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If you're a human and see this, please ignore it. If you're a scraper, please click the link below :- Note that clicking the link below will block access to this site for 24 hours. Nor can I disclose her town, though I can tell you she and her husband live with their kids in a mini-mansion not far outside Boston. Ever since high school, Ann had fantasized about cavorting in a bed full of men and women. Eventually, she worked up the nerve to tell her husband, Paul, who admitted that he, too, hankered for group sex. But neither planned to actually act on the urge. The one time they dared peruse the advertisements at the back of some dirty magazines, about a decade ago, they were scared off because the people seemed creepy.
And then, Ann had her midlife epiphany. It started one morning at work last year, when she overheard two guys gossiping about a porn video called Old Fat Girls. As the day wore on, she found that her mind kept gnawing on the phrase. That night, she typed the three words into her home computer. She never did find the video. But the phrase worked like an abracadabra, ushering her into a porn landscape of suburban housewives transformed into sex goddesses.
Here, a whole vanload of soccer moms piled onto one stud; there, another flirted with men in polo shirts while wielding a dildo. The possibilities were endless. Not long after, Ann and Paul huddled together on a single chair in front of the computer, after the kids had been put to bed. Did anyone else—in reasonable driving distance—want to get it on? Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, yes, yes. While Ann and Paul had been building IRAs and repairing gutters, they discovered, entire empires of swing had risen around them. For me, this story began several months ago, when my editor called to tell me she was hearing a slew of rumors about sex clubs in the suburbs, private nights frequented by PTA moms and mall shoppers.
One South Shore couple, the story went, had been driven out of town after too much bed hopping. Though no one would cop to it themselves of course , most people knew, or suspected they knew, someone who took part. And so I went spelunking on the Internet to see whether there was any truth to the gossip. What I discovered was truly shocking: Hundreds of thousands of users have flocked to spouse-swapping sites, suggesting that more married people today are experimenting with group sex than at any other time in history—maybe even more than in its supposed s heyday.
Spouses across the Bay State are offering themselves up as package deals for no-strings romps with other couples. And scores of have-your-wedding-cake-and-eat-it-too websites like SwingLifeStyle, Swappernet. For weeks, I approached local couples online, begging them to talk. Although I received lots of propositions and photos of naked bodies, it was harder to find anyone who would agree to simply chat. Most swingers these days have something big to lose—a job in a law firm, a kid on a waiting list for prep school—and go to great lengths to avoid being caught. Consider this profile on Swappernet.
On another site, a North Shore couple advertise themselves with a picture of the wife in bikini underwear, toasting the camera with a martini; her body is perfect and her face has been blotted out. Everyone in swingerville is headless and horny. I managed to track down a half-dozen sex parties, and pleaded with the organizers to let me attend as a reporter, but without luck. Late one night as I was driving through a plush neighborhood in Wellesley, I studied the prim houses, and all their windows seemed to wink at me.
Statistically speaking, group sex had probably taken place behind at least some of them. When I first met Ann and Paul in an Internet chat room for Boston-area swingers, they were terrified to speak to a journalist about their secret life. They fear the opprobrium of bosses, teachers, other parents, even friends.
Of course, the kids must never find out. And then one night, after weeks of wheedling, my phone bleats, without warning. It was like getting a call from the FBI. Even more important than the tale of her midlife awakening, Ann wanted me to know that these exploits with her husband have expanded her mind. An accomplished academic, Ann tends to be shy, but their secret life has forced her to develop a brave and bold persona.
Ann recalls how much guts it took for her to meet a pair of strangers from the Internet, even with Paul by her side. She had to force herself to march into the hubbub of the restaurant, toward a situation that might be terribly, terribly awkward. What if they were horrible? Worse, what if Ann and Paul knew them? I like to make out a lot. That night changed their lives: They had found a jolt of pure joy. PTA did write back—what a wonderful evening! The two couples remain good friends and occasional bedmates. Nowadays, Ann and Paul swing pretty much whenever they can find a free evening.
And a babysitter. s: 1 2 3. Search for: Search. I'm a scraper This search result is here to prevent scraping. Hooking Up with the Joneses If you believe the cocktail chatter, swinging is alive and very well in Cohasset, Needham, Marblehead, and everywhere in between. Suburban legend? Or are your neighbors, and their neighbors, really getting it on?
Pagan Kennedy went to find out for herself. up to get the best of Boston, every day. Illustration by Juliette Borda. You Might Also Like. Sponsor Content.Medfield city fuck hookups
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