OK, for those of you who haven't read the first installment here, I'm Ed. Sharon is my wife who hosted a live modeling class at their home since their instructor, Adele, was on vacation. I was surprised to find that it was a live modeling class but went along with things when Sharon assured me it was only art, nothing else, going on. When the model canceled at the last minute, Sharon convinced me to substitute for the day. Accordingly, I had stripped off and stood motionless in several different poses for the better part of an hour while the four ladies sketched whatever they chose - I assumed it was me, but I was just there as a model. Margaret and Julia were students who attended but left before the scheduled hour was finished, claiming an appointment but I think maybe were just turned off by the situation since it didn't fit their gender preference. Annette, the slim Southern minx, stayed, and while Sharon was seeing the other two women to the door, Annette verbally, then with her hand, teased naked me easily to erection, just as Sharon reentered, seeing the shocking development. Being the good model, I wasn't exactly fighting Annette off, which didn't help, no doubt. Busted, Annette countered to an angry Sharon, "Get over it!" and that it wasn't as if I were the only one who'd enjoyed something on the side. Sharon, shocked anew by her friend's accusation, cried, "Annette!"
And Annette replied, "Oh, you mean he doesn't know about us?"
Sharon, mortified, was speechless. My mind was churning, trying to catch up. One minute I was enjoying the hell out of my first extracurricular episode in the marriage, getting stroked by a very cute, very brash, verbally erotic woman I hardly knew. The next, I was busted, trying like hell to figure out how I was going to weasel my way out of having my dick in Annette's hand, which was pretty undeniable, and the next I was hearing - was this right? - that my dear devoted wife had been messing with the minx beforehand?! Was I busted and guilty, or was she busted and guilty, or was I just reading that quick outburst all wrong and if I said anything would be busted and guilty and exposed as a perv, or what?! Indecision ever the key to flexibility, I kept my mouth shut.
"Ah," Annette cooed, "I see. Nothing like a little righteous indignation laid low by the light of day, and all that. You: stay here," she ordered me, and of course, I did, my erection bobbing regretfully in the air as she let it go.
Crossing over to a now fuming Sharon, Annette folded her in her arms, consoling her. She whispered in Sharon's ear something I couldn't make out, and stroked Sharon's back. Sharon stood rigid, her hands by her sides, her arms inside Annette's. Annette persisted, gently stroking and whispering more, her body pressed into Sharon's.
Annette is slim and wore a pale, midriff-length tank top with tight black bike-style shorts (without the padded seat inserts - I'd certainly confirmed that much earlier in the day). I couldn't really tell her breast size, but figured it was a B at most, a delicious A more probably. I would have checked out more, but I was being a staring into the distance model earlier and my mind was elsewhere once Sharon had left the scene. Annette also had a very cute butt that did those shorts justice - they looked painted on. Sharon had on an untucked, hostess-proper loose blouse, thin enough to confirm she was wearing a standard, pretty uninteresting bra, and blue jeans that were somewhat paint-spattered - her usual painting class attire as I recalled.
After several minutes of consolation, I saw Sharon's hands rise and hold to Annette's waist, then wrap around her back. Whatever Annette was saying was mollifying Sharon, I was sure. Then I saw that Annette wasn't whispering, she was kissing Sharon's ear and neck now - whoa! Nice segue, Annette!! I also heard some faint murmuring, not sure which, or maybe both, it was coming from.
Finally, Annette whispered some more, then giggled, and Sharon giggled back. Then they turned to look at me, each with an arm around the other's waist. I was still sitting on the forward edge of a backless stool, just as I had been, one foot on a rung of it, the other on the floor, my balls hanging over the front edge, but my erection had soon gone from Annette's letting it go and Sharon's expletives, and then it got back in the recovery phase watching the two of them together.
I was back up to about half hard, I'd guess, and definitely confused.
"OK, Ed," Annette started, clearly being the lead of whatever was going on, and of whatever might be going on soon. "You look confused, bless your heart. Well, while it's not something that we've continued, contrary to my hopes, I might add - I think you deserve to know that one night after class, and after several glasses of wine, I induced Sharon to come by my place for some bullshit reason, and I seduced her."
"Annette!" Sharon objected again, her vocabulary down to single words in the situation.
"Well, it wasn't quite that crass, by any means, but we ended up exploring each other a bit, and as I recall, we both enjoyed it, although Sharon went all guilt trip on herself when we were sort of done. She insisted we never pursue that again, and she fled back to you, and that was a couple of months ago, so there. She was, I must say, an eager and adept student for her first time with a woman - and she's so beautiful - you're a lucky guy."
"I, on the other hand," she continued, am pretty much an "omni-sexual" being, downright polymorphously perverse in Freudian terminology. I find joy and pleasure in both sexes and even in parts of the body that aren't usually considered erotic, and am comfortable with that. I do choose very carefully, and am far from being promiscuous about it - I just fantasize a lot and participate a little and enjoy those rare moments, such as Sharon and I shared."
"And, Ed," from your state, I'm wondering - are you turned on by the image of your wife with another woman, or turned off by the prospect of her having a life outside your bedroom, or some of both, or . . .?"
"Er, this is all coming at me pretty quickly," I admitted. "But all told, I think that it's good she doesn't need to hide whatever happened anymore, and it's an immense turn-on to think of the two of you together!" There, I'd taken my side, and I was relieved - and yes, turned on.
"Well then, why don't you just watch a bit?"