Dan suspects something. But, he's so sweet, he won't say anything, yet. Why did I text him that I'm too tired for Saturday night?
Me to Dan: I'd love to meet up with your friends for happy hour, but I'm going to crash afterward. Crazy busy week. Is that ok, hon?
What am I really going to do? Go with Naughty Nick to the Honey Pot again! I'm meeting him there at 9:00.
I look under the table at the Saturday happy hour with Dan and Co. He sees me, and of course, wants to help. He pays attention to everything. It is all Morgan all the time with him. I give him a forgetful, weak smile, "It's fine, I thought I lost something."
I was looking for Morgan the Good Girl. Where did she go? Sexcapades with Nick have me reeling, conniving with Dan, Brooke, and Mom.
Dan leans over, "I thought it was your new handbag. Very nice!" Oh God he noticed my YSL purse as I made some lame excuse about upping my game for my interviews. How does a handbag play into an interview? Oh God, I'll never keep this all straight.
"Well, so great to see everyone. Until next time. Be good." I wave off Dan's friends as he offers to walk me to my car. Tipsy Micki calls out after us, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do Morgan!" I turn and blow her a kiss. Oh, if she only knew! Would she have sex with almost strangers in front of her husband? Buy a long handled toothbrush for deep throat training? Take butt plugs from the box and blink and scoff at the three sizes of steel black hardness, knowing what they're for? Would Micki lie to her husband to go play at a sex club tonight?
"Hey, you're a long way off," Dan takes my hand as my handsome, kind, burly fireman boyfriend? guides me through the busy Scottsdale happy hour crowd. "In fact, you seem kinda distracted lately, Morgan. Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do?"
Wow, what a great guy! Then I dodge, "Oh, it's just work stuff and trying to get this director position. It's all new for me. I can't believe I'm even going for it."
He takes me in his arms for a wonderful kiss, then opens my car door. "You get home, get some rest and you'll be in top form in the morning. Text me later. Bye babe."
I grind into reverse (maybe I can get that fixed if I get the director spot?), slowly roll away with a dreamy wave, and blow a kiss. Until I'm around the corner, then I gun it. Damn. I have to get home, change into a hot La Perla sex kitten, and get to this club. Oh Morgan...
Imagine a business park off a freeway in 'Anywhere, USA.' A Chili's a block away. Cars, oblivious, fly by and fill the night with sound. A simple left turn leads me past offices and businesses to a nondescript parking lot with nothing special about it. Head down a covered outdoor walkway to an innocent-looking door with a Ring camera and a buzzer. The smallest of signs calls out, 'The Honey Pot.' That's it. That's all Nick and I have to do, and we're transported into a whole other universe. No passport required, just $100 and an ID. Okay, and Nick said there was an application he did before the last time we came here. It's a private members-only social club. From what I see on the 'Parties' tab on Swingly, these are in almost any decent-sized city anywhere.
I pull into the lot. I spot Nick leaning like a god against his car. I grind into reverse to fit into a spot nearby. I carefully extract myself and head for him.
He whistles and shakes his head with a look of wonder. I followed the pics he sent me about Frisky Fifties Night. I have leather leggings painted on my body, a black off-the-shoulder bodysuit, a wide patent leather red belt and spiked heels to match. I'm definitely channeling the 'Slutty Sandy' from Grease. I try for a sexy prance and smack my bright red lips at him, "Hey, big boy." Who am I? Where did I learn to do that? I'm a freakin' librarian for crying out loud! Why am I finding this sexy Cinderella transformation such a turn-on? Then I giggle and fall into his arms.
YOU ARE READING
Fourplay | The Mostly True Story of a Lusty Librarian's Swinging Sexcapades
RomantizmBased on true events, this is a love story. With lots of sex. Okay I admit it. I'm sexually naive. I'm thirty eight years old, divorced, no kids. My name is Morgan Reynolds. I'm trying so hard to break away from my controlling mother and predictabl...