(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.)
An Almost Perfect Life
John Cromwell
My life was pretty close to perfection, until it wasn't. I had a beautiful wife, four wonderful children. A nice six bedroom home in the suburbs with only fifteen years to go on the mortgage. Our three car garage was full with a sedan, an SUV, and a minivan. Our biggest problem was that our backyard storage house was full. My job was going great guns also. I had put in three years in public accounting and then gone to work as an accountant in a small manufacturer. The manufacturer had grown to medium-sized, and after ten years as Controller, I had recently become the Vice-President of Finance. Although my Controller was still a little green, he knew what he knew and just as important what he didn't know. I realistically only worked about thirty hours a week, because my controller took care of most of the accounting detail, and between my PA and financial analysts, most of the finance work required only some oversight. I had experienced people in Purchasing and Collections so rarely did I need to intervene. A big part of my job was interacting with the less financially astute other executives. A large part of that was accomplished in our Friday afternoon golf outings.
I met Marie while still in college. She was personable, beautiful, and we seemed to want the same things in life. She was an extraordinary specimen of womanhood, the prettiest, most sensual woman I ever went out with. One of the things that we both intensely wanted was each other's bodies. I lost my virginity while still a senior in high school and spent the first three years of college learning how to please women with my above average male appendage and tongue. I met her at the library. We were in one of the reading rooms where I was reading some business journals and she was looking at an art book that seemed to be almost as large as she was. I had a dual major in finance and accounting while she was majoring in fine arts and planning to become a commercial artist.
We became intimate in the backseat of my ten year old hand me down sedan on our first Friday night date. We had already during our first week had a couple of coke dates. At the end of the semester, both of us had only one semester to go, we moved in together, and the rest is history. We had a graduation week wedding and got jobs in a large midwestern city, mine was in public accounting, and hers was for a small advertising firm. The only thing about this Franco-Greek woman that I didn't like was her drawing life models in her art classes.
After four years of apartment living, we bought a starter home just in time for the birth of Aubrey. Marie became a part-time freelance artist and four years later Marie was in her third trimester with Paulette while Charlotte was two, and we upgraded to a much nicer six-bedroom two story home in a gated community. When Ernie joined our family it nicely filled our home with each child having an ensuite bedroom upstairs, and in the adult area downstairs Marie and I shared the master suite with an ensuite guest room at the other end of the downstairs. We had many friends both from the neighborhood, from my high school, which was in the same metro area, and even quite a few college friends that we managed to keep up with. It was a typical suburban lifestyle, football parties, golf and tennis lessons, along with weekend games, barbeques, and occasional dinner parties. We also had lots of birthday parties involving the children and their friends and adult parties which were generally drunken grab-ass-athons with flirting and dancing, and more beer, wine, and liquor than hors d'oeuvres.
As I mentioned above it seemed like an almost perfect life. Our homeowners association took care of the front yard, the pool guy took care of the swimming pool, and I rotated the backyard grass cutting among the teen agers. After twenty-three wonderful years of marriage, Aubrey was a freshman in college, Paula and Charlotte were in high school, while Ernie was in middle school.
Marie had continued her work as a free-lance artist and periodically illustrated children's books and magazine articles. Now she wanted to do something more substantial. With gym workouts three times a week and frequent tennis games, Marie was only one or two sizes larger than she had been in high school. I thought she was sexier now than when I married her, as her physical additions had been in the hips and bust, and she had avoided cellulite. Although we no longer were intimate nine or ten times a week as we were in the early days of our marriage, we were still getting it on four or five times a week, with Marie almost always extremely willing. She found a job with a small firm that identified itself as The Massimo Agency. They seemed to have commissions in advertising, public relations, modeling, and photography. I suspected the scope of their operations would be even larger than that if opportunity knocked.
Marie seemed very enthused with her new job. Although she was an amazing beauty in her early forties, I was still surprised when she told me that the firm had approached her about doing some niche modeling in addition to her primary job as an artist. As there were only around twenty employees, she also occasionally served as a photographer's assistant, including some behind the camera work. Marie always liked to push the limits a little in her party attire; however, the same dress seemed less appropriate for business situations, although I assumed that was just the way things worked in the wonderful worlds of advertising and public relations.
Marie
From the day I met Johnny I knew he was the one. Even now after four children, and over twenty years of marriage, I still got a little thrill when I woke up next to the love of my life. We had had a good life. No emotional hiccups as our lovely children negotiated puberty and began negotiating the roller coaster of middle and high school society. I felt a little guilty about the turn my professional career had taken, but it was so much fun that I couldn't stop. It was almost like a narcotic for which I continually needed a fix.
In college I had been an artist in drawing classes with life models, so I was used to being around unclothed models. I had been surprised when my supervisor approached me about doing some modeling. I mean, I was a forty-plus year old woman with no previous modeling experience. At first it was dresses, and slacks, which morphed into lingerie and swimsuits, and then nude modeling, still ostensibly fashion or artistic modeling. I don't know exactly why but it was naughty, exciting, and just plain thrilling to add nude modeling to my responsibilities at Massimo. I had been modeling sans clothes for 'saucy' photographs for a while, when I had a session with a twenty-something year old model named Roberto. Modeling, particularly nude modeling with a male model, was still new enough to me that it was exciting and arousing. We were during a particularly provocative scene with my lying supine on a sofa and Roberto on his side supported by his lower arm. We weren't quite sure what to do with his other arm. He run it around one of my nipples and then ran it across my stomach to my genitals. I was already wet when he first touched me and that really set me off. When he kissed me, it quickly became big-time make out city. Reflexively, I wrapped my arms and legs around him. Rolf, the photographer, kept the camera running. Roberto paused in his stimulation of my clit and slit to guide his organ into me, and nothing existed for me except for the wonderful things he was doing to me as he kissed, fondled my breasts, and fucked my brains out. I had some of the biggest orgasms of my entire life as Rolf, the camera man continuously took photos, while capturing video of our performance at the same time. Knowing that it was all being photographed added to my excitement; I didn't find out until later that video was being captured at the same time.
After I came five or six times, I felt I couldn't thrust my hips forward any more, Roberto ejaculated. I wanted him to hold me, but that was not to be. He and Rolf exchanged positions, except that before violating my married cunt for only the third time, he rolled me over onto my stomach. He began banging the shit out of me. Roberto moved the camera toward my head so he could capture my facial expressions as I continued to climax like there was no tomorrow.
When Rolf ejaculated, I was again denied after care, as he rushed out of the room to see the captured pictures and video on his computer. Roberto helped me get dressed, and I returned to my desk, wondering how this had just happened to me.
Around a half hour later, my boss called me and asked me to report to the CEO's office. I wondered if I was going to be fired or what? Both my boss and the CEO were seated with big smiles on their faces.
The CEO started, "Rolf just showed us the rushes of your afternoon session, and both Harry and I think it is absolutely amazing. Harry confessed to me that he hadn't realized that you had that kind of performance in you. We would both like to see more of the woman of the hour. Would you mind disrobing?"
I didn't know what to do. Not only was I feeling fantastic, but I was actually feeling the first tinglings of arousal, even though it had been less than an hour since the most thorough fucking of my life. I didn't quite seem myself as I passively removed my garments one by one until I stood nude before them. It was clear where this was going as both had removed their trousers.
Of course, I should have kept my clothes on, and of course, I shouldn't have sat down on the CEO's couch and spread my legs, but I was already looking forward to my fourth and fifth dicks since my marriage. A transition had taken place in me, and I thoroughly enjoyed the next thirty or forty minutes of being spread on the CEO's couch and bent over his desk. On the way home after work, I mentally prepared myself to meet my husband, by coaching myself to act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Over the next few weeks my colleagues took full advantage of my newly found wantonness; I was probably averaging three or four liaisons a day, more if we were shooting a modeling session. In these sessions I not only willingly let all three of my larger holes be filled at the same time, I screwed large black dicks, small white ones, medium yellow ones, small blacks, and large whites in numerous configurations as measured by thickness and length. I cut Johnny back to a maximum of once or twice on workdays, but I pretty much made up for it on the weekends, sometimes doing him as many as eight times from Friday evening until Monday morning.
I should have been ashamed of myself, but I was enjoying the almost continual sex too much. It still excited me to be naughty before the camera; it didn't seem to matter how many times I did it.
As the scope of my sexual intimacy expanded to other models, photographers, and executives, I didn't even realize that the X-rated photos were being supplemented by videos. Even when I found out that the videos were being distributed through exclusive private but highly remunerative channels I never stopped. I was having too much fun. As middle age was gradually reducing Johnny's sex drive, mine was increasing. I had no qualms about what I was doing, as long as my duplicity remained undiscovered. I managed to convince myself that what Johnny didn't know wouldn't hurt him. I don't think Johnny suspected anything even though my sex drive on weekends was increasing, somewhat offset by a diminishment of my sex drive on week nights.
My love and respect for Johnny remained undiminished although my fidelity had totally cratered. That some of my sessions were being videoed for semi-commercial distribution only added to the excitement and fun. I was a little concerned at what Johnny's reaction would be if he found out, but as the weeks passed with no issues rising, discovery became a worry far from my mind. That all changed when Johnny came by the Massimo office to take me to lunch.
Johnny
I had a late morning appointment with a banker regarding a line of credit. Since it was not that far to Marie's office, I called and asked if she wanted lunch with her husband. She acquiesced and as usual, I waited in the reception area for her. The receptionist had stepped away from her desk, and while standing near her desk waiting for her return. I noticed a somewhat lurid DVD cover on her desk. It had two black men sandwiching a very blonde, very white, very scantily clad, woman. It took a moment for me to recognize that the scantily clad filling for the sandwich was my lovely wife Marie. I was in almost total and complete shock but managed to take a cell phone photo of the cover.
