It all started when my husband, Mr. Virile himself, began to have problems in the bedroom. Either he would lie there limp all night or if by chance he hardened up, off his load went usually before I could get my pussy lips wet on his forskin.

David, up to this time, had been a stud in the sack. His transformation into an unpredictable 60 second wonder put him into a deep depression and me into the role of guilty spouse who must be losing my sexual allure.

So I tried harder.

I started buying erotic outfits and went back to the Gym. I bought x-rated tapes. I stopped wearing panties and would flash him when we went out to dinner. I bought books on sexual positions and premature ejaculation. I damn well slutted up, toned up and made sexual innuendos whenever the chance arose.

All I ended up with was cum stained dress pants (his) from rubbing up against him in an elevator at his job. A ticket for indescent exposure for flashing my breasts while at Coney Island, unfortunately the lady in the next paddle boat was a born again prude and off duty State Trooper. And numerous nights in the bathroon vibrating myself to solo pleasure while he snoozed.

Something was wrong and I couldn't fix it. After two or three months of this he finally broached the subject from a truthful angle. He was continuously fantasizing about sex with other people and wanted to try it.

He wanted to swing.

I was speechless, but then I was desperate. I figured what the hell, I have done everything from fingering myself in a McDonalds to blowing him in a subway car...

"Shit, so what do you mean, other people?" I was horrified. Did hewant a divorce? Did he want to be able to fool around and me just accept it?

"No, I mean I want us to see other people.

"Fuck other people you me!"

"We would both be there, sort of." And he elaborated on a plan that he had been formulating for a very long time. "It's not like we would have to be apart or anything, I'm just thinking that it might spice up our marriage a little. We do it with other people at our home." That is when he showed me the spare bedroom and the six hidden cameras that were placed discreetly around the room. "We bring someone home and the other can watch from the computer in my office."

"What the hell," I thought, noticing the vaginal juices flowing as his idea was thought through in my head.

"We make Fridays my night to bring someone home and Saturday your night."

We started the next week, and after a month and a half of action I had six new sexual expereinces (which I will inform my readers about in a seperate letter) and dear old hubby was still out looking.

That's when the situation changed and my hubby got a new idea. It didn't turn out to be bad, I just wish he had let me in on his little added wrinkle.

It started when he came home on a Friday without a date, but with two old Frat brothers he had run into while carousing. I remember they both said hey and Eddie my dear husband poured us all drinks. When the hypnotic kicked in and I fell asleep I don't recall. What I do recall was the sight of the three of them standing over me, my hands cuffed to the bedposts and all three of them jostling around the bed (and me) pulling off clothing and getting ready to fuck me silly.

Web cams running, I remember Ted kneeling over me with an enormous erection tapping my nose, he touched it to my lips with his cock and the ............