Unconventional

She is the most traditional woman I know in so many ways. She loves to cook, is a den mother for our son's scout troop, makes most of children's clothes, is the PTA president, is a therapist who has her own office, and dresses like a professional woman with style and grace, but she just loves sex. When she is aroused, she will do about anything, and early in our relationship she told me without hesitation she most likely would not be able to be faithful.

We had sex on our first date and it was incredible, like nothing I had ever experienced. Oh, we have squabbles, like all couples, but it nearly always ends in makeup sex, which is unbelievable. When she told me she probably wouldn't be able to be faithful, she made sure to make love to me like I never had been before.

Unlike most women, she loves porn, delights in making love in front of an audience, and has done most everything sexually. The first time she gave me head I couldn't believe it. She told me she read books on techniques, websites about oral sex, and had worked to perfect her natural talents as well as she occasionally lectures on the subject.

She truly enjoys telling me about past sexual encounters, and is willing to give lusty details that keep me listening and savoring the experience my wife once had. She has told me about group sex, giving head to men she knew, and even having sex with women. She gives lurid detail, and will repeat one if I have a favorite, which I have quite a few.

Our relationship started, almost by accident, as I had gone to the wrong house to meet a friend. I was surprised when a woman answered the door. When I asked for Tom, she grinned. "That's the dumbest come on line ever," she said.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Unless you are really looking for Tom," she said.

"I am sorry to say, I really am," I said.

"Now that is better," she said with a wicked smile. "But I am sorry you really are looking for Tom," she said in her usual no nonsense style, which I was just learning. "You are much better looking than my usual door knockers."

"Why thank you," I said, "but I really am looking for Tom. But I wish I wasn't," I said with as much of a winning smile as I could generate.

"Since he is not here, and most likely won't be, would you like to come in anyway?" she said with a smile I couldn't resist. "I have coffee and scones that are still hot from the oven."

"Scones sound delicious," I said.

"They are," she said, motioning me in. I nodded and went past her into the very fashionable living room. There was a large leather couch, two overstuffed chairs, and a maple coffee table. The room looked as if it was designed by a decorator who knew a great deal about style. I sat on the couch and she excused herself and talked as she went into another room.

"My name is Michelle," she said as she disappeared into what I realized had to be the kitchen. A few moments later she came back carrying a tray with two cups and two plates of scones with butter and jelly on each dish. "So Tom is the friend you're looking for. What is Tom's friend's name?"

"I am David," I said. "Tom was my roommate in college. Berkeley," I said.

"Oh, really? What year? I was where they have a tree for a mascot," she said.

"Stanford. Yeah, you beat us last year," I said. "I graduated in 2005."

"Just luck," she said with a smile that melted my heart. "I left the Tree in 2006. Small world. Glad to meet you, Berkeley," she said.

We chatted like old friends, talking about sporting events we had in common, the political situation we found ourselves in, and the bakery that made the scones. I said they were the best I have had.

"You are not just saying that to get my panties off, are you?" she said.

"Whatever works," I said adopting her straightforward approach.

"David. Are you busy this afternoon?" I shook my head. "You wouldn't rather see Tom?"

"Tom who?" I said.

I stayed until almost eleven. She told me about herself, the fact that she had studied psychology and had gotten a masters. I told her I was teaching at a community college and was working on a book. She asked whether it was fiction or nonfiction, I said non. I explained that it was on sexual compulsion.

"A topic close to my heart," she said, "since I am compulsive about sex. You want to study me?" she asked with that same smile that made me stay originally. She told me straight out she didn't have sex on the first house call. "It takes at least one dinner date," she said with a sly smile, a smile that made me weak in the knees and hard in the shorts. "I like steak and lobster, crème brûlée, and a good martini. I like flowers, a man with a credit card, and fast cars," she said.

"Would you like to share a steak and lobster with me, a good dessert, and a fast ride in my Lamborghini? Well, would you settle for a F-250 pickup?"

"I like pickups even better than Lamborghinis," she said. "Especially with super cabs." I assured her mine had a very super cab. "Does it have a camper shell?" she asked. I nodded. "Perfect," she said.

As I drove she sat next to the divider, but she put her feet on the dash and pushed her dress down between her legs. "You suppose I have any panties on?" she asked playfully. I said I hoped not. "We'll see if you're right. Some time tonight," she said with a chuckle.

A few miles later she said, without any equivocation, "I like oral, cowgirl, and slow Sunday morning sex. Oh, and I am not inclined to be totally monogamous. I am what you call a sexually active American female. We will get along well if you can handle that. So?"

"I think we'll get along just fine," I said. "I like variety myself."

We went to dinner, had steak and lobster, crème brûlée for dessert, and went right back to her house for our second dessert of the night. Like she had said, we had cowgirl, oral sex, and the next morning was Sunday. It couldn't get any better.

I went back and asked for Tom two more times that week. "Still not here, but you might as well come in and wait for him. We might find something to do while we wait," she said.

After that week she rode in my truck every night except Saturday. She had a previous engagement so I watched the Lakers defeat the Celtics. She asked me if I was sure I could handle her open style sex life. It may be difficult in many ways, but the rewards were incredible.

I moved in with her after three months, worked on my book at night, usually after a rather hot session of afternoon sex. At about eleven, each night when she was home we finished the day with a very passionate round of oral, cowgirl, or sex in front of the front window with the lights out.

She would keep the lights on, but I convinced her the neighbors just might object. After six months of not seeing Tom very often, she asked me if I would like to watch. I said I loved spectator sports and would love a ringside seat. "She told me she had a friend coming over and I could get a ticket to watch if I was good. I tried to be good and she drew up a ticket on a 3 by 5 card.

When her friend came, he was black, quite tall, and very well hung, near the size of a good-sized horse, and he gave her a fucking I will not soon forget. It was amazing she could take even half of it.

Funny, but I didn't feel jealous as I watched him fuck Michelle, the woman I had come to realize I was in love with. Her declaration that she was not a one-man woman seemed to free me from possessiveness. I did, in fact, loved seeing it. I focussed on the sight of his big black cock disappearing into her.

It was incredible to watch. He fucked her from below, in cowgirl, with her bouncing over him wildly, grunting and moaning as she approached orgasm. When she came I almost came myself, vicariously joining her in her pleasure. When they both finished coming, she cleaned his dick with a loving and active tongue. His name is Marco, and she explained later that he fucks her at least once a week.

I knew that at work she serviced some of the men she worked with at lunch, but the thought only excited me, giving me pleasure to imagine and fantasize about later.

I could picture her being fucked in the storeroom, standing with her legs apart, bent over, holding up her dress, and taking a cock from behind as she cooed and came.

Being the workplace slut thrilled her, and made me tingle with lust, knowing that the woman I love was screwing the staff on her breaks and after meetings. It seemed most knew of her sexual urgency and eagerly got in line to take his turn.

When she brought home Brenda, I saw one of the great sexual encounters of my life. Michelle and her sexual girlfriend ate each other with such carnal energy that my heart raced and I came right along with them.

Being with Michelle is like a twenty-four hour fucking that just doesn't stop. When we were pulled over by the police for a broken taillight and she ended up fucking each cop in the backseat of the squad car I was ecstatic. We left without even a warning.

When she flashed her ass at the road crew I couldn't get enough. Being with her is like a sexual sideshow that just doesn't stop. Her sexual energy is amazing. Is it polygamy we practice? I don't think so. She considers me her husband and nearly everyone else her bedmate. I have watched her fuck the UPS man, a swimming instructor, my brother, our pool cleaner, her office therapist neighbor, two cops, and a handful of workers from the road crew.

It is a very exciting life to live with Michelle, and I wouldn't trade a minute of it for all the money in Fort Knox. I know I told her I like variety, but I like fucking and watching her better than I like fucking other women, so I have pretty much given up having sex with other ladies unless it is in a threesome with Michelle and one of her friends. That we have done on four occasions.

When she brought Nancy home, the three of spent two solid nights in our bed fucking and sucking like professionals, taking breaks only to eat and relieve ourselves when necessary. My wife loves the taste of pussy and I think she would let every meal be a lovely lady if she could, although her love of cock would break into that routine.

It's been five years since I knocked on the wrong door and found the love of my life. We bought a house together and it has two extra bedrooms, one for long-term guests--like Tom--(who Michelle met and liked), and the other for overnighters who can only spend one passion-filled evening.

We married in 2013, more for investment purposes than a belief in the importance of a paper that binds two people. We would consider ourselves a family anyway, which would include Tom, and we expect to be together in this regard until we no longer inhabit this earth. Michelle is the most exciting thing about living, and I couldn't see myself living without her.

It is not a storybook union, since most would mock what we have as decadent and shameless, but what we have gives us pleasure, satisfaction, and self-respect, so it is not all that important to get the approval of others. Our family is our business and the way we enjoy or practice sex is the way we want it.

Michelle has given me years of companionship and intimacy and love, and that is all I ask. She told me straight out in the beginning she didn't believe in monogamy, and she has never lied to me or held anything back. She is an unconventional lady and we have an unconventional partnership, but we have an alliance we are happy with and that stands up well in the course of things. What matters is that we are happy with it. Right?