The Politics Of Swinging

Things got very interesting over the last month. I blame it on the retrograde Mercury, but Mr. Vanessa doesnt believe in my astrology.

See, Mr. Vanessa was encouraging me to fulfill my fantasies sooner, rather than later. More than encouraging. Actively arranging. Pushing, even.

I was titillated, yes. Excited, definitely. That led down a very slippery slope that eventually resulted in us accepting an invitation to this weekends private monthly couples party in our little neck of the woods.

Long story short, lingerie was purchased. Condoms were ordered. Shoes (sexy, high-heeled shoes) were found. Toys were considered. Ground rules were discussed. Boundaries were stretched.

Then things came to a screeching halt. In the space of about 15 minutes things went from open marriage to do it and we divorce.

We opened Pandoras box and I peeked inside and liked what I saw. Very! Much! But my fingers were still on the edge of the box when the lid was unexpectedly slammed shut. Hard. And locked.

Yes, Im still reeling. Confused. Disappointed. Hurt.

I dont blame him. I dont blame me. I blame the Mercury retrograde.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled marital programming after a few words from our sponsors.

And sincere public apologies to A., a dear friend who didnt deserve to be led down that road, enticed, seduced, excited, liaison arranged-and-scuttled all in the same 15 minutes because of our folly. Im sorry. Thank you for being a good sport about it all.

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