If there was one moment when my life changed, it was probably the evening I walked in on my wife on her back on a Chesterfield sofa, with another guy shagging her brains out - and her there loving it.
I was 30. Marie and I had been married nine years. And it was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen.
I should explain. That evening, after answering an ad in a top shelf magazine, we'd gone to the home of a couple of married university lecturers - who were swingers.
We'd never done anything like it before. Marie and I were sexually adventurous but we'd got together as teenagers and had only ever been with each other. I'd only taken the magazine home - from the steel factory where I worked - as a laugh. I had no idea she'd end up suggesting we call a couple from it.
But there we were, in this Yorkshire cottage of John and Georgina, two committed partner-swappers. And there I was, after dinner, walking into the living room - after making coffee with Georgina - to find Marie with her legs quite literally around this guy's shoulders.
As a bloke, you don't know how you're going to react to that. I was aware it might happen but I didn't know if I'd be jealous or angry. But, honestly, it was just erotic. Because stood there next to me, Georgina was already slipping off her black dress and leading me to the second Chesterfield.
I felt like a kid at Christmas. Put it this way: I didn't last long. The excitement of it all got the better of me. I looked over after I'd finished and John was still flipping Marie about. It didn't matter. It was one of the most exquisite moments of my life. Afterwards, they brought out champagne and strawberries.
That night changed everything. Driving home the next day, Marie and I were both on a high. We felt like we'd been given the keys to a secret, more colourful world and I remember us both saying it was where we belonged. We became swingers. For three decades afterwards, I estimate I slept with perhaps 70 women a year: about 2,000 in all.
Marie is the love of my life. In 2022, we'll celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. We have four grandchildren together.
But neither of us put sex on a pedestal. We see it as distinct from love. Life is about experimenting and experiencing and that's what we do. It makes us happy. Let me tell you, you're far more content with the world when you know, later that night, you're going to have some otherwise respectable woman - a GP or a headteacher - doing absolutely filthy things to you. It adds a frisson to existence.
If I tried to tell you about the best times I've had, I wouldn't know where to begin. Maybe the house party in Derby where I had eight women in one night. Or the summer evening we met a couple on the hills of the Peak District and lay shagging as the sun rose. Or possibly the swingers resort we went to in Jamaica where there were people from all over the world with one thing in mind - and it wasn't sight-seeing.
Some couples - like John and Georgina - become close friends. Others we only ever saw once. Sometimes the sex is incredible - like with the aristocrat who had me on her velvet-draped bed before she moved onto Marie - and sometimes it isn't. Sometimes you go through the motions while thinking about what's for supper. Sometimes you don't even get that far. We've met couples and just not been in to them. You go half way across the country, have a couple of drinks and then make your excuses. You're driving home with nothing but a disappointed hard on and half a tank less petrol. But, even then, it's always an experience. It's always an adventure.
In 1997, we quit our jobs and opened the UK's first swingers' club in Sheffield. We fitted it with a Parisian bar and a range of themed bedrooms. We had a mini pool installed, and put a model car outside so couples could get kinky in that. And it's still thriving today.
It's a great place - although not everyone has always agreed. The News of the World once did an exposé. I remember opening it one Sunday and there we were. They'd sent an undercover reporter in. The article called us perverts and said they'd sent a dossier about the club to the police.
Well, the police already knew about us because we have to comply with licencing laws but we were still worried. We went to the local station that Monday and saw a couple of detectives. They laughed. They said, as far as they were concerned, it wasn't illegal for consenting adults to have sex on private property. One of them asked how much membership was.
After that, the club pretty much trebled its membership overnight. The article included a picture of the building with our number right there, and the phone never stopped ringing. We couldn't have bought better publicity. We sent a bouquet of flowers to the reporter: 'do come again'.
I'm getting older now - I'm 68 - and have slowed down. I haven't been with anyone for a while. It's hard to believe when you're young but the raw fury of lust does start to ease.
The one thing we have noticed running the club, though, is there are more young people having non-monogamous relationships. I think it's less frowned on today. I always tell anyone in their early 20s to make sure it's what they want, make sure they stay safe and make sure they enjoy themselves.
Someone asked me how I'd feel if my granddaughter became a swinger: horrified - because she's still a teenager! But, in the future, if this was a way of life that appealed to her, why not? It's brought me and Marie nothing but joy and adventure. I'd recommend it to anyone.
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Read Barry's story in his own book Swingers, available on Amazon.
As told to Colin Drury.