Loving Husband/loving Wife

For two days I vented. Hating and silently cursing modern technology. "Information Technology" they call it. Our acquired dependency on the damned stuff. Televisions, cell phones, lap tops, dozens of other computer chip gadgets that make up our primary confirmation we are alive and functioning. And from that I only asked for, and paid for, a minor sample of IT to record my wife fucking another man. And it went glitch, like they all do sooner or later. I only heard a part of what happened. I had to imagine the rest.

On the second day I came home and Jill was out. I called her on my cell, the IT gadget I couldn't live without.

"Sorry, Jack. I should have called you. I had some errands to run. I'll be back shortly."

She came back more longly than shortly. I was about to get antsy. When I saw her I had a complete revolution of mood swing. Man did she look good! Over the past year or so she had revamped her wardrobe, and with unerring verve and aesthetic sensitivity had adapted young woman sexy fashion to perfectly match her fifty two years. She wore a long batik skirt in earth tones that kind of wrapped her like a sarong. It revealed the lines of her hips and legs. It made a strong suggestion it could quickly unwrap. Her blouse was cream color soft and clinging material, puffed short sleeves and a scalloped neck line of daring reveal. Inviting. She wore Senorita type gold hoop ear rings. She was a knock out! Sexy and beautiful.

"I've been with Steve," she said.

I had another instant three hundred sixty degree mood shift.

"Whoa..."

"Hang on, hang on. We had a long talk."

"You sang him his swan song of one and done."

"Sort of..."

"Jill..."

"Fix us some drinks. You will find this interesting."

God. "Interesting," she said. How enormous understatement can sometimes be. How beguiling my wife can sometimes be! I couldn't get a clear reading of just what mood her demeanor was conveying as I poured us Merlot to drink. It was something like one time I will never forget, when she marched into the den and said to me, "I have a plan." I don't recall exactly what the plan was about, but her unexpected body language and eye expression gave those four words importance and accomplishment that left a delighted imprint on my brain. I had a strong feeling that Jill "had a plan."

"Okay," she said. "Here's the deal. He called me yesterday."

"You failed to mention that yesterday."

"I did. For a reason. I've been thinking of us listening to the recording."

"So have I! And the damned thing cutting out right in the middle."

"It was so strange, hearing myself. So strangely exciting. But hearing and thinking about it, I remembered things that really got me to thinking. Your fleeting place in our conversations. You know, we seemed to have lost sight of the possibility of me finding a man for a threesome when I go solo. The more I thought about listening to the record, the more I thought that Steve might be suitable for us."

"Any specific recall?"

"That's just it. Nothing specific. All intuitive sense. He is an evolved and sophisticated man. That kind of hovered over us in all our courtship and certainly when we got together for sex. The more I remembered from the record, the more I felt sure he could ease into a threesome with us, without knowing that at all, if you follow what I'm saying."

"I'm trying my best. Your not exactly following a straight line."

She laughed. Guilty and happy. "Well, I called him today. Asked to meet and talk."

"Where?"

"His house, as it turned out."

She fucked him again. I had no doubt at all.

"He wants to meet you," she said. "Talk it over."

Her lips had a wide smile. Her eyes a gleam. She was chuffed with triumph. A woman with a plan.

"Uh... I see." I said, feeling hollow in my solar plexis, floored. "Just how did you two arrive at that?"

She sipped her drink and eyed me with that telling gleam, lids relaxed, in charge.

"With bold and daring finesse on my part. And a little white lying."

Teasing me. Toying with me. Reverting to a moment of slutty game playing.

"First, of course, was a long bout of passionate kissing. That was out of our control. But I collected myself and said 'There is something we need to talk about, Steve.' He certainly didn't panic. He is a smoothie, like I told you. I told him that you knew, that I had confessed to you."

"Bold and daring. And he said...?"

"That is the interesting part. He said it crossed his mind that you and I might have a special arrangement. Partly because I was so unruffled in falling into a sexual fling with him, and because he was aware that married couples our ages sometimes agreed outside affairs were permissible. That likelihood got a boost when you called me and I took the call in front of him and spoke so nonchalantly to you. He's a smoothie for sure. That inspired me to conceal the truth in a lie. I told him we did have an understanding, but not quite what he was thinking. I told him you had shared me with another man in a threesome two or three times over the course of our marriage.

"That surprised him. I could see gears in his head spinning at full speed. He wanted to know what our afternoon in the hotel was all about, really? I told him it was all about me, responding to him, becoming infatuated, getting hot as hell for his body. Technically the truth, for we had sort of forgot about me looking for a threesome man. And that our afternoon had proven him to be a wonderful lover that thrilled me and pleased me most fully. Then he wanted to know exactly what your reaction was when I confessed to you.

"I said you were shocked, at first. But after a long talk you remembered watching other men take me on the same bed, and your shock that I had fucked him took a different course. That my being with him brought back that same shattering excitement you knew when you watched other men fuck me on the same bed. A whopper of a lie, of course. But he seemed to buy it. He was intrigued for sure. He wanted to know just were we all stood now. I told him I wanted you with me if I fucked him again. That's just the way it was.

"He didn't know what to say. He admitted that was way outside his sexual experience, which he thought was quite broad. He couldn't understand how you could go along with it. I told him it was a very singular meeting of minds and capacities that led us to our first other man, but it was a deeply thrilling and rewarding experience for both of us. We cherished the memories of our threesomes, and had no regrets at all. I assured him we hadn't set him up. The idea was all mine. His fucking me that afternoon was so perfectly wonderful I could not live with myself if I didn't tell you. Hope you would understand. Hope with me that Steve might become a new partner for us."

"It all sounds like a masterful presentation," I said. "You think it was convincing?"

"Oh I think it was. Some delayed reaction time might be called for. He will think about it. A lot. I feel sure. I sweetened the pot."

"You fucked him again."

"Yes I did, Jack. I sucked his cock again, but not to orgasm. I opened my legs for him to fuck me. I broke our rule. With deliberate and calculated risk. He wanted me one more time all for himself. He enjoyed me very, very much. But I thought of you while he fucked me. As much as I thought of him. When I left my last words to him were, 'This is our last private sex. If we do this again, my husband must be with us.' His last words to me were, 'I want to meet your husband. Talk it over.'"

*****

I had to think it over before talking it over with Steve. Review my talking over invitations to previous men to enjoy my wife with me present. My exposure, my requirement to explain how a husband and wife could mutually desire such sexual excitement so far outside the norm, while at the same time clearly establishing I was Jill's husband by every standard of social and cultural construct. That no man could ever displace me or replace me in Jill's life and heart. And by eye contact alone, conveying the certainty that any man who was foolish enough to follow a sadistic urge toward Jill, or me, risked severe bodily injury. That had always worked for us before. This time, Jill had already begun the process of my sharing her with another man. It only remained for me to make him agree I must be included in any more my wife chose to give him. Even so, the prospect of "talking it over" with Steve set my nerves on edge.

"Okay. Let's get our details straight. You told him we had two or three threesomes over the course of our marriage?"

"I think that's what I said. Two or three. I know I didn't give any definite number."

"We'll leave it at two or three. Close enough to the actual four."

"Five," she corrected. I gave her a lost look. She ticked off five names on the fingers of her left hand.

"Damn. I forgot all about Jerry."

"Jerry was a sweet guy. He just couldn't let it all go and enjoy me with you there. The others could, and did. Something you couldn't forget."

"Did you give any indications, at any time, of your other solo affairs?"

"Definitely not!"

"We must bury those. As for your cheating on me, for the first time ever, I really don't know. I'll just have to play that by ear. His irresistible attraction for you should do it. We'll have to see. Our threesomes before were always successful because open honesty was demanded. In this case, a little preliminary subterfuge is called for. Don't you agree?"

"Completely."

"Call him. Let's get the ball rolling."

She grabbed her cell with such eagerness she fumbled the buttons and giggled and had to punch them again.

"Steve? Jill. Is this a good time to talk?... I'm sorry... This evening then... Around ninish."

"He is bunsiness swamped right now," she said to me. "Oh Jack, Jack, Jack! He will join us. I just know he will. I can feel it in my bones, and in my pussy. And my God I want it. It's been so very long since my luxury of two men at the same time. You, my one and only love. And Steve...a beautiful man and a superb lover. I am the luckiest woman in the world."

"You are the sexiest woman in the world, without question. But... Let's not count our chickens before they hatch.

Around ninish. "Hello Steve?... How well I know. I'm married to a business man... Yes... In fact, he wants to say hello."

She handed her phone to me.

"Hey Steve... Yes, she told me all... I certainly understand your caution, but I bear you no ill will or threat. You have to take my word on that... That is why we need a long private talk. Mature, civilized, man to man talk.... Are you free this Saturday?... I have a boat at the River Marina, slip nine. What say we meet there, around two? We can talk, private and undisturbed... Of course you will be. I will be nervous too. We will just have to overcome our nerves... Around two this Saturday... Stop worrying about that. It was a shock, sure. When I first heard. But I adjusted. Old and very exciting real experience was revived. My wife was totally honest in describing the range and force of your attraction for her. She was equally frank in her praise of your abilities. I accepted what she did with no anger or trauma. I believe she told you why... That is why we need to meet and talk." *****

My boat is unlike any other on the river that splits our city. It is a one off fiber glass hull, designed by a New York naval architect, built in Florida. It is based on the lines of Chinese cargo Junks pulled or poled on the Yangtese River for hundreds of years. It is fifty five feet long and sixteen feet wide. It was designed for maximum comfort in camping out on the river for as long as I wanted. It had the speed to skirt dangers of commercial barge traffic, but otherwise speed didn't matter. There were two steering stations, one near the bow, and the main one as super structure toward the stern, with full visibility in all directions.

I sat in the high rear station, watching the dock. My insides a squirming flutter of nerves. Unlike most all other forms of human intercourse, a husband offering his wife to another man for his sexual enjoyment has no common guide lines. It is extremely high risk, like walking down a dark alley in the seedy side of town. All senses and extra-sensory mechanics are on high alert. Knowing you are walking down that dark alley, taking the risk, by conscious choice. But at the same time fully confident you will make short work of any form of attack coming from the shadows.

Steve Larsen appeared in full sunlight, walking on the dock boards, checking out the sketchy directions I had given. I came down, off, out on the narrow wood side walk.

"You must be Steve."

"I am. And you must be Jack."

"Welcome aboard LADY JILL." That was the identifier emblazoned in gilt paint on the stern. My welcome bore a double entendre he caught at once, and he seemed to visibly relax on flexible curiosity, even though he was very much walking down a dark alley on the seedy side of town. But he had confidence of his own, in his physical prowess to defend himself if it came to a crunch. That is the sort of autonomic nervous reaction two men can feel at any first meeting. That has a singular elevation when a man is meeting for the first time the husband of a woman he has fucked. Twice. Instant sizing up takes on a new meaning.

Steve was thicker than I expected. His chest, shoulders, back. Evidence of exercising with heavy weights that slacked off some time back. He didn't have a gut, but his belly was not as flat as mine. Over all, his physique was self explanatory of Jill's attraction to him. His face was handsome. The man recorded in the bugged purse that thrilled and satisfied my wife did not disappoint in the flesh. I had no clue what ideas he was forming about me.

As soon as we were aboard, I said, "First off, I clear the air. I am not a time bomb that might go off. Jill told me everything. We had a long talk about it. I am okay with what happened. Now I ask you to let your guard down and be as relaxed as you can. Let's start with a tour. I do take shameless pride in this boat."

He did relax, but as I conducted the tour in the narrow space he kept me at a safe distance. I explained the history of Chinese river junks, the design, the fabrication. That aroused his technical interest. He praised the wood work of mahogany and teak. He relaxed even more. I had brought a plastic pitcher of Margarita's from home, and we sat in the galley to drink and he asked about my business. The typical cock measuring of two successful men meeting and sizing each other up. He had no personal interests in boats, but he did own a plane and a liscense to fly it. A bit of one-upmanship I took in stride.

"I clearly see why you take great pride in LADY JILL," Steve said, smiling a smile with layers of complimentary suggestion.

"A pride much greater than great. She is my joy and delight, my love my life, and the most gracious lady there is."

"Then, may I propose a toast to the beautiful, gracious lady Jill?" He lifted his glass and touched it to mine for a ritual clink. A sophisticated smoothie, just as Jill had described him. His eyes were locked to mine in the toast, putting some questions to rest, bringing other, larger questions to the table.

"And to a special guest and hopefully a friend, invited to cruise on the lady Jill and partake of all her amenities." I said.

A second glass clink toast. And something clicked inside him. Memories of all Jill's amenities, perhaps. A sudden conviction I was disarmed. A sudden surge of sexual stimulation from a potential he didn't really understand but was eager to explore.

"She said something about two or three special guests over the years."

"Four," I lied, removing one from the count because he didn't count, really. "The last guest was nine years ago. We actually had to count back to be certain when. Our threesomes with another man were certainly not a 'life style.' They occurred years apart, and were a rich luxury for her. And tremendously exciting for me."

"This is something outside my experience, and I am far from being a prude."

"You also cannot imagine how a husband could willingly share his wife with another man."

"That is true. I know I couldn't."

"I couldn't have imagined it either, before Jill and I faced that option. There might not be a convincing explanation. I did learn, from limited research of the literature, that many men have the fantasy of watching another man fuck his wife. That is far more common that rare. Those that carry the fantasy to reality, well, who the hell knows?" I took a big swig of Margarita. "To condense a long story, Jill and I reached that plane of total love and honesty and intimacy and trust and openly revealed our sexual histories to each other. Her history was much broader than mine. She had more than a few men before we met. She was, and still is, greatly endowed with a natural, healthy sexuality, and embraces the joy of sexual pleasure with no shame or guilt whatever. When she told me told me a story of one of her past lovers, my reaction was a blind side smack of erotic enflamation that gave me the biggest hard on I ever had. I was split in two with traumatic war fare. My army of manly possession and jealousy was overrun by a more powerful army of erotic excitement that was invincible. I had never experienced such a turn on. And there was no way I could hide it. The biggest hard on I ever had. I pressed for fine details. It was clear to Jill that jealous rage had no place, and my excitement fed her's in equal measure. We discovered something in both of us that was an equal exchange. In short, our hottest fantasy sharing became her with another man with me there. Watching, participating. It was inevitable we would do it for real. We finally did. It was mind blowing good for both of us. The man I chose worked out perfectly, and Jill knew a few hours of luxury more satisfying than fantasy could create."

Steve watched me, entranced. "You know," he said, "I did skate on the edge of that once. My second wife had a bit too much to drink at a country club dance one night, and allowed a flirtation to get out of hand. A married man who was a friend of ours got a boner in the first dance with her. He monopolized her most of the night. Which was no big deal, as I danced with anyone I liked and circulated on my own. They went outside for air and such, and kissed, and he copped some intimate feels. She was badly skaken and told me all when we got home. Shaken in more than one way. She was highly aroused by her naughtiness, and shamed by it. I was furious, but at the same time felt a blast of kinky thrill by what happened. Anyway, I consoled her and let it all pass by. But I cannot deny the kinky thrill of hearing her confess. Nor can I deny that feeling that thrill wasn't confusing and troublesome."

"I know that troubling confusion only too well. It took a long time for me fully accept myself in that regard. And Jill was the key. She accepted that part of me with no reservations, just as I came to accept her part with no reservations, and all the erotic excitement of sharing her with another man became a resource to be indulged on very special occasions, for consensual, liberated enjoyment. As Jill put it: 'Jack, we are husband and wife, joined and united for ever. We control our own lives. We are not obligated to obey a rule book written by someone else. We can do anything we both chose to do in complete agreement.' That's our story. That is why we are now having this discussion."

"What were, are, I should say, the ground rules?"

"The focus is all on her. We join in pleasing her, exciting her, catering to her desires and needs, treating her like a Goddess, with unwavering respect for her personal worth, and feeling privileged to receive all the sexual rewards she will happily give to both of us. Be assured, she won't hold anything back. She will fuck you with the same joy she did at the hotel and at your house."