So, in the first week of November the madness began; I had become an unfaithful wife; a slut, a harlot.
I had started an affair with one of our closest family friends; a man we had known well for nearly twenty years, whose family we had shared holidays with, Christmases with and who was the father of our kids’ best friends.
Already in an unexpected state of arousal brought on by the erotic story I was writing on a journey home from London, I had bumped into Tony on the train and had spent the full ninety minute trip enjoying his company. I had been using Tony as a model for one of the characters in my story and myself for another. The two characters were in the process of having wild, unprotected sex in his marital bed so to meet him in person at that moment had been quite a shock. My first reaction had been embarrassment tinged with guilt but he had soon put me and my ease and the journey had passed in very pleasant conversation with perhaps his normal level of light flirting.
The result was that my level of arousal had still been high when the train pulled into the rather bleak parkway station. Always the gentleman, Tony had given me a lift home from the station but for reasons I still do not fully understand even now, when he kissed me goodbye in the hallway with his usual playful squeeze of my bottom, instead of the equally playful removal of his hand and mock scolding I would normally have given, for I had left his palm on my buttock and raised my arms around his neck.
The kissing, stripping, fondling, crude but passionate fucking and mutual climaxes that had followed on our lounge floor had introduced me to a whole new world of pleasure.
It had also introduced me to a world of constant fear and guilt.
The fact that for several years, my sex life with my husband Pete had been dominated by fantasies in which I was taken in many ways by many different men didn’t excuse my crime. The fact that Pete had been urging me to take a lover in real life for many months only could only go so far in moderating my feelings of shame and guilt.
What was worse, the following Monday when I had gone to Tony’s apartment to tell him it all had to end immediately, things hadn’t gone at all to plan. Instead of a painful, embarrassing parting of the ways we had fallen into each other’s arms for a second time and, an hour later as I drove home with two more doses of my lover’s semen inside my body, I was a lost cause.
I was too ashamed even to turn to my online cuckold friends for advice. Every one of them would have told me the same thing; that in a wife-sharing relationship there had to be trust; that I shouldn’t have gone with another man without my husband’s knowledge and acquiescence. Knowing what he would say – and indeed did eventually say – I hardly dared tell Richard, one of my most helpful cuckold friends what I had done.
But for Tony and me, the dam was well and truly breached. For the next two weeks we were like kids with a new toy, meeting and making love as often as we could, aware of the risk and danger of discovery but unable or unwilling to resist.
Several times I came to his flat (and came in his flat), once in the early morning before work which made me arrive in my office late and a little dishevelled. Once we went to a hotel at lunchtime, one evening we even made love in the back of my SUV in the dark recesses of a country car park. It was crude, uncomfortable; painful even but made me feel like a teen again.
I must have been terribly distracted at home. Pete didn’t seem to notice any physical change in me but he certainly did notice that our sex life had come to a grinding halt. Given almost constantly ‘freshly-fucked’ state of my body and to be brutally honest, the increasing soreness between my legs there was no way I could take the risk of letting my husband near me.
But this intensity or passion couldn’t last and, as Tony rolled off me one Saturday morning when I was supposedly at the gym, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my pink flushed chest, we realised – just in time – that if we continued at this rate it would not be long before we were discovered.
It was very difficult, but it was obvious that for safety’s sake we simply had to see each other less often.
The compensation was that when we did meet, we would make sure we could be together for longer. I worked only a half day on Thursdays, usually spending the afternoon grocery shopping and in the gym. Tony runs his own business and, with a little difficulty, could arrange to be ‘out of the office’ when he needed to be.
It took a shamefully short time for us to come to terms with what had happened and overcome the (initially considerable) guilt. Neither of us had cheated on our spouses before. Despite Tony being separated from his wife Julie who was herself in the midst of a rather public affair and the fact that my husband Peter had been urging me to take a lover for many months, we both knew there was something very wrong about what we were doing but were pathetically helpless to resist.
I had always despised people who were unable to resist temptation. I had been contemptuous of the few friends I knew who had put their own pleasure before the good of their families and cheated on their partners. But now everything had changed; now I was in that position myself I began to understand just how torn a woman lover can be between two lovers.
Even now I tell myself that, if Pete hadn’t told me so often to find another man I would never have let myself get into that position but of course I can never be sure.
What I am sure is that throughout our affair it never once crossed my mind to leave my husband. Nevertheless the strong physical attraction and extraordinary sexual compatibility between Tony and me brought a new and exciting dimension into both our lives that neither of us wanted to end. Over the next few weeks as we grew more used to each other’s bodies, we relaxed more and more and the pleasures of the bed grew more and more intense.
To my amazement, once the first few crazy weeks of my affair were over, although I could still not reach orgasm with him, sex with my husband recommenced and was immediately much more intense and exiting too. It was still completely dominated by Pete’s fantasies of watching me with another man but, although the man in Pete’s fantasies changed from day to day, there was only ever one face in my mind as we played out scenario after scenario in our bedroom.
Often I would lie next to my sleeping husband pondering how two such apparently similar men could be so very different as lovers. It went far beyond the mere differences in size and shape of their erect cocks.
Part of it was novelty, I’m sure. After years being as tall as my partner – taller when in heels – it felt good to be with a man who was over six inches taller than me and made me feel pleasantly dominated. Though both men were slim; my husband’s body was if anything better trained and more athletic than my lover’s but it was also covered in thick dark hair. Tony’s almost hairless chest on the other hand had at most a soft, sparse, downy feel which in a strange way made me feel cleaner and younger too.
But increasingly often I would lie awake wondering what on earth I thought I was doing. Though in no way prepared to stop, I found it harder and harder to keep on deceiving my husband in this way. The battle inside me raged constantly; between the love I unquestionably still felt for Pete, the increasing passion felt for Tony and the certainty in my mind that it was all wrong and that I should never have got myself into this situation.
For a whole mad month the affair continued like this, my body shared between my two lovers. To this day I can’t understand how Pete never realised that he wasn’t the only man using me but he gave no sign of suspicion at all so what happened next really did come as a complete shock to him.
It was Sunday night – the second weekend in December – and we were in bed. Pete and I had just reached the end of an unusually intricate fantasy in which I had taken not one but two men’s cocks into my body at the same time. This was an extreme scenario even for him but I had happily gone along with it and he had climaxed loudly and messily inside me as I loved so much.
I hadn’t come close to orgasm myself and hadn’t slept with Tony for a few days so was feeling more than a little frustrated. As my husband’s cock softened inside me then slipped stickily out, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, his face hot and pink.
“That was amazing, Penny,” he croaked. “You’ve been practicing!”
I forced out a rather false-sounding laugh; that much was certainly true.
“You didn’t cum though, did you?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” I began.
“It DOES matter,” he insisted. “I mean it! I wish I could make you feel as good as… as good as you just made me feel!”
“It’s not you,” I said unconvincingly. “It’s me Pete!”
There was a long pause as he regained his breath. I brought my aching legs together, feeling the warm stickiness on my upper thighs and thinking how different it had all felt with Tony in his apartment only a few days ago.
That was the last time he and I had fucked; the last time I had reached orgasm. The last time I had cheated on my husband, my inner voice suddenly said loudly, turning the memories of arousal and excitement into deep feelings of remorse and shame.
“You know it would be okay?” Pete’s voice brought me out of my reverie with a start.
“Hmmm?”
“I said it would be okay if you found someone to bring you what I can’t.”
“I know. You’ve told me many times!” I replied.
“And I mean it,” he insisted. “If that’s what it takes then I would be okay about it!”
“Do you really mean it, Pete?” I asked, staring at the ceiling. “I mean really, really mean it?”
“Of course! If I can’t make you cum then we’ll have to find someone who can.”
The familiar words of persuasion suddenly took on a new meaning. Suddenly I realised the moment of truth had arrived; I had to tell my husband about my affair, I had tell him there and I had to tell him then. There would never be a more appropriate moment to break news as difficult to hear as this.
Looking back, telling Pete there and then was madness; ill thought-out madness too, unfair both to my husband and my lover but at that moment it seemed the only option. So, without even thinking about warning Tony, I took a deep breath, felt my chest tighten with anxiety then took a bold step into the unknown.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” I began falteringly.
“What is it, Penn?” Pete asked, his tone of voice suggesting he knew something big was coming.
“You’ve told me many times it would be okay if I found a lover.”
“Yes. And I mean it.”
“Well, Pete… I’ve… I’ve already found someone!” I mumbled.
“What?”
“I’… I have found someone. Someone who can make me cum.”
“What are you saying?” he asked as if his mind was unable to grasp what his ears were hearing.
“I’m saying I’ve been sleeping with someone else,” I almost choked on the words.
“Jesus Penny!”
He sat bolt upright in bed and turned towards me. I did the same, meeting him face to face.
“I’m sorry Pete. I know it must be a shock…”
“You’re not fucking kidding!” he interrupted.
“But I’ve been doing what you said you wanted.”
“Jesus Christ, Penny!”
Pete jumped out of bed, standing naked alongside the mattress, his flaccid, recently-used cock hanging darkly between his thighs. He should have looked absurd; instead he looked wounded.
“It’s what you told me you wanted,” I protested, rising on my knees. “You’ve told me hundreds of times it would be okay if I had sex with another man. Now I’ve done it!”
“You’re really serious?”
“Yes Pete. I’m serious!”
He began to pace up and down the bedroom floor.
“Fuck! Who is it? No! Don’t tell me! How… how long has it been going on?”
“Nearly five weeks.”
“Five weeks! How many times have you done it with him?” he demanded, still pacing angrily.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes! No! Fuck, I don’t know! How could you do this Penny?”
“I thought you wanted me to!”
“I did… well, I thought I did but now… Fuck Penny! I can’t believe you did it! You’ve actually fucked someone else for real? Not just one of our fantasies? You’ve actually cheated on me?”
He was still now, staring hard at me as I knelt helplessly on the bed, equally naked. I couldn’t think what to say so I remained silent. I could hear him breathing heavily and saw tears coming into his eyes.
“Are you in love with him? Are… are you going to leave me?” he eventually asked, his voice broken and choked.
“No!” I insisted loudly. “Not if you don’t want me to. I don’t love him; I still love you Pete. It’s just sex, like you told me so many times you wanted!”
There was another long pause then he spoke softly and quietly but coldly.
“Is he good at it? Does he really make you cum?”
“You really want to know?”
“Y… Yes.”
“Then yes Pete, he’s very good at it and makes me cum almost every time.”
I heard a soft whimper of pain escape his lips.
“But I don’t love him like I love you. It really is just sex. I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Please Penny, don’t say that again.’
“But…”
“I thought it was what I wanted too, but now it’s happened… I don’t know any more!”
There was a long pause, one in which my husband of over twenty years seemed unable even to look at me.
“If you want, I’ll stop seeing him,” I said eventually, realising that, despite the fantastic sex, I really would have stopped it there and then if Pete asked me to.
Instead he took a deep breath and apparently with some difficultly looked deep into my eyes. I could see the redness and upset in his and it hurt me inside.
“Do you want to stop seeing him?” he asked, quietly.
I thought for a moment.
“Honestly?”
He nodded.
“I think honesty is the only option now, don’t you?”
“Then no, I don’t want it to stop,” I replied. “I’d like to keep on seeing him and be married to you, but only if you really are okay about it. You have to be honest about that, Pete.”
“And you’d really stop if I asked you?”
“Yes, Pete. I really would.”
There was an even longer pause; eventually I couldn’t keep silent and turned towards him.
“Do you still want me?” I asked. “Have I just destroyed our marriage?”
“No! Well, I don’t think so! I… I really don’t know. I need a bit of time and space.”
There was a long pause. I felt sick. I don’t know how I imagined he would react but it wasn’t like this.
“I think I’ll sleep in the spare room tonight,” he eventually said, grabbing his pyjamas from the bedside chair.
“Pete!” I grabbed his hand but he shook me away.
“Let me go, please Penny. I need time to think.”
“Pete I’m so sorry I…”
“Goodnight Penny!” he said and left the room.
***
I suspect neither of us slept a wink that night. I know I didn’t; the entire night was dominated by feelings of guilt, shame, regret, self-loathing and many other emotions that the darkness brings out. I had hurt the man I loved and had hurt him badly. Despite the many times he had told me how much he wanted me to take a lover, now it had actually happened the reality had been more painful for him than I had imagined.
My mind painted vivid images of what life as a divorcee might be like; the pain of the process, the legal battle, the shame of having my infidelity known throughout our friendship group. Then afterwards, living in a small house or flat, my children being ashamed of me, my family treating me with contempt.
But then came equally vivid images and memories in my mind of what sex with Tony had felt like and the certain knowledge that whatever happened, I really did not want it to stop.
I must have fallen asleep at some point because I was woken early the next morning by the sound of the front door being closed and Pete’s car reversing along the driveway. It was six o’clock; a full ninety minutes earlier than he would usually leave. I jumped out of bed and ran to the guest room to find his bed made but no other signs of his having moved out.
For the whole of that day, Pete either ignored my calls and messages or else simply replied with the one line:
‘I just need some space to think’
When I phoned Tony to tell him what had happened he was unsurprisingly anxious to know whether Pete knew who my lover was, presumably to be prepared for any unwanted and potentially violent ‘meetings’ that might take place. He was very relieved when I explained Pete had said he didn’t want to know who my partner in crime was.
Pete didn’t come home that night or the night after. There were enough terse text exchanges for me to know he was still safe and at work but the pain in knowing he couldn’t stand being in the same house as me was almost too much to bear.
Interestingly, although he offered many times, I didn’t want to go to Tony’s and stay with him. I wanted to be findable; at home or in my office if and when my husband wanted me. It was all but impossible to concentrate at work but I couldn’t let anyone know what had happened so I had to force myself to behave as normally as possible while my mind was fixed on the terrible thing I had done to the man I loved.
Thank God none of the kids called to speak to their father.
After two terrible, guilt-ridden, sleepless days on my own, I was woken early on the Wednesday morning by noises coming from downstairs. It was still dark but I realised that Pete must have returned. My heart thumping in my chest, I listened hard for any clues as to what he was doing, expecting at any moment to hear the packing of bags prior to him leaving me.
Eventually I heard the familiar and reassuringly normal sound of the kettle beginning to heat up. It took all my courage but eventually I got out of bed, pulled my robe around my shoulders and padded downstairs towards the source of the sounds and the future of my marriage – if I still had one.
Pete looked tired and upset too when I entered the kitchen as silently as I could as if unworthy to be there or to behave in any way normally.
“Hello,” I said softly as I approached him from behind, making him jump slightly. “How are you?”
“What? Oh hi! Good morning Penny.”
It was a better greeting than I had feared. Better than perhaps I deserved.
“Are you okay? Where have you been?” I asked tentatively.
“I’m okay,” he replied, ignoring the second part of my question.
“It’s very early.
Pete sighed.
“I’m not sure I’ve slept for the last three nights to be honest. How about you?”
“Pretty much the same,” I replied truthfully, instinctively beginning to put away the dishes from the draining board as if in a vain attempt to distract myself and feel vaguely normal.
Eventually the futility dawned on me and I asked him straight out.
“You’ve come home. Does that mean you’ve thought about it? About us? Are we… are we… still together…after…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
He poured two mugs of tea and handed one to me, mumbling something under his breath; something that sounded like ‘Be careful what you wish for!”
“Are we still together? After you’ve been having an affair? I honestly don’t know, Penny. I still can’t get my mind around it. Part of me tells me that I did want you to do it; that it should be okay. Another part of me can’t bear it.”
I hung my head instinctively in shame. But he hadn’t finished.
“I still can’t believe you actually cheated on me, Penny. I know what I said about finding a lover but it hurts! I suppose deep down I didn’t think you’d ever go through with it. I certainly didn’t think you’d do it without talking it through with me first. Now I’ve lost you for real I’m not sure how I feel.”
“You haven’t lost me!” I protested, “Not if you still want me! I know I don’t want to lose you.”
He turned to face me.
“You really mean that? You really want us to stay together?”
“Yes! Really I do! I love you Pete!”
“But you want to keep on seeing this man? You want to keep on… fucking him?”
I winced at his use of the ‘f’ word. He noticed.
“Let’s not by coy about this, Penny; it’s called fucking. You’ve been fucking another man. Are you’re sure that’s all you want it to be? You just want to fuck him, that’s all? You haven’t fallen in love?”
He really was upset; Pete would never have used the ‘f’ word like that before.
“It’s only physical, honestly,” I insisted. “And I’d only do it at all if you really were okay about it. If you ask me to stop then I will stop.”
Now it was his turn to take a deep breath. He turned to face me, took my hands in his and squeezed them.
“I love you Penny; I love you like mad but what you did was wrong. You deceived me; you betrayed me.”
I made to protest but he cut me off.
“Oh I know I said I wanted you to do it; that it would be okay but I didn’t mean you should go behind my back and fuck someone in secret. That wasn’t fair; that wasn’t open and honest. And if we’re anything to each other I thought we were honest.”
I felt sick. I felt ashamed. All my online friends had been right!
“Have you been with him since you told me?”
“No,” I shook my head.
“And if I ask you not to, you’ll never see him again? You really mean that?”
“I really mean it, Pete,” I insisted, my mind and voice very anxious.
There was a long pause during which I could say nothing and do nothing other than watch the handsome man I loved and had hurt so badly.
“I’ve had three long nights to think about this,” Pete finally continued. “I wanted to hate you; I wanted to despise you, I wanted to feel repulsed by you, I wanted to hurt you and hurt him. But I couldn’t. I’m crazy about you Penny; I always have been and I think I always will be.”
“I feel the same, Pete but…”
“BUT,” he cut me off sharply. “But this wasn’t what we fantasised about. This wasn’t like the fun we had together in bed. This wasn’t a wife-sharing fantasy like we pretended; this was straightforward cheating, Penny. You cheated on me and it sounds like you have cheated on me many times. It’s a betrayal, there’s no other way to describe it!”
He took a deep breath.
“So I’ve made a decision.”
I stared at the floor in front of me, unable to look my husband of over twenty years in the eye; waiting for the axe to fall on our marriage and for my life to fall apart.
“Pete I…” I mumbled.
“Please let me finish or I might not be able to manage,” he said, rather less angrily than before. “I accept this is in some way my fault too. I accept that I might have put the idea in your mind. Although it’s still a massive betrayal I appreciate that you eventually told me voluntarily.”
There was a pause that seemed to last most of my life as I waited for the world to come down around my ears; for my marriage to end, for my children to hate me.
But it didn’t happen. To my disbelieving ears, my amazing husband continued:
“So I’ve had to make one of the toughest decisions of my life. I love you Penny. I’ve always loved you and this… this affair has made me realise how much. The truth is I adore you. I now understand that I couldn’t bear to live without you so…” he took yet another deep breath before saying the words I could scarcely believe I was hearing.
“So if fucking another man is what it takes to make you happy, then I’m prepared to try and live with it!”
“Pete!” I exclaimed, astonished, raising my wide-open eyes to his. “You mean it? You still want me?”
“Christ yes!” he was in tears now. “The last few nights have made me realise how much you mean to me. As long as you still love me; as long as you still want to be my wife then I’m prepared to try and live with you fucking another man too.”
This was almost too much to take in. My mind was spinning.
“But that’s all it can be Penny; just fucking. You have to promise faithfully that if it ever looks like being a threat to our marriage; if you feel you’re falling in love with him or if I ever ask you sincerely to stop seeing him then you WILL stop seeing him!”
I looked my amazing husband straight in the eye.
“I promise, Pete. I swear.”
“And you’ll be honest with me all the time? If I ask you to tell me what the two of you have been doing, you’ll tell me the truth, no matter how personal or detailed it is?”
These conditions were so close to all that my online cuckold friends had predicted that it was unnerving. I could do nothing but agree.
“I promise, Pete. Truly I promise if it’s what you want.”
“And you must be very, very discreet. As far as the world is concerned, you must still my normal, faithful wife. I couldn’t bear it if it got out and all our friends knew I was a…” he struggled to say the word, ‘… a Cuckold!”
“I promise that too. Only the three of us will ever know.”
“How can you be sure he – your lover won’t tell?” he almost choked on the word.
“Trust me; I know. He’ll be discreet too,” I assured him.
“Is he married?”
“Yes. Well, sort of…” I said.
Pete breathed deeply. I looked carefully at the man I had married over twenty years ago and who had just learned that his normal, ordinary wife had been extraordinarily unfaithful to him. To my amazement, his boxer shorts were straining under the pressure of an enormous erection.
He took a step towards me, then another, then a third.
“Christ, Penny you make me feel so…”
Suddenly I was in his arms and he was hugging me tightly, his lips on mine, his tongue deep in my mouth. I opened for him, my tongue seeking his and tangling with it as our mouths moulded together passionately.
Then his hands were on me forcefully, tearing my robe from my body with an unfamiliar strength – almost a violence that gave me no chance to object or respond. Seconds later his trousers and shorts were around his ankles, my night dress was roughly rammed under my armpits and he had pushed me backwards over the kitchen table, forcing my legs apart with his strong hands.
“Fuck you Penny!” his voice was hard and coarse. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you and your cheating!”
“Oh Pete!” I gasped as he lifted my knees high and wide, exposing my vulva completely and grotesquely, my body helpless and unresisting before him. I should have been afraid at his unfamiliar anger but in a perverse way I wanted him to treat me this way, as if I deserved the violence, as if I needed to feel his anger and pain.
“That’s right! Fuck me Pete! Fuck me! Make me yours!”
The words were like pulling a trigger. A strange growl came from his throat and a moment later the head of his long, slim cock was pressed hard against my tight entrance. There had been no time for me to lubricate so when his buttocks tightened and his smooth head was forced into my dry, resisting vagina I yelped with pain.
“Ha! That’s good! Scream, you slut. I hope it hurts!”
His words were harsh and his face ugly but I still didn’t resist – or even want to resist.
“Just fuck me!” I repeated over and over again. “Fuck your slut wife like she deserves!”
To my astonishment, at these words my body began to respond instantly, my vagina weeping copiously onto the painfully invading phallus. What was this? Did I enjoy being abused and abusing myself?
“What are you Penny?” he growled, thrusting himself deep into me, the pain still strong but quickly fading as moisture seeped out of my body.
“A slut! I’m a slut, an unfaithful slut!” I gasped, feeling hotter and more aroused by the moment.
‘”That’s right, Penny! You’re a slut; a slut wife… who likes… other men’s cocks… in her cunt!’
He matched his violent thrusts to his words. With the pain rapidly fading, it felt amazing; overwhelming as if the man I had known for so long had turned into something new, hard, strong, frighteningly passionate but at the same time truly exciting again.
“Oh yes!” I responded. Pete’s cock was now thrusting freely in and out of my body as I lay helpless across the kitchen table. “Fuck your slut wife’s cunt, Cuckold!”
His thrusts became wilder and more powerful, driving me up the table with each stroke. I grabbed at its edge with both hands; my body held helpless, my knees trapped in the crook of his elbows as he pulled me forcibly onto his long, thin erection, battering my cervix with each powerful forward stroke.
“Nnnngh! Nnnngh!”
Pete’s grunts were animal-like as he took possession of me completely, hammering noisily into my body. My vagina was now wet and loose around his shaft but his long, thin cock reached so deep into me it felt as if he would stop my heart.
“Yes! Oh Yes…” I heard my own voice loudly wailing.
The speed of his strokes increased and then to my amazement, I began to cum. For the first time in a year I began to climax on my husband’s cock, freely and wildly, helpless and at his mercy on my back on the kitchen table.
“MmmmmmmMMMMMM!”
“Yes!” he growled, his voice almost triumphant, “Cum for me you slut! Cum hard like HE makes you cum!”
My back arched, my hips tilted forward, driving my clitoris onto the top of his shaft as another wave of orgasm washed over me.
“Mmmmmmyyyyyeesssssss!”
As a third pulse of orgasm rippled through me I felt the head of my husband’s cock swelling deep within me and realised he was about to cum too. Moments later his strong handsome face twisted as Tony’s had done and with an incoherent animal grunt he began to ejaculate inside me, his thrusts short, sharp and uncontrolled.
“Aaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwyyyessss!”
I wailed into the morning air, my body now out of control, my legs wrapped around his lower back as if trying to draw him even deeper into me.
“OhmyGodddddddd!”
Pete’s ejaculation seemed to last forever, his expression changing from pain to lust to love and back to pain over and over as his long slim cock pumped semen into my over-sized vagina. The warm, fundamentally female feeling of being inseminated by a powerful man washed over me again; the life-affirming sensation I had loved all my life.
And then it was over. For a few minutes we remained motionless, me naked on my back on the kitchen table, my legs splayed wide, my hands gripping the table edge. My husband held himself still inside me, panting as he recovered his breath and his cock softened, his trousers ludicrously bunched around his ankles.
“Are you alright?” he eventually asked as his flaccid cock slipped out of me and a pool of goo trickled onto the table top beneath my bottom.
I nodded, still short of breath, stunned by unexpected the intensity of my orgasm and of his.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his dreamy eyes on mine.
I shook my head and forced a smile. It wasn’t true; he had hurt me; my vagina was very sore from the dry penetration and my lower back was bruised from being hammered into the hard table top so violently. But there was nothing to be gained from telling him and it didn’t really matter; we were still a couple.
Pete took my hands in his and gently helped me to my feet. I stood alongside the sticky table, my legs wobbly and unstable; my head spinning while he pulled up his pants and trousers. Then he smoothed my nightgown down, wrapped my bathrobe carefully around my shoulders lovingly and hugged me again, my head against his strong chest.
“Sorry! I couldn’t help it,” he murmured into my ear.
‘It’s okay,” I replied. “I wanted it. I think I deserved it. “
He hugged me longer, kissing my hair and my neck.
“Do I know him?” He eventually asked uncertainly as my body’s trembling subsided.
“You said you didn’t want to know.”
“I don’t think I can be that strong,” he replied. “I’ve got to know who he is.”
“Then yes,” I said flatly. “You do know him.”
He paused.
“Do I know him well?”
“Yes.”
There was a longer pause.
“It’s Tony isn’t it?” he stated flatly. I nodded, my head lowered. Then I started as he laughed loudly and hollowly.
“The cheeky bastard! I thought he was my friend!”
‘He is your friend, Pete. It’s just that he… I mean we…”
“It’s just that he’s been fucking my wife for the last month! Bastard!”
There was a long pause while my husband tried to come to terms with the painful news. I could see his face contorting in mental anguish then a strange almost lascivious look came over him.
“I guess he’s been after you for years. I’ve always known it but I never thought he’d ever actually get you!” he chuckled. “I bet he didn’t think he would either.”
“You’re okay with it being him?”
He thought for a minute.
“To be honest, if you have to have a lover then it could be a lot worse. He cares for you a lot, I know he does and I think you’ve always had a soft spot for him too. Remember the Medical Ball?”
I certainly did; it was the time of my first ‘near-miss’. I hadn’t realised my husband had known about it and for so long.
“He’s a good looking bastard too but you’re right, he’ll be very discreet.”
He kissed me again.
“Have you thought about how you want to do it? I don’t mean in bed I mean…”
I laughed, “I understand, silly!”
“Well?’
“It depends what you think you could live with?” I replied, still amazed at the calmness with which he was taking it all. Pete thought for a while.
“I wondered about that half the night. I’m really not sure. Maybe one date a week? Maybe the occasional weekend? I really don’t know. The last few nights I felt betrayed and hurt. This morning I feel different.”
“How different? What have you been doing the last two days?”
“I’m not sure,” again he ignored the second part of my question. “In the darkness on my own it felt as if my life was collapsing all around me. Now in the daylight it seems… well, almost exciting; sort of new and unknown and, in a way, thrilling – like all my fantasies have come true.”
This I had not been expecting but to be honest, now I knew I hadn’t destroyed our marriage, I felt something similar growing inside me too.
“How I’ll feel if I meet Tony is a different matter,” he continued. “Did he seduce you? Did you put up a fight?”
“It wasn’t like that,” I began and briefly told him about our meeting on the train and how things had overtaken us both when he had dropped me off. I left out the bit about my erotic writing – I didn’t want anyone other than my one close girlfriend to know about that.
“So your first fuck was here on our lounge floor?” Pete asked. I nodded. Told out loud, it did sound rather sordid. “Show me!” he said excitedly.
I silently led him out of the kitchen, across the hallway and into the lounge where I pointed to the end of the sofa and the rug on the floor in front.
“Just there,” I said, my voice nervous and hoarse.
“Where were you lying?”
“With my head against the sofa.”
“And your bottom?”
I thought for a moment then pointed with my foot to a place on the rug which might have been about right – in truth I had been so fuddled by Tony’s fucking that I really had little idea. To my surprise, Pete dropped to his knees and began to inspect the carpet.
“It was over a month ago,” I said softly. “There won’t be any marks now.”
But Pete just ignored me and continued to look.
“Did you plan it when he brought you home?” he asked.
“No. Honestly, it just sort of happened,” I said, hoping I sounded truthful. It was the truth after all.
“So he stripped you right here? You were in your work suit?”
I nodded again.
“And he fucked you right here? You had an orgasm right there on the floor?”
“Yes but…”
“There’s a small stain right here,” he announced triumphantly, pointing to an all but invisible dark patch before looking upwards straight into my eyes. “Did you use a condom? Be honest Pen, you’ve got to be totally honest with me now if we’re going to make this work.”
“It all happened too fast, we…”
“Did he cum inside you?” he interrupted, his voice hard and firm.
I lowered my head in embarrassment as he rose to his feet alongside me then I nodded slowly as if ashamed.
“He did? You fucked him unprotected and actually let him cum inside you?”
His eyes were wide and sparkling as he gasped the words. My stomach churned. Was this a step too far? I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes.
“Jesus Penny! That’s the most erotic thing I’ve heard in my entire life!”
He kissed me on the lips before quietly leaving the room. Moments later I heard his footsteps climbing the stairs and the sound of the en-suite shower running.
I stood alone in the lounge staring at the scene of the crime. There was indeed a small dark patch roughly where Tony had fucked me but surely it was just a coincidence. I really hadn’t been sure where he and I had first done the deed but the idea was apparently making my husband so very happy why would I spoil his enjoyment?
I breathed out slowly as I realised that undeservedly, it might all be all right after all. I had confessed and Pete had – eventually – accepted that his fantasy had come true, though perhaps not in the way he had imagined. He had taken me violently, almost brutally but the force of his passion had actually produced a rare and welcome orgasm with my husband too.
I suppose that said something about the ‘new me’ or even the ‘new us’.
Listening to the shower upstairs, I began to realise what a remarkable man my husband actually was, how much I loved both him and the strange desires he had. And of course the desires I now had myself.
How our new lifestyle would develop and change remained to be seen but as I began to climb the stairs I felt a real thrill of anticipation pass through me.
To borrow the words of my online friends and of my own stories, at the age of fifty-one and against all probability, I had become a Hotwife and my husband a willing Cuckold.
Both Pete’s fantasies and my erotic stories had just come true. Life had just imitated art.
How could I just go to work and behave normally?
What on earth were our lives going to be like from now on?
