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Picturing the married couples I know whose relationships are some degree of open, I couldn't help wondering if there's always one partner who'd rather be curled up in front of the TV than out trolling for strange, yet does the latter anyway, to please and hold onto their partner.

Depressed by Mike and Sheila's too-familiar dynamic, I urged James to leave them to their own devices and explore the rest of the club with me. It wasn't a big place, and it wasn't very crowded, but I was the youngest woman there by 20 years and I felt like I was being stared at.

At some point, he sidled up to me and confided in a low voice, “That woman Sheila's been talking to, she's all right, she's a cute girl.

But when I hugged her earlier, I wasn't feeling it. I'm not sure I'll be able to perform if we go into a private room with her and her husband.” I felt sorry for Mike, and a little disgusted that he had to pretend to like this sort of place.My first question was, "What are you going to tell your wife?" ### I could tell James was nervous when we met at the White Horse to pre-game.We were on our way to a sex club—the first time for both of us—and we knew it was going to be weird.It was Halloween, and James had brought along some cheap drugstore masks for us to wear. “You don't want these people to be able to see your face.” When he'd forwarded me our reservation the night before, I'd been alarmed by the house rules, which included things like, “Personal hygiene is of the utmost importance” and “No ALWAYS means no.” I wondered what kind of freaks would go to such a place, besides us.The club operates in the manner of a speakeasy—it's tucked away on the second floor of what appears from the outside to be a lighting store, and there are four levels: a coat-check and registration area, where James forked over for the two of us (it would have been 0 had he shown up alone; he got a discount for bringing me and there's no charge for single ladies); a bar/lounge area, where “bartenders” pour mixers and open people's wine bottles (the club doesn't have a liquor license); an area with couches and chairs for getting to know other club-goers, and, on the top level, an area with beds and curtains, for really getting to know them.

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