“Premature menopause,” came the words, crushing like a sledgehammer into Sarah Fuller’s soul. Doctor Hampton delivered the diagnosis calmly, like this was some everyday conversation instead of a devastating blow to all of Sarah’s plans and dreams.
“But… but I’m only thirty-six!” Sarah nearly wailed in response. “How can this be possible? What can we do about it? What treatments are best for this?”
Sarah slumped in a plush chair across from Doctor Hampton’s ornate wooden desk, with her husband Keith in the chair next to her. He held her hand as the doctor patiently explained.
“Sarah,” the doctor spoke, “there’s no easy way to put this. Once menopause begins, there is really nothing that we can do to reverse that. We can put you on hormone replacement to help with some of the side effects – like hot flashes, night sweats, vaginal dryness, that sort of thing – and at your age, you absolutely need to go on HRT to help lower your risks of osteoporosis and heart disease. But we can’t actually stop menopause.”
The pretty brunette fought back tears. “Are you sure?” she asked, desperate hope in her voice. “Could it be anything else?”
He shook his head. “You haven’t had a period in four months, and have only had three periods in the last year. Your bloodwork shows drastically reduced estrogen levels. Sarah, this is a textbook case.”
Sarah cut her green eyes at her husband, whose face was unreadable, before she looked back at the doctor. “This means that I can’t have a baby, doesn’t it?” she asked, her voice cracking.
Doctor Hampton frowned. “Technically speaking, as long as you are still having periods, it is possible – at least, mathematically – for you to get pregnant. But you’ve been trying for close to two years now with no success. And as I understand it, your husband has been tested and there are no issues with his fertility. Given this diagnosis, your chances are essentially zero without any help. You could go on fertility treatments, of course, but given the fact that we don’t really know when – or even if – you will ovulate again, the odds are heavily against you.”
Sarah swallowed, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. “Thank you, Doctor Hampton,” she spoke. At that moment, she gave up hoping that the man couldn’t see just how gutted she felt.
——————————————————–
Sarah and Keith had been married for eleven years, now. She was an athletic brunette with mysterious green eyes and an easy mischievous grin. He was a lanky blonde, with blue eyes and a surfer build, standing three inches taller than his wife at his five foot, ten inch height. They were both scholarship students when they met and fell in love in college, but had they decided to wait until after graduation to get married; it was the sensible, practical thing to do.
Keith came from a well to do, if not truly wealthy, family – but Sarah’s background had been less privileged. She had seen her mother, her aunt, her older sister all struggle through hard lives. Every one of them had gotten married young; every one of them had set their life plans on hold to have children; every one of them had done a lot of living hand to mouth and had never made much of themselves beyond being mothers.
As a result, Sarah was bound and determined to make it in the world before she would even consider children. It’s not that she didn’t want to be a mom; far from it, as she loved kids and absolutely wanted her own. But she wanted to be able to provide for them, have a safe and comfortable life for them – independent of her reliance on Keith and his career in finance. She loved her husband desperately, but she had seen how hard it had been for the women in her family when they ended up as single mothers; Sarah’s father had died when she was young, her uncle had gotten his secretary pregnant en route to their divorce, and her sister had married a deadbeat who ran off with some skank. Sarah would be damned before she had a child that she didn’t know with absolute certainty that she could care for.
Keith had always wanted kids terribly; this was something that he and Sarah agreed on not long after they began seriously dating. He wanted to pass on his family name, he wanted to teach his children all sorts of things. The man actually had a drawer in his closet with a few baby clothes he had picked up over the years. What sort of man bought baby clothes?
A kind, decent, giving, loving man… that’s who. Keith was all of these things and so many more.
Above all of this, Keith was supremely respectful. He understood Sarah’s worries about children and being able to provide for them. So, in the time they had been together, they had purchased a house that was now almost paid off, they owned two cars free and clear, they had grown a decent nest egg and a vacation fund. Sarah had opened a business, struggled for a few years, earned a tiny foothold, and had now been in the black for several years with excellent, sustainable growth year after year. While Keith made his desires about children known, he accepted Sarah’s need for stability and her commentary about how she wanted kids “someday” – and never pushed for anything more.
Now, it appeared that someday would apparently never come.
——————————————————–
The first thing that happened after the doctor consultation was that Sarah went on hormone replacement – an estrogen-progestin pill, to be precise. It definitely improved her quality of life; within a month or so, the hot flashes and night sweats had almost completely gone away. Sarah’s sex drive – which had been fairly dried up for some time, truth be told – returned with a vengeance; she was suddenly far more interested in physical intimacy than she had been for at least five years.
Speaking of dried up, the HRT was a godsend in one very private area, as well. For years, the Fullers had kept a container of Astroglide in a drawer near their bed; Sarah had suffered from vaginal dryness for a long time now, and that tended to make sex painful. Lube helped, but it could be messy, it wasn’t perfect, and it made Sarah feel like less of a woman even though her husband always treated it as a non-issue; these were all likely contributing factors to why she and Keith hadn’t had as much sex as they might have, otherwise. The pills seemed to totally fix that; for the first time in longer than either of them could remember, Sarah was getting wet for sex – and not just a little wet, either. She seemed to constantly be what she might call “damp”, but as soon as Keith started kissing her neck, playing with her nipples, giving her any sort of serious touching – her poor panties would be sodden almost immediately.
The next thing that happened is that Sarah went on Clomid, a common fertility drug. It was… not pretty.
For the first few months, she seemed to feel great. After six months on the meds, Sarah had still only had one period, and there was no luck in getting pregnant – despite no lack of trying by the Fullers. Indeed, in previous years, if sex happened twice in one week it was a noteworthy thing. Now, they were having sex three, four times per week – with Keith always careful to ejaculate as deeply as he could inside of Sarah’s vagina. But no matter what, pregnancy just didn’t seem to be in the cards for them.
Then, the side effects from Clomid started to pile up. Sarah found herself growing more and more sad, more and more tired. She would openly weep at sappy television commercials; in depth movies or books would just ruin her emotionally. She found herself having difficulty pulling herself out of bed in the morning, she was always so fatigued and blue. Soon, she started to become snappy, short tempered, erratic; there were far too many days when she would lose her temper at Keith over the tiniest perceived slight, only to break town into tears minutes later. Predictably, their sex life crumbled once again.
After ten months – and only one more period – the Fullers decided that it was time to stop the Clomid. If Sarah was teetering between wanting to die and wanting to kill someone all of the time, the chances of her getting pregnant seemed remote. Fortunately, she returned to her old self within a couple of weeks of discontinuing the fertility meds; soon enough, their sex life was back to being regular, adventurous, and hot.
Desperate to have a baby, Sarah brought up in vitro fertilization – IVF – to Keith. They talked with Doctor Hampton about it, but he cautioned them to be very careful with their hopes. “IVF is really only an option for women who are not yet menopausal,” he explained. “It is very expensive, and given your history here, I would be concerned that the success rate will be extremely low.”
Nevertheless, Sarah would not be discouraged. Her eggs were still viable, right? After all, she wouldn’t still be having periods – no matter how infrequently – if they weren’t. Keith’s sperm was strong, his count was excellent. It would work. It had to work.
So, the Fullers paid the exorbitant costs to have a few of Sarah’s eggs removed, have them fertilized by Keith’s sperm in what amounted to a test tube, then have the best embryo implanted in her uterus. As a cruel jab of fate, Sarah had a positive pregnancy test a month after the procedure, but the pregnancy didn’t stick; three days after the test, she experienced what amounted to a heavy period, and that was that.
They tried one more time, but nothing at all came of the second attempt. At more than thirteen thousand dollars per try, with Doctor Hampton trying his best to talk them out of IVF due to Sarah’s poor likelihood of conception, the Fullers made the difficult, painful choice to abandon any further hopes of conceiving.
Someday was indeed never going to come.
——————————————————–
The next few months were a truly dark time in the Fullers’ marriage. Keith focused on his work; he had received a promotion at the bank, and while the salary and perks were fantastic, he did have to put in longer hours. Sarah, on the other hand, withdrew into herself. She felt like such a failure, like a sham, like a shadow of a real woman. Her friends would joke about sex and condoms and “whoopses”, apparently not realizing what Sarah would have given to have those same “worries”. She grew angry, resentful – with much of that anger turned inward.
Oh, Keith never said a thing against her. He held her while she cried, he told her it would be okay. He offered to adopt if she was interested, but he never pressed anything. He loved her and respected her space and let her be.
And she hated him for it.
She had known for years how desperately that kind, gentle, good-hearted man had wanted to be a father… but he never once had he tried to force the issue. He had always respected her, respected her choices, respected her boundaries. All he’d ever done was love and consider and cherish her.
Fat lot of good that had done him.
Likewise, Sarah had realized for a long time that they were already financially secure, but she had kept making excuses as to why it just wasn’t the right time yet to start a family; what had she been so fucking scared of? “Don’t worry, we will have a baby someday, someday soon,” she had loved to say. Now, someday was gone.
Sarah wallowed in her loss, in her sadness, in her anger. She bathed in self-pity, soaked in self-loathing. All of those negative feelings manifested themselves in ugly ways; she found herself snapping at Keith for the silliest reasons. She avoided him as much as he could; limited most of her conversation with him to short answers – even monosyllables, where possible. Needless to say, their sex life crashed into the deepest pit that the marriage had ever known.
——————————————————–
Four months passed since the Fullers had decided to give up on trying to get pregnant. Sarah had dealt with exactly one period in that time; she had grown to dread them as just another symptom of how useless she was as a woman. She couldn’t have a baby, so why in the hell did she have to put up with the cramps and bloating and mess of a random period here and there?
One Friday afternoon, Keith met her at the door while carrying a duffel bag. “What are you doing?” she asked, a look of pique on her face.
“We,” he corrected. “We are going on a long weekend trip. You have fifteen minutes to pack and meet me in the car.”
Sarah made a face as if to object. “Keith, I…”
He cut her off with a raised hand and a firm voice. “Too bad. You’re sad and upset all of the time. We barely talk. So we are going for a little trip to reconnect and spend time together. You have no choice in the matter.”
Despite her best efforts, Sarah found herself grinning. “But what do I pack? What are we doing?”
Her husband shook his head. “Sorry, no spoilers. Pack something sexy, we will have at least one nice meal. Pack something comfortable, we will be outside a little bit – and we will be driving some, too. We aren’t coming back until Monday night… and you now have thirteen minutes. Move it!”
Sarah tried to be annoyed. She tried to be outdone. She had so much to do, she was…
She was kidding herself.
Maybe this was exactly what she needed. Maybe she needed to get out of these four walls, out of her routine, out of this depressing environment… and mentally reset. Maybe just the two of them, with no “real life” to distract, would be good for her.
She made it to the car door with ninety seconds to spare.
They drove for a couple of hours, stopped and got takeout Chinese from a sketchy spot in a strip mall in the middle of nowhere, then drove another hour. Keith pulled up to a quaint little cabin, explaining how he’d found it on Air B&B. They went inside and discovered that it was almost as tacky as a place could possibly be. Every surface seemed to be covered with ducks – mounted duck taxidermy, duck art, duck signs, duck throws.
It was awful. It was glorious.
With a trip back out to the car, Keith reappeared and began setting up an honest to God chocolate fountain. He got it going with less mess than Sarah might have guessed, broke out strawberries and marshmallows to dip into the liquid chocolate, and uncorked a bottle of champagne to enjoy with their dessert. While it might have a been a little corny, it was flagrantly romantic, and Sarah found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t managed in weeks – if not months.
That night, they made love… and really connected for the first time in far longer than Sarah could recall.
The next morning, Sarah dressed in the outdoorsy clothing that Keith had suggested – a form fitting blouse, tight shorts, hiking boots. Soon enough, they were exiting their car at a place that called itself an “air park”. Looking at the shapes in the air, it hit her that Keith had signed them up to go hang gliding – a long time “someday I’ll try” type activity from her bucket list.
Sarah was nervous as hell, but she dutifully watched the little instructional video the place offered, then strapped on a helmet and goggles. Her instructor – a sun-kissed, blonde-haired surfer type named Mark who couldn’t have been much more than twenty-five year old – flirted with her shamelessly. His easy smile and suggestive commentary caused her to blush more than once, but he did manage to take her mind off of her nerves. Soon, the two of them were buckled in together; a couple of minutes later, they were towed into the sky by a tiny ultralight aircraft.
The complete flight time couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes, but the experience was absolutely glorious. The feeling of flying, the wind holding her up with the valley so small beneath her… the absolute freedom was nearly surreal. She could feel Mark’s body against hers, his arms reached around hers as he helped her to properly grip and operate the bar. About halfway through the flight, Sarah had the embarrassing realization that she was wet.
After she touched down and got out of the harness, she found Keith and embraced him. “Thank you,” she murmured in his ear.
They spent another half hour or so at the air park while waiting for the instructors to download video from their GoPros into thumb drives to be taken home. Keith could not help but notice that while he waited his turn, Sarah’s instructor hung around the waiting area and flirted pretty heavily with his wife. Sarah pretended to overlook it, but he noticed that she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, moving around in her seat, and sitting with her back slightly arched.
It struck Keith like a bolt of lightning – his wife was turned on by this other guy!
Keith was a little surprised and more than a little taken aback. He couldn’t remember seeing Sarah act this way in the past. Surely, he should say something, right? Yet he couldn’t seem to find the motivation to intervene. Instead, he chatted idly along, surfed his phone some, pretended to not notice what was going on in front of him.
Finally, the time came to leave. Keith shook his instructor’s hand as a goodbye; Mark, on the other hand, leaned in and gave Sarah a hug. Not a friendly side hug, either – he stepped right in, pulling her pert breasts firmly up against his chest. Incredibly, Sarah didn’t object, didn’t pull away, didn’t even make a face.
When they reached the car, Keith gave his wife a sideways glance and a smirk. “Have a good time?” he asked.
“Oh, absolutely!” Sarah replied with a smile. “The flight was amazing.”
Keith noted the slight flush on his wife’s wife, recognized her dilated pupils. “I’ll bet,” he observed dryly. “But really, I was talking about the time after.”
Sarah blushed. “I don’t know what you mean,” she offered weakly.
Keith laughed. “Sure you don’t. Your California dude there seemed to be a big fan. And you didn’t seem to mind.”
Sarah started to object, but Keith cut her off. “Don’t worry,” he offered. “I’m not mad. I know that you are going home with me. I don’t mind that he got you a little riled up; it was kind of hot. I figure that only means good things for me later.”
Embarrassed, Sarah turned on the radio and pretended to not know what her husband was talking about.
——————————————————–
The couple paid a visit to Duckland Cabin (as Keth dubbed it) to shower and change for dinner. While Keith certainly cleaned up well, Sarah put him to shame in a form-fitting, low cut violet dress that he couldn’t remember ever seeing before. He couldn’t resist verbally appreciating the effort.
“Damn, baby – you look fantastic in that!” he exclaimed. “I don’t remember seeing it before?”
The brunette gave him a grin. “Why, this old thing?” she asked, giving a half twirl. “I only wear this when I don’t care what I look like!”
Keith laughed and pulled her into a kiss. She returned it eagerly for a moment, then pushed him away. “Cut that out,” she protested. “You’ll take off my makeup, and you promised me a fancy dinner!”
Grinning, the two of them made their way out from beneath the gaze of the ducks and to their car.
——————————————————–
Dinner that night was a trendy affair in a little restaurant that Keith had found recommended in a local dining forum on reddit. The outside of the place was a little questionable – it looked for all the world like a house (and probably had been). The interior was nothing special, definitely held up the idea of a converted residence, but the food… wow. The owner himself made rounds of the place, checking in on everyone; the place was an obvious labor of love, and the quality of the cuisine reflected that fact.
As they walked out, arm in arm, Sarah laid her head on Keith’s shoulder. It had been a wonderful day; she felt more relaxed, more positive than she had in longer than she could recall. “So, back to Duckland?” she asked with a grin.
“Not quite yet,” Keith answered. “I was thinking that we’d go dancing for a bit first.”
“What?” Sarah asked, a look of surprise on her face. Keith had never been one for dancing; they had stopped going out to clubs and such years ago. “But you don’t even like to…”
“Hush,” he cut her off. “The entire point of this trip was to reset your perspective a bit. To break out of the ruts that we’ve been in. So, let’s go dance. We aren’t so old that they won’t let us in a club – especially given how you are dressed!”
Sarah started to argue, but damn it, a club did sound like fun. What did she have to lose?
When they pulled up to the club, the parking lot was still fairly empty; it was really too early for the partying to have truly started. Once inside, the couple found seats at the bar and ordered drinks to help pass the time – and to help apply a little social lubrication to help overcome the shyness of dancing in public.
It came as no real surprise to Keith the first time that a guy sat down on the other side of Sarah and ordered her a drink. At first, she demurred, but Keith laughed and waved at the guy, who chatted for a bit before drifting off to another part of the club.
That would not be the only drink that Sarah had bought for her that night.
It had become a bit of a joke for the couple how the guys would circle like sharks, slide in to buy Sarah a drink, then retreat in disappointment when they realized that there was no chance of anything beyond poor conversation at an increasingly loud bar. Sarah was a little surprised at how chill Keith was about the obvious interest the men were showing, but he seemed to be completely relaxed and unfazed by the attention she received. At one point, she leaned in and asked him about it.
“Aren’t you upset that these guys are hitting on me?” she asked, her voice quite loud to compete with the music.
Her husband laughed. “Why would I be?” he replied. “You’re going home with me! I just see it as proof that I’m with a sexy woman that anyone would want!”
The lack of jealousy puzzled Sarah a bit, but Keith did have a point; it’s not like there was some risk of her being stolen away by a bar bro. And if she was honest with herself, it did make her feel pretty good about herself to know that so many strange men – by and large, good looking men at that – were interested in her company. Maybe she wasn’t totally useless as a woman, after all. The alcohol and the obvious male attention had her feeling relaxed, confident… and happy.
As the night went on, the seat next to Sarah was filled by three or four different guys, all hoping for a chance to chat with the sexy brunette. They invariably bought her drinks, though they always retreated after realizing that she was there with Keith and not available. Eventually, though, that changed.
The Fullers had been at the club for two hours or so, drinking and laughing and chatting together and with whatever guy was shooting his shot at the moment. The seat next to Sarah had been empty no more than five minutes when a new man slid into the empty chair.
“Mind if I take this seat?” a tall, athletic man in his early forties asked. Sarah smiled and shook her head as her sat down. Predictably, he flagged down the bartender, ordered a beer for himself and “one of whatever the lady is having” – despite the fact that when he glanced at Sarah, he had to see Keith leaning in to speak in her ear with his arm around his wife.
When the drinks arrived, the newcomer raised his glass to Keith with a grin. Unlike the previous guys, Ben – as he introduced himself – didn’t seem to be worried at all about Keith’s presence. He chatted with both of the couple, making polite small talk with incredible ease – especially given the noise level of the club.
Eventually, he addressed Sarah directly. “Now, tell me, ma’am,” he asked with a touch of a drawl, “why is a lovely lady such as yourself not taking part in the fun on the dance floor?” As he spoke, he gestured with his beer toward the floor that had begin to seriously fill in.
“Sarah laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced in public,” she admitted. “I don’t know that I’m brave enough, and Keith has never been a huge dancer.”
Ben grinned widely, flashing off a million watt smile. “Well, if your husband doesn’t mind, I would be honored if you’d allow me to accompany you for a dance?”
Sarah was a little surprised at the request and glanced at Keith, who shrugged. “Have fun!” he offered.
Despite being unsure, Sarah allowed the stranger to take her by the hand and lead her onto the dance floor. She was incredibly nervous, but he didn’t seem to notice at all. Soon enough, she had picked up the beat and was at least holding her own… but this Ben guy was absolutely talented. Before long, the combined influences of the alcohol, the music, and the attention she had been getting had Sarah relaxed enough to just enjoy the dancing.
Keith watched the entire thing with a bemused expression. Ben was a complete gentleman on the dance floor; either way, Keith himself wasn’t worried… Sarah would be going home with him. Frankly, he was hoping that she might get a little excited like she had back at the flight park, so he didn’t mind at all when the he saw Ben steering Sarah back to the bar with his hand on the small of her back.
Sarah was grinning uncontrollably, slightly flushed from the effort. “Have fun?” Keith asked with a smile.
His wife laughed as she slid back into her seat. “Definitely! I’m out of practice, but Ben is a good partner.”
The other man smiled and bobbed his head, then spoke up. “Why don’t we grab that open table?” he asked, gesturing. “That will be a lot easier to move in and out of without worrying about anyone taking our seats.”
The suggestion made a lot of sense. After a little more chatting and another round of drinks at the new location, Sarah found herself being led back out onto the floor – this time, displaying far less bashfulness in the process.
The next hour and a half was spent with Sarah dancing her heart out. Ben was her primary partner, though she did talk Keith into a dance or two. And a couple of times, she found herself dancing with some rando on the floor.
As the night went on, Ben got far more comfortable with Sarah – or, perhaps, she got more comfortable with him. His hands may have mostly been restricted to her waist, but there were times that her breasts were pressed against his chest, times that his hand strayed to her ass for various amounts of contact. She grew so accustomed to it that when some unknown guy fully cupped and squeezed her ass on the dance floor, she didn’t even respond. And there was no denying that a couple of times when Ben was dancing close behind her, she could feel something pressing into her ass from behind – that something being his firm cock.
Early on, she would glance around, look for Keith, feel guilty at these touches – but anytime she made eye contact with her husband, he would only smile and wave. Clearly, he wasn’t worried about anything, so apparently, she wasn’t behaving too badly. Of course, had her husband known just how wet her panties were getting, perhaps he would have had a different opinion…
Keith could see the look on his wife’s face, had picked up on the change in her body language. She was definitely intoxicated, but not yet sloppy drunk. After she and Ben returned to the table, he took her discussion about being tired as an opportunity to suggest that they head back to the cabin for the night.
Ben was clearly disappointed. “But the night is still young!” he protested with a handsome grin. “Perhaps the two of you might join me for a nightcap?” he offered hopefully.
Keith glanced at Sarah, then at Ben. It was obvious that the stranger was hoping to spend more time with the sexy brunette, but Keith was ready to be alone with his wife. “Not tonight,” he offered politely. “Maybe some other time.”
Ben gave a rueful grin. “Fair enough. Perhaps I could trouble miss Sarah for a kiss on the cheek goodnight, at least?”
Sarah rolled her eyes at Keith, but leaned forward to place her lips on the other man’s cheek. As she did so, she noticed an odd expression on her husband’s face. She couldn’t quite explain why, but when Ben turned, she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on the stranger’s lips as well, which caused both men’s eyes to open wide.
She grinned at their response, then stood to walk away. “Good night, Ben. Thanks for the dancing.” She cut her eyes at Keith. “Are you coming, baby?” she asked flirtatiously.
——————————————————–
The Fullers stepped out into the night air and walked to the car together, with a slight ringing in their ears replacing the relentless thump of the base from inside the club. As they walked, Keith cut a sideways look at Sarah. “What was that?” he asked evenly.
Sarah gave a slightly lopsided grin, the alcohol – and something else – evident on her face. “What, that little kiss?” she asked coquettishly.
Keith realized that his mouth was dry, his pulse racing a bit. “Yes, exactly that!” he exclaimed. “You just kissed another man – and right there in front of everybody!”
Sarah weighed her response and decided to go for it. “Well, it didn’t seem like you had any objection to him touching me for the past our or so,” she stated. “In fact, it seemed like you might have been enjoying it… so I decided to push that a little bit and see what you thought.” She paused and looked at her husband. “Are you mad?” she asked. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just teasing you a lit…”
Keith cut her off by pushing her up against their car and placing an aggressive kiss on her lips. Sarah squeaked in surprise, but almost immediately began to return the kiss with similar aggression. She moaned as she felt her husband’s hand slip under her dress and move up to her crotch.
He pulled away from the kiss with a smirk. “Just as I suspected,” he said. “Sarah, your panties are soaked! How wet are you?”
Blushing, she stammered a response. “Um, well, I uh…”
Keith shook his head. “Get in the car,” he ordered. “We are going back to the cabin, and I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk straight tomorrow.”
Sarah shuddered at his words, now even more acutely aware of the mess in her panties. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she threatened.
——————————————————–
The sex at the cabin was some of the best that the Fullers had shared in months, if not years – ducks or no ducks.
The action was punctuated with all sorts of dirty talk. Keith pointed out how Sarah had gotten wet for both her hang-gliding instructor and for some random guy at the club. Sarah egged him on about how her husband had obviously gotten turned on by seeing another man put his hands on his wife’s body while she was dancing, and wondering what more he had wanted to see the man do. They fed off of one another, escalating it until Keith pushed her over the edge while fucking her and talking about how maybe she had wanted Ben to come “join them for a nightcap” that included the stranger bending the brunette over the hood of their car and fucking her right there in the parking lot. Sarah was usually fairly quiet during sex, but as her orgasm shattered her, she moaned and cursed while Keith filled her with his semen.
The next morning started off with some slight awkwardness in the air. “So, last night…” Keith offered hesitantly.
Sarah placed a finger to his lips. “Hush,” she admonished him. “Not right now. We had a great night. Leave it at that.”
The rest of the trip was pleasant; the couple attended a wine tasting, hit a couple of greasy spoon type restaurants, and basically just shared in each other’s company. There was no question that the two of them felt a new spark in their sex lives, but for a few days, nothing else was said about Sarah responding to other men – or about how Keith’s reaction to her responses.
By the following weekend, Keith couldn’t take it any longer, and he finally brought it up on Saturday evening.
“Baby,” he started, “we need to talk.”
Sarah frowned. “I thought that was a woman’s opening line?” she replied, half joking.
Keith grinned weakly. “Look, it’s about last weekend. We keep dancing around it, but I see your face sometimes – I know that you are thinking about it.” He swallowed before continuing. “And the fact is, I am thinking about it, too.”
“About what exactly?” Sarah asked, forcing her husband to get right to the point. “About other men flirting with me? About me responding to that? About it turning you on? What exactly are you getting at?” she pressed.
He took a deep breath. “About all of it,” he admitted. “And the fantasies, too.”
The reply apparently caught Sarah flat footed. “Oh,” was all she could muster in reply.
“Look,” he began, “I’ve been reading some things online.” Sarah started to speak, but he raised his hand and persisted. “I was feeling guilty. Weird. Like a creep or a pervert. What kind of man gets turned on by his wife flirting with other men – let alone to the idea of her having sex with them?”
The look on Sarah’s face was unreadable.
Keith felt like he was falling as he kept talking, but it was now or never.
“As it turns out – a lot of men get turned on by these things – and more. There are all sorts of communities online about it where people get together to fantasize, to trade pictures… and yes, to meet for sex.”
“Like swingers or something?” Sarah asked, her face still neutral.
“Kind of like that,” Keith nodded, “but it seems like most people who use that particular word – swingers – are more about partner swapping or whatever. You see lots of specific terms for this stuff – cuckold, hotwife, stag and vixen… a lot of it depends on how involved the husband is, the sort of relationship he and his wife have, that sort of thing. It can get really kinky and specific, but yeah… there are many couples that enjoy the idea – or practice – of the wife flirting with other men, or even having sex with them.”
Sarah still maintained an aloof expression. “So because other people are into this, it’s okay for us, is that your position?” she asked, her voice growing a bit hard. “You’ve decided, what, that because I got a little excited with a couple of guys flirting with me when I was drinking, I’m going to just start fucking other men now? Is that it?”
Keith was a little surprised at her tone and her words. “What?” he asked. “I don’t understand, why are you upset? We had a good time, you even said so the next morning. I’m not saying that we have to do anything, but I know that the fantasy angle was hot for both of us. So why would it hurt to explore that? And also…” Keith paused, weighing his next point carefully before voicing it. “As I recall, you were pretty turned on by your hang-gliding instructor – and you hadn’t had a drop of alcohol yet.”
Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but Keith’s expression wasn’t accusing or insulting. And the fact was… he was right. She had been turned on well before she had started drinking. The sex after they got back to the cabin had been really good, and it wasn’t like she could fool herself – or her husband – by pretending that the other men hadn’t had a big hand in that. As she considered, she deflated a bit.
“You’re right,” she admitted in a softer tone. “Okay. Fine. Now what? What are you hoping for, that we head to a bar and just pick some random guy up tonight?”
Keith smiled and shook his head at her uncertain attitude. “No, baby. Of course not,” he assured her. “I was just thinking that maybe we could explore some together. Research this stuff online. Maybe fantasize a little bit.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Research?” she scoffed. “That sounds like code for ‘watch porn together’, mister.”
Her husband chuckled. “I mean, maybe there is some of that. But I was thinking that we might read some forums together to start with. Educate ourselves a little bit on what people do and why they do it. Maybe see what appeals to us. That sort of thing.”
The idea of researching people having sexual adventures with people besides their spouses seemed awkward and artificial to Sarah, but she couldn’t think of any good reason to say no to it. So soon enough, they had booted up the laptop and started surfing some seedier corners of the internet. It was certainly an eye-opening experience; while there were some people who went to serious extremes – she read about men whose spouses denied them sex, who even locked their penises up into cages – there were also a lot of seemingly normal people who just got off on the idea of their spouse getting sexual attention from other people.
The two of them agreed that the really extreme cuckolding stuff – the stuff that included aspects like humiliation, denial, the husband being inferior, and so forth – didn’t appeal to them. But the idea of Sarah receiving attention from other men with Keith being fully aware and involved… now, that was exciting.
The two of them found themselves doing a lot of “research” that night – browsing various online forums, reading stories of sexual adventures, opening their eyes to the wide array of want ads and similar posts. One thing was certain – Keith had been right that there really were a lot of people into this sort of thing. Despite herself, Sarah found that knowing that they were far from alone seemed to help normalize the feelings a lot, and she found herself opening up more and more. Naturally, they did indeed end up following a link or two to some particularly recommended porn videos – which unlocked a whole new level of appeal to both Keith and Sarah.
While it quickly became clear that there was a huge range of cuckold and hotwife porn available online, both of the Fullers found the professional stuff to be fake, boring, and unbelievable. Even though the amateur footage often lacked great camera work or sound, there was something so much more gripping about seeing a real wife fucking some man who clearly was not her husband – often with the husband serving as the obvious camera man to the action if the dialogue in those clips was to be believed.
They watched several really nice pieces of porn, seeing various wives sucking and fucking other men – sometimes, even men who were of a different race than the wife. Sarah had never given much thought to interracial sex; while she of course knew that it happened, she herself didn’t know anyone who was in an interracial relationship. Seeing it happen onscreen felt a little dirty, a little taboo… and for whatever reason, seemed to get her going even more.
Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer. In the middle of another movie where the wife was being stretched out by one of the thickest dicks that Sarah had ever seen, all while the husband in the video was talking to his wife about how hot she was, she grabbed Keith’s hand and pressed it to her crotch.
“Baby, you’ve proved your point,” she panted. “Feel me. Please. I’m soaking wet. I need you to fuck me – now.”
Keith obliged, allowing his fingers to slip beneath his wife’s sodden panties, to discover that her vagina was an absolute gooey mess. It was nice to be right for once – he had been sure that she would be into this if she would only give it a chance! However, Keith was no fool; rather than try to press the point on how he had in fact been right, he followed the wise course, stripping the wet lace away and throwing his bride back onto the bed. They could talk more later; for now, it was time to fuck her.
——————————————————–
Thus began a new phase of the Fullers’ relationship. They found themselves doing “research” two or three nights per week. Sometimes, that would just amount to them browsing various cuckold or hotwife forums; other times, they would watch porn together. Dirty talk around the subject became a regular part of their sex life; Keith found that he could make little comments to her about men that had been checking her out at places like the grocery store, the movies, etc. – and it would spark his wife’s imagination and get her motor running without fail.
While the frequency of these conversations was high, and while it had become regular fuel for their fantasy lives, the Fullers seemed afraid to take any sort of serious step towards actually making anything happen. Until finally, after weeks of “research” and teasing and fantasies, the two of them decided to hit a bustling bar after dinner one Friday night.
Sarah felt a little self-conscious as they walked across the parking lot. They had enjoyed a nice dinner at a fairly fancy restaurant; as such, she felt overdressed and conspicuous. Keith handwaved her worries, and soon enough, they were perched on barstools. Keith had chosen their seats carefully, making sure to leave a seat open on the opposite side of his wife; sure enough, only a few minutes went by before the seat was filled.
While this was no dance club, the bar featured live music, pool tables, and reasonably priced drinks – predictably, it was already pretty crowded inside. While Sarah was unaware, Keith had done some reading and picked the place ahead of time specifically because of its reputation as a meat market. When the first guy slipped onto he seat next to his wife and offered her a drink, he felt like his homework may have paid off.
As with the club before, Sarah found the seat next to her staying occupied more than not. Guys would come up, offer her a drink, then flirt and chat. They usually would leave not too long after realizing that Keith was her husband, but one guy chatted with her a good half hour before leaving. And eventually, Curt sat down.
Curt had salt and pepper hair cropped quite short, a square jaw, piercing blue eyes, and an easy smile. He not only didn’t appear threatened by Keith being Sarah’s husband, but he also bought Keith a beer, as well. Unlike most of the guys who immediately started scanning the room after confirming that yes, Sarah was married, Keith continued to focus on her as he smiled and told jokes and stories. He was touchy, but not aggressively so – he would punctuate an anecdote with a hand on top of Sarah’s for a brief moment, give her arm a little squeeze here and there, that sort of thing. For her part, the brunette didn’t seem to mind the attention – she laughed at every joke, kept a constant smile on her face, seemed to hang on every one of Curt’s words, her green eyes dancing with energy all the while.
After the older man got up to go to the bathroom, Keith leaned in. “He’s definitely into you,” he spoke into his wife’s ear. “He wants you.”
Sarah laughed. “I’m married! He knows that I’m with you!” she protested. The brunette was more than a little tipsy – she’d had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner, and she was four – or was it five – drinks in here at the bar. Even so, she felt like she had a better grip on the situation than her husband did; he was obviously letting his fantasies run amok.
As they spotted Curt on his way back to the table, Keith stood up. “He knows that,” he spoke into Sarah’s ear, “but I don’t think that he cares. I’m telling you – he wants you. And you certainly don’t seem to hate his company.” Sarah grinned… was she blushing? “Be right back, I need to pee,” Keith offered as Curt slid back in next to his wife.
The line for the bathroom took far longer than Keith had anticipated; apparently, there was only the one stall and one urinal, and some drunk was camped in the stall while trying to convert it into a hazmat site. For whatever reason, the urinal line took several times as long as it should have; what was so complicated about pissing, washing your hands, and moving out of the way? Shouldn’t the stench be motivating these guys to hurry it the hell up? At any rate, what should have been a two-minute process in line morphed into a nearly fifteen-minute ordeal.
As Keith stood in line, his imagination ran back and forth as to what Sarah might be up to. Had Curt taken the chance to make a move on his wife with Keith out of the way? Was Sarah responding to those efforts? Surely she hadn’t kissed the guy, but if he put his hands on her, Keith had doubts that Sarah would have moved them. Keith felt his heart racing at the idea of his wife being receptive to some random guy hitting on her here in the bar, of her getting wet from this stranger like she had back on their trip.
As he washed his hands, Keith shook his head. Sure, this Curt guy thought that his wife was hot, but odds were, Keith was letting his fantasies take off with his imagination. Odds were, Sarah would be still chatting politely, nothing more. Hell… Curt may well have moved on by the time Keith got back to his seat.
Still, Keith found that he couldn’t quite shake the fantasies, couldn’t quite seem to get his racing heart under control. He found that his mouth was dry as he walked down the little hall, past the line of guys still waiting on the bathroom. As he stepped out into the main area of the bar again, he scanned the crowd to locate his wife, and as he did so, his heart seemed to catch in his throat. Sarah was moving, straightening up, pulling herself away from the man seated to her left. From his vantage point behind them, he was almost certain that Curt’s hand was resting on his wife’s leg. Keith was almost as certain that the way that Sarah was moving indicated that she had just pulled away from a kiss.
Holy shit.
As he slid into his seat to Sarah’s right, they both greeted Keith. Sarah flashed him a weak smile, but she seemed to glance away quickly; her face was awfully flushed. Curt smiled easily, made eye contact then kept chatting as if nothing in the world was unusual… but as Keith glanced down, it hit him with a jolt that yes, the older man did indeed have a hand on his wife’s leg – and as a matter of fact, it was on her bare skin, as he had slid her dress up above her knee. Keith felt a bit weightless, a bit off guard. The contact wasn’t truly over the top, per se, but it was an unmistakable sign of the man’s sexual interest in his wife – as well as a sign of Sarah’s acceptance of the same.
“Babe,” Sarah began in a slightly broken tone, “Curt was telling me about his TV. It’s one of those OLED models we were talking about.”
Curt chimed in smoothly. “It’s a new LG; a flagship model seventy inch screen. Sarah was telling me that you two were considering upgrading your set at home.”
“Uh-huh,” Keith answered dumbly. Truth be told, he thought that there had been all of three sentences between he and his wife about a new TV; the fact was, the Fullers didn’t watch much television to begin with, and Sarah probably cared less about having the latest technology than Keith did. While Keith tried to not look directly at what was going on, it was obvious that Curt was slowly working his way up Sarah’s leg; as a matter of fact, his hand was now almost completely hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. For her part, Keith’s wife seemed flustered, a little distant; her gaze seemed to stay mostly fixed ahead as opposed to her making eye contact with either of the men.
“My condo is only ten minutes away,” the older man offered. “If the two of you would like to see one in a real-life setting – as opposed to hanging on a huge wall with thirty other screens in some store.”
The bar felt like it was spinning around Keith. He and Sarah had talked about this, fantasized about this. He had chosen this bar on the hopes that she would get hit on… well, here they were, in a bar with some stranger’s hand on his wife’s leg underneath her dress, with the man inviting them over to his place in the most flimsy and obvious of pretenses.
The offer hung there in the air, lost in the noise and bustle of the crowded bar. Sarah turned to look at her husband; her face was a tapestry of conflicting emotions, with apprehension and arousal swirling across the brunette’s features. Suddenly, her gaze went unfocused, and her mouth opened in a surprised little “o” shape; Keith sat for several confused moments, was about to ask her what was wrong, when he glanced down and realized that Curt’s hand was now very far up underneath Sarah’s dress. Judging from the look of things, he was to her panties, with the angle of her legs being perhaps the only thing stopping him from probing her vagina with one of his fingers.
Keith realized that he was at a very real crossroads. It was obvious to him that one way or another, it was time to leave the bar. He could pack up his wife, bid Curt a good night, and walk away with their relationship (relatively) unscathed. There might be some heavy conversation to follow, but if they wanted to restrict this to fantasy and dirty talk, now was the time to act.
On the other hand, they could drive to this guy’s house under the guise of checking out this fancy television. Obviously, any idiot would know that you don’t invite a couple over to actually show off your TV when you are stroking the woman’s panties under her dress in public. Accepting the offer was basically agreeing to some sort of sexual contact with this stranger; Keith’s mind reeled that he was actually even considering it.
Sarah seemed to regain focus and was looking a Keith, but her green eyes held a real expression of… pleading. She was seeking action from her husband, but what exactly was she hoping for? What choice should Keith make, especially since his wife seemed to be leaving it up to him?
Once again, Curt spoke up. “I also have a nice surround sound system, so you can really get the full experience of what that set can offer.” His tone was mild, as if he truly were only discussing the television, and not propositioning the couple for sex play.
Keith glanced at Sarah’s pleading expression and swallowed before speaking. “Um… ah, sure, Curt. It might be nice to get a good look at your television for ourselves,” he stated carefully. “Maybe see if it’s the sort of set we want to buy.”
Curt grinned widely, withdrew his hand from beneath Sarah’s dress, and flagged down the bartender. “I’d like to close, please!” he spoke out. He gestured at the Fullers. “I’ll be grabbing their tab, as well.”
Sarah looked at Keith, her expression unreadable. He shivered as they stood up and headed out of the bar.
