Fränzi and I are now of retirement age and will soon be celebrating our golden wedding anniversary. In 1968 I was 27 and Fränzi was 22, and we had only been married for two years. At that time there were German sex magazines in Switzerland, but as a civil servant I would not have dared to buy them. I would go to the hairdresser half an hour before my appointment, put one of the sex magazines there in the respectable “Schweizer Illustrierte” and read with a little envy what our neighbors had. Partner swapping, group sex, party games, spin the bottle and much more. You can perhaps understand me, because at that time the last criminal proceedings for pimping against room landlords were initiated in this country just because the tenant took a girl to his room. And that was even in the city of Vevey, which was then ruled by communists (what a disgrace)!
I told Fränzi about these magazines, whereupon she cheekily drove to the nearest big city and picked up a few of the papers. We discussed it and both agreed that while it might be nice, it would be infidelity and could possibly destroy our marriage. As I said, it happened in 1968. We were on a deserted beach in Istria. I watched with interest as a sailing boat ran aground on the sand near our motorboat. The two occupants were completely naked and perfectly tanned. They got out diving equipment, carried it to the beach, got it ready for use and tested it in the water. It bubbled, but not from the regulator, but from the valve connection. I watched the woman. She was an absolute classy woman, about 3 years older than me, seemed funny and at first laughed happily at the bubbling.
But then she looked a little sad because they obviously didn’t have any spare parts for the diving equipment. The man was at least 15 years older than me, very good-looking, athletic and muscular. He seemed annoyed now. I later found out that he was a detective inspector in a German city and he looked like a well-educated cop, elegant, well-proportioned and strong. I almost automatically looked over at Fränzi and saw that she was watching him with narrowed eyes and interest. I’m sure I’m relatively well-built for an office worker, but next to this man I felt a little shabby. But I immediately calmed myself down, the guy was much too old for my Fränzi. So I strolled over to my motorboat, picked out a suitable O-ring seal for the diving equipment from the spare parts package and brought it to the two of them without saying a word.
“Do you speak German?” asked the man. “Yes, but only the rough High German of the Swiss.” He smiled: “It’s OK, thanks for the sealing ring, my girlfriend was so looking forward to her first dive.” I asked a little cheekily: “Is the new nudist campsite really as nice as it says in the guides?”. Again he smiled: “Yes, but the fact that the fat women in the shop were rubbing their naked saggy tits over the tomatoes bothered us, so we switched to the normal campsite today. We saw you arrive when we were taking the sailboat out of the water. We are very close to you on the campsite. I’m inviting you to an aperitif at 5 o’clock today and then to dinner.” Now I was perplexed. The two of them dived, but I had the impression that he didn’t have much diving experience and that they had no diving experience at all.
We actually found them both at 5 a.m. not far from our tent. We soon got to know each other over a Slibowitz, the Yugoslavian plum schnapps. His name was Bernd (and not Tarzan, as I had secretly called him). Her name was Uschi, she was similar to my wife in many ways, but she was more self-confident and had more life experience. At some point Fränzi told her that she only knew Germany from magazines, but that people there were definitely not as uptight as in Switzerland. Bernd looked at her questioningly and she told the story about secretly reading German sex magazines at the hairdresser. After a hearty laugh, a new topic of conversation was found. We soon realized that the two of them had been having an affair with a much older couple in Germany and were now attracted to us, a young couple.
I was starting to get agitated because Fränzi looked at Bernd in such a way that I became really jealous. In short, after dinner and a few coffees with Slivovitz, the four of us somehow ended up on their air mattresses. Uschi tried very hard with me, but I could only watch my wife. It was terrible how she snuggled up to Bernd in the semi-darkness, how her stomach began to work as he caressed her, how he reached under her clothes, how he slowly undressed her, how she kissed him, how she sucked him as he licked her (she had never done that to me before because I had never licked her) and how she moaned as he penetrated her. Her intensity was scary to me. How she clung to him with her legs, how she almost tied him up with her arms and then stretched her arms straight as if in a convulsion, only to pull him towards her again straight away.
And hearing her moaning and her quiet cries of delight. But the worst thing was when they both came at the same time. I’ve never seen my wife like that before. She looked like a small, happy child, just stammering and kissing Bernd’s whole body. Next to Bernd, I was a complete failure. That really hit me hard. Uschi had also started to undress me, but then let go of me. She just stroked me tenderly and soothingly. It was no use. I started to call Fränzi, my own wife, a whore. It was horrible. Fränzi cried, she had done it for me too, but it had been so nice. Was she only allowed to swap partners, which she didn’t like? I snapped at her, “do things with him that you’ve never done to me before. What does he have that I don’t have? Bernd could be your father, shame on you.”
Suddenly Uschi laughed out loud. “It’s wonderful how you men can be jealous, Bernd was jealous at first too. And forget your inferiority complex, you don’t need it. We’re just a bit older and have a lot more experience.” And Bernd said with a certain sharpness in his voice: “Never call your wife a whore again, and never use the word whore as a swear word again. If you lose Fränzi, you won’t find anyone else like her. Then you’ll end up with a whore and realize that many of them are more like social workers for uptight men. Your jealousy is terrible. I could tell you hundreds of senseless and tragic jealousy dramas from my job.” The next day Bernd offered to change his pitch at the campsite, but he would have liked to learn to dive better with me.
I don’t remember what was going on inside me, but I let myself be persuaded to do diving training with the two of them on the sailing boat. Fränzi stayed behind on the campsite alone; Bernd had probably advised her to do so. On the boat, Uschi told me how it had gone for her the first time. Their relationship had already become somewhat routine and the new, older partner from her current relationship was for her the impetuous repetition of a childhood love. Now they had found a younger couple in us, and that would be even better if I weren’t so jealous. She wanted to show that it could be a totally new experience for me too. She took off my swimming trunks, put my cock in her mouth and started to suck it, a completely new experience for me. I soon noticed that I was about to come and I tried to pull my cock out of her mouth.
She stopped me with a smile, I finally came in her mouth and she swallowed my semen with a triumphant smile. Now I had something that I had never experienced with my wife before. Then Bernd came and said that my Fränzi was great, but still quite inexperienced. Together we could turn her into a superwoman, a dream for every man. We made dinner together again, this time at our place. Bernd showed understanding for my jealousy towards Fränzi and said that I had of course been taken by surprise and left out, and that I simply had to get involved. Finally we ended up on the air mattresses again. Bernd and I undressed Fränzi together. Bernd penetrated Fränzi in the side position, I lay snuggled up against her back and cupped or caressed her breasts. Bernd then guided my penis to Fränzi’s anus.
She made every effort to include me and slowly and carefully inserted the penis from behind. And then Bernd and I started to finish Fränzi off. I kept feeling Bernd’s cock through her intestines, which was even more exciting. It got crazier and crazier, but Fränzi was the craziest. I’ve never seen her so active before, and this time I was involved too. No trace of jealousy, it was wonderful. All three of us climaxed almost at the same time and then lay there, in love and exhausted. Uschi had just watched. When we let go of Fränzi, she kissed Fränzi on the mouth and then on the vagina. Fränzi immediately became active again, and soon both women were lying on top of each other in the 69 position and licking each other to orgasm. Heavens, I never expected to see something like that. There was no jealousy here either.
On the third day, Gerd completed my sex course. There were four of us on the boat and Bernd told Fränzi that Uschi had given me a blowjob the day before until I came. On the other hand, I had never taken Uschi normally or from behind. I did the former straight away on the boat. She was just as active as Fränzi had been on the first evening with Bernd and I was completely happy. Fränzi took Bernd’s cock in her mouth without hesitation, gave him a good blowjob and finally swallowed his semen. In the evening, Bernd took my Fränzi and I took his Uschi anally. Then we swore that from now on we would be allowed to do whatever we wanted between us. It was the best vacation of my life. We dived, we sailed, we went waterskiing, we made love when we wanted, sometimes two women with one man, sometimes both men with one woman and occasionally the two women together.
This always took place in the boat during the day and in the evenings in the campsite, sometimes on the sand in a secluded bay. Fränzi soon became just as self-confident as Uschi, and I knew that I had the woman of my life, a woman who happily went along with everything without any fuss. It was wonderful, my jealousy was gone. It occasionally resurfaced later with other of Fränzi’s sexual partners, but only until we had definitely found each other to be equals. Yugoslavia had perfectly functioning surveillance at the time. If you snorkeled outside of the assigned diving areas, a police cutter would immediately come and check whether you had scuba gear or underwater cameras hanging under the outside of the boat so that you could handle and use them underwater. If waves came up, the same cutter would immediately come and ask whether it was safe to return to shore. A helicopter would circle over the boat you were using at least twice a day.
We have never done anything wrong, but on the fifth day of our holiday we had an idea. We waited until the police boat was near us before we started playing sex games, and then we really got started. It was almost like a real porn show, especially for our observers. I think after that we were the best-monitored water sports enthusiasts on the whole of the Adriatic. The sex was almost even better. The fact that we had spectators was an additional stimulant for all of us. Our German friends left before us. Before that I got really jealous again. We were helping our friends to take the sailboat out of the water when the harbour master came up to us. “Did you have a nice holiday?” he asked in his Austrian-accented German. “Yes, the best of our lives.” The harbour master looked at us questioningly: “I think so too.
We have monitored your diving and boating activities. Our boats are equipped with powerful and precise cameras. I insisted on going out with the patrol three times myself – it was worth it.” He looked at the two women almost lasciviously. “By the way: Tito has arrived on his holiday island over there.” We knew this and I told the harbour master that two days ago a guest at our campsite had illegally landed on the island and was ultimately brought back unmolested by the guards. The harbour master knew about this: “It could have gone wrong. We had just loaded the group of state police officers responsible for securing the island onto the cutter. They would have been able to see the whole thing with their binoculars. So we immediately showed you some film footage of you and instructed the guards to get the intruder away without being noticed during this time.
However, we then had to give all the film footage to Tito’s private secretary. Don’t worry, Tito doesn’t watch that kind of stuff.” Fränzi and Uschi give him a kiss. “You poor thing, are you getting the films back or did you at least have copies made for yourself beforehand?” The harbour master showed himself to be a gentleman. “Don’t worry, I’ve got them back because I can give more from other people almost every day. It seems to be becoming a new fashion trend. But your films will be something special to me for a long time, not least because of the kiss from earlier.” After that, Fränzi looked at me searchingly and asked if I would be jealous if the two women thanked the harbour master properly. Damn it, I lied when I said “No.”
Somehow Bert and I got the boat onto the trailer, but I was shaking and sweating and kept looking with concern and hatred at the building where the two women had disappeared with the harbor master. But suddenly I had to laugh. Bernd was just as nervous and worried as I was. The tension only eased for both of us when the women returned to us after a long time, heated and cocky, and even brought the films with them. Uschi’s comment: “He could be a really great man, but he’s still a bit uptight.”