

"Don't worry. The girls probably had everything figured out already."

"I guess so."

"Astrid told me she really enjoyed herself last night."

"So did Lesley."

"Man, I feel a bit old," Paul said, seeking reassurance.

"To be honest," I said,"Lesley has a thing for confident, successful, older men. I'm not really sure why she wound up with me."

"I know the answer to that," Paul said with a smile,"It's because you're her warrior."

"She told you?"I laughed.

"Yep. She told me about her tattoo and how it symbolized that she's your property."

"I'm not sure I own her," I said."It's just a story from a book."

"I know," he stated. "But it means something to her, and without that reassurance, I'm not so sure she'd be as confident as she is."

"When you say confident, you mean cheeky, right?"

"Possibly..."

We couldn't sit in the bar all day, so Paul suggested a visit to his favorite Aspen store. This place branded itself as an 'outfitter', selling trail gear and clothing, but in reality, it was a store for weekend cowboys. Just like him, I fell in love with it.

Firstly, there were the boots. In England, at the time, you could buy men's cowboy boots in high street shoe shops. But they were those cheap, poorly made things, designed for wearing to the pub on a Friday night. The boots in this store were a different story. They were made for riding horses. I convinced myself these would be great for riding the Harley too. Next up, the belts. There were beautiful leather belts with huge buckles. And finally, there were the hats. I'd always wanted a cowboy hat. No idea why.

I came out of the store with a hefty bill. In addition to clothing, it had a fantastic selection of knives. To me, a well-crafted knife was a thing of beauty. I saw that Paul felt the same way about them. So, as a sign of my gratitude for his hospitality, I bought us each a handmade knife from a local craftsman that came in a beautifully crafted leather sheath. Paul could've bought the store if he wanted to, but he took the gift graciously.

Later on, we met up with the girls again. Lesley was packed with more shopping bags, but it was my purchases that caught her attention. She stared enviously at my boots. After we had some coffee, we went back to the outfitters to buy her a pair. We got back to the ranch with our haul shoved in the bike's panniers, but Lesley had to hold my hat on her lap since there was no other place for it.

We made it back to the ranch just after 5 pm. It had been a tiring day and the girls wanted a dip in the hot tub before getting ready for dinner, so we swapped into our swimsuits and everybody piled in. This time, the hot tub was more about relaxation rather than foreshadowing sex. Lesley, however, maintained her tendency to be affectionate whenever she was happy. I couldn't help but feel proud of my wife. She could hold her own in any sort of environment.

That night, we drove back into Aspen and ate at a fairly nice steakhouse. I felt a little bit sorry for Astrid with her chicken and salad. The rest of us devoured our steaks and fries, but she was content with her healthy meal. I made sure to cover the tab after we ate, and the Walmsleys accepted the offer graciously.

We considered going to a bar afterwards, but we decided we wanted a drink at home instead.

Sitting in the Walmsleys massive living room, gazing out over the valley through the huge windows, and taking in the star-filled sky was a fantastic sight. Paul unlocked a bottle of champagne and poured each girl a glass. He also poured generous measures of bourbon for me and himself.

"Fancy a cigar?"He asked. "They're Cuban."

"You're not smoking them in here,"Astrid told him firmly.

"I know,"Paul replied,"We'll go outside on the deck."

I followed Paul outside onto the deck. It was cool, but not cold. He lit the cigars and we sat there admiring the magnificent view.

"You know, Daniel has a lot of faith in you," Paul commented after a while.

I owe him a lot," I said, "and so does Lesley."

"It must be quite challenging, with him and Lesley being so close," you might think.

"You'd imagine so," I chuckled, "but they're actually quite good at balancing things out. I'm pretty close to Kate myself, which makes things easier."

"She's a rather attractive woman, Kate," you remarked.

"High praise indeed, coming from someone married to a supermodel," Paul quipped.

We chatted until the cigars were down to their stumps, and then made our way back inside, where we found the girls lounging on a sofa together. More specifically, Lesley was on top of Astrid, pinning her down, while the two of them passionately kissed. When they heard us enter, they stopped and looked up at us.

"You shouldn't be assaulting your host," I said to Lesley.

"I was just warming her up for you," Lesley replied cheekily, then stood up and walked over to Paul.

I stayed by Astrid's side, who didn't bother getting up from the big sofa. Lesley had indeed warmed her up for me – as soon as I got comfortable, she wanted to kiss me. I shifted my body so that I was half on top of her and pressed a thigh between her legs. Astrid responded by putting one hand behind my head and kissing me even harder, while with her other hand, she pulled at my shirt.

Lesley, meanwhile, had taken Paul to one of the other sofas. He was now sitting down while she sat on his lap. She'd already removed her jeans, and Paul had them tucked around his ankles as he held her buttocks in his hands, pulling her towards him while they kissed.

Taking off some clothes seemed like a good idea, and I set about removing Astrid's. I speedily undid the buttons on her blouse and then undid her jeans. I couldn't help but slide a hand into her pants and keep going until I could slide two fingers into her pussy. Astrid pushed her hips up, forcing her pelvis against my hand while she tried to remove some of my clothing.

Lying down made it difficult to get anything completely off, so we took a brief break to help each other out. We both wriggled out of our jeans then removed each other's tops. Astrid took off her bra, then it was removed. Though her breasts were tiny, I couldn't resist licking on them until her nipples were hard as bullets.

I felt Astrid's hand grab hold of my penis. She wanked it to ensure it was sufficiently hard, then she lay back and allowed me to mount her in a missionary position. As I maneuvered myself into place, I glanced over at Paul and Lesley. Lesley was still perched in Paul's lap, but his trousers were around his ankles now. Lesley was naked, except for her panties, and she pressed her body into his. Paul - still with his trousers at his ankles - held her buttocks as he sucked on her breasts.

Pressing into Astrid felt just as good as it had the night before. She'd also seen what her husband and Lesley were up to and she smiled. Astrid wrapped her legs around me, and we started to have sex.

I'm not sure if this was going to be a long session or not, so I wasn't consciously trying to exercise control over myself, but neither was Paul.

"Oh, fucking hell," he muttered, making Lesley laugh. Then he added, "sorry."

"Don't be," Lesley replied. "You're here to enjoy yourself." Then, in a louder voice, she said, "and your wife might want to lick me out now."

Astrid's ears perked up at the proposal, and she turned towards me with a naughty smile. Lesley got up, still with her hand covering her pussy, and lay down on the sofa next to Paul. I climbed off Astrid and made my way towards Lesley.

There was a role for me in this scenario, and I didn't have to worry. Astrid got down on all fours, pushing her head between Lesley's thighs and her bottom out provocatively for me. She let out a sigh as I entered her from behind, then focused on Lesley.

In Paul's unusual form of punishment, he had to watch as I had sex with his wife, Lesley, while she was licking the other woman he'd just finished with. He fondled Lesley's nipples and gave her passionate kisses as he watched us carrying out our sexual acts. Lesley removed every sign of Paul's semen from herself before getting busy with Astrid's clitoris. I held Astrid's hips firm while I had sex with her, but I didn't give it my all until I knew Lesley had reached her climax. Then, Lesley and Paul witnessed me giving it to Astrid with full intensity. After squeezing Lesley's back, Astrid clamped her hand on Lesley's head and pinned her face over Lesley's crotch.

My orgasm finally hit, and it only took me a couple more minutes to release my seed into Astrid. Almost immediately, Lesley and Astrid began satisfying their urges for each other, and it seemed this encounter had been highly anticipated after six months of waiting. When they completed their tryst, they cozied up together, with Lesley sitting beside Paul and Astrid near me.

At eight o'clock in the morning, Lesley began to stir, posing the question of whether or not we would follow suit.

Paul gazed back and forth between the two women, uncertain of his next move, before seeking Astrid's approval.

"Hurry!" Astrid burst out in a giggle, her voice strained.

Lesley leapt from her spot and gleefully took hold of Paul's hand, practically dragging him to join her. She paused at her friend and me, pressing a kiss to both of our lips, before exiting the room.

"Enjoy it!" she called over her shoulder, her voice filled with excitement. "We'll see you at breakfast."

On the following summer weekend, Astrid and I awoke in the same windowless room, the sun crawling through the gaps in the blinds. The time had just struck seven thirty upon my watch. "Want to take a run outside?" Astrid asked excitedly.

"I'd love to," I cheerfully replied, deciding not to mention my every effort was being weighed by Paul's gaze.

Astrid had to fetch her shoes from our bedroom to avoid disturbing Lesley and Paul, whose sounds of slumber filled the house. As we approached the exit, Astrid asked, "Do you want to run by the stream or in the forest?"

I had done some running with Lesley, but there was a greater sense of solitude in the woods. "Let's do the forest route," I declared.

Astrid gasped with excitement, eager to show me the fresh, breathtaking scenery in her secret inlet. "I've never been with anyone like you," she grinned.

At last, we reached a clearing at the end of a thick woodland path, and we could spot a majestic mother moose and her calf. The gentle creature nibbled on the foliage while its tiny companion stayed close. Lesley had mentioned a few weeks earlier that the bride might have some wildlife friends, but I'd expected deer. Instead, we'd found a surprising draw.

We savored this wildlife encounter for a while, peering at the breathtaking scene in front of us in amazement, before running back to the house.

As we finished up and decided to have a little cool-down stretch, we exchanged a high-five. "How was it?" I inquired, a bit amazed.

"That was a moose, yeah?" she replied, expressing her disappointment that I hadn't put it all together.

"I don't think I've ever seen a wild animal before other than a couple of dogs and some foxes."

She smiled warmly. "For many people in New York, that's their only experience with the natural world."

As I embraced her, dealing with my newfound perceptiveness and contentment, Astrid beckoned me somewhere we could enjoy one another. "You're welcome," she murmured and sealed her gratitude with a kiss.

As we entered the house, happy chatter could be heard from the deck. Lesley attempted to show Paul some calisthenic moves, but his rugby-player frame and the force of gravity made it a challenging task. We strolled out to join them, and upon meeting the duo, Lesley and I hugged each other while Astrid embraced Paul.

"How's the calisthenics going?" I questioned.

Paul and Lesley both grinned.

"I don't think I possess the skills needed for ninjutsu," Paul quipped, causing Lesley to chuckle.

"How was your run?" Lesley inquired, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Awesome. We spotted a moose!"

"What flavor?" she teased.

"Not mousse, moose. We saw a moose with a calf. It was incredible," I clarified.

Lesley kissed me. "I think you should come upstairs and share more details with me in the shower," she suggested, looking for approval from Paul and Astrid.

"Hurry up," Astrid chuckled. "I told Karen to expect us at the stables at ten thirty."

After 48 hours apart, our intimate encounters were essential for both Lesley and me. We had sex in the shower, pressed against the wall, first facing one another but ultimately finishing with me placing Lesley behind me. We then cuddled in bed, with Lesley being very nurturing.

"Are you having fun?" she inquired.

"Yes, I am," I replied.

"Me too," she affirmed...

We piled into the Jeep for the journey to the stables. We'd driven past the turnoff a few times, but this marked our first visit. When we parked, a scruffy-looking collie-type dog came to explore, barking and wagging its tail simultaneously. I crouched down and extended my hand, inviting the dog to inspect it. The dog did so, muscle by muscle, loosening up before I started stroking her shoulder blade and then moving my hand further up to scratch behind her ear. She allowed it and, upon stopping briefly, she pushed against me, unmistakably urging me to keep the delightful scratching.

"Are you kidding?" a woman's voice said. "She's a rescue dog. She doesn't like men."

Not deterred, I persisted, and the dog allowed both me and Lesley to fuss over her. However, when Paul attempted to continue, the dog bared her teeth and began to growl.

"No change there," Paul jested.

"Karen, meet Steven and Lesley," Astrid summarized, introducing us to an appealing yet slightly worn-looking middle-aged woman.

"Nice to meet you both," Karen greeted us, shaking our hands. "The horses are ready for you."

Lesley appeared delighted, but my confidence was a bit shaken.

"You know, I've never been on a horse before," I said.

Astrid laughed.

"It's not as challenging as you think." she insisted. "Lesley and Paul can head out while Karen and I provide you with a brief lesson."

"I could always stay here with the dog," I suggested.

"That would be a wasted opportunity," Karen said. "With that outfit, you've already spent a small fortune on those expensive boots."

As I observed, my new attire stuck out like a sore thumb, drawing stares. The boots, belt, and hat looked conspicuous.

"But don't worry," Karen continued. "Bella here seems to have grown fond of you. So, you can take her along. She needs some exercise."

Unbeknownst to me, riding a horse isn't as difficult as it may seem. I call it riding, though it was more like sitting atop the horse and directing its movements. Given my limited desires, I'd apparently acquired all the knowledge I required after half an hour. So, Astrid and I set out, with Bella leading the way eagerly.

Astrid recounted fragments from her past as a model during our leisurely stroll. She described her twenties as wild times and it felt incongruent when compared to the vibrant yet serene woman talking to me.

She'd had a relationship with a renowned American actor before meeting Paul. He was unfaithful on more than one occasion, resulting in their eventual breakup.

"Stay away from actors," she advised me. "They're the most narcissistic, self-centered people you'll ever encounter."

"We know an actor," I informed her. "He's one of the most pleasant individuals you could meet. I first met him during a weekend away with Carole even."

"Carole shared that account with me," Astrid laughed. "I believe she enjoyed herself quite a bit that weekend. He's currently dating a pop star, isn't he?"

"Yes."

It was so pleasant chatting with Astrid that the time seemed to fly by. Every now and then, Bella would appear beside us just to check, then vanish again. After roughly an hour, a lake came into view, and I could make out a pair of figures and their horses in the distance. It took us roughly 15 minutes to reach Paul and Lesley, who at the time were lying on a blanket with some beers.

"That's not fair," I complained. "We didn't bring any beer."

"Neither did we," Paul replied, pointing to two coolers in the shade.

We allowed the horses to drink from the lake before tethering them out of the sun using some treats that Karen had also provided. Paul began to pull out a large net from the lake, which contained the beers along with a bottle of champagne, but Astrid stopped him.

"I want to go for a swim first," Astrid proclaimed.

"You're joking, right?" Paul remarked. "It's freezing."

"Steven and I swam in a pool a few days ago," Lesley added.

"So, you're in too?" Astrid questioned.

"Yeah, for sure," Lesley confirmed, as her competitive nature wouldn't let Astrid go in alone.

"Then that just leaves you, Paul," Astrid teased her husband.

"Okay, but if I freeze to death, I'm coming back to haunt all of you," Paul agreed.

We undressed to our underwear and ran into the lake together. Although the water felt colder than it had in the rock pool a few days earlier, swimming in the lake helped keep the cold at bay for a while. Still, we only managed to stay in for 5 minutes before agreeing it was enough.

Paul and I retrieved the coolers while I pulled out the drinks from the lake. We all spread out on the blankets, drying off in the sun instead of using any towels. Bella, who had been barking at us while swimming, approached me and pleaded for some of Karen's cold meat. Her strategy proved successful. When the food had been cleared, she lay between Astrid and me and allowed us to pet her. Paul chuckled at the sight.

"This is the dog who hates men," he commented. "Even Doug, Karen's husband, is wary of her."

"I don't understand why," Astrid delicately put it. "She's done well for herself now, though."

"It's probably because of her past," I observed, stroking Bella's ears.

"How do these parties function?" Lesley inquired about house parties. "We've never been to one before."

"They're quite similar to regular parties," Astrid explained. "Starting with plenty of socializing and gradually seeing people slip away to have fun."

"Will we be staying here?"

"We won't," Paul clarified. "We're coming back."

"Which means I'll be driving," Astrid noted with a hint of aggravation.

"I'm fine with driving," I offered. "I doubt I'll drink much."

"It's all set, then," Astrid replied. "I'm looking forward to the party tonight."

"So am I," Paul chimed in. "Can't wait to see Bill and Alison."

"They live near to Aspen, right?" Lesley inquired.

"It's closer than that," he clarified. "In a neighborhood the locals call Millionaire's Mansions."

"The houses are gorgeous, yet the lots are small," Astrid pointed out. "Unless you live there just for the weekend."

"How do these parties run?" Lesley wondered, wanting to know more.

"They're similar to normal parties," Astrid stated. "Much mingling at first, and as the evening goes on, people usually go off to have fun."

After lunch, we carefully packed away the coolers before untethering the horses and trudged back to the stables in a true western style.

By 4 o'clock, we'd made it back to the house, and at around 5, the women began concentrating on getting ready for the evening, while Paul and I sat on the deck, enjoying beers and cigars, discussing Paul's life in New York. It fascinated me. Despite his high-powered job and numerous employees working for him, he seemed like such an average person when not at work. I questioned him about how he managed, and he confessed to teaching himself to disconnect. His mindset was "[be] Here Now," implying that you fully focus on whatever you're doing, be it work or home. He admitted it wasn't always easy, but that was his objective.

At 6 PM, I figured it was time for me to get ready as well. Climbing the stairs, I entered our room where Lesley was perched in front of a vanity mirror drying her hair. Her long, fiery red tresses had always been one of the most alluring things about her for me. She had briefly entertained the idea of cutting them shorter, but I had pleaded with her against it.

"Ready for tonight?" I inquired.

"You bet!" she exclaimed animatedly. "We're off to a blind date."

Though I hadn't considered it in those terms, that's indeed what it was.

"You don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with," I reminded her.

"I know," she said. "I just hope these people are nice."

"Hopefully!"

When we arrived at the Turner's house, both Lesley and Astrid looked flawless. Lesley exuded sex appeal, while Audrey held her own next to the former supermodel, and I felt nothing but pride for her. I also felt rather underdressed in comparison to Paul's casual attire.

I drove us to the homes of Bill and Alison Turner in the V8 Wagoneer, with Paul providing directions and the girls in the back seat. The coveted neighborhood was nicknamed Millionaire Mansions due to its lavish estates. The Turners' house was set back from the road, its grandeur masked by towering pine trees.

Driving through the gate, we entered the gated community to see several high-end saloons already parked on the driveway. The most striking of these was a crimson Ferrari Testarossa. Lesley raved about its looks, while Astrid was less enthused. It was certainly making a statement. I'm just not sure what kind.

As we stepped inside the house, Bill, a tan, fit, dark-haired man in his 40s, greeted us.

"Paul, Astrid - so good to see you!" he beamed, affectionately hugging them both.

"It's great to be here!" Astrid exclaimed. "And you look fantastic, Bill."

"Thank you. You, Astrid, look stunning as always. And how have you managed to keep Paul so calm?" she queried playfully.

"I can't fully take credit for that," Astrid chuckled, then facing us, she announced, "These are my friends Lesley and Steven Carter. Lesley's the reason for that grin on Paul's face lately. Steven, he's the one keeping Paul from landing in jail, I'm not sure which."

"What have you been up to, Paul?" Bill asked.

"An innocent mishap," Paul replied sarcastically. "I didn't think drawing a gun on a biker gang in a packed bar would lead to any consequences."

"Well, you're both very welcome," Bill said, addressing Lesley and me with a smile.

Upon entering the main living room, the floor plan became apparent. The house was constructed as a single-story, one-room-wide structure with a central corridor that ran its entire length. The walls on one side were all glass that extended outside, creating a deck which took full advantage of the view.

Paul gifted a bottle of champagne to Bill as a thank-you gesture for their hospitality. The act surprised me; it reminded me of university parties where you had to bring a bottle to gain admission, except Paul's offering was far from economical.

"Astrid, Paul," a female voice called from farther down the corridor.

"Alison!" Astrid exclaimed happily.

Blonde and early thirties, Alison sported a charismatic smile and an impressive chest, although she was clothed in a flowing summer dress, making her figure difficult to determine. She bore a resemblance to Carly, a "no-frills" woman who exuded comfort in her own skin. Alison's openness won us over instantly.

"So, these are your companions," Alison addressed Astrid and Paul, then smiling at us, "But be very, very careful with this one."

"I bite," Alison teased with a giggle. "Well, unless you ask me to."

Alison had a lot in common with Carly - an uncomplicated and genuine personality that left a lasting impression. Her self-assuredness made it effortless to like her.

(Image: A beautiful image of a living room with natural light streaming in from large glass windows and an expansive deck giving access to the view beyond. They stand talking at the edge of the deck, smiling, enjoying a moment together.)

Highlighted text: "Lesley reminded me a lot of Carly. Very much a 'what you see is what you get,' type of person."

(Note: The highlighting should be retained from the original text.)

Bill made sure everyone had a drink before we all mixed with the other couples at the event. It appeared that Paul and Astrid knew many of the attendees and there was plenty of hugging and kissing occurring. When we were introduced to everyone, it was only on a first name basis.

I couldn't help but ponder if, at some point or another, Paul and Astrid had slept with everyone in attendance. There would be no shame in it if they had. The other couples were quite a good-looking bunch with the men around Paul's age and none of them particularly unattractive or overweight. The women were either around Astrid's age or younger, and I wagered that many were second wives. Some were incredibly attractive indeed. To be honest, aside from one gentleman with the Ferrari, none of them seemed unappealing.

However, there did appear to be a couple missing – the younger couple Bill had mentioned to Astrid on the phone. This wasn't lost on Astrid either.

"Did your friends travel with you?" Astrid inquired casually.

Alison looked a little uneasy.

"They did, but I think she's having second thoughts," she divulged. "Emily was fine initially but once people began arriving, she seems to have lost her nerve."

"I'm sincerely sorry," Bill added. "They're a nice couple. They were keen to come but..."

"We aren't expecting you to play with anyone else," Alison assured Lesley and me. "We're truly sorry about this."

"Don't be absurd," Lesley responded. "We'll be fine, won't we, Steve?"

"Certainly, it's not a problem," I replied.

"Maybe it would help if they saw that there are couples here of all ages," Alison proposed hopefully.

"We could go and visit them if you think that might help," Lesley suggested.

"They're in the room at the end of the corridor," Bill directed. "Their names are Emily and Dan."

We decided to make a move and see if this would offer a potential solution. Lesley grabbed a couple of glasses of champagne and told me to do the same before I followed her down the corridor.

When we reached their room, Lesley knocked on the door.

"Emily, Dan, it's Lesley and Steven. We've come to say hello."

After a short while, Dan opened the door. He was a clean-cut guy with blonde hair, chiseled features, and a fit physique. He kept the door half closed so we couldn't see further in.

"Hi," he said with a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

"We're supposed to be your blind dates this evening," Lesley persisted.

"Are you sure?" Dan questioned. "We thought it was the guy with the Ferrari and his wife. That's what he told us."

"We're fairly certain it's meant to be us," Lesley replied. "We're staying with Bill and Alison's friends – Astrid and Paul."

A realization began to dawn on Dan's face.

"Honey," he informed the unseen woman in the room. "I believe we've made a mistake."

"We brought some beverages," Lesley continued, holding out the glasses of champagne. "Would you mind if we came in?"

Dan made a quick decision and allowed us into the room. On the bed sat a pretty girl in a cocktail dress with dark hair. I couldn't see her face at first, but when she looked up, two things became apparent; she was partly Asian and had been crying. When she saw us, her face brightened a bit.

"Hi Emily," Lesley said, handing the woman a glass of champagne. "I'm Lesley and this is my other half, Steven."

I handed Dan his glass of champagne and shook his hand.

"You're British?" Emily asked with a hint of surprise.

"Yes, we're on holiday."

"So that guy tried to trick us?" Emily told Dan.

"It certainly seems that way," Dan responded. "We told him we were on a kind of blind date and he said it was with us."

"Bill and Alison are concerned about you," Lesley explained to Emily with genuine concern. "They don't want you to feel like you have to hide out all evening."

"Nobody expects you to do anything you're uncomfortable with," I interjected. "We're pretty relaxed about these things."

Emily looked at Dan, who smiled at her.

"Let's go," she said. "But can you give me a minute to fix my makeup?"

When Astrid and Paul were still speaking with Bill and Alison, the four of us returned to the living room. When Bill and Alison saw Emily once more, they let out a big response, expressing their concern for her.

"Are you alright?" Alison expressed genuine worry to Emily.

Emily was uncertain about what to say, but Lesley quickly came to her defense.

"This exhibit displayed signs of altitude sickness," Lesley explained, sounding knowledgeable. "Dizziness and queasiness."

"I'm feeling much better now, though," added Emily.

"Luckily, we got here just in time," Lesley continued. "We almost lost out to the couple with the Ferrari and their wife. They successfully convinced Dan and Emily that they were their blind date for the evening."

At this comment, Bill seemed to have understood the situation.

"Introductions, everyone," Lesley took over. "This is Paul and Astrid. They're currently hosting Steven and me."

"It's not like that at all," Paul interjected with a smile.

Bill explained, "These are some of my oldest and dearest friends. They're the ones who helped me find love again."

Alison gave her husband a hug, and they shared a moment.

"It's almost ten o'clock," she told Bill.

"Time to kick things off," Bill answered.

He tapped his glass, gaining everyone's attention. "It's nine thirty, and as is customary, we'll turn down the lights now. Just a reminder about a couple of rules before we do. Clothing is expected in the living room and the kitchen, but feel free to go without elsewhere. Ladies, the men are perfectly fine with you wearing lingerie, if you're feeling daring. Guys, the same goes for your underwear."

The gathering chuckled at his words.

He then switched off the lights, plunging the house into a dim setting.

"Are you okay now?" Alison checked with Emily.

"Yes, I'm fine," Emily confirmed. "As Lesley said, it's probably the altitude."

"Then we'll leave you two to it," Alison responded.

Lesley shared a knowing glance with me and the four friends exited, leaving Emily and Dan with me.

"So, how do you like your vacation?" Dan started the conversation.

"We're loving it," Lesley shared. "Today we went horseback riding. It was gorgeous, wasn't it?"

Lesley reached out and squeezed my hand. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"It was terrific," I confessed. "First time on a horse and I even saw a moose with its calf. You don't see moose in London, do you?"

"It's moose, not mooses," Lesley corrected.

Emily laughed for the first time.

"So how did Lesley and you meet Astrid and Paul?" Emily inquired.

"I was in New York with a friend of Paul's and he introduced us," Lesley revealed. "Astrid and I hit it off and they invited us to stay with them. So here we are."

"Just looking for free hotels," I joked.

"We're not exactly millionaires like everyone else here," Lesley said. "We're not rich, but we're doing okay I guess. At least Steven is. He's a director at a venture capital firm. I work at a hospital, which doesn't pay so well."

"What about you? How do you know Bill and Alison?"

"I work for Bill," Dan contributed. "At his investment fund."

"Ambushing your date is a bit embarrassing," Emily confessed.

"You have no reason to feel ashamed," Lesley reassured her. "It's your choice what you do with your body, not anyone else's."

"I like Bill and Alison. They're both really kind-hearted," Emily emphasized. "And you two, you like meeting couples?"

"Yep."

"It feels wrong to me, sleeping with guys much older than me," Emily admitted. "For Dan, the age gap with most women here isn't so significant. But for me, it's like sleeping with someone who could be my dad."

"Age shouldn't be a factor," Lesley said. "Honestly, I have an older boyfriend in England. He's wealthy and I find that attractive, but he's refined and confident in ways that Steven isn't yet, and that's very appealing to me."

"Don't you mind?" Emily inquired of me.

"I can understand why she's attracted to him," I shared with Emily, "and I know he cares for her; however, it only works for us as long as I'm aware that I'm her top priority."

"She is," Lesley stated. "Also, he gets to sleep with the boss's wife, and let me tell you, she's stunning."

"And you're fine with that?" Emily inquired further of Lesley.

"Of course, she's one of my dearest friends."

"What we're trying to get across here is that it works for us," I clarified. "This doesn't imply that it should work for you or anyone else."

"Do you really have relationships with people your age as well?" Dan inquired of Lesley.

"Sure! We've got Suzy and Uwe, Sam and Carly, Katja and Gerhard, and Sophie and Pierre," Lesley began listing.

"And don't forget Buster and Skye, Alain and Julie, and Mark and Sally," I added to her list.

"Then yes, we do," Lesley reaffirmed. "It might make us seem like promiscuous individuals, but we're good friends with almost everyone we've shared a bed with."

Emily wrapped her arms around Dan and embraced him.

"I wish I could be more like them," she confided in her husband. "Honestly."

"Me too," Dan replied.

"Perhaps Danny could show Lesley around the house," Emily proposed to her spouse.

"I'd be delighted," Lesley accepted Dan's invitation.

"Are you certain?" Dan inquired of Emily.

"Oh, yes, don't worry about me."

Dan proffered his arm to Lesley and she grasped it, winking at me as the two of them departed. There's no doubt that Dan is an attractive guy.

"I wish I had your wife's courage," Emily confided in me.

"She wasn't always like that," I chuckled. "If I'm honest, a lot of it's due to my boss. He's called Dan as well, but with a last name of Daniel. Lesley resided with him and his wife for a while after we tied the knot. I was at university at the time, and they took care of her. Dan is in his mid-forties, and he's well aware he's fortunate to have Lesley's fondness. Lesley is different with him compared to how she is with me."

"So, how does that differ?"

"When you're married, life becomes complicated. You both make accommodations for the relationship, but with Daniel, Lesley doesn't need to compromise. He treats her like a princess, and she adores it."

"Does his wife resent her?"

"Kate is a stunner andDan adores her. Perhaps it might be difficult if Kate and I didn't have that kind of arrangement. But Kate and Lesley are virtually sisters."

"Do you see them often?"

"We hang out a few times a week. We're even going on a holiday with them in August."

Emily appeared to be pondering this idea.

"That's the sort of thing that Bill and Alison might enjoy. And Danny, of course."

"For sure, Lesley has helped my career, though you can't do this for other people."

"I understand," she said. "Yet, you brought up some good points."

"Which ones?" I jibed. "The one about not needing to compromise?"

"Yes," Emily acknowledged, chuckling, "as well as the bit about being treated like a princess."

Emily positioned herself in front of me and wrapped her arms around my waist, placing her hands on my hip while reaching in for a kiss. Standing at roughly 5'7" in her heels, she peered at me. I placed my hands on her hips and traced the outline of her suspender belt. It's an enchanting evening, and most women at the party had neglected to don stockings. Men like myself, on the other hand, have always been enchanted by hosiery. So, I followed the line of her suspender belt to the top of her stockings.

"Do I have your attention?" she teased me.

"You certainly had it before," I replied.

"Then why don't we find a room?"

The Turners' dwelling contains five bedrooms, two of which forbid access: one might be Bill and Alison's bedchamber and the other a temporary home for Dan and Emily. Several rooms were available for romantic rendezvous, including a theatre-style room with an adult film on display and a small sitting room. This equates to five rooms for mischievous activities. There were eleven couples present in total, so it was inevitable that sharing rooms would become the norm.

Emily and I commenced exploring the theatre and sitting room, finding neither appealing. Next, we inspected the bedrooms. The first one contained Lesley and Dan. We glimpsed their foreplay for a moment before exiting to let them enjoy their time alone.

The second bedroom housed Paul and Alison. Alison sprawled on the bed and allowed Paul to have sex with her in the missionary style. They weren't alone; a dark-haired woman lay next to Alison, who was receiving the same treatment from her partner. The two women held hands and kissed while the gentlemen took care of them. This was quite an erotic sight to behold.

We found out that it was highly probable that Astrid and Bill were in the Turner's last bedroom. When we peeked through the door, they were indeed there.

"Should we go in?" I questioned.

"Absolutely," answered Emily.

When we walked in, Bill was lying on the bed and Astrid was on all fours, giving him a blowjob. Both of them were nude and Astrid's bum was exposed in a seductive manner. She hadn't noticed us yet, so before Bill had a chance to recognize us, I traced my fingers across Astrid's anus and around her labia. Astrid nearly jumped off the bed, terrified.

"Steven, you brought me close to my heart's end," she chided.

"Apologies, but your bum was just too enticing to resist," I explained.

"Humour me," she laughed lightheartedly.

"Do you mind if we join you on the bed?" Emily enquired.

"Of course not," Astrid responded on behalf of her and Bill.

"You'll need to take some of my clothes off first," Emily instructed.

I could feel Bill staring as Emily and I kissed again. I removed the little cocktail dress and Emily discarded it. She also unhooked her bra and pulled off her panties.

Emily's body was attractive due to her combination of western and oriental characteristics. She was both slim and shapely, with a tanned skin tone.

"Do you like what you see?" Emily asked with a hint of self-awareness.

Flatter her, I thought. "You're magnificent," I told her.

"I doubted it, but thanks," she replied.

"Shall I keep my stockings on or take them off?" Emily teased.

"Keep them on, please."

"Then I'll start with you," she commanded.

Emily made easy work of my shirt, then she unzipped my jeans. As soon as the zipper was undone, she pulled down my jeans and knelt over my cock. I shifted slightly to ensure that Bill could get a good view of what happened next. Emily began to suck me. Astrid was still giving Bill oral pleasure and from my stance, I could view both women.

Emily was extremely enthusiastic in her task, and I was on the brink of cumming if I didn't adjust my pace. So, I moved Emily onto the bed and instructed her to lie alongside Bill. I then took up position at the end of the bed, next to Astrid. I reached over and stroke Astrid's backside, who replied by grazing her fingers through my hair.

Bill was cautious, keeping his hands to himself.

"Go ahead and touch me," Emily instructed.

"You don't mind?" he asked.

"Not at all," she confirmed and I could now see him moving his hand towards Emily's belly.

"You can also take more of her," Emily encouraged.

Bill seized the opportunity and started to cup Emily's breasts. She reciprocated, reaching for his chest. They then kissed. Astrid decided to join in, leaning over to embrace both of them. I lifted my hips up, aligning my penis with Emily's pussy, and thrust myself into her. Despite her not reaching orgasm yet, she was moist, making the fit snug, lubricated, and pleasurable.

Emily giggled when we met orgasmically. "This feels much better than what it used to feel like," she stated.

She moved her hands to my shoulders, then spread her legs apart for more room for me. Emily and I embraced as we made love, ensuring we didn't stop until she begged for a respite.

Once her peak had passed, Emily wanted to change her position so she asked me to lie next to Bill on the bed and she mounted me 'cowboy' style. There, Bill and I were treated to the sight of each girl riding her respective partner, kissing and fondling each other.

I was unsure if this was the usual Emily or if she was trying out for Bill's mistress role. To be honest, I didn't really mind. I was just glad to be part of the experience.

I hadn't seen it, but Emily had massaged Bill's testicles while Astrid was having her way with him. Bill struggled for a second before overpowering Astrid for some forceful thrusts until he reached climax.

"Was that good?" Astrid asked, unnecessarily.

"Mmhmm yes," Bill replied.

"I think I may have assisted a little there," she chuckled, kissing Emily.

"Would you like me to lick you out?" Emily inquired. "Steven can penetrate me while I do it."

Astrid didn't respond, just moved off Bill and lay down on the bed beside him. I stepped off the bed to allow them some space. Once they were in the right position, I knelt behind Emily and started fucking her doggy style, similar to the night before when I'd had Astrid in the same position.

Bill now served as a spectator, yet still in close proximity. He touched the women's bodies as Emily gave Astrid oral sex. I slowed down while Emily completed her task then made up for it afterward. Emily held Astrid steady so she could endure my vigorous thrusts.

I slammed into Emily as hard as I could and gripped her hips tightly enough to leave finger imprints. I appreciated the intense workout and satisfaction from the doggy style position, eventually releasing myself into Emily in a climax of movements.

Emily wanted more attention, "Who wants to lick me?"

It was an offer directed towards Bill, but he allowed Emily to straddle his face and savor the contents of Astrid's pussy. While they were heating up, Astrid and I cuddled. When Ivan had finished licking her out, he couldn't resist continuing with his mouth on Emily's clitoris, bringing her to orgasm.

As we prepared to tidy up in the en suite bathroom, women began putting their dresses back on in anticipation of the journey home. The living room was filled with couples either talking or cuddling.

Around midnight, the ladies started retrieving their dresses to get ready.

"Did you enjoy yourselves?" Lesley inquired of Emily and me.

"I did," I responded.

"It was a lot of fun," Emily assured.

It was possible to slip away for a second liaison before the midnight deadline, but most couples preferred to socialize or cuddle in the living room. When it was almost 12, women began swapping their lingerie for their dresses.

I had a fantastic time at the party. It was my favorite variety. Getting to bed with someone I'd never met before. As we said our goodbyes to Emily and Dan, Lesley handed Dan a card with our home address. We'd made these cards when we'd moved into our home but we liked the concept so much we ordered more.

"In case you're ever in London," she explained.

"We don't have anything like that," Dan said. "We'll send you ours instead."

"Thank you for a memorable night." I told Emily.

"It was a delight," she agreed playfully. "And thanks for the advice earlier."

"Yes," Lesley said, "What did you tell her?"

"I simply reminded her of the benefits of older men," Lesley explained. "I myself have an older boyfriend in the UK."

"And I mentioned that Daniel treats me like a princess," I added.

"It's true." Astrid confirmed. "Remember, when we first met, Daniel flew Lesley to New York and bought her a Tiffany bracelet."

"Oh yes," Lesley smugly responded.

When it came time to leave, Bill and Alison followed us out to the car.

"Thank you for a great evening," Astrid thanked Alison.

"It was so wonderful seeing you again," Alison replied with a hug. To Lesley and me, she added, "And thank you for helping Emily."

"What did you tell her?" Bill asked.

"I just mentioned the perks of being in a relationship with an older man," Lesley shared. "And I told her that Daniel treats me like a queen."

"Assuming she's into it," Bill clarified.

"Oh, she's definitely into it," Lesley verified.

I drove the Wagoneer back to the ranch on a starlit night. The sky was filled with countless stars - more than I'd ever seen before...

To be continued...

Read also:

• Ruthie's Dedication and Zeal
• Love and Truth Aid in Rescue Mission
• Liberty Joins the Festivities
• Chapter 4 of the Game They Played