Saturday, August 29, 2009
It was July. We had all come from completely different places. They were our age and apparently pretty wealthy. I’ll admit that it made me self-conscious. We’re not poor by any stretch of the imagination, but I’d never been around young people with that sort of money before. I don’t know what he did for a living. He may have earned it all himself. He may have inherited it. I don’t know. I know that she worked in retail, which is certainly respectable, but retail doesn’t pay like that. So the money was clearly coming from him, one way or another. They were both very nice people, incredibly gracious and generous. We went out for drinks with them and then followed their Jaguar back to their place. We relaxed in the Jacuzzi in their backyard and drank more. They told us all about their boat, how much fun it was, and how we should hang out with them on it in the future. We followed them upstairs to one of their guest rooms, all tense nerves in wet bathing suits. We stripped, and started. It was a little awkward. I was embarrassed and angry with myself for feeling that way. I struggled to force an erection and eventually succeeded. Self-consciousness is a motherfucker when you’re trying to get a hard-on. We swapped a little. The women went at it a bit. Eventually my wife and I finished each other off. They were still going strong. They were nakedly fucking, smelling of alcohol, sweat, and hot semen. They were completely committed to it, shaking the bed, and nearly the whole room with it. As it turns out, a doctor friend of his had hooked him up with some Viagra, which will allow you to cum, sustain your hard-on, and just keep fucking, endlessly. I was not chemically enhanced. It was awkward. The chemistry wasn’t right. It may have been my fault. We did it to do it, and for that reason, we just wanted to exit now. There were no bad feelings. There were just no feelings at all. As they were finishing, he asked my wife to shove a vibrator up his ass while he fucked his own wife. I’m sure he would have preferred that it was me and not a vibrator at all, as he had made allusions to that scenario earlier in the evening, but I was clearly spent. Just wanting it to end, my wife obliged, albeit a little reluctantly. We just wanted to get out of there. At around 3am, we left and found our way home safely. I felt terrible about it afterwards and I was frustrated that I had let my own internal bullshit compromise what should have been an incredible time.