Sorry if this story rambles. I think there is a parable here without being all religious. And I’m sorry it’s not a story filled with filthy sex but read on if you like as it has other lesson in life other than how to do a good blow job or whatever. To set the scene Back in 2003 Mrs N and I had just got together. Still in our early 40s we were fit and healthy and playing at failrly regular intervals. Stuff we were doing was fun and fresh and we enjoyed trying things out. One of our dilemmas’s was meeting single males. Mrs N always prefers to meet couples. I was more up for MMF and occasionally we indulged. Still do now and again. The next dilemma was should we meet married guys. Having both been divorcees we weren’t quite sure if it was right or not but on one or two occasions we’ve thought, what the hell. As long as we’re discrete there’s no harm done and we rationalised it as helping the odd bloke who’s wife simply didn’t understand the sexual driving force most men have. So we met this guy after a chat in the SH chatroom. He seemed nice and genuine and explained his situation well and we could empathise with him. Besides we were feeling very horny and some naughty fun in our the back of our car appealed as we still had older teenagers living at home. I wont go on much about the meet. It was fun and he was lovely to talk too and we felt very comfortable.. At the time we were soft swingers so I am sure you can imagine the sort of pleasure the fella got without me going into graphical detail. I got my usual Kick out of Mrs N pleasuring another human being and they seemed to enjoy it too. It was just one of those casual meets and the meet was a success in our eyes. We occasionally had debates as to rights and wrongs of meeting attached and married guys since and I wouldn’t say we never did it again but generally we don’t ask anyway about peoples personal lives . We just don’t go out of our way to do it. 8 years later more or less to the day Mrs N hasn’t got the strongest back in the world and problems arose again last Friday with some extra duties at work giving her a horrible back ache once again. She was in great discomfort and we feared it might be something really bad. I resigned myself to the usual to and fro the GP, getting more and more pain killers as she tried to fight the awful pain that was coming over her. On Sunday night I decided to go in a chatroom for cuckolds and got chatting to a guy. We exchanged niceties and usual pervy things about what we liked and whether we were cucks or Bulls. I mentioned about Kim’s poorly back and he sounded really concerned and could see I was feeling a bit down about it. I’m a bit of heart on sleeve chap After a bit the chap at the other end suddenly typed. “ Did I meet you a few years back in the back of your car in a car park near Lichfield”. I thought. Who the hell is this. I didn’t have a clue who he was and was a bit taken aback. After we chatted about the details of the meet I realised who it was and then he announced another fact. He said he was a sports therapist and he could definitely help. I thought “ Oh yeah” and I’ve got a white beard and a red coat so I was initially very sceptical. But I don’t know why I just felt he was probably telling the truth. There again I am Mr Gullible By this time Mrs N had come into the room and could see the conversation thread. I was a bit concerned she wouldn’t even consider the help offered but I said let’s see if he is for real so she sat down at the keyboard and they chatted for about 15 or 20 mins about the problem. You could see he knew exactly what he was on about. The questions were so incisive. He just couldn’t be anything other than for real And so. It was agreed he should come round the following day and do a proper diagnosis and bring along some mobile therapy stuff he had to help ease the pain. (no it’s not what you are all thinking) No I’m sorry I’m not going to describe a filthy meet next LOL. Paul(not real name) was the perfect consultant and was really lovely and so reassuring and put some gadgetry on her to help ease the pain. The prognosis is good and the damage doesn’t appear to be too serious or lasting. So whats the moral of the tale. Well don’t always say no to attached men . Not all of us are lucky enough to attached to people we are entirely compatible with us in every thought. Who’d have thought some act of kindness 8 years ago would come back and pay us so richly. I am sure we’ll be seeing Paul again sometime. Even if we don’t it just goes to show that one goes round comes round eventually. It is a story with a very positive ending about swinging I guess.