Bill and Emma.

"Hey, come on in," I cheerfully welcomed Bill and Emma, stepping aside from the doorway to let them into the foyer.

"Hi Mike," Emma greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, a inauspicious pleasantry that have no indication to Bill that we had fucked a few hours earlier in a cheap motel. "I hope we're not overdressed."

I had to suppress a chuckle and a snarky comment that everyone would be naked in about an hour.

"You look great," I answered as I avoided staring at her humongous cleavage that her red cocktail dress poorly concealed. Bill patted me on the shoulder.

"Hi, guys," my wife yelled from the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready soon!"

"Dinner smells great," Bill yelled back before turning to me with a smirk. "I wish my wife can cook." He got a punch on the shoulder from Emma for that remark.

"I'll help Sam in the kitchen," Emma replied. "You boys can take it easy." She kissed her husband before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Do you want a beer?" I asked Bill.

"Sure or scotch if you have any."

"Of course I have some. Just follow me downstairs to my man cave," I chuckled.

Bill and I weren't best friends like our wives were -- we rarely hung out together, usually only when our wives got us together for a special dinner. We had very little in common -- I was a software engineer who enjoyed geeky things and he was a renovations contractor who loved muscle cars. But the two things we did enjoy were fucking our wives and liquor.

In my man cave was not only my home theater and PC gaming rig but a walnut bar and cabinet, fully stocked with a great selection of booze, with three stools. I proudly held up a bottle of scotch for Bill to examine. "Have you had this before? Bowmore’s 25 Year Old single malt."

"No, not at four hundred bucks a bottle."

"Now you can," I grinned while I grabbed two scotch glasses. "I only open this up for special occasions." I poured him a little bit so he could taste test.

"Thanks, man." He took a sip and paused to examine the flavor on his palate. "A bit fruity and syrupy sweetness. Still smoky."

"You like it?" I asked, motioning to pour him some more.

"Yes!" He pushed his glass towards me.

I poured the scotch for both of us and raised my glass. "To our beautiful wives!"

"To our beautiful wives! Cheers!" Bill tapped his glass against mine to join in the toast before we silently savored the Scottish whisky.

"More?" I offered, lifting up the bottle to pour.

"Not right now. We should save some space for dinner," Bill replied, shaking his head.

"...and dessert," I joked. Bill laughed at my innuendo of the entire point of the special dinner. Even though we had fucked each other's wife countless times in the past that night was a bit awkward -- I was intentionally trying to impregnate Emma while he fucked my pregnant wife. Neither of us would have come up with the idea but then again we didn't turn it down either when our wives suggested it. We both enjoyed having sex with each other's wife and knew this would be the last hurrah of our old swinging days before we had to become responsible parents in the suburbs.

"Hey, Mike, thanks again," Bill said, looking down into his glass, avoiding eye contact with me.

"No problem. The scotch is for special occasions like tonight."

"Yeah, about that," he paused to think of the next words to say before continuing, "I want to thank you for helping Emma out. She's been depressed lately..."

"Hey, I..."

"She still blames herself even though it's on me for my low sperm count and poor health."

"Bill..."

"Just promise me you won't tell anyone I'm not the father," he whispered. I suspected he felt less of a man for needing another man to fuck his gorgeous lingerie model wife to have a baby.

"Bill, I'll take the secret to my grave," I replied, extending my hand to shake. "Besides I don't want to pay for child support!"

He laughed and gave me a hug. "Thanks, man."

"Let's see if the girls have dinner ready," I suggested before things became even more emotionally awkward.

As Bill headed upstairs, I made sure all of the hidden security cameras around the house were recording.