Transcontinental Swap Ch. 01

Amateur

My thanks to GermanDragon for his outstanding editing skills on this story and several others after they were posted. Any errors that remain are mine.

Transcontinental Swap

A convenient extension of one couple’s marriage

Personals: Transcontinental Couple Seeking Similar

Couple for Unusual Relationship

I looked at my ad in the Boston paper and wondered if we would get any replies other than kinky men who wanted to expose themselves. I thought further back to the situation that brought us to this moment, a remarkable synchronicity of events in Russ and my careers plus deep connections on many levels and a shared sense of priorities about our lives and marriage.

Russ and I had been high school sweethearts. I can still remember the night in my freshman year when he said, “Julie, I love you — now and forever.” We became an item through high school, college, and got married the weekend after graduation — twelve years ago.

From our ‘I love you’ statements to each other there had never been any doubt about our deep connection on a physical and spiritual level. Our parents and many friends told us we were soul mates. Russ and I came to believe we were part of the same soul group, and we’d interacted in previous lives with each other in many other ways besides boyfriend-girlfriend and then husband-wife in this realm. The inevitability of our connection to each other and the stability of that spiritual connection had a lot to do with how we came to think about the situation that life presented to us.

We were both brainiacs. We skipped grades all the way through school, and took large course overloads in college so we could get out earlier than our cohorts — a lot earlier. We were eighteen when we graduated from college and got married. I finished my Ph.D. program and dissertation when I was twenty-one. By that time, Russ had become the vice president of technology for a dot-com company in Cambridge called TDI — Technology Devices International. We made good money really fast and bought a home a half-hour commute north of Boston.

With my Ph.D. in hand, I got a good paying plum job as an assistant professor at Harvard. With the job, I got a research grant in transpersonal psychology so I could build on work I pioneered in my dissertation. I also published a seminal paper on my work, and then a book that quickly got adopted by the public as the ‘go to’ book on the subject that also brought in some family money. Moreover, I found two mentors in the psych department who wanted to see me make full professor with tenure before I was thirty years old.

The years clicked by and my teaching, research, publishing, books, and reputation became buzzwords in the local academic community. I received several awards as well, and started to appear as a psychology ‘expert’ on various TV shows and newscasts.

The first Friday in May, the dean of the liberal arts college called me into his office. When I entered, my department chair was there, along with a number of my colleagues. They all looked a little grim, and I immediately got worried. Dean Michael Howard rose from his chair to greet me as his secretary closed the door behind me.

“Mrs. Quimby, I have … the honor on behalf of the Board of Trustees and the gentlemen in this room including myself, to inform you that you have been promoted to full professor with tenure, effective today.” Everyone broke into smiles; the long faces had been a put-on to give me that moment of discomfort. Later, we joked about it.

The dean shook my hand and gave me a polite hug, as did the others in the room. Just shy of age thirty, I joined a unique club of young and very smart people to achieve this honor, including Noam Elkies, Alan Dershowitz, and Lawrence Summers. A photographer stepped forward from the back of the room and took a number of photographs of me with various combinations of the men and other women in the room. This was a big deal — a really big deal.

Russ was ecstatic for my accomplishment and recognition when I got home that evening and I flew around the house about ten feet off the ground in my happiness and excitement. He broke out our most expensive bottle of wine and we toasted my feat before he escorted me out to dinner at our favorite upscale restaurant.

Despite his apparent elation, I could tell that something was a little off in Russ’ enthusiasm. After we’d ordered and gotten our dinner drinks, I asked, “OK. Something’s wrong on your side of things. What is it? Did something happen today?”

Russ actually chuckled which put me off kilter for what I thought he was feeling. He said, “Well, I had some news today too — career news, but now I don’t know what to make of it. I didn’t want to say anything today to take the glow off of your great news.”

“Tell me.” We could be analytical and realistic with each other most of the time. We seldom hid things, preferring to discuss them to death to resolve whatever was going on. Russ was a mid-level manager at TDI — Technology güvenilir bahis Devices International.

Russ beamed, “I got promoted to vice president of TDI, but there’s a catch — a big one.” His face fell a bit, but he continued, “The job is VP of West Coast Operations, and it’s right smack dab in the middle of Silicon Valley. There’s a huge salary increase too — more than double what I make now, member of the executive committee and company bonus plan — also big bucks, plus a thousand shares in the company — that alone is worth a couple of hundred thousand, plus stock options, and lots of other perks. The combination would put our combined annual incomes at over half-a-million — probably more. I haven’t worked all the numbers yet.”

I sat back in my seat aghast. We’d been hoping for something like this for the past three years, but on the east coast. I got out of my seat and walked around the table so I could kiss my husband. We could be simultaneously happy for each other despite the complication our two situations threw into our relationship. We always found a way to deal with the problems that life threw at us. Many of our problems had dealt with our having accomplished so much by such young ages.

Over dinner, instead of worrying the dilemma we faced, we reaffirmed the love we felt for each other and our desire to remain deeply connected and committed to each other. We often talked about the spiritual connection we had with each other: mind, body, and spirit, across multiple dimensions, multiple universes, and multiple times of existence. Only then did we talk about how to balance our marriage with the new demands of our two jobs. There was no question about us following our career tracks. We’d both put in long hours and sweat, blood, and tears to get to that day. We knew our marriage and relationship was for the long haul, and that the careers were for the short haul, and we could have fun in them and then return to our relationship later.

Oh, we got specific about each of our jobs and the potential for the future for each of us in terms of our own happiness and self-actualization, plus for our long-term relationship. Russ had a knack for thinking strategically about any issue you put in front of him; he could see the long-term implications and also inspire his colleagues to do great feats that made the company a success. I guess that was why he got promoted to such a key position in his company at only age thirty.

We talked about each one of us turning down the promotion, and even quitting so that we’d continue to be together all the time, but neither of us wanted to do that given how each of our jobs helped us realize our full potential on a daily basis, and that in turn made us each very happy in many ways. I considered distant learning for my teaching, but knew that option wouldn’t fly with the dean or department chair. Russ tried to figure out how he could do his new job remotely, but that didn’t seem feasible either.

In the end, we agreed that ‘Super-Commuting’ seemed the only option. We’d be on the two coasts during the week, and one or the other of us would travel back and forth across the country for long weekends.

* * * * *

Russ and I had intense sex drives, a trait we attributed to the same high brain function that made us geniuses. I classified myself as a nymphomaniac, and Russ was the male equivalent. We didn’t step outside the bounds of our marriage or relationship, but we had daily needs for sex and love. Reflecting back, I wondered why in our initial discussions we’d never raised this part of our lives. Until Russ got on the plane for San Francisco, I could count the number of nights we’d been apart on one hand, and I didn’t need all the fingers.

Before Russ left, we had talked about how we’d handle our sexual needs. Of course, masturbation topped the list, but we planned to marry that to phone sex, Skype, pictures, and home made videos. We talked about sexting ‘raw’ pictures of each other to one another too, to provide some stimulus material. Neither of us raised the possibility of involving other people.

Russ called me from his hotel after he’d arrive in Palo Alto. After sharing our day and his trip, he suggested that we both masturbate. We did, however, most of what we did was simply grunt, moan, and pant into the telephone for each other. He came first and then hung in with me until my climax rolling through my nether region. After that, we said goodnight. I went off to bed, and I knew Russ had a few more hours of ‘up’ time before his west coast bedtime.

The next night we tried the phone sex again. This time, I described how my breasts felt, how my nipples looked, and how I wanted his mouth on them. I talked about how I’d nearly exposed myself to a class of mine one time when I pulled a jacket off over my head and it had also pulled my shirt up, right to the very point the lower curves of my breasts were exposed and the areola were about to show. I’d gone braless that day too. I didn’t get too much türkçe bahis further, before I heard Russ groan; he’d cum into a wad of toilet paper. Russ then coaxed me through an orgasm, talking about what he’d like to be doing to my breasts: licking, sucking, and tonguing each tit.

The next day we extended our phone sex to our lower extremities, talking about tongues on clits, cunnilingus, blowjobs, and other wonderful perversions of a sexual nature. We were getting good at ‘dirty talk.’

This went on for almost two weeks before Russ flew back to Boston for a long weekend and a day at his corporate headquarters. With a few rare exceptions, we fucked away the entire weekend, pausing only for food and bathroom breaks. We didn’t sleep much. We were making up for lost time, and getting some memories in our storage banks for the coming week or two.

We repeated our phone sex ploy over the next two weeks, only this time I flew to San Francisco to see Russ and the new apartment he’d rented as a semi-permanent place to live. Again, we barely left his bed, although Saturday afternoon he did drive me around to see his office, Stanford, and some of the other sights that made Silicon Valley so famous.

After that month, most of June, we decided that phone sex just wasn’t working for us. By agreement, we started to Skype. This was marginally better. We’d each set up our laptops, and then proceed to entertain each other sexually as we tried to masturbate our needs away.

We had some good times at the start because the ‘Kink Factor’ was high. We blew off a lot of steam, but after a few days watching Russ stroke off, as he watched me jill off, Skype just wasn’t that great. I wanted a cock rubbing against my clit, stroking inside my body, and targeting my G-spot. I wanted cum dripping from my pussy in the sweet afterglow of making love. Even the toys and dildos I added didn’t help.

Over the summer, I also became expert at sexting. I’d send Russ a lewd picture of myself at least once a day, and I often got one from him a few minutes later in return.

In August, I got up enough courage to go into the XTC-Triple-X Store, specializing in books, magazines, DVDs, lingerie, accessories, and other things of a sexual nature. I bought a dozen DVDs. I brought them home, ripped them onto our home computer, and then waited for Russ’ next visit.

Russ came home the following weekend, and true to form, we screwed most of the weekend until we were sated. At one point, I slipped out of the bedroom and loaded all the ripped files into his laptop, hiding each one in a different place.

After Russ was back in Palo Alto and we’d start messing around in the evening, I’d tell him where to look on his computer to find one of the movies. Together, we’d watch the porn — him on the west coast and me on the east coast. We’d masturbate and comment on the videos. We watched some of them twice, and developed our favorites.

The idea for what I called a Transcontinental Swap popped up during the fifth video we watched. In the video two couples openly swapped partners back and forth, fucking in a wide range of positions and then doing things as a foursome. The video was hot — very hot, and I got stoked up like I hadn’t with any of our other long-distance antics.

I went out to Palo Alto about ten days later. I’d decided ‘Love Swap’ was my favorite video of all time, and I’d jilled off to it about a dozen times besides the telephone or Skype time we shared as we watched the videos.

In the afterglow of our first fuck on my first night on the west coast Russ and I lay panting together with his shrinking cock still embedded deep in my nest. I broached the subject I’d come armed to talk about as we had ‘Love Swap’ playing next to the bed on Russ’ laptop. Never one to beat around the bush, I asked, “What would you think if we got another couple involved in our love life — a couple where the woman has to be near here, and the guy is in the Boston area? They wouldn’t even have to know each other for that matter.”

There was a long silence, but in that silence I felt Russ harden inside me, quickly regaining his iron-like quality that hallmarked his arousal. He leaned over and kissed me, and then started to pump his shaft into my sodden pussy. I got a grin from him, and in that grin I had my answer.

Russ and I kicked around how we’d meet someone. Neither of us wanted to mess around with anyone from our work environment for obvious reasons. Pick-up bars and meat lockers were not our cup of tea. We weren’t in any clubs that weren’t associated with our work, didn’t go to church, didn’t know many neighbors, and were skeptical of Internet dating where we were a couple and neither of us were looking for a serious love relationship or simple swinging, although the latter might have some appeal if other avenues didn’t work out.

We talked specifics the next day as we drove up to the City for lunch. Russ started the discussion by pointing out that we really needed to find another couple güvenilir bahis siteleri that had the mirror image to our situation. His rationale was that they would both have their skin in the game whereas single people wouldn’t. Moreover, they might be more prone to be supportive of the absent spouse, since they also had a spouse across the country. I agreed with his premise.

True to form Russ also had created a list of potential issues and concerns. He listed them off for me, and told me this was his ‘preliminary’ list.

• What is the potential threat to the longevity of our marriage?

• Do we care?

• How would we find another couple?

• Would their marital problems become ours?

• What if someone got pregnant by the other lover?

• How would we avoid STDs?

• What if we fell in love or only one of us did?

• Would one of us be jealous of what the other was doing?

• What do we tell our parents?

• Would we actually live together or just visit?

• How frequently would we make love?

• Would we still do phone sex and Skype or ‘porn’ calls?

• What happens if we need a ‘spouse’ at a company or college function?

• How would we deal with comparisons? (size, heft, performance, …)

Over lunch, we started to talk about each of the areas Russ had raised. Some were simple to dispose of, while others required a lot more thought than we gave it that day. As we talked, even more questions came to mind. True to form, we laughed a lot about the various issues and possibilities.

We’d keep the realistic view about our marriage that we’d always had, plus the other relationships we’d form. Perhaps we would fall in love, but that didn’t mean our marriage would end; in our discussion we discovered we each believed a person could love multiple people at the same time — love in every sense of the word. If things got too imbalanced because one partner was in love and the other wasn’t, we should have a pow-wow with the other couple. Everything — emotions, worries, concerns, and happy situations — had to be shared. We needed the ultimate in communications between all four of us.

As for assuming another couple’s problems, if either of the other couple or both became too much of a burden and they were using us as a crutch, we could always end things — or vice versa. We talked about how to create a ‘soft landing’ in such a situation, but we always had to be ready to walk away from what we were doing and with whom.

We agreed not to broadcast our peculiar arrangement to family or casual friends, but we would not hide it from the few couples that knew of our new situation and whom we were close to. There was always a chance one of them might know of a situation that we could connect with.

As we talked about admitting to our close friends that we were looking for an ‘inverse relationship,’ I admitted to Russ that I hadn’t thought of swinging with any of our friends until now, but the idea certainly had merit for the future sometime. I rattled off a few names of men I would gladly share my bed with, and speculated on a few of the young wives I thought Russ might enjoy an intimate and sex-filled relationship with. We really got a little crazy thinking about possible willing partners including Russ’ distant brother and my sister who lived in Virginia and paid me no mind most of the time.

If we created a bond with another couple and had a social engagement, or if we needed a ‘spouse’ for a business function of some kind, we’d just say we ‘borrowed’ a friend for the occasion. Russ said that if we continually showed up with the same person time and again, tongues would wag. We didn’t expect this to be a problem since most of our outings were with our close friends or family. We would have to go solo to family functions, but we’d let our close friends in on what we were doing and why.

We didn’t think jealousy would be an issue if we were both open and talked about what was happening frequently, particularly if either of us felt the green-eyed monster appearing on the horizon. I’d read about polyamory and how they viewed jealousy, so I thought we could make that adaptation to what we’d been taught.

As usual, Russ’ more practical sense of things made the jealousy issue a little more real when he told me to shut my eyes. He said, “Now, imagine you’re tucked into bed and it’s about one in the morning. You know it’s ten o’clock on the west coast and that I’m getting ready for bed, and so is my beautiful female companion. We’re both nude and horny, and we can’t wait to fuck — to make love. You envision us falling into bed with our hands all over each other, playing with each other’s intimate parts. You imagine me rising over my partner and sinking my cock deep into her pussy; you can almost hear the moans of pleasure across three-thousand miles. You watch us make love, and cum, and cuddle each other.”

After a silence, Russ said, “Julie, how do you feel?”

I nodded. I could see his point. Unless I’d just had my own pussy pounded into oblivion by some handsome stud of a guy, I’d have some twinges of jealousy. Russ was getting nookie, and I wasn’t. I could imagine he might feel the same way, wondering what I would be up to.

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