They Gave Her Pussy a Name

We called it Clara, my wife' middle name, and it was a way to talk about sex in front of other people with out them knowing what we were talking about, although I am sure a few perceptive people caught on to our little game right away, but it was also a way to talk about her affair with a man named Ross, who she met at a business conference in Los Angeles and fucked for nearly two days straight. She said didn't actually go to many of the sessions at the conference, since she was busy with another matter.

We were at a dinner party at the home of her straight-laced boss Marianne and during dinner I asked my wife how Clara had said her night had been. I hadn't seen my wife since early the morning before because she was spending last night at a hotel with Ross. We met at Marianne's house that night, since she had come straight from the Marriott after staying over night with her new, very good friend Ross.

She looked up at me timidly, smiled, and told me Clara had said it had been a wonderful time. "I'm really glad," I said. "She really deserves a satisfying schedule." Ellen blushed and looked down at her plate. "It's so good to see someone enjoy what they're doing," I went on.

The people around us agreed and nodded, then kept eating. "Did she get a good workout?" I asked, pushing the envelope to ridiculous levels.

Ellen simply nodded and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "Does she get out often?" I asked, going even further with the witty comments. She said she seems to and I said, "Good. Exposure is important in her field."

"What does she do?" asked a elderly woman sitting next to Ellen.

"Same as Ellen," I said. "Real-estate." They nodded again as if they agreed that it was good to be in that field and knew what we were talking about. Ellen blushed and I knew she wanted me to end that bit of the conversation, so I smiled at her and put my hand over hers. "It's good she was able to get out," I added and started to eat again. Ellen stifled a laugh and took a bite.

I thought about how scandalized the people at the table would be if they knew I was talking about my wife being fucked giddy by a man she wasn't married to all night in a classy hotel in the next city and had my approval.

Marianne asked Ellen how the business conference had gone, the one where she met Ross. "It was very effective," she said, trying to be evasive. "Very, very well put together. Everything worked really well," she said, taking up my measure of irony. Marianne said she was glad to hear it and Ellen almost choked on her water.

After dinner Ellen and I met in the living room and I took her arm and said how lovely she looked. "I'll bet Clara really looked nice with her new hair cut," I said, referring to the pubic shave I had given her before she left to meet Ross. "How did he like it?" I asked.

Ellen blushed and said he did, that he really did think it was beautiful. "That's because it is very beautiful," I said. "It maybe one of the best cuts ever." We both grinned and she led me away to the garden.

"Talking about Clara is one thing, but bringing her up so often during dinner is not very wise. People are not quite that dumb," she said. I said no one here knows about Ross, so they couldn't possibly catch on to our little word game."

We walked through the garden and I asked how she liked her night. "I really, really did," she said with a wide and blushing smile. "It was a really nice night. We... they, had a great time together. He will be back in July," she said. "I can hardly wait a month."

"Well, you always have me," I said. "Not a handsome boyfriend, but I do my best."

"And your best is wonderful," she said. "I have never complained. When I told you about Ross, you encouraged me to meet with him, to 'broaden the relationship.'" I kissed her and said I know I did and did not regret it.

"It's so nice to see the red flush back in your cheeks," I said. "You look like a very satisfied woman these days after meeting Ross. I don't regret a thing." We had come in separate cars, so she followed me home and in the driveway I kissed her again and led her into the house. In our bedroom I began helping her out of her clothes and asked if she'd tell me all about her night at the Marriott.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, kissing me on the lips and folding her clothes and putting them on the settee.

"Just how did he treat Clara?" I asked. "Did he handle her with kid gloves. Did he kiss and fondle her like a heartsick lover?"

"He does, yes," she said. "He was very professional, very solicitous. He kissed and fondled her a great deal, spent a lot of time looking at her, admiring her. He does think she is quite beautiful."

"Smart man," I said. "He knows a piece of art when he sees it."

We both laughed and climbed into bed. She was still rather randy, even after her night of sex with Ross, and I slipped my erection into her well-fucked pussy without a bit of trouble, she was still well lubricated and wet form her time in bed with Ross. "Does he fuck as good as he looks?" I asked.

"Shut up and service your wife," she said, giving me a stiff poke in the ribs. "I promise to tell you all about it later, every juicy detail, every hump, every lick and suck, every thing you hunger for, after you make me have a formidable orgasm and we get some sleep."

I went to sleep that night thinking of Ross pushing his stiff cock into my wife's newly shaved pussy, her hips bucking up towards his, her nipples firm and erect, her breasts round and perky, and her face and neck red with arousal. It is actually good to have your wife fucking another man to occupy her time, to keep her out of trouble during these days of conflict and disorder, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

In the morning I asked Ellen how Clara was doing this morning. "She's doing fine, thank you," she said with a good-morning I've-been- nicely-fucked smile. We ate a slow breakfast and she told me about meeting Ross at the Marriott and how they undressed one another at the door to the hotel room and he carried her to the bed naked, then laid her down and took her hungrily.

"He really does like oral," she said with a gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. "And he does it so very well." I asked what he liked best and she said, "Probably eating my pussy. Who wouldn't? He did that most of the night. I think I came ten or twenty times that day, a few times even before we actually got to the hotel."

I asked her to tell me about that, and she described him driving her car and fingering her as he drove. "He left his car at the parking garage and we took mine. He really is a good one handed driver," she said with a laugh.

A month later she was meeting Ross again at the Marriott and I was staying home watching the Dodgers on television. In the bottom of the ninth the phone rang and it was Ellen, telling me that Ross had asked if her husband had any voyeur in him. I said that all depends. "He wants to know if you want to watch," she said. "Some husbands who share their wives like to watch her getting fucked. He just wants to know if you have any interest in seeing him fuck me dopey. I said I did and she asked how fast I could get to the Marriott.

"Faster than a speeding bullet," I said, getting up and turning off the game.

I got to the hotel in thirty minutes and told the clerk my wife was in room 113. He looked at me like I was a martian and asked if I needed a key. I told him I would knock, "Don't want to barge in on the happy couple," I said.

When I got to room 113 I knocked lightly on the door. "Who's there?" my wife asked jokingly.

"Room service," I said.

"We don't want any," she said.

"Medical personnel," I said.

"Okay, leave whatever you have at the door," she said. "No body here needs a doctor."

"You need to sigh for it," I said.

"Okay, ten minutes," she replied.

Then she opened the door and pulled me in. "You up for a little spectating?" she asked.

"I'd even watch you mow the lawn," I said as I followed her into the room, nodded at Ross, and closed the door behind me.

"You usually do," she quipped as she pulled me by my tie over to where Ross sat on the bed, his clothes piled neatly on the chair.

"You want to watch him fuck me and see if you can learn anything?" she asked as she sat me in a chair by the corner. I watched her naked bottom as it climbed into the bed, then Ross took her in his arms and said over his shoulder, "Hi, I'm Ross. I the one going to fuck your wife until her pussy shuts down."

"I hope you have reinforcements, because that is too big a job for one man," I said as I relaxed back in the chair. "My wife fucks a whole regiment of soldiers and never gets tired," I said. As I was talking Ross began to kiss parts of Ellen's body that don't usually get attention. He turned her facedown and began kissing and licking her bare bottom.

"Ah, sweet, sweet backdoor," he said, parting her asscheeks with his fingers and putting his tongue on her puckered anus. She put her forehead down on the pillow and sighed as he licked her bottom. She raised her bottom off the bed slightly, forcing her cheeks apart and keeping her head on the pillow.

I watched Ross lick my wife's ass for a few more minutes before she turned over and spread her legs for him. He maintained his oral attack on her privates until she began to cry out in gleeful shrieks of pleasure.

"Oh God yes," she yelled, as he focussed on her clit. "You can't imagine how good that feels," she cried. "Yes, don't stop, please don't stop."

When she got home the following morning, I asked how Clara liked her time at the hotel. "She said it was fan-fucking-tastic," she said. We went right into the bedroom and she crawled sleepily under the covers. I didn't see her again until nearly eleven o'clock that night.

"What would Marianne think of your extracurricular activities?" I asked as she hobbled into the kitchen.

"I think she would be jealous, but I don't think she has had sex since Carter was president," she said with a smirk.

"So how is Clara this morning?" I asked as I planted a kiss on her cheek.

"She is a little sore," she said. "Two men a night is more than she's used to. A girl has to keep her pussy happy these days," she added. "You never know when you might need her support, but I think Clara needs some rest. To stay beautiful, you have to make sure you're not overdoing it."

I took her into my arms and we kissed. It was a very warm and married-couple kiss that said we were thankful to have one another in our lives. "Save her strength," I said, "because you're going to need it this weekend."

She pulled back away from me and asked what was happening this weekend. "It's our big trip to Mammoth," I said. "Your next business conference," I added. "You never know when Clara will be needed."

We laughed and hugged until the coffee machine started buzzing.