This story is not about sexual pain and suffering, not about marital discord or anguish, not about what some people may think marriage should be about. It just may be too Pollyanna for your tastes, so if you want adversaries and anguish, or normal fidelity and divorce consequence, stop reading. If you want conflict and routine life bitterness, it is not for you.
I don't exactly know when things changed, but about three yeas ago we both, about at the same time, became interested in other people without conflict or anguish or bitterness. For her it was Peter, our good friend and close associate who had lost his wife two years before, who was a long-time confidant who had slowly gotten closer and almost suddenly was her love interest. For me it was Connie, one of her good friends she had felt comfortable enough with to suggest I take her to a play. The play was Rent and things went fine, but it had changed, somehow. All I knew was that things were different. My wife and I had intimate friends now and we were open and honest about it.
For her Peter came for dinner and she asked him to dance, not all that unusual, but what was unusual was the way they danced. They held one another so close, moved so slowly, so romantically, that I was surprised that neither one had an orgasm on the dance floor. They even kissed passionately when the music stopped. Kissing him was not surprising, but the passion was totally new. It was as if they had decided that at that moment on they would be intimate. Yes, and the kiss was as intimate as you could get without penetration.
The funny thing was, it didn't bother me at all. I even mentioned to her after the dance how good they looked together. She smiled, not arguing and nodded, as if she had seen herself with him in a mirror. "We did, didn't we," she said with a knowing smile.
"You going to fuck him," I asked nonchalantly, as if I knew that was coming.
"Yes," she said casually, like it was prearranged, already decided.
"When?" I asked, as if asking about the weather.
"Tonight," she said without missing a beat.
She didn't come to our bed that night and in the morning when she came in I asked how it was, as if I was sure it had happened, as if for sure she had fucked him, since for reasons that were obvious, I knew it had. For a certainty, I had no doubt that my good friend Peter had fucked my wife, Claire, and I was sure she liked it, really, really liked it. I knew from the moment I saw them dance and nearly copulate on the dance floor that it would be happening soon and it would be good and it would be satisfying for both of them, and I really wanted that to happen.
What was perhaps the strangest thing, was that there was no resentment, no anger, jealousy, or hurt. Perhaps it was where we were in our marriage, in our lives, in our maturity, or maybe it was all of that. I just don't know, but none of the usual things about affairs, marital infidelity, or midlife crisis seemed to apply. We just began feeling different about sex in our marriage.
It my be the strangest thing in the world to know your wife is fucking someone else and be okay with it, to actually be happy for her, for both of them, but that is what happened. We both suddenly were fine with all things extramarital. I was fine with her being with Peter, in fact doing anything she wanted with Peter was okay with me, and she was copasetic with whatever I could think of doing with Connie. She told me that and I believed her.
As I said it came all at once, without warning or flashing lights. I was a normal jealous husband and then I wasn't. I was faithfully attached, and then I wasn't, except that we were still attached intellectually, legally, and spiritually, just not sexually.
She was totally sexually connected to Peter, and that was fine, and I had hot pants for Connie, and my wife was all for it. Okay, it sounds impossible, even as I say it, but that is the way it was.
Peter is completely and openly demonstrative with my wife and I actually enjoy seeing it. Yes, I actually like it. When he comes to pick her up, he kisses her passionately at the door and I actually smile inside and out. When he takes a handful of her bottom it pleases me that he feels he can do that in front of me. She turns to me, as if to say, "You see that? He has such fine hands."
I have told her to let him know I don't mind him showing affection and he is very willing to comply. I actually came home one day and they were having sex on the futon in the den and I literally stood and watched for a few minutes. They saw me and smiled in unison. I nodded to them and left the room. It was actually nice to have them see me and not freak out. She was on top of him, which she prefers, and casually waved at me like she'd seen a friend at the park. I know some people find this really weird, but after that dinner with Peter and what I call her 'fornication dance of devotion', things could not be better for us as a couple or as simply contented people who love one another.
I am not sure I can explain it, but after twenty years together we simply got to the point we didn't need to restrict one another any longer, we knew we were in love and sex was not the defining condition. It wasn't that we didn't want sex with each other anymore, because we do and enjoy it together just like we always have.
It is that now neither of us feels we have to be sexual with only each other, and exclude all others. It may just be a natural evolution in relationships, because that is the way it feels. One day I was a husband who guarded my mate aggressively and the next day I wasn't. Nothing in me changed, except my attitude about possessiveness, ownership, and unconditional love. Suddenly I was happy for my wife if she had a lover and yesterday I wouldn't have been. It may just be that simple.
Last month the four of us--Connie, Claire, Peter, and myself--went on a real double date to a hotel restaurant for dinner and for whatever else came up. What came up was the idea by my wife to get two rooms and have a sleepover with one couple (Claire and Peter) in one room, and the other (Connie and me) next door.
"We could visit during the night between whatever," she said with a saucy grin. "It will be fun having good friends close," she added.
Connie and I went to our room next door to my wife and Peter, and each couple could hear the muffled voices of the other just behind the door to the next room. When the muffled voices stopped we figured it was that they were engaged in other things that required them not to talk. Moaning could not be heard, but I figured much of it was going on in each room. I could hear Connie's, and it was constant and deep as I dined on her slick slit and licked up and down on her shiny labia lips.
